The culture is completely foreign to him. He leans close to Andres and whispers. "Do people from where I'm supposed to look like I'm from often come here? Or am I supposed to look like I know what's going on?"
Whether it's the best or not doesn't make any difference to Lee; it isn't like any of the inns have indoor plumbing. It does smell kind of like a public men's room, though. Fantastic.
He half-listens to Gorlim's question, but he's more preoccupied with the armored men, whom he eyes discreetly and warily. CTU combat training is not going to help him against someone with a sword.
"No, indeed not. Look as lost as you wish. Though I can answer any of your questions."
Then he glances at Lee, and grins at his reaction. "The rooms are not so bad. I promise." Then he darts a glance at the armored men as well. "By their tabards, they are Knights of The Rose and Cross. Friends of a sort. Do not be wary of them. It will only draw unnecessary attention." He pats him on the back reassuringly, and glances around for someone to take orders.
"As you say, Andres." He gives the soldiers a casual nod and smirks at Lee... or rather, at the look on Lee's face. "Not fancy enough for your sensibilities, Earth-man?" He shoves his shoulder, teasing.
He looks away from the soldiers before they notice him.
"A little fancier than what I'm used to, that's all." He's used to flak jackets, not chainmail. Though he's rather lost his faith in them after they utterly failed to prevent him from getting killed.
He glances over at Gorlim. I have a name, Tolkien boy. You didn't have a problem with using it when we were in bed.
He leans against the table. "Absolutely," he agrees. "In fact, I was just thinking exactly that, and ye know what this big oaf said to me the other day? He said it's high time you got yourself some you-stay-dees eastian vie-a-hair-as. That's what he said, bless my heart, lass."
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He half-listens to Gorlim's question, but he's more preoccupied with the armored men, whom he eyes discreetly and warily. CTU combat training is not going to help him against someone with a sword.
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"No, indeed not. Look as lost as you wish. Though I can answer any of your questions."
Then he glances at Lee, and grins at his reaction. "The rooms are not so bad. I promise." Then he darts a glance at the armored men as well. "By their tabards, they are Knights of The Rose and Cross. Friends of a sort. Do not be wary of them. It will only draw unnecessary attention." He pats him on the back reassuringly, and glances around for someone to take orders.
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"A little fancier than what I'm used to, that's all." He's used to flak jackets, not chainmail. Though he's rather lost his faith in them after they utterly failed to prevent him from getting killed.
He glances over at Gorlim. I have a name, Tolkien boy. You didn't have a problem with using it when we were in bed.
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Because he's on his own turf now, and could vanish rather easily without a trace. Leaving the children to their own devices and unable to get back.
He waves over one of the innkeepers.
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"Buenos tardes, señores. ¿Qué quieren ustedes?"
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"Good evening, lassie," he simpers, emphasizing his accent until it's almost a little hard to understand.
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"God gi' good e'en, pretty maid."
It's what Mercutio would say.
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"Tres tequilas Por favor, señorita. Ignórelos por favor"
He grins.
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"Y ustedes, señores." And she hurries off to get the drinks.
She returns a few moments later with a bottle of tequila and three rocks glasses.
She sits on the bench next to Gorlim and simpers right back at him. Batting her eyelashes, "¿Ustedes estan viajeros?" She asks.
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He flashes Gorlim a quick you idiot look and clears his throat, smiling charmingly at the waitress.
"There's more than one gentleman at this table, pretty one."
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"Perdónelo. El es bebido" He mutters.
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"Very well Gentlemen." She says with a smile and thick accent.
"I will leave you to your drinks now, but if you need anything..."
She turns and walks away.
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