dwarvenswagger (
dwarvenswagger) wrote2015-07-19 10:44 am
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Pog Mahone's Irish Pub, Baltimore, Sunday Evening
As Thorin did not particularly know how to find another tavern, save for wandering around the city and getting lost, he took Anders back to the one location he'd already been to.
Which also meant more of those 'Irish nachos'. So. It would be a trip well worth it.
He hauled two pints of ale back to the table, setting one in front of Anders before grumpily hauling himself up onto the far too high seat. Tall folks designed things poorly.
[For the lovelorn guy with him!]
Which also meant more of those 'Irish nachos'. So. It would be a trip well worth it.
He hauled two pints of ale back to the table, setting one in front of Anders before grumpily hauling himself up onto the far too high seat. Tall folks designed things poorly.
[For the lovelorn guy with him!]
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He was such a good friend!
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"I could find my way back just fine."
Liiiiies.
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"Of course," he said mildly. "So, shall we start with ales and that nacho thing?"
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"So," he said, "did you take the driving class again this term? I skipped it."
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Because explosions.
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Thorin nodded at that, taking a sip of his ale. "Have you thought on your troubles?"
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"Yes. Mostly, I decided my problem is I think too much," he said. "I did talk to Face, though. Cassandra went home to take her final vows as a Seeker."
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Never. Again.
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"I'm not getting that drunk again," he decided. "I know you can outdrink me, and I'm man enough to admit it."
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Or an elf. Damn elves.
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He got no respect from his friends.
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Someone had programmed Iggy Azalea on repeat. It was very fancy.
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