A night at the bar. Gothenburg, Sweden (open)

[Tino Väinämöinen]

Tino cleaned the glass in his hand. His violet eyes slowly went from one table to another trying to keep an eye out for any possible trouble. The bar for the most part was empty aside from a few sailors that have been trickling in and out. He sighed as he placed the clean cup on the counter behind him. Being the one unknown member of their ship did have it's advantages, mostly in the sense that he could enter and leave towns as long as he avoided trouble.

So lets see, if I work a few more days before they set sail I might be able to get a little better supplies either before we leave or at the next port. He sighed as his eyes watched the for the door as he watched another group walk in. He quickly took note of the group that had walked, memorizing various details from height, weight, and what if any visible items they had.

Okay so maybe he was being a little overly paranoid but always watching, always taking notes, that has kept him alive to this point. He blinked as his mind had snapped back to reality. Tino's violet eyes shifted back to there care free style, and a smile appeared on his face. Losing his worries as he tried to focus just on his task.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Letting out an unnoticeable hum of content, Berwald quietly walked along the darkening streets. He had gotten some time off thanks to his most compassionate captain, who saw the Swede constantly struggling with the heat. So he had rushed back to Rossiya and into the colder weather he so loved. Sometimes he couldn't believe just how lucky he was to have an understanding person in charge of his ship.

Of course, no one would even know he was a Navy sailor considering he very much did not look the part. He wore the thick clothes that he had grown accustomed to. The long sleeved shirt and dark pants, his heavy boots and his overcoat. And one of his swords, carefully hidden under said coat. It was a plus he blended into the crowd in these clothes as well considering the few people who made their staring obvious. But he brushed it aside and let his long strides carry him into the not so unpleasant bar.

The air was considerably warmer inside than it was outside as it took away the chill that had settled in his face. A quick scan of the bar gave him the knowledge that very few people were here which made him less of an object of scrutiny. Striding over to an empty table at the side of the room, Berwald pulled out a chair and hardly spared a glance at the barkeep as he waved the man over to signal his want of a drink.

[Tino Väinämöinen]

Tino blinked as the larger man walked in, noticing he wasn’t the only person to turn when he walked into the door. He shook off his thought as he tried to focus on his work, hoping to get his work done. He pulled slightly at the apron he was wearing over his dress clothes. A small hand brushed the hair out of his eyes as he turned to try and note the bar’s customers. His mind raced back to the most recent person to enter, as something from inside told him to watch his step among everyone in the room.

His mind shifted as Tino caught the newest patron wave him over. His kind smile appeared on his face again, as he made his way to the table. His left arm slightly swayed in a carefree style as he walked, and his right hand stayed on his hip near the dagger hidden under his dress shirt. Okay a little paranoid, but if it kept him running to this point, then there is no reason to change. He violet eyes softened to his natural look as he finally made his way to the table. “Hello what can I get for you today?”

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Berwald rubbed a large hand over his face, exhaling a large breath through his nose. So far so good. At least none of the drunken patrons had tried to pick a fight with the burly man and for that he was thankful. After all, who really wanted to fight on a day off? Emitting a sound between that of a snort and a huff Berwald lounged back in his chair. I would. Tilting it back onto two legs, he propped his own pair onto the tabletop as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the laid back atmosphere of the bar.

Cracking open a cyan eye at the barkeep, Berwald barely managed to keep his expression minimally intimidating. Before him stood a completely average man -perhaps a bit shorter- with the most incredibly violet eyes he had ever seen. Of course he had seen purple eyes before but these were so vibrant it was unreal. Granted, his eyes were unusual too but Berwald knew for a fact that no one particularly noticed their color due to his unfortunate facial expression.

Swallowing deeply to make his pause seem like careful deliberation, Berwald blinked once before nonchalantly placing his hands behind his head and managing to rumble a semi-intelligible answer. "V'dka 's fine."

[Tino Väinämöinen]

Tino had watched as the larger man leaned back in his chair and wondered what was passing through his mind. “Got it, coming right up.” The smile on his face seemed to widened slightly as he mentally took down the simple order. He shifted back and forth between thoughts as he made his way back to the bar. The one down side to only working temporary is trying to find out where everything is at. Oh well, no matter. Tino whistled happily as he shifted through what seemed like an endless collection of bottles. “Where is it?” His smile turned to a half scowl as he continued to try and find the bottle. The young ‘barkeeper’ mumbled to himself as he tried to find the right bottle. “I know I saw it before.”

His eyes widened gleefully when he finally found the bottle that he was looking for. His smile reappeared as he started to emerge from the shelves of bottles that made up the back wall. After removing the cork from the bottle, Tino made his way back toward the customer he was helping. Before he could make it back to the table he heard another call from across the room, one that had a slight sound of alcohol induced anger. And officially the night time rush begins. Tino lifted his head up, as his bangs fell slightly in front of his eyes. “I’ll be right there.” He called out to the other customer, as he placed the open bottle gently on the table. “If there’s anything else I can get for you, let me know.” His smile hadn’t shifted as he turned away to quickly tend to the loud customer near the center of the room.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Berwald nodded in acknowledgment at the barkeep's semi-request. However, he didn't think he'd actually want anything else to drink. He only ordered vodka because he didn't want to look like a lightweight in front of the other bar patrons. Unfortunately for him he couldn't even hold a light beer let alone something as potent as vodka. Alas, he stifled a sigh and reached for the bottle with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Bringing the bottle to his lips and tilting his head back, Berwald braced himself for the burn.

It took every ounce of willpower and strength he had to keep from falling back in his chair and throwing up. So he settled for slamming forward and spitting out the horrible drink. He coughed loudly and wiped his watering eyes. He could feel the alcohol dripping down his chin and onto the table but he didn't dare move for fear of vomiting. Dear God that was so not worth it. I'd rather take a beating.

