Who: Thomas Hickey and Sam Merlotte What: Thomas needs some "medicine" Where: The Hanged Man When: Monday evening. Rating: Curses, but low. Status: In Progress
This place was a real kick to the pants. Not only had he been dumped here by some voodoo magic-or-rather he had been stiffed on payment. After having been informed by some man all about the money worth and little shiny box, Thomas had been left to his own devices. This, of course, meant going to an inn or tavern and getting drunk on what little money he had for it.
Hopefully there would be a few unsuspectings at the bar that he could weasel a bit more money out of.
Thomas was slumped on a bar stool in his usual outfit, and getting looks because of it, now on his third pint (it was a strange pint too, all foamy and made of glass. Of all things!) Granted, it tasted watered down, but he wasn't going to complain: drinks was drinks after all, and as long as they got him to the point of not giving a hoot, he'd gladly keep tossing them down his gullet.
Entertaining thoughts of Haytham and the others, Thomas wondered what they were doing exactly without him there. Nursing both his glass and slightly buzzed ego after getting a slap from a female npc customer, Thomas burped, swiping his mouth with the back of a hand before setting the glass back down on the bar, Cockney accent slightly slurry. "Lets 'ave another."