#HERE WE FAURKIN GAUR... SCREAMS!!!

[glacialswordsman]

Ah, Siobhan is extremely lucky that there weren’t any scheduled programs today, and that the bar itself wasn’t terribly busy. Kaeya doesn’t know what she would have done if he had been unable to cover for her—honestly, it’s not like the Trailblazer can also appear out of nowhere at the drop of a hat, either!

Still, it’s not as though the Halovian minds taking care of those at the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Being able to speak and connect with new faces, learn of their woes or whatever interesting happenings have occurred in their lives truly is the most fascinating part of bartending. Though, perhaps his interest also aligns to Siobhan’s views, even if it may appear he’s not all that caring towards others.

Thus, when he hears a new voice and their order, he doesn’t even turn around to spare them a glance while cleaning some glasses. Instead, he smiles as his wings briefly flutter to indicate they have been acknowledged, and immediately gets to work. He was diligent in his ratios and mixing, being meticulous in his work without being stiff. Kaeya takes pride in his skills, and he’s unafraid of putting in a little flair here and there to entertain and assure any guests that he knows what he’s doing.

… That, and he’s a little bit of a peacock, regardless of if the barfly is paying attention or not. Perhaps being a part of the Iris Family makes it just a little worse more prominent.

Once he dressed the drink with decorations and dusted a smidge of nutmeg atop the cream, he turned around and served his guest with a smile—before halting altogether.

His singular eye of tanzanite grew wide while his wings stiffened. Every nerve in his body was firing off, trying to get him to move, yet he remained frozen as he stared at none other than himself.

It was uncanny—he looked exactly like him, except there were extremely minor differences. Such as, he didn’t have the same mark beneath his eye. Had Kaeya somehow mistaken his own glasses of water for pure vodka, or something? Did he somehow become completely immune to the burning, clear alcohol and was now absolutely hammered? Is he hallucinating?

Or is this someone from the Tavern?

All these thoughts screeched to a stop when the—person? apparition? suddenly disappeared before him and instead manifested behind him. All his synapses finally managed to override his freeze response and instead made him react, inhaling sharply as he spun on his heel and reached out towards this—this—impostor! He reached for their neck, attempting to seize them and shove them up against the wall behind them.

“Who. Are. You,” is all the Halovian spat out, lowly, quietly. The indigo, starry pupil shrank into a mere pinprick. Whoever this person is, he refuses to entertain their questions—their games—until he gets his own answers.

@glacialswordsman it is time

   Penacony, sweet Penacony. not the one he has lived in until he departed for his mission- but, nevertheless, some sort of remembrance from home is here. no matter how much time passes, it's always the same.

   the cobalt-haired fellow appears busy, voice soft as it speaks through the phone glued to his ear. he's making his way towards a free stool, the hour late and the customers more smashed from the drinks than awake. when he takes his place on the soft cuscion of the seat, he concludes the phone call with an hint of gratefulness to the stranger at the other side of it. it would be improper to bark an order at the poor bartender as he has seen many unkind people do. 

   his head is low, busy ending the call and skimming for the messages he has missed, when he orders ' a bushwhacker, if you please, ' with a quiet voice. when a glass is placed in front of him, ready to receive the content of the cocktail, he's already imagining the taste- it has been a while since his last one...

   -and then he notices the nervousness permeating the fingers, the stiffness. this is when pale diamond lifts with concern, lips parted to ask ' is everything alri- '

   and it meets another diamond, just the same as his. the young bartender, an halovian, is almost a perfect mirror of him.

   he doesn't exhale, nor breathes. all the air has been punched out of his chest, recognition making his eyes widen and his expression melt off his face.

   Kaeya Alberich is in front of him.

   and, suddendly, there's no more human mask of manners and social normalities, no longer the need for a drink, or asking for permission to encroach personal space.

   there's just the need to observe, to study the phenomenon that fate put in front of him. 

   he's no longer in front of the young halovian, but a flat ' interesting. ' comes from approximately behind them. the impostor's face craned near Kaeya, eyelashes pratically brushing together.

   ' you are Kaeya Alberich, ' he murmurs, singular eye piercing right through the other, seemingly uncaring that his manners are... lacking, to say the least. ' Kaeya Alberich, yes... ' he repeats.

   the impostor cocks his head to the side, lost in thought.

   ' but, if you are Kaeya Alberich... then, who am I? are you a disruption, or an anomaly? or am I? '