* [semi-closed post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan is still struggling, but she's established a little routine, specific to Dark: every morning, she goes to her favorite room - the one with all the rugs - and retrieves several bottles of alcohol. These, she ferries down to the cafe and arranges them on a corner table, where she sits for the next hour or so, passing bottles to anyone who needs a full one, and measures from the bottles to anyone who would prefer just a drink or two. By now, she's got a sense of the regulars, their preferences (though she cannot always accommodate these - it really is the queerest assortment of libations), and how much they require, but she always brings an extra bottle or two just in case.

Today, she's tireder than normal, and moving slowly. Her tea was running low, and so she's rationing it. She's even on the verge of capitulating and getting a cup of coffee to tide herself over.


[Primarily intended for Dionysus and Lan Wangji, but if anyone wants to play out the awkwardness of the daily alcohol retrieval I'm all in!]

Comments

[vineleaves]

Dionysus has been aware that Susan was in charge of the alcohol rations ever since he got the flier at the beginning of Dark. He has been making a few small bottles of alcohol every day to go with his 'groceries', the grapes and jelly and raisins and juice and whatever else he's decided to call forth in the morning, but he has sort of just been placing them haphazardly around. It isn't that he has been purposefully avoiding her; not running into her has just been a side effect of their differing schedules, he supposes. Their first meeting did not go as well as he would have liked, so on some level he's okay with not running into her.

Today though it seems like the universe has other plans. Maybe he woke up a little earlier than usual, maybe he's getting faster at creating the daily supplies, maybe it's something else entirely, but he enters the cafe and is face to face with Susan.

"Good morning!" he says cheerful enough, though unsure if it's even still morning or not.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Bacchus," Susan says. She's absolutely too tired to sound as surprised as she feels. "Hello."

[vineleaves]

"How are you? It's been absolutely forever since we last spoke!" Probably because she hates him or something, he's certain. "Is this where you've been handing out the rations?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan has been better, but she and Bacchus aren't on close enough terms to share on that front. "It is," she confirms. "It seems rather central, doesn't it?"

[vineleaves]

"That it does! Oh, ah, here." He digs around in his basket and pulls out a couple of bottles of wine, handing them over. "I was going to just put these in a cabinet somewhere, but I suppose it makes more sense for you to add them to your stash. How, ah, how has that been going?" He eyes the bottles she has beside her warily, not sure if that's just today's ration or if that's everything.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Where did you find these?" Susan asks, startled. She slots them in with the rest - perhaps now she might give Grantaire some extra; he's been looking peaked about the edges lately, and he seems to like wine in particular.

[vineleaves]

The question throws him off and for a second all he can do is stare, confused. “I didn’t find them. I made them? I am a god, remember.” His tone isn’t snarky, it’s almost apologetic. “I’ve been making stuff.” He gestures to the basket.

[lightbearinglord]

As a general rule, Lan Wangji avoids the café unless he has a prearranged meeting for discussion of Jane Austen, but he, too, is running low on tea and wondering if he might find any there. He is restless on the whole in a way that is unusual for him. There are too many things weighing on his mind, nebulous mysteries and dangers.

He sees Susan and stops. They have barely spoken, but he knows what she is doing for the residents who drink alcohol regularly and, unlike Wei Ying, are not so fortunate as to have golden cores to carry them through the month. He arranges himself into a polite bow.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

In the time since they first (and last) spoke, Susan has learned this man's name. "Lan Wangji," she says, with a nod. "Good morning."

[lightbearinglord]

"Young mistress Pevensie," Lan Wangji answers. He surveys her collection of bottles with a glance. "Thank you for your help."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh! Of course. Someone must, and I'm well-suited to such things." Susan pauses, and then flicks a glance over him. Delicately, she asks, "Are you in need?"

[lightbearinglord]

If Lan Wangji were not so weary, his amusement at the prospect might be more obvious. His expression stays flat today. "No." It emerges bluntly enough that he adds, "Alcohol is forbidden where I come from. I rarely drink it."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I see." Susan hesitates for a moment. "Are you in need of anything else?"

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad hasn't actually made the connection between Claudius' irritability, his tremors and headaches, and the lack of alcohol -- he doesn't have the information for that. But he knows how much Claudius likes to drink a glass of wine with dinner, or share cocktails with his friends; he's listened to Claudius talk with extraordinary fondness about choosing the contents of the liquor cabinet for Crowley, and wax rhapsodic about the wine Dionysus conjured for him.

Galahad is still feeling empty in the wake of Easter, but it's easier to pay attention to the world around him now. He remembers the flyer that was slipped under their door a week or two ago.

He shows up to Susan's table in the café -- appearing, as he often does, a little like a ghost manifesting, albeit a ghost is corduroy overalls embroidered with flowers.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Galahad is almost certainly not here for a drink, so Susan's assumption is that Lancelot has made his apology for not summoning Galahad to Magnus's side after his injury, and he's here with follow-up questions. "Good morning," she says, warmly, gesturing at the empty chair in case he should like to sit.

[onthewillowsthere]

"Good morning." He alights in the chair, and asks politely, "How are you?" because this is a familiar script.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, as well as can be expected," says Susan, because it's impolite to gripe. And then she says, "This season is rather grating, no?" because it is, and she's not actually doing altogether well, and then she asks, "And you? That's a cheery outfit you've got."

[onthewillowsthere]

"I hate it," Galahad says, because Susan is someone he has decided it's fine to hate things with. Susan hates Camelot and Heaven. She won't find the idea of him hating things unpleasant. "Magnus chose it."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It's lovely," she says, about the overalls, and then she sighs. "I thought - I arrived here in autumn, but it was spring in London at the time, so I suppose I might just be off-tempo, but I did rather think that winter ought to be over by now."

[timebethine]

Laertes comes to the café near the end of Susan's vigil. He takes a moment to compose himself before stepping inside--Susan is intense, intimidating, but she has never been unkind. She's agreed to take responsibility for the alcohol, because those who needed it believed that she would handle distribution equitably; she hasn't seized this role out of a desire for power. She's fair, and good. Lancelot loves her.

It isn't her fault that she reminds Laertes of his father.

He puts on a bright smile, then strides over to where she sits. "Hallo, Susan," he calls. "How dost thou?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Laertes," warmly; she's pleased to see him. "Good morning."

[timebethine]

"And to thee. Might I pick up some kind of liquor for Sagramore? A brandy, if there is any to be had, but nearly anything would do."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes, of course," Susan says, and then hesitates, consulting her list. "Ah. Is brandy a special favorite of his?"

[timebethine]

"It's the closest I can think of to palinka, but I imagine he's already taken any palinka in thy stores." And bourbon or Scotch would remind him too much of Claudius, and he would not reopen that wound.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Have you got any special occasions coming up? I only ask because we're low on brandy - there's a bottle full save for a swallow, and two half-bottles left, but that's it. And so if it's his preference..." She tilts her head, thinking out loud even as she reaches for one of the half-bottles. "I wonder if Bacchus's powers mightn't extend to brandy. It comes from grapes, does it not?"