[ Peter lets out an almost affronted noise as the guy passes, pressing a hand to his chest and putting on a wide-eyed, scandalized look. ]
I'm not your type? Are you kidding? What's not to like?
[ please don't answer that.
But Peter takes the hint, leading them out of the library. The quiet scratching of the quills on parchment is almost kind of pleasant, but apparently they're writing some weird shit, so maybe not that pleasant? Who knows.
The bar in question is slightly out of the way, but still, thankfully, on the ground level. And in true ex-Ravager fashion, Peter has somehow managed to find one of the dives available in the village, where the drinks promise to be cheap and better suited to cleaning grease off engines than consumption by actual humans with their actual mouths, to be processed by their actual livers.
Places like these are practically a second home to Peter, and in spite of the new, exotic location, Peter still makes his way to the bar, seating himself comfortably on a stool. Once he catches the attention of the bartender: ]
He and I will have the strongest you've got.
[ For a second, Peter is content to leave it at that, but he jolts to attention, quickly leaning over the counter and emphatically adding, ]
Nothing magical.
[ And apparently that was an important distinction to make, because the bartender changes course accordingly. ]
no subject
I'm not your type? Are you kidding? What's not to like?
[ please don't answer that.
But Peter takes the hint, leading them out of the library. The quiet scratching of the quills on parchment is almost kind of pleasant, but apparently they're writing some weird shit, so maybe not that pleasant? Who knows.
The bar in question is slightly out of the way, but still, thankfully, on the ground level. And in true ex-Ravager fashion, Peter has somehow managed to find one of the dives available in the village, where the drinks promise to be cheap and better suited to cleaning grease off engines than consumption by actual humans with their actual mouths, to be processed by their actual livers.
Places like these are practically a second home to Peter, and in spite of the new, exotic location, Peter still makes his way to the bar, seating himself comfortably on a stool. Once he catches the attention of the bartender: ]
He and I will have the strongest you've got.
[ For a second, Peter is content to leave it at that, but he jolts to attention, quickly leaning over the counter and emphatically adding, ]
Nothing magical.
[ And apparently that was an important distinction to make, because the bartender changes course accordingly. ]