Of Pale Ale and Tall Tales Hares involved: Neville, Darklett. And Northpaw, for a pose. :P

Darklett's in no hurry. Paws swinging animatedly at his sides, the hare walks into the recreation room, nodding to a few acquaintances on his way to the bar, taking a seat between two empty ones, eyeing the bar for the barhare. "Neville! What do you say to a pale ale of some sort, eh? Gimme your best." He shoots a wink to the part time worker, his paws drumming on the bartop.

Neville yawns boredly, staring off into space as the hares currently occupying the recreation room amuse themselves with quiet games and whatnot, mainly keeping to themselves. A rather depressed looking chap nurses a beer at the far end of the bar, though Neville seems to ignore him, possibly only having served him that one beer during his whole stay. The barhare himself looks up as his name is mentioned and breaks into a wide grin, "Ahh, good evening Lieutenant" he says with a wink, "A pale ale indeed? Weeell I've got two on at the moment, ones just dark beer that was watered down as we were nearly out, but one's a light, crisps little number recently conconted, that'll be the best" he says with a proud nod, taking a spotlessly clean tankard and tilting it under the tap as he releases the valve, filling the mug to the top before placing it in front of the expectant hare.

Darklett smirks, looking around the bar area while he waits for his drink. "Ha! I can't imagine you serving anybeast watered down beer, Nev!" He snorts out a quick chuckle, eyeing the ale as it heads his way, and leaning forward to sip the little swell off the top of the mug. "You're too good, Nev. Didn't spill a drop!" He sips more at it before picking it up and taking a larger gulp. "Looking pretty lonely over here at the bar, Nev-- Your stock losing its flavor, or something?" He chuckles, fully prepared to defend himself should he be assaulted. XD

Neville distractedly peers suspiciously at the quiet non-drinking hare in the corner for a moment before looking back to Darklett with a laugh, "I was ordered to water it down would you believe?" cries the barkeep, disbelief wavering still in his own voice, "apparently we cannnot have patrollers getting drunk when theyre on duty... as if it's my fault they're drinking" explains Neville with a dark mutter. He shrugs, "Anyone who gets a pint gets warned about it so they know it ain't my normal stock, its a crime against brewing, thats what it is". He barkeep nods in approval as Dark appears to enjoy the proper pint and starts nodding in agreement before freezing. His eyes narrow and he mutters, "I've been known to bar officers before... don't make yerself another example of ungrateful custom". The rather unsubtle threat is allowed a moment to sink in before he changes completely, grinning and pouring himself a tankard. "Well now Dark, how was your day?"

Darklett shakes his head, tsking. "Pity, you shouldn't be forced to serve inferior beverages. Us patrollers have a lot to take out on these here tankards..." He taps the side of his own with a paw, picking it up and taking a draught of the ale, letting out a sigh as he licks his lips and swallows. "Hey! I was just kidding with ya, I don't want to be barred from here, no sir, Nev!" He grins in what he hopes to be a disarming fashion. "Well, my day's been pretty uneventful, although I've been doing my daily run -inside- the mountain rather than outside on the beach... What with the recent findings out there, and all."

Neville nods sadly in agreement, frowning slightly at the term inferior beverage, he corrects the newly promoted officer carefully, "Erm, actually Dark I'll have you know that was a fine, fine dark ale, perhaps the strongest and tastiest I've made yet... although it was rather heavy in the stomach and had more kick than a furious doe against a lecherous elder thats fer sure. Would've done me proud if it weren't for a certain officer downing a pint of the stuff and feelin rather worse fer wear the next day!" mutters Neville, a slight smile of satisfaction creeping in. "I'll have to admit yer day sounds more eventful than m'own. Still brewing up the next batches and its in the waiting phase, don't even have a pretty young doe around to keep me entertained" sighs Neville, quietly eyeing up a haremaid as she passes by the entrance.

"Well, that's all the worse, then! Ruining one of your finest creations, that's just wrong." Darklett takes another drink of his ale, looking at it with a nod. "This's pretty nice, Nev. I might make it my usual..." He snorts at the analogy the barhare gives, grinning and laughing, his expression staying light hearted. "Hey, why don't you request one? Oh, right, right, something about harassing the last one you had, right?" He sips at his ale, shrugs, and places it on the bar. "What all you have in the works, anyway?"

