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[Varker is attempting to speak clearly, but there is a definite lisp as he trips over his own teeth.]

You've reached Dr. Varker. As a note, yes I do accept bribes in exchange for good behavior.

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From:

weirdnecro

She glanced away too. She hadn't meant to step on his foot, so to speak. She was trying to behave, more or less.

Hearing about Simon might have been even been too much, with all of his bitterness.

"That's why I think Id- like as in id, ego, superego- is a good name for it." She told him. "And...hm. I do like Mexican, but my latest touch stone on Earth was New York but- they aren't known for good Mexican food."

She leaned back in her seat, thinking. "Corn tortillas, freshly made? I think I could at least manage a good breakfast burrito, and Tex Mex. At least everything here is pretty fresh."

From:

cameclosest

"Im not going to name it, it shouldn't even exist." He hisses, though shuts his mouth immediately when it sounds just like the mouth above his eyes. He would pinch the bridge of his nose, but that part of his face no longer exists. His mood dips further, slumping in the chair and taking a long pull from his glass.

"Fresh corn tortillas sound delicious." He managed to grumble out after a stretch of silence.

From:

weirdnecro

Oh, hiss from the bottom mouth now. She sighs, and takes a small sip of her drink. Well, this was going down badly.

She wasn't going to say she named her boobs. Tempting to, but he didn't need that sass. Or mention tongue tacos, even if they were delicious.

"I think I could manage them. What do you like in your tacos?"

From:

cameclosest

"Cant go wrong with a street taco. Pick a protein, cilantro, white onion and lime. Maybe some crema if the protein has a kick to it." He finished his second glass, setting it on the desk in front of him, considers another but hes burning through it quickly.

"Or birria tacos...god those are good."

From:

weirdnecro

"You know your tacos. That's not unexpected, but it's still lovely to know. I've met a few people who...don't even know birria tacos exist."

She glanced at the bottle, before glancing up at Varker, before offering a hand.

"If you don't mind me using magic, I can refill your bottle."

From:

cameclosest

"I existed off the taco truck that sat on the edge of campus in college. I think everyone has their favorite spot in the bay. No wrong answers, usually." And now he really wants a birria taco. God dammit.

He follows her gaze to the bottle, back to her and raises an eyebrow, "will it taste the same?"

From:

weirdnecro

"I mean, sometimes? Sober or drunk? I'd just get a big variety of tacos. It's just really nice to have. But I'll look up some recipes, check my memory, see if John and I can come up with some decent birria tacos."

She liked a challenge, and she thought John would enjoy it too.

Though hearing that, she snorted.

"Yes? Otherwise there wouldn't be much point of making more. Same temperature as well. Can't screw up a good thing, especially when I want more."

From:

cameclosest

He might be temperamental, and incredibly frustrated, but there is a smile that crosses his lips, leaning in and resting his chin on his folded hands, "of course its fucking good, that's $1200 whiskey."

He makes a waving gesture towards it, "so if you can make sure it never runs dry, I think maybe we can be friends."

From:

weirdnecro

"Oh shit, no wonder it hits so well."

She gave the bottle a look of respect. Well, now she wanted her own bottle of this back at the cabin. She loved a good whiskey.

"Well sure I can. I can do the refill right now." She squinted at the bottle and- well. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then the liquid rose, in the same color as before, before she offered it back.

"Try it, so you know I'm not full of it." She advised. "If you want it to work without me, I'll have to do some inscription on the bottles. Or at least have some stuff over paper, sealed onto the bottle for it to work."

All she'd ask was a glass now and then.

From:

cameclosest

"2019 George T. Stagg. I'm allowed to treat myself to a case when they release every year." With this being his office rather than his condo his stash was rather paired down, unfortunately.

He, perhaps a bit gleefully watches as the rich amber liquid rises back to the top, knocking the bottle back to take a taste test straight. "I think I love magic." Says the alcoholic as he sets the bottle down and stands, walking over to the wet bar to grab a different bottle.

The one he produces from inside the cabinet has a bit more of an understated look, less rich, but he sets it in front of her, half empty as it is, "you do that with this one and I'll give you the Stagg. Engrave away."

Because what she has in front of her is a 30 year Macallan scotch thats worth four times as much.

Edited Date: 2025-06-06 05:58 am (UTC)

From:

weirdnecro

"A case."

She said it to confirm, not to question. George T. Stagg didn't release that many bottles per year- no wonder it was so smooth. And so good.

Arthur might explode if he tasted it. Though- seeing the bottle she was offered, her eyes widened. A Macallan.

She just about whimpered. No wonder he was willing to part with the Stagg.

"Not...exactly. I mean- technically? Technically. It is teachable. I uh- sorry, I'm a little-" She cleared her throat, before touching the bottle.

Again, it was not in an instant, but she started to refill it.

"If you have some paper, I can write the formula for you right now." Because she did not want to accidentally crack the bottle in any way.