Where Do I Belong? (Gaston)

[Dimitri]

Well, this was as good as it was going to get, Dimitri decided as he literally threw in the towel. Since he had arrived here everyone else had engaged themselves at the school, voting for new headmasters and holding bonfires. He remembered a time when he had been among them, a student taking part in all the ridiculous shenanigans this place seemed to conjure up, but now? Now he was... he wasn't sure what he was, and he sure as hell didn't know where he belonged. So he had returned to Area 51, the old bar he had used to work at and had even secretly lived in for a while. It was the closest thing to home he had.

It had taken a while to clean the place up, and fix up some of the damage due to age. Thankfully the liquor stores all seemed to be in tact, and considering how long it had all been left untouched, he was sure he had some real good bottles of scotch and whiskey if nothing else. So what now? Reopen? Sell it? It wasn't exactly his, but he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the old manager, something he actually found himself a little sad about. The guy had been strange, and Dimitri had hated the stupid costumes, but he'd been a fair boss and a good man. Reopening sounded like the best thing Dimitri could do now, for himself and in memory.

But first, it couldn't hurt to have a drink or two himself, right? And if somebody happened to walk by the open door and decide to join him then this could be a little unofficial opening.

[Gaston]

Drinking alone had begun to get a little boring, and honestly Gaston was getting sick of meetings. It was as if, now he was the Deputy Head, everyone felt they had some claim to his time and attention. Which just was not the case. Gaston's time was his own, and he decided who deserved any of it - he would have assumed that would become especially true once he became powerful and important. He really needed to establish the fact that he most definitely did not have an open door policy, whatever Thatch's idiot policy was.

And so, he had left his office, thoroughly irritated that the place that should have been his private, antler infested sanctuary had apparently become a public highway. Why did everyone assume he'd care about their problems and stupid little grievances? He had much more important things to worry about; he scowled as he thought the idiot he'd left blabbering away in his office was probably still there, waiting for Gaston to return. Well, he'd be waiting a while.

He was heading for his favourite haunt, Stab Wound, when he passed the stupid Alien themed place. He'd been pleased to see it hadn't reopened - it was bloody ridiculous - but he paused when he noticed movement inside. Glancing up the street towards the other bar he paused - somewhere full of people ran the risk of something thinking they could accost him with school business. He was definitely going to have to establish a no shop-talk policy.

Stepping inside he looked around and smirked as he saw Dimitri. He made his way to the bar and sat down. "Well you don't look open, Russia, so I guess the scotch you're going to give me is just going to be a friendly - free - drink among friends, huh?" He grinned.

[Dimitri]

Dimitri had just poured himself a drink from one of the oldest bottles of Scotch on the shelf. Probably he should have saved it and sold it but that hardly seemed to matter now. Maybe if everyone else actually managed to make the school flourish again and people returned to the town things like money and profit and good business sense would matter again. Right now he just wanted to enjoy a drink.

Apparently that wasn't really in the cards either, though, as the first figure to darken his door (quite literally, really, as his large bulk practically filled it) was Gaston.

“Hardly sounds like a good business move,” Dimitri replied. But honestly? There was a part of him that wasn't entirely opposed to the company. At least Gaston wouldn't really care about anything personal, so there was that, and if he started trying to needle Dimitri there was always the topic of Gwen that could be brought up to distract him. “I'll tell you what. The first one is on the house, and it's a good one, but after that you're paying.” He smirked as he poured a second drink and slid it across the bar to Gaston and lifted his own glass.

[Gaston]

Picking up the glass he raised it in Dimitri's direction, giving the other man a small nod. "Doesn't seem right to charge a man to drink in a place that's not even in business." He muttered with a raised eyebrow, smirking a little. "Some might call that taking advantage." His tone was light, however, and as he brought the glass to his mouth and took a sip, he looked at Dimitri in surprise. "Decent stuff," he said with a small smile, raising his glass again as if to toast. "Thanks, Russia."

He took another sip before placing the glass back down on the counter. This was a drink to savour, and if he was going to have to pay for the next one he wasn't going to make the mistake of letting this one disappear too fast.

Leaning on the bar, he looked around the room. "So, what, you going to take over this place then? Please tell me you're getting rid of the ridiculous alien theme." He asked with interest. "Don't fancy a job up at the school? You know, I'm basically running the place now, so if you want job I'm sure we can come to some kind of arrangement." He grinned with a small wink.

Taking another sip and enjoying the warmth as the liquid ran down his throat, he grinned at Dimitri as he remembered something he'd been waiting for the opportunity to ask about. "So, Russia, what'd you do to piss of Arthur so bad?"

[Dimitri]

As much as Gaston was looking to take advantage of free drinks, he did kind of have a point. And honestly, Dimitri had been more joking than anything. It wasn't like he had paid for any of the bottles in this place, so what was one free bottle between them, no matter how much it would have earned had he sold it by the glass? The fact that Gaston actually seemed pleased with it and thanked him with no hint of insincerity helped, of course. Dimitri was just as surprised at that as Gaston was with the quality of the drink. “Gotta start somewhere,” he said, the statement purposefully vague.

Gaston took his time, savouring the drink, and Dimitri had the suspicion that it was due to his earlier statement about being the only free one. He saw no reason to clear that up anytime soon. Settling down on his own stool that he kept behind the bar, he looked around the place and shrugged. “I figured there's gotta be somewhere to drink around here, right?” he replied, swirling the liquid around in his glass before taking another sip. At the news that Gaston was 'basically running the place' he raised both eyebrows, clearly not quite believing it. “You? How'd that happen?” he asked. “I figured it'd be someone like Merlin, though they never really did have a good track record with who they picked.” More often than not the person was evil, so maybe he shouldn't be surprised, though Gaston had never really been evil so much as just a brute. Somehow Gwen had seen something good in him, though. A mystery for the ages.

Of course there would always be questions, and Gaston always had the tendency to know the worst ones to ask. Oh well, Dimitri figured he would have to get used to it as almost everyone here hated him for what he'd done, and those that don't just didn't know what happened and would want to know why he was so despised. “Sometimes something seems like a good idea at the time, but it doesn't work out and people get hurt.”