Neville nods in agreement at the ruining of one of his creations, "Although I must admit, fer the ruling type they're not that smart. I had a barrel of the good, strong stuff, I've not got a barrel of watered now strong stuff... one barrel plus a good half a barrel of water is... one barrel?" the barkeep says out loud, tapping his chin in a mock-confused manner. He grins and gives Dark a wink, "Its safe, doncha worry" he says with a conspiratorial wink. He glances over at the depressed chap again and frowns at the small amount missing from his tankard, another sip in the time most hare types would've gone through a whole mug. He glances back towards Dark just in time to hear the harassment crack and barks a laugh, "Look, she was very friendly and I misread it... nothing more" he says with a rather wide grin, sipping his own pouring of ale and placing it back under the bar. He looks thoughtful at the questionning of his creations, "Weell I've got a few beers brewing, obviously, a dark, a pale and a plain one th

Neville coughs as something gets caught in his throat and continues, "'Scuse me... where was I? Ah yes, and a plain one that I can spice later. The distiller is working hard, thinking of making it into honey liqour next, something sweet to flavour the ladies drinks and whatnot"

Darklett smiles as the barhare relates to him how he's beaten the system, his eyes rolling to the ceiling. "You know, I'm one of those ruling types now..." He winks though, jokingly, at the other. "You're safe, don't worry about that. Just keep it coming, and you'll be just fine." His glance follows over to the depressed hare, and he peers for a while as he listens to the rest of what Neville says, a soft laugh coming from him. "Right, right. Misread friendliness. Harassment. Heh." He turns back to Neville, looking interested in the drinks-to-come, so to speak. "Sounds good, sounds good... Woah, you alright there?" He gives the barhare a pat on the back as he seems to be choking... >.> "Ah, there we go. Heh, honey liquor or not, I'm sure it'll be good coming from you." He glances over to the depressed-looking chap again, shaking his head. "What's his problem? I haven't seen him take any more than a couple sips yet."

Neville looks over as a rather ruffled looking haremaid enters the bar and waves for service. He gives Dark a wink and slides over to have a quick word, nodding at her request, giving a quick run through of the drinks that suit it and making the final choice, all the while glancing back at Dark with a mischevious grin. When he finally tears himself and returns he nods in agreement to Dark's point about the depressed chap. He glances over and frowns at the ale which must now be nearly warm. He shakes his head, obviously distressed about the situation, although much more so about the beer than the drinker. He sighs, pondering whether to go and cheer the chap up or just to leave him to his misery. He glances back to the lieutenant, taking a sip of his own ale as he does so, "He said something about doe-trouble... got two choices I suppose, could try and fix him up with the doe over there" he glances over and gives a small wave at the flirty doe and looks back, "Or get him to drink up and drown his sorrows... eith

Neville coughs again and thumps his chest slightly, emitting a loud burp, "Agh, sorry, that rotter of an otter we call a cook gave me a relentlessly hot luncheon, keeps repeating on me" explains the barhare glancing back at the haremaid distractedly, "As I was saying, either works with the chap"

Darklett follows the barhare's glance, and then his movement as he goes down the bar to take the doe's order. He shakes his head, placing a paw on the side of his face as he uses his bar savvy to sweet talk the young miss, chortling and turning away so as to not steal the attention. He smirks at Nev as he makes his way back, shaking his head in a sort of... disapproving approval. If that makes any sense. "I would say you hook him up. You never know, you might make his day! Besides, it's not like he's treating your work very well..." He watches as the depressed buck STILL forgets his drink before him. "Anyway..." He downs a few gulps of the ale quickly, giving that same appreciative sigh, the tankard just about empty.

Neville looks thoughtful for a moment, glancing between the depressed chappie and the buxom young lass on opposide sides of the bar, looking for a moment like he's watching a fast-paced game of tennis. He frowns and looks back to Darklett, "Thats the thing though, if it were a grateful customer I'd want to do him a favour and whatnot, ensure his...erm... generosity" confides Neville with a grin before he goes back to looking slightly concerned, "Not sure I want to go out of my way to help a chap who's just not enjoying the stuff... although he might enjoy it if cheered up". He ponders the dilemma and looks up as Dark nears the end of his tankard, his brings up the already-prepared ale, having anticipated its predecessor's soon departure and gotten one ready. He looks back down to the doe, "On the other hand... I reckon I might have a chance m'self" says Neville, mostly to himself, now thoroughly torn between helping a customer and helping himself.

Darklett nods, his mouth open in an ah statement. He downs the last of his ale, licking at his upper teeth for a few seconds. "Just what I was thinking. If he was a little more on the chipper side, he might be downing forty times as much as he is now." He looks down as another ale has replaced his first, and he snerks, smirking up at Nev. "You're too good, Neville. Way too good." He sips at the second, his eyes moving down to the depressed chap. "But look at him. He's just plain down. It's not good for the morale of the whole Patrol if one of us is having a bad time." Those eyes move back down to the lass. "Then again, if you think you have a chance, you've got the power to get her nice and... inebriated. Meh, I'm no matchmaker, do as you please." He sips his ale with satisfaction, his paw drumming on the bar. "At least ask him if he's gonna finish that before it gets warm."

