Wade Savage (wadesavage) wrote in quiddproquo, @ 2012-10-19 14:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | ceridwen cadwallader, wade savage |
WHO: Wade Savage and Ceridwen Cadwallader
WHAT: Drinks.
WHEN: Friday evening, October 19th, 1998
WHERE: The King's Headless, Falmouth
SUMMARY: Meeting at a pub for some conversation, and maybe something more.
RATINGS/WARNING: PG13 (swearing!)
STATUS: Closed. In progress.
Fuck. He could use a drink. Or several. But Wade had no intention of repeating the travesty of earlier in the week. At least for a while. If the team didn’t start winning, and bloody fucking soon, he wasn’t going to make any promises for his sobriety. But for the moment, he’d restrict himself to non-alcoholic beverages. For the good of mankind. Wade snorted as he reached the bar, leaning forward and resting on his arms. Or the good of the example he was apparently supposed to be setting as coach. His eyeroll was expressive. Fuck examples. He was a coach. Not a public figure head. And hell, if they hadn’t thrown a fit about it when he was a player and under a considerably bigger microscope, they could just deal with him as a coach. Or actually, Wade grinned, they could just go fuck themselves really.
He waved a hand at the bartender to get his attention. “Just water.” Fuck he hated asking for water. But… he sighed quietly, tilting his head down to stare at the bar top in front of him. He had the potential for very engaging distraction tonight, and he intended to enjoy himself. Wade smirked a little. He’d known Ceridwen, from a distance at least, as a player. But not well. Their little journal exchange had gotten him considerably more intrigued. And he was testing the waters, so to speak.
The pub was busy, and noisy, but not packed. And he had been a couple minutes early. Hazards of living so close. He tilted his head to the side, watching the crowd idly, eyes scanning for familiar blonde hair.