[Tino Väinämöinen]

Tino quickly took a mental note on the other customer's order, before heading back to the bar. He was just hoping for a non-violent day. Disappearing back behind the bar, Tino quickly started to pull the orders from the bar. His mind shot back to the other customer though. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something different then the what was just on the surface.

His mind shot as he turned around to see the large man spitting out his drink. Not surprised, vodka is really strong, especially in this Rossiya. Sighing he grabbed a wash rag from the bar, as he went to place the orders on the other tables before returning to the table to clean up the drink. His smile softened slightly, as he finished cleaning up. "You okay? Maybe something a bit lighter?" His violet eyes blinked as he wondered if the he would want another drink. He shook the thought out of his head as he wondered which drink would be best for his customer.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

This could possibly be the most embarrassing thing to happen to Berwald. Recently. There was that one time he was roped into a not so innocent game of blackjack...... Hanging his head in defeat-- dropping it onto the table in reality--Berwald rolled his head ever so slightly to blink up at the man. After a long while he nodded slowly and brought his hand up to wipe his face. "Someth'n' to eat," Berwald thought for a moment before transferring his gaze to the table, "....... Pl'se."

Maybe if he begged enough he could sink into the floor to avoid any more mortification. But if some drunken moron decided to start a fighting frenzy he'd miss out on a boatload of fun. Decisions, decisions. Allowing a noncommittal hum of allowance to rumble in his throat, Berwald made his decision. He'd stay for the possible fights but leave within an hour or so if nothing happened.

[Tino Väinämöinen]

Tino tilted his head slightly as the larger man looked up to him from the table. Well this is new. Tino mentally chuckled at the thought as he removed a small notebook from the pouch on his apron. His violet eyes reflected slightly in the light as he thought about what they had. “Of course, anything specific? Maybe a light soup?” He asked just wanting to help the other man, he had seen it before, and it seldom turned out good. He smile shifted to harsh frown for a small second when he heard someone yell out to him from the back of the room again. His right hand instantly brushed against the dagger strapped to the underside of his apron, as he remembered the order for the other table.

I guess I shouldn’t cause any more trouble. He smile politely, before nodding his head slightly. “I’m sorry I’ll be right back. Tino ran off to the bar to quickly grab the orders and the glasses, before dashing back to the table. As he was placing the last of the bottles on the table, he heard the voice of the largest of the group booming over him about how long it took. Tino barely had enough time to look up to see a large fist coming down at him. Ducking last second to avoid the attack, Tino was able to avoid but accidently backed into a wall. His hands instantly dragged out the daggers from under his apron, hoping to be able to defend himself.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

Quite honestly, the idea of something to eat made Berwald's stomach roll painfully and a prickly sensation crawl up his spine. Of course he knew the benefits of eating something but right now the little voice in his head wasn't very coherent. Nevertheless he gave a grunt of agreement to the barkeep-turned-waiter. Besides if he ordered something it meant he would have more opportunities to talk with the friendly young man.

Yet just like every other good thing that happened to Berwald his pleasant thoughts of conversation were rudely interrupted. As he heaved himself up to look back at the disturbance he barely caught thr sight of a large man swinging a powerful fist at the young looking bar employee. Practically launching himself from his seat at the table, Berwald was across the room in seconds with a look that inspired fear in even the most hardened of delinquents. Drawing back his left arm as he reached the bar patron, Berwald did one of things he was best at: starting memorable fights.

[Tino Väinämöinen]

Tino’s smile changed into one more impish as he backed away from the attacker. He didn’t feel good about being surrounded by the group but figured he could work his way out of it, or at least try to. He brought the dagger in his right hand up close to his face in a defensive manner, and his left one hugged closed to his chest in case he needed to attack. His breath slowed slightly as he mentally prepared himself, and was about to launch himself into an attack on the leader of the two.

The sight of the larger patron bolt across the room, caught the young lad off guard. He shivered when he caught the look on his face, causing him to almost topple backward. He quickly resheathed the daggers when the other two turn to see the leader of the group get hit by the larger man, not wanting to do any long lasting damage unless he had to. I could use this. Taking the moment when the two turned away from him, to grab one of the bottles that had yet to be opened, before bring in down on to one of the goons. He pressed himself against the wall as the other one turned to him, his hand shuffled for the nearest blunt object, not wanting to reach for the resting daggers unless he truly needed to. His hand brushed against something solid, the round handle he had been familiar with for all the times he was working in bars, or even as a kid. The top of the broom in his hand, soon connected with the jaw of one of the attackers, before he moved slightly to put a little bit of room between the two attackers and himself.

[Berwald Oxenstierna]

God th't felt good. The satisfying pain of a fist solidly connecting with someone's face shot up his arm as his opponent, if he could even be called that, fell to the floor. He could feel the giddiness fighting left in his stomach start to well up as he practically started bouncing with glee. The fleeting voice of reason that rarely found the courage to interject seemed to shake as it found the will to speak. It's hardly fair to sucker punch civilians..... Berwald had to hold back a snort of contempt. Who seriously listened to their voice anyway?

Turning quickly to see the barkeep land a solid hit to the head of some unfortunate soul-- So now you have a conscience?-- Berwald inwardly grinned and tackled the nearest man participating in the fight. He rained down as many blows as he could before the other man found his purchase and began to do the same to him. When a haphazard throw hit Berwald in the temple lights bloomed in his vision as his glasses clattered across the floor. Anger flooded into his systems as he shook off his momentary daze and slammed his fists down into an unprotected face, the slick feeling of blood coating his knuckles.