(Untitled)

[littlebetter]

"Anyone know how in hell to get a drink in this place?"

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[mad_leprechaun]

"Drink? Did somebody say drink?" He eyes Gaheris. "You buying?"

[littlebetter]

"Thought you didn't have to buy anything here."

[mad_leprechaun]

He shrugs. "Old habits die hard, man."

[littlebetter]

"Fair. Do you know where we can get something, then?"

[mad_leprechaun]

"Man, I'm a fucken leprechaun. Pretty much all ya gotta do is hang around me. What's yer poison?"

[littlebetter]

"Damned Celts," with a faint smile. "What's strongest? I don't care."

[mad_leprechaun]

"Kitchen. I keep the strong stuff in the kitchen." He lays a finger beside his nose and winks. "Wouldn't want the boy to worry, y'know."

[littlebetter]

"Of course not," whether or not he understands, which he probably doesn't.

[mad_leprechaun]

Sweeney's quite used to people not understanding him, he is a little bit mad after all. He starts off for the kitchen, waving for Gaheris to follow.

"So what are ya, then?"

[littlebetter]

"What am I?" He hurries along after Sweeney. "I don't know, how are you asking?"

[mad_leprechaun]

"You called me a damned Celt, so I'm asking ya what you are." He grins good-naturedly. "Otherwise it kinda leaves me at a disadvantage fer damning ya, know what I mean?"

[littlebetter]

"Oh, sorry. I'm an Orkney. Not Scottish," he adds as an afterthought. Because they're not, damn you.

[mad_leprechaun]

"Oh, so yer one of them lot. Damned Orkneys." He heads into the kitchen and starts digging through cabinets, looking behind stacks of plates for the bottles he stashed.

[littlebetter]

"We are." Gaheris follows, suddenly almost cheerful, his usual anxiety around strangers disappearing almost entirely. "Damned breed."

[mad_leprechaun]

"Never got that far north m'self, but I figure that'll do it to ya. Ah ha, here we are. Sweet mountain dew."

He plunks down a large bottle of high proof Southern Comfort.

"Knew me'n Spade left a bottle down here."

[littlebetter]

"Thank all that's holy."