[ Peter takes a second to consider, then flags down the bartender – a big, bulky guy, something like a brick wall incarnate – who lumbers over with a bored expression on his face. ]
Two glasses of Krylorian whiskey, if you've got it.
[ A staple, back where Peter's from, and the bartender nods, retrieving them two tumblers of a bright blue alcohol. Peter grins, scooping up his glass. The spirit has a citrusy sort of sweetness, with one hell of a burn, and Peter orders it whenever he's feeling particularly homesick.
(Predictably, he's been ordering it pretty frequently while this celebration has been going on.)
He nudges the second glass toward Cassian. So much for "just a beer." ]
no subject
Two glasses of Krylorian whiskey, if you've got it.
[ A staple, back where Peter's from, and the bartender nods, retrieving them two tumblers of a bright blue alcohol. Peter grins, scooping up his glass. The spirit has a citrusy sort of sweetness, with one hell of a burn, and Peter orders it whenever he's feeling particularly homesick.
(Predictably, he's been ordering it pretty frequently while this celebration has been going on.)
He nudges the second glass toward Cassian. So much for "just a beer." ]
Give it a shot.