Romeo Montague (
withoutverona) wrote2010-01-01 02:13 pm
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Slainte Pub, The Bowery, NYC, Friday
After stopping at the brunch, Romeo made his way to a bar where it seemed vaguely possible the more medieval members of their party would either fit in, or have enough Guinness that it didn't matter.
"Is this all right?" he asked, more as a point of courtesy than because he actually had any interest in going anywhere else. He was feeling lazy and self-satisfied.
[OOC; For those who know who they are.]
"Is this all right?" he asked, more as a point of courtesy than because he actually had any interest in going anywhere else. He was feeling lazy and self-satisfied.
[OOC; For those who know who they are.]
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"I had a good one," he ventured. "Went out drinking in the afternoon, then the party. I might not have had as much champagne as Merlin, though."
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"I ain't got no idea what your definition of a proper pudding is supposed to be, but now I'm kinda curious, yo." A pause. "And worried. Curious an' worried."
This was pudding in a world where people ate octopus. Honestly, now.
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who had been oddly quiet so fardeclined the offer of cigarettes and kept to the Guinness. That wasn't really to his taste either, but he wasn't going to complain. Just possibly order something else next."If it's proper by your standards then I'm sure they don't have it."
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"Blood." A pause. A very pointed look. "And grain."
Another very pointed look.
"I'd eat somethin' like that, if I was on the losin' end of a bet, maybe."
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"There are... spices. Of sorts."
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"Here's where I gotta do the obvious and ask what sorts of spices we're talkin' about, yo."
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