PUUUUUUUUB!

[tar_calion]

*Is in his once-weekly I HATE MY FATHER strop.*

*Contemplates going to the Consulate but decides against it, thinking that daddy dearest might still descend on him with a new inbox, with shiny new paperwork for him to sign, file, worship and adore.*

No. Screw it. I'm going to the pub.

Comments

[2nd_no_3rd_king]

*is sitting at the bar*

*has nothing else to do, after all*

[tar_calion]

*Comes up to the bar and orders a pint of stout*

No. No. I DON'T want a little shamrock in the head for St. Aule's Day. No. Just give me my drink. Why are still doing this? He's tee-total these days. GIVE ME THE ERU-DAMN BOOZE!

[2nd_no_3rd_king]

Aren't you loud and obnoxious. You must be a descendant of mine.

[tar_calion]

*turns and regards you cooly*

Oh. You're the new one I take it.

*extends a hand* Ar-Pharazôn; Last King of Numenor, Son of Gimilkhâd, Captain on land and sea, tired, pissed-off, in need of a drink. Who might you be?