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"I trust you," says Trouble, who doesn't, but at least believes this kind of stocking must be a challenge. "Do I have time for a drink, while you're hosting?"
"Surprise me," they decide. "Something from outside Earth, if you've got it."
Bill gets out a shaker, seltzer, a bottle of something bright red, and starts mixing a cocktail.
"Thank you."
They fold their hands under their chin and watch.
"So what's the reasoning behind this little speakeasy? Just to have somewhere away from wardens' prying eyes?"
Ice goes in the cup, mixing mixing.
"....Mmhm. And what did you do to the Lounge that you're not allowed to work in there any more?" Trouble wonders.
"I TURNED THE SHIP INSIDE OUT! WHICH I DIDN'T DO FROM THE LOUNGE, OR USING THE LOUNGE, BY THE WAY. PUNISHMENT DOESN'T FIT THE CRIME!"
Bill finishes the drink off, puts an inappropriate but mandatory little paper umbrella in it, and teleports over to hand it to DT.
"TA DAAAA."
"Thank you, darling. Cheers," Trouble murmurs, and lifts the glass slightly before taking a sip.
Their eyebrows lift marginally.
"...Mm. Does this have a name?"
Even if everything else about it is down to how drinks in Redwall work, this drink is not capable of boiling anyone's bones.
Bill sighs.
"WE'RE GETTING SOME SUPPLY LINES IN, WHICH IS NICE AT LEAST! PEOPLE MAKING THEIR OWN STUFF!"
"Huh."
They sip their drink shallowly.
"Is that...safe?"
He sounds so excited to either poison someone or have a new kind of alcohol to drink, both are equally fun.
"HEY, HOW'S THE CLOTHES ROOM, BY THE WAY? YOU TWO LOOK LIKE YOU HAVE FUN UP THERE."
"Oh, we do! We're between supervisors at present, so if any of the laundry machines are broken then I guess it's in the lap of the gods."
As if they're going to work out how an Earth washing machine works.
Trouble peers at his tie.
"I believe you unconditionally, darling. People only ever think I'm wearing clothes because I'm making the effort to make it look like I am."
This may or may not be true.
Trouble manifests a pair of long dangly earrings, just for giggles.
"You could do that with layers, I suppose?"
He's just kind of spitballing, this probably won't get a lot of effort put into it.
Bill claps enthusiastically at the appearance of the earrings.
"ACTUALLY, THAT REMINDS ME! YOU'RE FROM ENTRAPTA'S WORLD, RIGHT? WE MIGHT HAVE A JOB FOR YOU, DEPENDING ON WHETHER WE CAN FIGURE OUT HOW TO PAY."
"...I am, yes."
They take another sip.
"Though I wouldn't call us friends. What's the job?"
Bill is comfortable with Entrapta's only priority being science. He floats down to sit on the counter, shifting out of work mode and into just living here mode.
"SHE AND I ARE WORKING TO SEE HOW POSSIBLE IT IS TO MOVE INFORMATION OUT OF THE SHIP AND INTO A STABLE WORLD. PROBLEM IS, TO SET UP ON HER END SHE'S GOT TO SURVIVE BEAST ISLAND."
Whatever that is. An island that is a beast? An island that has lots of beasts? An island that's just named that and is deadly for unrelated reasons? ... Not likely on the last one, things in DT's world seem like they're just named exactly what they are.
"YOU'RE THE ONLY PERSON WE KNOW THAT COULD MAKE IT BACK THERE AND SEND HER A DRONE FULL OF WEAPONS OR SUPPLIES! IF YOU GRADUATE, ANYWAY. I GUESS I SHOULD ASK WHAT YOUR POST-BARGE PLANS ARE."
"I have no idea, darling, but I can't say that Etheria is part of it. Also, Entrapta can just graduate herself and make her own arrangements to survive Beast Island, surely? She's nothing if not resourceful."
"Likewise. She really hasn't consisted the fragility of our situation here, has she? But that's children for you," Trouble says lightly, and drains their glass. "Do you have something less sweet?"
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