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

[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.