ORP: Friendly Fires

Logan couldn't help but let out a laugh as Lucas came around the side of the house with a rather impressive collection of alcohol. Thank the Gods, Logan said to himself - someone who understands a party! - Logan wasn't against the more modest version of parties - the kind adults traditionally hold, but he liked to drink. He had a bit of a moderation control, but he kept it fairly well concealed. Logan finished up his drink in a healthy swig, and put the glass down on the large table on the porch. Lucas had disappeared back around the house almost as quickly as he arrived - however, before Logan could greet him. Did he have more alcohol than this? Lords, this would be a party, after all. 

With Lucas' absence, he ducked in the house quickly, to one of the lower cabinets on the end of his counter top. This was the drinking cabinet. Inside was a wide assortment of accessories that any serious drinker should have. Bottle openers, wine stoppers, jiggers, shakers, swords and umbrellas. He looked down to the bottom of the cabinet, and smiled. He grabbed the box, and returned to the patio - leaving the sliding door open - bugs wouldn't be a problem, it would probably dip to the mid-50's after dark. 

When Lucas returned, carrying a couple plastic tubs - apparently he wanted to get a little classier than his milk crate. Logan didn't mind, presentation wasn't too awful important at a gathering of this caliber. While Lucas got situated, Logan opened the box he was carrying, and removed the contents. 10 plastic shot glasses, in assorted colors. Bright, neon colors, that didn't really match Logan's persona - but they were cheap, and neigh indestructible. Logan had once aspired to have a gorgeous collection of glass shots, but he learned quickly that that just meant more cleanup, and less of a collection. 

Lucas was apparently pretty hyped about this gathering, and Logan was alright with that. Up until now, the two of them had not killed each other, but Logan noticed a bit of tension coming from the young man. Logan intended to drink that away tonight, and have great time along the way. "Lucas, glad you could make it - and so well prepared!" He said with a smile, selecting an offensively bright green shot glass, and looked towards Lucas, tossing him a blue glass "As your XO, SHOTS!" he said, broadcasting his enthusiasm to all of the current partygoers. "Pick your poison, sir" he said, directed at Lucas

<TAG: Lucas "Saint" Clark - Ayden "Ghost" Sheppard - Farrah Byrne - Nicholas Syaira - @pyroriffic - Anyone Else>

Logan gladly allowed Lucas to fill his glass. He would have to bring a few bottles out himself - in his opinion a good host should never rely on other people for all of the provisions. Plus he could show off his bartending skills and mix a couple of his favorite shooters as well. Lucas had chosen vodka. Logan wasn't particularly a fan of vodka, as a shooter. Something about the vaguely floral taste. It wasn't as bad for shooting as gin, that was a nightmare. He preferred whiskey - but that never had, and never would stop him. A shot was an easy thing, do it quick, take the burn, enjoy the buzz. Flavor was a secondary component with this form of intoxication. Thankfully only gin was a concern. Vodka, whiskey, rum, and the rest didn't make him want to vomit after a couple of shots. Logan wasn't one to throw up at a party, its an event that had rarely happened in his experience. 

Logan offered his glass up and clinked it against Lucas' - giving a tiny noise of plastic hitting plastic, before he put it to his mouth and downed it. The burn was nice, in Logan's mind. It reminded him of his younger years, of more ignorant times, and unbridled fun. Adulthood came with professional and personal responsibilities that seldom allowed such behavior. He sorely missed it, and welcomed an opportunity such as this, to share this evening with his friends, surrounded by an alcohol based stupor - or so he hoped. 

Logan didn't cough, or choke, or gag after the shot. He let out a throaty "mmm" and sat his glass down on the table with a bit of force. He smiled, and looked to Lucas, a youthfulness in his eyes. "One down," he said, matter of fact. "good vodka, I can't stomach that McCormick crap" he said. It was a true story. Cheap liquor was rarely what it was labeled as, more like flavored grain alcohol. It had a habit of giving him bad heartburn the morning after. 

Logan turned to the wall of smoke coming from below, and thought it best to check the meat. It was probably about ready to come off - in fact. "If you all would excuse me, I need to head down and check on the meat." he said, heading down the stairs to the concrete patio below. It was a nice little area, secluded from the rain by the deck above, so it gave shelter, and he intended to do some planting down here next season, to give it character. He walked over to the smoker, and lifted the lid. Once more he was greeted by a thick cloud of white smoke, the aroma of wood chips, and sizzling meat. It was nirvana. 

He prodded a thermometer into one of the pork loins, and, satisfied with the temperature reading, he removed the thermometer and grabbed his tongs. He delicately picked up one pork loin, and transferring it to the large pewter tray sitting next to the smoker. Then the other. Then he grabbed the ribs, and closed the lid. He quickly closed off the vents, so that the fire would go out. The smoked pork would need to sit for a bit, to allow the juices to permeate, and the temperature to rise the next few degrees. He had a good number of preformed burger patties he could throw on the gas grill, but he figured he would wait on that, until he needed it. They would cook up quickly, so nobody would have to wait too much. Plus, he figured he had ample pork products for the group here, and lots more. 

He walked back up the stairs, carrying the heavy dish. The loins were probably 6-7 pounds each, and the ribs had some weight to them as well, he had spent good money to get ribs that had a healthy amount of meat on them. Nobody liked slim pickings. He passed the group of people on the deck, allowing the food to speak for itself, but he added "Almost ready folks," he said. He needed to cut everything up, and give the beans a quick stir. He figured everyone wouldn't rush in all at once, as they were still mingling. 

In the kitchen, he removed a super-sharp fillet knife from his utility drawer, and began dutifully slicing the loins into healthy half-inch pucks of deliciousness. They let out their juices as he sliced, cascading down the knife blade, and pooling on the dish below. He preferred to cook with a dry rub, reminiscent of his time in the south-west. He liked spicy, so to be sure, his food had a kick to it, but not anything lasting. Plus, it was only on the outside, for the most part, where the rub met the meat. On the inside, it was just tender and juicy, with a hint of the apple cider he had marinated them in. He then set to cutting the ribs, allowing a gracious amount of pork on both sides of the bones. He wasn't a fan of ribs, but he knew others loved them. 

Finally satisfied with his knifework, he dropped the knife into the sink, and walked to the fridge, sucking the rub off of his fingers. He pulled out some barbecue sauce, and a loaf of white bread from the drawer next to it. Simple food required simple additions. He liked it that way. He wasn't particularly fond of sauce, and let the meat speak for itself. He stirred the beans in the pot, and smiled. 

He grabbed a slice of the loin, and stuck it in his mouth - he walked out of the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of Irish Whiskey as he left, heading back onto the patio. He stuck the bottle of whiskey in with the booze Lucas had brought, finally taking a bite of the piece of heaven in his mouth, chewing happily. This was the making of a good night. 

<Tag: Everyone. Including you. you should be at my party.>