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Trace Chance [CLOSED]


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Diomedes did his best to keep his head up as he approached the bar. It would fine. He'd gotten away from both an embarrassing social gaffe and his dad's self-important smirk. It wasn't that he hated Aristotle, he just didn't like being played.

If Dio was going to do anything, it would be on his own terms. If he could handle the unicorn bartender at the Rhinestone and that ice queen of a weather captain, he certainly could handle the white-maned lady Wonderbolt. But still, a dose of liquid courage couldn't hurt either...

Finally arriving at the bar, he chose a seat at the far end, away from the brouhaha of the Canterlot regulars where he'd be able to nurse his drink by himself. Reaching back into his jacket pocket, Dio pulled out his autographed gala ticket, letting it flutter to the table top without a word. He furrowed his brow as the ticket landed face-up, his eyes coming to rest on the little heart that Star Chaser had drawn as she signed her name.

'Bartender,' he said absentmindedly. 'Get me a double Talonopolis bourbon on the rocks.'

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The evening was going well for Martini Paradise, the bar was lively and full of interesting patrons.  Although none had directly engaged her past ordering their drinks and complimenting on their quality, the lack of engaging conversation was more than made up by the various generous tips and the interesting stories she was hearing.  So many classy ponies, so many amazing outfits, and her, Martini Paradise, in the middle of it all serving drinks!  This was the best night ever.

Still, it was a pleasant surprise that made the evening all the better when she heard a familiar voice ordering a drink.  She couldn't place it at first ... until she turned around and saw a familiar red face, one of the biggest pegasi she'd ever seen.  Martini smiled warmly, remembering how friendly he had been the last time they'd met.  He hadn't noticed her yet, his forlorn eyes instead were focused on a gala ticket with some rather cutesy writing on it.  I have seen that look before.  Fillies.  Always.

With a sly smirk, she leaned over the bar to address the distracted stallion. "Just opened a bottle of a truly amazing whiskey for a gentlecolt over there ... Saddleton 12-year Single Malt. would you like a some of that straight-up, instead? After all, nothing makes a handsome stallion like yourself feel classy like a glass of really, *really* good whiskey ..." she said with a rather flirtatious voice.

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'I… what?' Diomedes blinked. It was unmistakable; the trace of island charm, the freakish knowledge of all things drink, the incorrigible initiative. His ear twitched as he looked up to investigate the familiar voice. Speak of the devil. It was her all right. Of all the gin joints in all the towns, in all Equestria, you had to work at mine…

Dio definitely remembered his first brush with the unicorn mare. Martini was a walking, talking conundrum; she was young, pretty, skilled, witty, worldly… and a mother. Really, whoever the father was, he must have been a moron to leave her behind. But really, Martini's past was the least of his concerns right now. The girl had asked him a question.

'You tempt me, Martini,' he said, mustering enough of a smile to greet his old acquaintance.

Saddleton 12-year was expensive; at his current pay grade, it would take him more than two weeks just to save up enough money for a single bottle. At bar rates, he'd probably end up paying through the nose for even a single shot. Dio bit his lower lip. A drink was what he needed and a drink was what he was going to get, one way or another.

'And I'll have to bite. Nix the double and the rocks. Single straight. This night's just getting started.'

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Martini Paradise couldn't help but let out a small, silly giggle when the large crimson pegasus finally recognized her. He had this charm which she found endearing, something she strongly suspected he didn't do on purpose, or even realize he had. Of course, it helped that he was handsome, level headed, and had a good sense of humor as well, and judging from the ticket with the feminine signature, she wasn't the only mare who thought so.

As Martini retrieved the bottle, she lost that flirty demeanor, feeling that reverent solemnity fall over her again. She took down the tumbler, and solemnly tipped up the bottle to splash the whiskey across the bottom of the glass so that it could breath. The rich aroma teased at her, as she set a slice of lemon on the rim of the glass, then set the glass down before Dio with a gentle touch, "Here you go hon, one Saddleton straight up!" She looked to Dio with anticipation, looking forward to watching his reaction to the fine Saddleton 12-year Single Malt Whiskey.

Martini had to admit to herself, she was incredibly curious about the signed ticket sitting next to the drink. The way he was looking at it, he had certainly met some filly and was enamored by her. She also had to admit that she was a little jealous - partly because she just liked meeting people at parties, though it'd been years since she'd been at a party when it wasn't work ... and partly because she would have liked it if the red pegasus had looked at her that way. Just remember, Martini, you're here to listen and serve drinks. Don't let your envy get the better of you. Figuring it would take her to initiate any conversation with the forlorn stallion, she gave a gentle smile and went right for what was foremost on her mind, "So, are you having a good time at the Gala? Meet anypony interesting?"

