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 Almost everything that could be faded, scratched or dingy was, and the badly outdated St. Patrick's Day posters curled off the walls at their edges.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]

"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.

[dwarvenswagger]

It better, Anders. And it would end with the worst hangover.

"Why must we worship anything?"

The food was way better now that Thorin had a few drinks.

[not_every_mage]

"I don't know if we have to, but just about everyone does," Anders mused, words thickening with drink. "Humans have the maker, elves have their gods, dwarves at home have ancestors and the stone. Even the Qunari have some philosopher they're mad for. It's in- in- instinctual. For us anyway."

And then he claimed a chicken wing to top off that spurt of philosophy.

[doesnotkneel]

"You've got to keep the old man happy, right?"

Edward sipped his drink. It was very sugary, but at this point of the night he didn't much mind. "Otherwise it's all plagues and ill fortune."

[dwarvenswagger]

"Your makers are very strange," Thorin replied. He was rather enjoying everything that was deep fried. This was a thing he needed to bring back home.

[not_every_mage]

"They had to match their creations," Anders said flippantly. At least he didn't worship rocks, all right?

He tilted his head to the side, seeming to listen for something. Then: "... the music stopped."

[doesnotkneel]

Edward shrugged. "Bit less thumping in the background, aye," he said, sipping his drink again. "You know, I think I prefer the rum cheese."

[dwarvenswagger]

"And you're welcome to it," Thorin replied magnanimously. "Barkeep, we require more music!"

Yeah, that was the bartender giving them the bird. This was the best place ever.

[not_every_mage]

Anders stared at the bartender uncertainly. "I think he doesn't think it's his job,"he half-whispered. "I'll go."

And then he sld off his stool -- whoops! and toddled over to the jukebox to puzzle over its many lights and buttons.

[doesnotkneel]

Edward watched Anders go for the first few moments or so, and burst into giggles.

"Bet he'll tip over," he whispered to Thorin.

Though his volume control was starting to slip.

[dwarvenswagger]

Thorin had to take a deep breath to look like he was taking this bet very seriously. "How much?"

[doesnotkneel]

Edward leaned over conspiratorially. "I could volunteer an amount of coin," he said, "But that seems like it sits well outside the spirit of this wager."