Pog Mahone's Irish Pub, Baltimore, Saturday Afternoon

[not_every_mage]

This was still the tackiest Irish-themed pub in America, just as it had been for Anders' and Edward's first visit the fall before. Almost everything that could be faded, scratched or dingy was, and the badly outdated St. Patrick's Day posters curled off the walls at their edges. But the beers were cheap, the bartenders were lax about carding, and Anders knew from past experience that the nachos were thick with melted cheese and gloppy guacamole.

It was, in other words, the perfect place to introduce Thorin to earth culture.

"They added a new type of nachos!" Anders exclaimed with some delight, as he squinted at the menu. "Irish. With ... potato slices, cheese and bacon. We have to try those, don't we?"

[OOC: For those named. NFB due to distance.]

Comments

[not_every_mage]

"Probably, since I wouldn't marry somebody who wasn't desirable," Anders said, squinting at him. "How do your people marry? For us there's a whole religious ritual."

[dwarvenswagger]

"You find someone and hope that they might accept you," Thorin replied with a shrug. "Some never wed, dedicating themselves to their crafts. And unlike men, we do not stray from the one we love. Even should we be rejected."

Which was just awkward.

[not_every_mage]

"So wait, if you go up to someone and tell them you love them, and they don't agree, you're just supposed to ...moon over them forever?" Anders asked, eyebrows dancing up. "What if your love, loves you back, but then they die young?"

[dwarvenswagger]

Tolkien.

"You remain widowed." Them's the breaks. "Better than the elves. They'll apparently die of a broken heart."

How lame was that?

"This is why we do not even consider such things until we're in our 90's."

[not_every_mage]

"Your ... nineties." Anders blinked at him slowly. "So can I ask you something ridiculously personal, or would you break that tankard over my head if I do?"

[dwarvenswagger]

Thorin carefully put his nearly empty glass of rum down. "I will try to restrain myself."

[not_every_mage]

Anders took a long swig of his ... third or so, he thought, beer. "Right, so if you're supposed to have one true love, and you don't start looking for that love until you're 90, does that mean you have to go most of a century without sleeping with anyone?" he asked. "Don't your bits fall off from disuse?"

He got classy when he was tipsy. Though to be fair, he'd said worse stone sober.

[dwarvenswagger]

Thorin had to stare at him for a bit to figure out that this was him asking about sex. "No?"

What.

"Does that happen with men? I knew you were fragile compared to us, but..."

WOW.

[not_every_mage]

"I don't know," Anders said. "I don't think any of us ever manage celibacy that long. Well, chantry brethren do, but that lot never knew what to do with their parts to start with. Probably wouldn't miss them if they fell right off."

[doesnotkneel]

Edward let out a little merry laugh. "Never stopped the Catholics any," he commented. "If you get my meaning."

He finished his rum.

[dwarvenswagger]

"Perhaps the urges of men are different?"

What the heck of a Catholic anyway? It sounded disappointing.

[not_every_mage]

"Maybe," Anders said, and turned to Edward to ask a question that was on his mind, too. "Which ones are the Catholics, agaia?"

[doesnotkneel]

"The Papists," Edward said, not that that meant much. "They are Christians who follow the directives of Rome. Their priests aren't allowed to marry."

[dwarvenswagger]

"That sounds unfortunate."

Thank you, Thorin.

[not_every_mage]

"Not uncommon in human faiths, though," Anders shrugged. "Chantry priests can't wed either. They're all considered married to the Maker or his Bride. Apparently they like having a harem."

[doesnotkneel]

Edward snorted. "No such thing with the Church of England, at least," he said. "'s all a bit literal, ain't it?"

[dwarvenswagger]

Thorin got distracted from that debate as more food arrived. Along with some sort of strange, green drink.

Margaritas. Aw yeah.

"Why do you do such things? I've wondered since my arrival."

[not_every_mage]

"Be more specific," Anders asked, after a long slurp on his margarita. "Religion, sex, or drinking things this color?"

[doesnotkneel]

"All three at the same time, as is often the case?" Edward joked.

[dwarvenswagger]

"Your choice of drinks is inexplicable." Sorry not sorry, Anders. "And your shorter lives could explain the obsession with sex."

Like rabbits!

"But religion."

[not_every_mage]

Anders considered arguing he wasn't obsessed, but suspected they both knew that was a lie.

"What about it?" Anders asked. "We didn't get here out of nowhere. May as well be grateful to the thing that put us here."

He didn't have a grasp of evolutionary theory, no. He sucked down more margarita and leaned forward with some intensity.

"Problem's just all the blighted hypocrites that think the Maker wants whatever horrible petty thing they want."

[doesnotkneel]

"God, the Maker, whichever you want to call Him," Edward said, pushing his now-empty glass aside and reaching for the full one with the oddly-colored drink. "He exists, don't He? What's so inexplicable about that?"

[dwarvenswagger]

"We know our creator exists," Thorin replied, rolling his eyes. "He is our father and teacher, not the subject of worship. You respect and honor your father, not--"

He waved his hand vaguely, taking a sip of the margarita.

"...it's sour."

[not_every_mage]

"It tastes sweeter when the ice melts some," Anders told him. "And -- dunno. Maybe we just like making things fancier."

[doesnotkneel]

"What would you worship, other than the one who made everything?" Edward wondered.

He was fairly relaxed on the subject. Wasn't like he was especially devout or anything. But this far into the drink made him all philosophical, for his standards.