Claddagh Pub, Baltimore, Thursday Evening

[chosehumanity]

After the day he'd had, Mitchell deserved a pint. More than a pint. Something a bit more live, maybe.

Something to chase away then why are we even trying? from his mind, or at least follow its lead down into the murky deep for a spell. He didn't care much. The night was young, there were people, it smelled of blood and he just--

He lit a cigarette by the entrance to the pub, waiting.

Fuck it all for a lark. Maybe George was right. Maybe there wasn't a point, and he'd just been fooling himself all along.

[[ for the big guy, and nfb due to distance ]]

Comments

[chosehumanity]

"No brunettes." He was heading for a lone table now - one with a good view of the rest of the bar. "Redheads, maybe. Blondes."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

If Max thought anything of Mitchell's table selection, he gave no sign. He simply hummed thoughtfully. "Both good choices," he decided. "But drinks first. There's tradition to be respected, after all."

[chosehumanity]

"Makes it easier to chat one up," Mitchell agreed, waving at a waiter. "Two pints of lager."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"And it tastes good," Max added, eyes sweeping the room.

"What about her?" he asked, nodding slightly at a woman with a cascade of red curls falling down her back. She looked pretty good in those jeans she was wearing, after all.

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell gave her the expert's one-over. "Looks like a junkie," was his final verdict.

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"Yeah?" Max asked, frowning thoughtfully. "What gives her away?"

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell snorted. "You can practically smell the desperation," he said, "And look at her arms."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"Ah. The desperation thing could be any number of things, but the arms... I'd missed that." Mitchell had a good eye.

"I take it that junkies aren't your type?"

[chosehumanity]

"Not for a very long time," Mitchell said, glancing up at the waiter as he deposited their drinks on the table. "But who knows how desperate I'll be by the end of the night..."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"Hey, with me here to back you up, you've got your pick of the place." Max grabbed his beer and took a pull.

[chosehumanity]

There was a young blonde out with her friends somewhere near the back - she'd thrown a look towards Mitchell when he entered, and she was still sneaking looks between dart games.

Mitchell hadn't noticed her yet. He hunched forward over his beer. "What do you think of... that tarted-up blonde at the front?"

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"I'm telling you, man," Max grinned, "you don't have to settle. You're a good looking guy, got that air of mystery about you, you know?"

The grin became a smirk. "In fact, I bet if you take your time and finish your beer you'll have at least a couple of good options checking you out already."

Someone may have been in better practice for this sort of thing.

[chosehumanity]

"Girls do like the accent."

He chugged down some of his beer.

"You're up next."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Max snorted with a roll of his eyes. "Though, yeah, you should totally use the accent to your advantage. Let me do the talking at first, then when someone seems a bit interested you can bust it out to sink the hook."

[chosehumanity]

The blonde figeted and shot Mitchell another searching look. Come on, look her way already!

"Being a proper wingman, are we?" Mitchell asked. "I'm terrified."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"Hey, you've never let me do it before," Max smirked, watching the blonde out of the corner of his eye. "So you don't know just how good I am."

[chosehumanity]

"Fine," Mitchell said, throwing his hands up. "Because I'm out of practice."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"Long dry spell?" Max asked a bit sympathetically.

[chosehumanity]

"Very dry," Mitchell muttered. "Out of choice, don't get any ideas."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"But now it's time to get back into the game." Max took another pull on his beer, suppressing a smirk as the blonde girl shot another look at Mitchell, this time biting her lip just a bit.

[chosehumanity]

"Exactly."

Mitchell stared at his own glass of beer for a second or two longer, then swallowed another mouthful.

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

"Hey, I know I told you to play up the dark and mysterious thing, but don't take it too far, right?"

[chosehumanity]

Mitchell scowled back at him. "I know how to balance it out," he argued, "I've been at this longer than you have, grasshopper."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

Max rolled his eyes. "You're not that much older than me," he countered. "And I started young."

[chosehumanity]

"Who's to say I didn't?" Mitchell countered.

It was a better counter than 'I'm older than you'.

The blonde finally found the courage to pull away from her crowd to wobble sort of in his general direction.

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

A sudden grin spread across Max's face. "Game time," he warned Mitchell.

[chosehumanity]

"What--?"

"Uh, hi," the blonde said, waving at him. Maybe a little too enthusiastically. "I was just over there playing darts, and I-- figured I'd say hi." Beat. "Oh god, I sound like a complete crazy person."

Mitchell... blinked. "No," he hazarded, "It's fine. Hi."

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

Max suppressed a sigh by drinking more beer.

That was a terrible opening line, Mitchell.

He flashed the girl a grin. "Want to join us?" he asked, trying to help Mitchell recover.

[chosehumanity]

"Um..." The girl bit her lip again. "Sure!" She beamed.

Mostly at Mitchell. And sank down.

"Sorry about that," he offered, "I'm not that used to pretty girls talking to me anymore."

The accent might be thickening, yes.

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

Oooh, well played, Mitchell.

Max sat back in his chair and signaled for a waiter to bring another round for the three of them.

He didn't want to interrupt Mitchell's flow, but he did take some time to check the girl out properly.

[chosehumanity]

"It's okay," she said, taking some of her own hair and wrapping it around her finger. "I'm Becka, by the way," she said, and held up one dorky hand in a wave.

Mitchell grinned back. "Mitchell," he offered. "So what do you do, Becka? Beyond talk to poor put-upon Irishmen in bars."

He was going to let Max do his thing.

[furious-maximus.livejournal.com]

Mitchell was actually pretty good at this. Max was half-surprised by the fact.

"Rescuing you from my dull company by the looks of it," he suggested with a half-smile.