Slainte Pub, The Bowery, NYC, Friday

[withoutverona]

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.]

Comments

[bitchprince]

One of the two medieval members of the party had made sure to wear (very expensive) modern clothes to this trip, so it wasn't like he had that much trouble fitting in. Still, Arthur was sort of appreciative of the choice. "Looks more than all right," he said, jovially, pulling his scarf off in the meanwhile.

Wearing those everywhere was Merlin's occupation. "First round's on me." Okay, 'jovially' was maybe the wrong word, taking soreness and a slight hangover into account, but Arthur was nothing if not dedicated to the task of keeping such things way from view.

Well. Sometimes.