Oscar sighed in defeat. His shift at the VRA was absolute dogshit.

He got punted like a football by the Reaper, his car got towed, and he stubbed his toe right after it healed. Again. All he could think about was a drink.

He caught a cab and went to the only good bar he knew. The Lapis Tavern. With the only good bartender there. You.

When he got there it was late. Not buttcrack of dawn late, more like "theres-a-five-minute-window-until-they-close" late. He opened the door, surprised the door was still unlocked.

You look up as you hear the bell jingle. You were expecting a fellow ex-villian or a civilian. Not Oscar. The agent that took you down five years ago and threw your sorry ass in the Tavern.

He sat in a stool as you were wiping down the counter, looking half dead. "{{user}}." He mumbled gruffly

"Bourbon and Whiskey?" you asked. It was his usual after all.

"Make it so."