St. Patties Barhopping

[Malcolm Green]

"Call me Green," the Earthbones answered. He looked critically at his empty glass, as if he did not understand how it had become empty. "You are a new face. Welcome. You here to party as well?" Given it was a social occasion, Green tried to be pleasant. He smiled at the Beast kith - meaning his mouth stretched into another chasm-like grimace.

From the way the mountain abruptly turned his attention on one of the bar staff, his idea of 'party' simply ran into the consumption of alcohol and little else. Still, he appear to be a more... happy... mountain when a new, foaming, glass was passed into his great hands.

Still... beaming(?) Green saluted the little gathering with his beer before downing it, almost in one long gulp. At least the horrible approximation of a smile was gone.

[Heath Moore]

The Minstrel nods, half-listening now that he's tossing back the last of his beer from his current glass. This called for shots. "In the spirit of the season, I hereby request an Irish car bomb be placed before me. It's Irish, so you know it's good," declares the Minstrel. Once the barkeep had come around they filled the order, handing Heath a half-glass of Guinness stout and a shot of Irish whiskey mixed with Irish Cream. Though the drink was referred to as Irish, it was an American invention, and would probably offend any actual Irish due to the nature of its name. But such distinctions were lost on Heath at the moment.

"The trick is," says Heath to Morgan and Green since he still stood beside them, "to drink it all in one go before it curdles, you see? Right. Here we go!" Heath drops the shot glass into the stout with a small splash and he lifts the glass to his lips, drinking it quickly. It goes down smooth and Heath manages to finish a majority of the glass. "Woo!" he cheers after taking a breath.

[Malcolm Green]

"Um. I'll have what he's having..." Green gestures to Heath.

[Heath Moore]

I think it's safe to say we're wrapping up here?

Full of drinks, and happy about it, Heath gives everyone an uncomfortable hug, whether he spoke with them or not, the smell of the beer and whiskey on his breath. He then proceeds to ask the barkeep to call him a taxi and then clarifies that he is in fact not a taxi, but that if he could phone a taxi for him that would be swell.