The Grand Opening of Merlotte's Bar & Grill

[shifting]

WHO: Sam Merlotte and hopefully a whole mess of imPorts!
WHERE: Merlotte's Bar & Grill, De Chima
WHEN: Mid-December
WHAT: After much anticipation, some contracting woes, a failed election bid and one super sweet cash infusion, Merlotte's is ready to have its opening night. Let's mingle, y'all.
WARNINGS: n/a

[the only upside to losing an election was more time to focus on getting his bar ready and opened. Time it turned out he needed, as contractor setbacks and a wrong food order pushed the opening day back a few precious weeks. But tonight's the night - the bar is stocked, wood polished, lights lit, and Sam himself is cleaned-up in a nice shirt and jeans, ready to greet what he hopes is a good and hungry crowd. He's impressed himself with how good the place looks, a testament to what one can do with the backing of a generous investor.

The menu is Southern comfort pub food, with a smattering of Louisiana-particular dishes intended to excite: boudin and rice for one, shrimp gumbo for another, and beignets just for this month. Who doesn't love pastries around the holidays? The bar, the restaurant's obvious main feature, is wide and well-stocked, with De Chima Vineyards the house wine of choice, five local drafts on tap, and a wall of shining liquor bottles. A large chalk board proudly proclaims the shot special of the evening:

A Chill Ton
– 1/2 oz. Goldschlager
– 1/2 oz. Baileys
– 1 splash of Bacardi 151
– a cinnamon rim, ignited with a match

"Sure to fire up its drinkers and leave them with a headache, this blow-hard shot goes down like a bitch."
Everyone walking through the doors will get to enjoy special discounted prices this evening, and imPorts in particular get one free drink. The pool table and dart board in the corner are sure to see some use, a DJ rented for the evening has set up karaoke for the more adventurous, and those looking to enjoy a quieter night can enjoy the fire pits crackling away on the patio. Sam himself will be found chatting up everyone he can, at times helping to serve drinks and run food, but otherwise eager to mingle and get feedback from his guests. This has been a long-time coming, and he finally both looks and feels like he's in his element.]

Comments

[shifting]

Oh.

[Daenarys will have to forgive Sam his moment of slack-jawed surprise, and the awkward, blinking stare of a man who has just realized he's basically talking to a real-life Disney Dragon Princess. He tries (rather valiantly) to shrug back into casual conversation without giving too much of that away, but it's easier said than done. ]

No, I could see how that would look different. Yeah. [there's a lull, and Sam lets it happen, eyes drifting towards the low flame of the fire pit. Considering something.]

...There was a guy with you, back when that problem with - when Drogon happened. He helped out, posted on the Network? [in all the urgency and confusion, Sam never actually got Jorah's name.] Is he from where you're from too?

[jalan]

[ She does forgive it, letting the moment ease by with a long sip of her wine. She's thinking about how to approach a specific topic when Sam inadvertently does the task for her, a flicker of something in green eyes as she leans forward to set her mostly depleted wine down on the low table. ]

Ser Jorah, [ she says. ] He was my adviser for sometime, before we parted ways, and now gives his sword to Ambassador Baelish -- who is also of my world.

[ Her study is mild, but intent, checking any outward responses to these notions, these words, these people. ]

But Jorah knows Drogon, and was one of the few people I could trust in managing him.

[ Past tense. ]

I did have something to ask of you.

[shifting]

[well color Sam all sorts of surprised. His brows lift as he glances for an empty chair to settle into, finally abandoning any pretense of returning to work. The place nearly shut down anyway; he doesn't need to hold the servers' hands while they clean.]

Is that right? [a mild enough question, hiding the furious questioning and fascination taking place behind it. She'll be able to pick up Sam's clear spark of recognition, not unfavorable, at Lord Baelish's name, but this is the first he's heard Jorah's spoken.]

I'm gonna take a wild leap here and guess it's got somethin' to do with Drogon.

[who seems to be the... well, if not elephant, then certainly the dragon in the room. So to speak.

Sam spreads his legs, getting comfortable.]

Is Jorah havin' trouble managing him now? Is that what happened in the city?

[jalan]

It's in a dragon's nature to do as they please. And he's used to having his brothers with him, although it did always seem to me that they bickered more than they got along.

[ Her tone is not quite like how someone would talk of a beloved pet, but kin. Children, even. She settles into the topic at hand, taking note of that little reaction out of Merlotte at the mention of Lord Baelish. Something to inquire about at another time. ]

What happened in the city-- he was injured elsewhere. I think he was coming to find me, and exhausted himself in the process.

