---PREAMBLE
This is my first real attempt at attempting to introduce and use multiple characters with multiple different quirks in one work.
To add on to this, it's also in a short timespan, too.
The general idea is that I'm throwing stuff at a wall and seeing if it sticks.
I wholly accept this is probably going to turn out as a hard-to-parse mess.
It's also in my usual "in medias reis pseudo-exerpt" format, which I really should break from at some point.
That being said, I had a ton of fun writing this, in the end.
---

"Right!" A skinny fellow, about 23, claps his hand together. "Who's having what? Linky? Cals?" A trio of friends were gathered around the table.
The first, skinny, brown hair, and for whatever reason, insisting on wearing Ray-Ban Wayfarers 3 hours after dark. The second, short, small, long-haired,
and svelte was hunched over nursing a Fairphone 5. The last person was tall, laying back, and holding a birds' nest of orange hair and a wry grin.
He spoke up first, "Dark Fruit, please, Jesse." The sunglasses kid pivoted to the smaller of the two, "Lincoln?" "That Bad Wolf ale seems like my
kind of drink." A small smile unfurled from their lips. Jesse clapped his hands. "Right, Strongbow Dark Fruit, Bad Wolf, and,
I know I shouldn't, but I'm going to start the night with a Fireball whiskey, 'cus I've got a bit of a cold."

A moment passes, and the glasses slide over. In a form of synchronised ballet, everyone takes a sip.
The orange hair kid pipes up, "So, what was that about a supposed 'magic sword'?" Jesse nods, "I know what it sounds like. It's not me leading on to some
innuendo or something stupid." Another sip. He coughs, muttering under his breath. "It's," he clears his throat, "and I know this sounds like
another one of my bonkers schemes, most likely Excalibur."
"Right, 'Excalibur'. You trying to be Merlin, then, Jesse?" Lincoln piped up. "No, no, I just thought it'd be nice for Callum. Didn't you say you had
some sort of-- like-- demon problem?" Callum gulped down a quarter of his cider, "Well, they aren't really Christian demons, you know.
More like the Jotun from the old Norse myth. Not trying to corrupt the youth or anything, just going about wrecking things. Plus, with the current state
we're in, it's bound to show up some place."

Lincoln takes a sip, "OK, Jesse, how are you sure this is what you think it is?"
"Because I've got a contact."
"Alright, I'll bite, who's this 'contact', then?"
"Nials Abrams, they call him the 'Goth King of Rochester'. Turns out, he's also a wizard like me."
A collective groan from the peanut gallery.
Jesse retorted, necking his drink. "You know what, just because we both had to earn our magic, doesn't mean we don't deserve any less respect."
Callum answered, "Well, I'd say it's more the matter that your magic doesn't tend to work, and since you're the only
real wizard we know, that's our basis." Jesse thumbed his drink. "Fair point. I'm going to grab a real drink. Be right back." In a slight haze after
gulping down hard cider, Callum craned his neck over to an adjacent table. "Oi, Link, you see that?" Lincoln rubbernecked in tow, "Yes. It's a girl."
"Well, I was thinking of g--" "if you're implying I shift in public for the sake of seducing someone, I would highly suggest you reconsider."
Callum chuckled, somehow managing to finish his drink despite only about 2 minutes passing. "No, no, well, I have to admit one of those forms is quite
a looker, but that's not what I'm on about. I think she's 'one of us'." He winked, Lincoln squinted at her. "Well, I can't see anything, like, sparkly."
"No, no, I can recognise others, I'm seeing pointy ears, she's a Noble." A voice appeared behind Callum, "You going to show her Excalibur, then?"
Callum snapped around, his face rotting into an expression of disgust. "Are you genuinely suggesting I court a exiled Noble?!" It was Jesse, holding a
Stella Artois. "Oh, right. Innuendo." He sipped. "I was talking about literally showing her an actual sword." Callum hesitantly nodded.
"Right, and why would that help?" "Upperclasswomen love legendary swords. Might help with that yotun problem you seem to be having."
"They're Formorians, but sure, whatever, I'll go talk."
"Oh, before you do, it's Lincoln's round, what do you want next?"
"Biddenden's. You know me and fermented fruit."
Callum slinked over to the table, she was with a few of her friends. "Excuse me, dear, I would like to talk to you for a second." She smiled. "Well, if one
is to provide a gift." Callum pinched his forehead, "Oh goodness me, oh goodness me, I apologise, madam. I don't have any ca--" "A gift in the style of
here, please." The cogs turned in his head. "Oh, right, what will it be, madam?" He shuddered at the following word: "Prosecco." A deep breath, he regained
his composure, "but surely, some of the finest reds and whites for a dame of your calibre?" "No, no, just some prosecco. 'Tis a mild craving."
A bank transaction and a pouring later, they ajourned to a nearby table. Callum made the first move, "So, apparently, one of my brothers in arms has
supposedly found Excalibur, and--" A goblet of cider slammed in front of him. Jesse. "'ere you go! Oh, don't mind me, just ensuring my friend is well
watered. I'll withdraw to Table HQ."

---

AND AGAIN, I RAN OUT OF TIME, I SWEAR I'LL FINISH THIS