Bar
Ramiro watched as one of the Elysians bumped his way up to the makeshift bar. Ramiro look uncertainly as this man slammed his fists down onto the bar and began staring at Ramiro. Resting his arms on the bar and leaning forward, Ramiro stare right back. His eyebrows lowered and narrowed, his eyelids shifted into a slight squint, and his jaw clenched as Ramiro adjusted into his old drill sergeant's glare. He stayed there for the few seconds that it took Bel to decide an order. When she gave her order Ramiro's expression immediately adjusted back to smiling and care-free.
"Sure thing, kid! I think I've got some champagne around here somewhere..." He let his voice trail as he leaned sideways to look under the bar. "Op! There it is." Ramiro reached under the bar and pulled out the champagne, setting it down onto the bar. He also grabbed a champagne flute and buried it into his case of ice so it could chill while he made the drink.
"I think it's best that I don't go throwing this one to the sky," he suggested with a grin as he twisted the wiring off the top, pointed the bottle towards the ocean, and popped the cork out.
Between the shuttle ride and being carried out to the beach the bottle had taken a little turbulence, so the cork got quite some distance as a gentle stream of white foam cascaded from the bottle. Ramiro held it there for a moment to let the spray subside before the hoisted the bottle up to the bar and setting it down on the bar. He then grabbed one of the shaker cups, scooped some ice into it, and set that down on the bar as well. Picking up the lemon juice, he poured just under a shot into the cup and tossed the juice back under the bar. Reaching into the bag that was hanging off the bar he pulled out a small bottle of sugar syrup and squirted some into the shaker cup as well. Finally, he pulled out the gin and stuck a spout in the bottle.
Ramiro leaned forward and resumed his glare at Bel. Without breaking eye contact, he started doing a couple simple tricks, mostly tosses behind the back since that was frankly easier with Ramiro leaned forward. He ended by lowering the bottle below the bar, grabbing it by the neck, giving a big tug to pull it straight vertically before releasing and letting it rise and fall, catching it by the neck with an under-hand swiping motion, passing it around his back to the other hand, passing it off again in front of him, and with a firm under-hand drip on the neck he made a large windmill motion and ended with the bottle upside down over the shaker cup, his hand in a standard over-hand grip around the neck now that the bottle was upside down. He held it there for a little under two seconds - he made the drink a little stronger than normal - before flipping the bottle right side up, and then reaching down and placing it below the bar. He still hadn't broken eye contact.
He capped the shaker cup and grabbed it around the rim, wrapping his thumb and forefinger around the top. With one hand he shook the shaker cup. He finally had to break eye contact to turn to his ice crate and pull the flute out, now with a chilly mist clinging to it. He dug the flute through the ice to fill it about halfway before setting it on the bar, emptying the contents of the shaker cup to the glass, and the topping it off with the champagne.
Ramiro's expression brightened back up as he placed the champagne back under the bar. He put on a big smile and chuckled to himself as he lifted the drink and placed it at the far end of the bar. "One 75, m'lady," he flattered.
Now that he was done putting a drink together Ramiro turned his attention back to the other conversation.
"Probably a good idea not to get into a measuring contest. You'd both win and lose. Everyone's done something, and everything is different. Sure I've been around for a while, sure I've done some pretty cool and badass things in my time. What with the war and all. But since being assigned to the then Ketsurui-Taisa I've spent more time off this ship than on it, so you could say people like me are as much to blame as anybody."
Ramiro paused as he sipped his drink.
"Besides, it's what the post-war does. You're greatest friends are the people you marched through hell and back with, doesn't matter how brief it was or how long ago it was. And then when it ends everybody goes through the phase a little. I was immediately placed in a classroom, so I'll freely admit that I went through it much sooner and in a much different way than she did. But that being said, you're right that little gatherings like this will help. It's honestly how most of her earlier crew connected in the first place. Plus, with the impending war, I'm sure that battle comradery will kick into place."
Ramiro turned to look at Wazu. Lifting his glass, he clinked his glass against Wazu's. "So here's to staying on mission. Not only is it the best thing for her, but it's the best for our people and our homes."
