Joey Alexander knows he is good (fornothing) wrote in rooms,
Re: [Wayne Tower: Alexanders]
[The request for more than one bottle only made sense, they were Alexanders and their ability to destroy liquor was kind of a genetic mystery that might one day be studied by the Discovery channel or some shit. Which isn't to say that it couldn't get the best of them. A scrap that treaded outside the bounds of goodnatured could probs be expected, and Joey anticipated that at least one of the girls would probably end up drunk-crying over missing everyone or some other fucked up thing that would inevitably make him feel weird and segregated in the realm of exposed emotions and things that couldn't be put back together like a loose bolt on a bike.
The Alexander guys didn't really qualify as talkative unless they were bullshitting, and Callum seemed to be just the same despite whatever number of years spent abroad. When Joey returned, there was a little nod given to the unfamiliar, but obvious missing brother. He had a pair of amber bottles tucked into the crook of one arm. The selection hadn't been your average discount liquor store special brand names, so everything had been kind of unfamiliar. Still, he recognized words like bourbon and cognac. He handed the cognac off to Louis for pouring, muttering something about being called fucking Coco, before he motioned to Sam.] Pull us down some glasses, kid. [Head tilt and a burning sip straight from the bourbon bottle as he gave her a look reserved for disapproving older brothers.]
No fucking shopping. [It hadn't been long enough from his escape of zombie jail to consider Gotham jail to be that good of an idea just yet.]