(no subject)

[howmanynipples.livejournal.com]

Shadwell is lurking by the bar, trying to get some service in this heathen place.

He's really craving a nice cup of tea, but he'll settle for anything that doesn't feature the blood of virgins.



[OOC: If anyone would like to explain the "magical bar" concept for him, go right ahead-- but please can it only be the first person to tag? Love you all.]

Comments

[howmanynipples.livejournal.com]

He watches her for a long moment to observe any potentially witchcrafty side effects, such as transformation into a familiar or overrunning of the body with pustules.

Then, appearing satisfied, he imbibes approximately one drop of tequila.

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

She glares at him again,

"That's good Tequila, and you had better not waste it."

Although it sounds a little bit more like "If you do not drink that I will find a Niflheimspawn who is willing to do everything that you have ever feared that they might think about." if you actually listen to the words.

[howmanynipples.livejournal.com]

His face, which had been approaching a grayish sort of shade, flushes nearly skin-toned again with righteous anger.

"Don't ye rush me, missy."

Very deliberately, he takes a drink.

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

As long as he drinks. She nods, has another swig from her glass, and smiles slightly.

[howmanynipples.livejournal.com]

Shadwell returns the smile with a glower. It is, however, a generic sort of glower, the sort that one suspects does not leave his face even while he sleeps.

He takes another drink, smacking his lips speculatively.

[banished-to.livejournal.com]

They have something in common now.

Tequila.

Woo.