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StarChasercopy.png

As Aristotle steered Star Chaser through the ballroom straight over to the bar she was starting to feel like she was being set up. Not really in an obnoxious way, but it was getting pretty obvious that he wanted things to go well between the two of them. It sounded like Diomedes wasn't the type to make long lasting friends. As they walked she was starting to wonder if maybe Aristotle sent his son over to her in the first place, but before she could get any further through her trail of thoughts she was looking right at the bar. "Heh, thanks" was all she could think of in response to Aristotle's playful little go get 'im, kid. With that she walked over to the counter top, she turned around once to see if Aristotle was still there but he had already slipped into the crowd.

The bartender was making small talk with Diomedes as Star walked up, but she didn't think much of it, they get much better tips when they chat with the customers. As she sat down she gave Dio a more genuine smile than she did over in the VIP section before turning over to the pink unicorn bartender "Hi I'll take uhh... ya know what, whatever you feel like making as long as it's not straight alcohol" She wasn't really in the mood to think of a drink. Since The only way you get a bar tending job at the gala is if you're great, Star was sure the unicorn could handle things.

Star looked back at Dio "Sooo... sorry about before, didn't think that would bother you like it did" She didn't have too much else to say yet, since she wasn't even sure if he wanted to talk to her. As she glanced down at the counter top while waiting for Dio to say something she noticed his gala ticket sitting out right in front of him. Her signature was on the side facing up, probably a good sign... possibly just a coincidence. She still felt like such a dork for signing it with a little heart.

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Diomedes ruffled his wings in anticipation as Martini gingerly—almost reverently— placed before him a glass of Saddleton. The red Pegasus nodded in acknowledgement. Carefully cupping the glass with his hooves, Dio brought it to his lips. The liquid was cool to the throat, going down smooth as if it were iced water instead of one of the strongest liquors distilled this side of Roughrider.

Barely a moment later came the burn of alcohol, or in this case, the gradual warming sensation of a fine liquor—like you were soaking in a warm bath on the inside. Finally, there was the flavor. The key to Saddleton was its subtlety. It never hit you in the face, it sidled up to you and draped a wing over your shoulders while you weren't looking. Notes of vanilla and pecan drifted between Dio's taste buds, gradually fading to a finish that tasted faintly of oranges. Dio smiled. Martini wasn't kidding when she said it was the good stuff.

'So, are you having a good time at the Gala? Meet anypony interesting?' She said.

'If by interesting, you mean stuck-up suits with chips on their shoulders and hot air in their heads, then plenty!' Dio laughed, the fine flavor lifting his spirits. 'I suppose this is what I get for being an Army brat. Dad gets comp tickets to stuff all the time and I'm obligated to come along.'

Dio made eye contact with Martini Paradise and for just a moment, perceived something else behind the gentle smile and the aether-borne bar rag. Was it… a distant sadness perhaps? Dio couldn't place it. But just like that, it was gone, leaving him wondering if he'd seen or intuited anything at all. Dio raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It probably wasn't important.

His attention momentarily redirected, Dio barely noticed the jet black lady Pegasus slip into the barstool next to him. 'Hi I'll take uhh... ya know what, whatever you feel like making as long as it's not straight alcohol.'

As Dio sipped his drink, completely oblivious to her identity until he heard the mare speak. The red Pegasus' eyes went wide and he nearly spit out his drink in surprise. Star Chaser, here? His eyes darted back and forth between Martini Paradise and Star Chaser as he downed his drink in record time. The gradually warming of a small sip was replaced by the full-on burn of a shot of whiskey. Dio's throat felt like it was on fire and the subtle hint of citrus turned into a sour note that made his eyes water. If it were possible, Dio's mane would be ablaze and he would have had steam shooting out of his ears. He certainly felt like that was what was happening!

'Sooo... sorry about before, didn't think that would bother you like it did…'

Dio took a moment to steady himself and collect his thoughts. She actually came to the bar after him. Okay… maybe she was actually interested. Maybe Aristotle wasn't just playing him for kicks. But what could he do now? He didn't anticipate having a Wonderbolt interested in him! Dio unconsciously tugged at his bowtie and ruffled his wings. He was going to need another drink. But first, the lady. He wasn't about to leave her hanging.

'It's not you, it's me.' Dio bit his lip. That was a horrible opener! 'Or rather, dear old dad. I should be used to his antics by now, being an army brat and all, but I guess I just haven't caught on!'

Dio chuckled at the joke, even if it was at his own expense. 'But really, I apologize for being a little flustered at the table. Formal occasions take me out of my element. This,' he said, waving a hoof at the general area of the bar, 'is more my style. I always preferred a more intimate setting for any meeting between friends.'

Finally hitting his stride, Dio rapped gently on the bar. 'The Saddleton was brilliant! And as much as my bit pouch is hurting, it was worth every last one. I'll have another drink, but make it a Talonopolis Bourbon on the rocks. Fancy is good, but so is familiar.'

'But for the lady, something fruity perhaps?' He said as he winked at Star Chaser, reversing his previous gaffe at the autograph table. 'I've got just the drink. Three measures of Caballo's gin, one of Stallionoya vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon peel.'

