http://sassyqueermage.livejournal.com/ (
sassyqueermage.livejournal.com) wrote in
capeandcowllogs2011-06-23 11:37 pm
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Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO:
sassyqueermage, OPEN
WHERE: Outside the Tower.
WHEN: Today, early evening.
WARNINGS: Sassiness.
SUMMARY: Anders wants a drink. Badly. However, he has no idea where to look.
FORMAT: Prose.
After several minutes of fussing with his radio/communicator/demon box, he had opened up the text file Grace had sent him. He saw several names of what he presumed were pubs, but just to play it safe, he went with the establishment that actually had 'pub' in its name. Joe's Pub sounded good and straightforward. He liked that.
Slipping the radio/communicator/demon box into his bag, his hand skimmed over Ser Pounce-a-lot's back and he smiled as he picked up the cat from the depths of his bag. He slung his bag over his shoulder with his free arm and stood up to begin his trek through this monstrous city.
"Come on, Pounce. Let's hope we don't get ambushed by an ogre or another broodmother," he shivered, beginning to walk.
Then he realized he actually had no idea where he was going.
There were too many signs pointing in more than one direction and he hasn't even begun being freaked out by the fast vehicles on the road (at first he thought it was something he was going to have to kill, but on closer inspection he noticed people in them steering like one would do on a ship).
He could always ask someone for directions as much as it bruised his ego to do so. And he used to be so good at directions.
"Excuse me--can you spare a second--hello, will you--" Anders felt like he was talking to himself with these people brushing past and ignoring the apostate with a big MAGE sign on his back. With the way he was dressed differently, he thought that would at least give him some notice.
Anders looked down at Ser Pounce, absentmindedly scratching behind his ear. "Looks like this is the end of the road, Ser Pounce-a-lot. No food. No drink. Rude people everywhere--" he shot the next person he saw with a venomous look. "--and a demonic box for company.".
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WHERE: Outside the Tower.
WHEN: Today, early evening.
WARNINGS: Sassiness.
SUMMARY: Anders wants a drink. Badly. However, he has no idea where to look.
FORMAT: Prose.
After several minutes of fussing with his radio/communicator/demon box, he had opened up the text file Grace had sent him. He saw several names of what he presumed were pubs, but just to play it safe, he went with the establishment that actually had 'pub' in its name. Joe's Pub sounded good and straightforward. He liked that.
Slipping the radio/communicator/demon box into his bag, his hand skimmed over Ser Pounce-a-lot's back and he smiled as he picked up the cat from the depths of his bag. He slung his bag over his shoulder with his free arm and stood up to begin his trek through this monstrous city.
"Come on, Pounce. Let's hope we don't get ambushed by an ogre or another broodmother," he shivered, beginning to walk.
Then he realized he actually had no idea where he was going.
There were too many signs pointing in more than one direction and he hasn't even begun being freaked out by the fast vehicles on the road (at first he thought it was something he was going to have to kill, but on closer inspection he noticed people in them steering like one would do on a ship).
He could always ask someone for directions as much as it bruised his ego to do so. And he used to be so good at directions.
"Excuse me--can you spare a second--hello, will you--" Anders felt like he was talking to himself with these people brushing past and ignoring the apostate with a big MAGE sign on his back. With the way he was dressed differently, he thought that would at least give him some notice.
Anders looked down at Ser Pounce, absentmindedly scratching behind his ear. "Looks like this is the end of the road, Ser Pounce-a-lot. No food. No drink. Rude people everywhere--" he shot the next person he saw with a venomous look. "--and a demonic box for company.".
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"But they won't. Hopefully. Unless the divination's wrong. Always thought that stuff was a bit odd." He shrugged, then, and gave Anders a slight grin. "Thanks? I suppose."
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What was the proper etiquette on admiring someone who sacrificed their life for their loved ones? He would have asked Justice as he was the closest thing to this type of experience, but the spirit would just ramble on about blah blah blah.
"You're welcome. I guess." Awkward. "Are we almost there?"
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"Oh! Er. Yeah, it's just up there." He gestures at a pub a ways down the block. "Not the same as home, of course, but it's close. At least for me."
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"Mmm, maybe I should see if the Leaky Cauldron exists here, could take you sometime. There's a proper pub. Maybe next time I've got a chance to pop across to England."
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The pub came into view and Anders was happy to step forward and open the door into the familiar liquor stench atmosphere.
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Ooh, the pub! James followed him in and headed straight for the bar, choosing a seat for them both.