Would you-- [ There's a pause, stepping back from her royal highness mode just in time. ] --be willing to help me, and help Drogon, find a place he can be? Somewhere safe, away from others, and as long as its within a driving distance from a Porter city, even a lengthy one, then I can reach him.

[ She sets her mostly empty glass down, folding her hands on her knee. ]

This land is unfamiliar to me still, and perhaps a dragon's perspective would help. And an American's.

[shifting]

Well... brothers seem to do that. [noted with a weak, tight-lipped smile.] Best as I've been able to tell.

[although even at his worse Sam's own younger brother wouldn't have been able to reach dragon-levels of destruction. ...Probably. Tommy had admittedly been inventive when he'd managed to work up the motivation.

The niggling suspicion at the back of Sam's head confirmed, the question between them, Sam has to take a moment just to heft the weight of it; the absurdity. A dragon went tearing up a city because it couldn't find its - well, whatever Daenarys was to him, which was something a hell of a lot closer than he'd first assumed - and the notion was to look into some sort of re-housing project. For a dragon.]

That's - not exactly a small task you're askin' me.

[not just logistically, but literally. This would be a different conversation if Drogon was only the size of a horse and it was just a matter of renting a barn.

Of course, saying so is perfunctory. Whatever silence the Southerner's letting gather on the loom, he already knows his answer. He'll help; of course he will. There are a dozen reasons why (among them an odd sense of connection after taking the beast's shape himself), but Sam's starting to suspect the strongest is he's just a goddamned hopeless idiot. All the evidence seems to support it.

The look on Daenary's face and in the intelligent blue of her eyes doesn't help matters any.]

And "American" I'll take, but I'm not sure I've actually earned the other title yet. ...I can help you, though. I think. Could give it a shot, in any case. Take a look around. Wilderness is gonna be the best bet, that's obvious, but it'll have to be as far away as we can get it from farmland. I take it Drogon hunts for himself, right?

[jalan]

[ Daenerys is patient, waiting him out, a slow blink in acknowledgement at the weight of the task. It is also no trivial thing, and she has a feeling he doesn't need that impressed upon him, even if he were to turn her down. Only her hands, folded in her lap, betray some hint of tension.

And there it is. ]

He does, [ she says. ] Fish, deer, birds. Farm animals, too, unfortunately, although never horses, and never people. [ Unless she commands it. ] But you should know that ever since arriving through the Porter, he's been able to... [ a pause ] shrink, sometimes as small as a cat, and feeds himself to scale. I have at least on one occasion caught him stalking mice. I can't ask him to remain to such a size, and nor would I wish it, but it does help.

If there are permissions that need granting, funds that need raising, I consider those my responsibilities, but it is your scouting eye I value, and the ability to shift your shape in corralling him. I'd be in your debt, Sam Merlotte.

[shifting]

[Never people. Sam's shoulders lose some of their own tension. He hadn't wanted to ask, but the question had of course crossed his mind.]

No, you're right, that does help. If he could even just stay about the size of a horse sometimes, that's gonna help things. Would make keepin' him fed easier, for starters. It would also help hide him from the public eye. People start figurin' out where he rests and you're bound to get idiots goin' out, tryin' to get him on camera or god knows what.

[Sam is a sociable, friendly man, but he'd still be among the first to admit people could be a damned stupid bunch.]

In any case, I'll give it my best shot.

[he smiles, empathetic to the concern he knows she has to feel. He's not without his own, but she seems capable and he's adaptable; there should be room between them for a solution.

In true Southerner fashion, Sam extends a hand to shake.]

No debt needed, Miss Daenerys. I'll be happy to let you know when I find somethin'.

[jalan]

[ At the mention of idiots with cameras, Daenerys rolls her eyes knowingly, and her jaw sets a little. It had occurred to her, but now there is some resolution -- she will not allow Drogon to be exposed as imPorts are exposed to the general public. It had hurt her heart to watch him that day, cornered and surrounded on the city street, finally herded off.

Her focus switches back to Sam as he makes his promises to her, and then extends his hand. Her smile is suppressed into something smaller, and she reaches -- her hand glides by his palm and circles his wrist in a warm clasp. ]

My thanks. I look forward to good news from you, [ she says, before releasing him, and rising to her feet. ] And I've stolen enough of your time. Please, enjoy your celebration.