Dio had picked up the recipe on a trip to Canterlot a while back. If made poorly, the drink was a mess of liquor, but if made properly, it was smooth as lemon water with the impact of a sledgehammer later. A Wonderbolt was interested and he didn't intend to disappoint...

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Martini Paradise gave a kind smile through half open eyes, the type that was usually more personal than normal as she contently watched the large, red Pegasus savoring the Saddleton in such refined manner, he really seem to know and enjoy his drink, which just made him more attractive, if his large and powerful frame wasn't enough. There was some pride in her expression too, a confirmation she really knew how to pick the right drink for the customer. She couldn't explain how she knew, it was just intuition.

Martini giggled at Dio's reply about the about the patrons at The Gala. He was pretty much spot on - the Canterlot denizens were certainly a different breed of pony, haughty and affluent, and considering some of the conversations she witnessed at her bar, secretive and conniving. "Yeah, I know what you mean, hon. Some of the stories I've heard here tonight - it's like a cheap, two bit romance and intrigue novel you see at the book-stands come to life!" She snickered "There were always a few of those types touring the islands when I was a foal - always needing an umbrella, afraid to even get their hooves wet. We always made jokes about them being so over-demanding and fastidious there, but it seems they are even worse here in their own home!" She figured he would get a kick out of that brief observation, being the down to earth, so to speak, sort of Pegasus that he was. Then she noticed another patron coming to the bar.

A Wonderbolt!

Martini had never actually met a Wonderbolt before, never even seen them perform. This particular young mare was quite stunning, a black pelt contrasting with her beautiful powder blue mane, and then the sleek Wonderbolt outfit. Oh how her daughter Sunrise Beach would be sooo excited to meet a Wonderbolt. She could just imagine the ecstatic foal jumping up and down in excitement. That little thought almost brought a tear to her eye, as she realized how much she missed her daughter. Then the newcomer asked for Martini to make "whatever she liked."

Martini pondered that for a second, grabbing a rink glass from the shelf with her magic she couldn't help but hear her two newest patrons starting to converse as if they already know each other. Martini didn't think anything of it until she heard Dio gave perhaps the lamest of openings.

"It's not you, it's me."

Martini almost dropped her glass as she snorted in brief laughter before loudly clearing her throat, "Umm, sorry, just had something in my throat" she said, trying not to have an awkward smile on her face as she went back to looking over the list of drinks to decide what to make. Martini nodded as Dio addressed her once more with a new found confidence, ordering for himself and for the mare that no doubt he had been despondent over earlier. Still, her nod was a little forced. It was ridiculous for her to feel so sad over the chemistry between them. She'd only met Dio twice, really, and she could hardly blame him. Oh, Martini, how could you possibly compete with a knockout like that, and a Wonderbolt to boot! She is famous and rich and you're just a dirt poor single mom ... Still she had drinks to make, and she was determined to make it a performance!

Martini pondered a moment over just the right approach. The latter drink was complex, and was good for a show by itself, but the former drink was so simple. Anything she did with it would just feel dull by comparison. If she started with it, any attention would be lost before she started on the good drink - and if she started with the good drink, then the finish would be such a let-down after her initial performance. Well, there was only one thing for it. It would be a challenge with such a complex drink, but she would simply have to mix both drinks at the same time!

She didn't bother with her normal extra physical antics, but instead she just used her magic. Her horn glowed with a soft lime green, the same color as her mane, and four bottles floated off of the shelves, at the same time that a lemon, a whole lot of ice cubes, and two glasses. One of the glasses was a tumbler and one margarita glass - the closest she had to the old-fashioned champagne goblet that was the proper glass for the classic drink. Oh, yes. She recognized it. And he'd ordered it exactly right. When done with style, the drink shouldn't be asked for by name.

The ice cubes lined themselves up, orbiting Martini, circling her in constant motion. The bottles, too, circled, inside the ring of ice. The two glasses came around, diagonally to the ring of ice, crossing it over and over again. The Martguerita glass managed to always miss the ice, but the tumbler always grabbed another cube, till it had a good dozen of the small cubes tinkling inside the glass. The ring of ice hardly seemed diminished, as three of the bottles started discharging the various colors of liquids to mingle, splash into each other, and then engulf the ice cubes circling her, flowing over the ice in the opposite direction, chilling swiftly. The fourth bottle created a diagonal ring that went in a larger circle around the ice ring, chasing down the tumbler which seemed to be fleeing from the drink. The lemon, meanwhile, sliced itself lengthwise, then took off a small slice, which spiraled around the outer ring of liquor to chase down the tumbler. Then, a thin little curling peel of lemon tore itself off the lemon, and went spiraling around the ring of ice and liquor. All of a sudden, all the liquor and the glasses came together, the ice discarding itself into the sink, and the lemon hiding itself behind the bar. The two glasses set them down lightly, with the liquid inside falling completely still.

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