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[color=C8C7CB][b]Time:[/b][/color] Early Evening
[color=C8C7CB][b]Location:[/b][/color] Alexei's
[color=C8C7CB][b]Interaction with:[/b][/color] [@13org] Ylva, [@Milkman] Finn
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Vivian observed the foreign customer with a satisfied smile as she gleefully inspected the bottle of Akevitt. There weren’t many chances to use the more exotic choices of alcohol stored in the cabinets—they seemed to be stored for the purpose of having a collection and the rare occasion like this one where a customer requests an uncommon drink. The menu excluded these options, but there was still a pricing system for them in place.

Upon receiving approval from the customer to create a custom drink, Vivian smiled and grabbed the bottle from the counter. [color=C8C7CB]“You got it.”[/color]

As Ylva continued to speak, Vivian kept her attention on the conversation while multitasking on the cocktail. The story about her people’s festive traditions sounded pretty intriguing, particularly on the detail about how the main dish of the feast would be slaughtered then and there. Vivian reacted by chuckling, [color=C8C7CB]“That’s metal as fuck,”[/color] she commented. It was something she would be interested in seeing in her lifetime.

[color=C8C7CB]“Call me Viv, short for Vivian. Come by again with more stories, they’re great.”[/color] By then, Vivian was already halfway through crafting the Akevitt cocktail. She decided to take the fruity, refreshing route for the concoction, mixing an ounce of the Norwegian spirit with bitters, grapefruit juice, and simple syrup. It was topped off with herby tonic water and served in a tall glass with ice.

Vivian put a coaster in front of her guest, and placed the drink on top. [color=C8C7CB]“Here it is, a grapefru-”[/color]

A large crashing sound interrupted Vivian’s words. Her head shot up, pinning towards the source of the disturbance, just in time to see the last shards of glass land on the floor from the impact, and a young man grabbing the head of the larger one. The collision was followed by a throng of gasps and whispers that rung throughout the establishment.

[color=C8C7CB]“Jesus christ-”[/color]

Vivian often turned a blind eye at normal brawls between patrons—she couldn't care less if they wanted to beat each other up. Property damage was another issue. Vivian was on the clock, which meant she had the responsibility of dealing with the debacle. If her attention was taken away from filling orders, there would be less tips for the shift. She sighed. 

As the initial shock dissipated, it occurred to her how bizarre the scene was. A brawny man laid unconscious on the floor, and the likely cause of his inanimate state looked like he was barely out of his teenage years. From appearances alone, the odds of the battle seemed stacked towards the brute’s favour, but there he was, unconscious anyway. She made a mental joke to herself that she should ask the blonde kid for self-defense lessons.

[color=C8C7CB]“That’s not exactly how you use a door,”[/color] Vivian chuckled, now standing in front of the pair, gazing down at their forms. She took out a pad of paper and a pen from her apron that she used for writing orders. She decided to take down their details and let the other, more experienced employees handle the rest. [color=C8C7CB]“I’m still going to need ID and some contact information though.”[/color]