Neville hangs his head and shakes it sharply to clear his sense, "Darn... I knew it... I'm too much of a barman at heart to let one of my customers miss out" he grumbles. He potters over to the doe and has a few words, both glancing over to the lonely chap at the other end of the bar as the barhare explains the situation, the doe nodding and whispering back occasionnaly, looking slightly reluctant then her ears perking up as Neville mentions one last thing, nodding sagely. Neville heads over to the depressed chappie, taking away the cuddled beer and wincing at the warmth of the tankard, ignoring the pleas of the cuddler-hare. He pours it into the slops bucket, looking very pained to to do so and pours a fresh one and a glass of what appears to be wine from one of the bottles of the shelves. He grins at the confused look from the hare and says, "You asked to buy the lady a drink" quite loudly, nodding graciously to the doe as she approaches, looking all rather surprised at the drinks offer and moving in to chat

Neville takes his leave and returns to the lieutenant, looking rather proud of himself.

Darklett looks rather amused at the series of events as they unfold, following the action closely as he nurses his ale, smiling behind his mug as he talks the doe into getting together with that lonely hare. And it seems to be working, too! Good ol' Nev. He tries to look nonchalant as he watches, but he gives it up and just plain rubbernecks, peering as the doe starts moving over to the lonely hare, chuckling at Neville's exclamation. He shakes his head, gulping down one more drink as he watches Neville come back. "Good job, Nev," he says quietly, "but... What did you say to her that made her want to go talk to him?"

Neville takes a large gulp of his ale and looks forlornly at the doe as she clings closely to the now-rather-cheerful-looking hare and sighs, "Why am I so nice eh?" he asks the ceiling, looking back towards the lieutenant he smirks, "Alright, maybe I'm not so nice..." he gestures for the officer to lean in and whispers the message across, looking rather pleased with himself, devilishly mischevious and slightly guilty all at once, like a certain old colonel after successfully raiding a cellar of fine ale. He glances back and smirks, "Might hafta make myself scare tomorrow though, never know what events this might trigger... might be good, might be bad" he says with a chuckle.

Darklett leans across the bar and gives the barhare's arm a pat. "There'll be more, Nev, there'll be more." He downs some more of his drink, eyeing the substantially happier buck. The lieutenant leans in, his ears perked as Neville whispers to him... The buck clenches his eyes shut, and plops back down on his stool, laughing hysterically, his face buried in his forearms as he muffles his laughter with the... bar. x.x When it dies down, he looks up, shaking his head at the barhare. "You will -definitely- have to make yourself scarce tomorrow, oh-puller-of-strings..."

Northpaw walks into the room, in fine spirts. He winks at all the young does, and causes a general giggle among the does. He walks over to the bar, and says, "Neville, a ale please.". He turns around and sees Darklett, "Hello Darkyhows the patroling doing?". He walks over to Darklett. His eyes twinkle at the two hares.

Neville smirks and shakes his head, "I'm not sure I'll need to worry about tomorrow Dark ol' chap. Y'see that there wine the lass is drinking" asks the barhare, nodding towards the glass in the doe's hand, its contents decreasing rather rapidly, "Well thats not really wine... well it is but its something I'm tryin' out. Its a light white with a meadowy, flowery taste with a delicate helping of the honey liqour I was telling you about". The barhare shakes his head with a grin, "Seems to be going down rather well and that chap's looking a tad affected by the beer... might be he's not a drinker... or theres summit in his as well". Neville permits himself a slight cackle, the characteristic mad-scientist sound appearing as he does so before he regains control and smooths down his headfur. "Aanyways, I reckon their heads'll be a bit too sore tomorrow to be worrying about an innocent barhare's imagination eh?" he says to Dark with a grin. He turns to see Northpaw entering and nods as he takes the order, pour

Neville frowns and mops up the slight spillage where he lost concentration whilst pouring, perhaps due to the rather lovely young lass walking past the entrance at the time..."Been a while since thats happened eh?" he says with a grumble, finishing pouring a tankard of dark lite, the forced lightened version of his dark ale.

Darklett raises a brow. "You... drugged them, pretty much, then." He watches the two flirting and talking and chatting... ech. "Yeah. I'm not so sure that's a very good thing to do." He turns to Neville, his face betraying his words as he grins, obviously not too much one of those mature officers quite yet when it comes to pranks and jokes. "Wow... You're too good, Nev." He downs the rest of his ale, placing the mug down on the bar right when a messenger comes up to him, catching his attention with a... rather too loud... "SAH!" Darklett turns around, and finds a sizeable stack of papers being held in his face. "...Thanks. Go on, then." He waves off the messenger, turning to Nev and waving the papers at him. "Lucky me."

Neville sighs and rolls his eyes as more hares enter the room, he glances about, the majority of seats now occupied by the wide spectrum of patrollers who frequent his establishment. He glances towards the group who pile towards the bar, each trying to catch his eye and subtly hint that they should be first to be served, he gives Dark a moment more of his time. He rolls his eyes at the suggestion of drugging, "This is a bar, a purveyor of alcoholics delights if ya will sah, so if I purvey them with alcohol, I don't see whats wrong with it, s'wot I'm here for eh?". Neville grins broadly before he sighs and gives in to the now none-too-subtle hints from the thirsty hares and excuses himself to get on with the business of the evening, catering for the thirsty hordes of the patrol, leaving the lieutenant to his paperwork, knowing from Ear how much fun that can be.