The bulky booze reserves Tamsin had reeled in during their last stop had no real end in sight. So great was their wealth that this time around, they'd actually just put wine and beer barrels out to function as tables across the community center
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She rolled her eyes as she picked up a nametag and pinned it onto her jacket. "So lame."
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Well. Not much.
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He picked up a nice, cold glass of tomato juice at the bar, leaned back, and eyed the floor.
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"I think your hair got better with age," he said, grinning. "Hey."
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He waved at Roscoe with his juice. "What's up?"
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So, you know. Oldies.
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Okay Robin may be singing along while cutting a rug as well.
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He'd gotten hit upside the head last night. He was going to swear up and over that it'd been in some combat engagement, and he had not at all not been paying attention when one of the 10-year-olds had decided to test his reflexes by throwing a lightsaber at his head.
(See, this is why he had never wanted a Padawan.)
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"Hey, look who the cat dragged in," Sparkle drawled, smirking as he made his way over to park himself next to Atton. "Wasn't sure you were going to make it back in time for this thing, you know."
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Then stopped rolling his eyes. It hurt.
"And I mean long."
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But that's not what you meant, is it?
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'Cause she's pretty.
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( ... )
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