Of drinking buddies (and demonic jeepers) [say, Friday? Saturday? It's *the weekend*.]

[karaokedemon]

So. Seeing as the resident counselor has found a fellow fan of a variety of alcoholic beverages in the resident Jedi knight, what better way to celebrate this new-found common denominator than to socialize with a few drinks?

As long as neither of them are aiming at getting hammered, or even remotely wasted, what can go wrong

Comments

[force_of_life]

It's mildly terrifying to think of the number of realms, planes, planets and solar systems they can raid between the in the search for a good drink.

Luke turns up with a backpack and plans to make sure that Lorne stops fussing and worrying for one night. He drums his knuckles on the door, a silent voice calling through the door. Lorne? 's just me.

[karaokedemon]

Oh, thank goodness. Not that he's got anything to worry about, technically speaking, no, shush you nosy people reading this.

The door opens, and Lorne gestures for Luke to come on in, make himself comfortable. This often boils down to claiming one of the armchairs as his own, because, really... Between the vanity-slash-desk, bed and small book shelf, what is there left where furniture's concerned?

A carpet. Non-magical.

"Right on time, sweetie."

[force_of_life]

Luke claims his usual armchair. Unlike usual, he does so after stopping to undo his boots and leave them by the door, padding across the room on near silent bare feet. The backpack is put down. "I raided Han's cabinet with Leia's blessing. I don't know what half of this is.

"Jedi are always on time. Except when they're not."

[karaokedemon]

"Sounds like the words of a wise man to me."

Lorne putters about, watching his friend without actually watching. "So, what are we having tonight? I have everything from Budweiser to Rioja."