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[Jun. 23rd, 2009|07:24 pm] |
*having spent quite a few weeks at sea, comes to shore near Cape Balar* *doesn't even attempt to re-enter Delving because all the talkings-to in the world won't make the springs and rivers and pipes change their minds about admitting him*
*shaking the water out of his hair (and skin and bones), ambles into his favourite pub in this part of the world - the Anchorman* *is surprised to pick up on unexpected, but familiar, strains of Maiar music in the vicinity* |
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[Jun. 23rd, 2009|09:06 pm] |
*is hunched on his favorite seat at his favorite bar, dismantling his second plate of wings and keeping an eye on the television (his favorite team's playing a halfway decent game, for once)*
*strips half the meat off one of the wings just as a pass misses by a mile—figures they'd blow it soon as they were getting ahead* *joins a group of guys down the bar in complaining, loudly and as fervently as any true fan would* Oh, c'mon, what the hell d'they pay these assholes for?? |
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blah
annoyed