[Mordecai is at the bar more often than not these days, finding it preferable to drinking alone in his room, because really, that's just kind of sad. While he's not the biggest socialite there ever was, he likes to think he's not so pathetic that he'd hide from the world like that. He's still busy, of course - he can drink and surf the comms archives at the same time, and there's still a lot to read or watch that he hasn't gotten to yet in his search for as much information as he can find about the ship and its sinister emoticon and that damned list.
He brings his bloodwing along these days, too. Evidently the thing is going to have to be socialized to people, rather than trained to kill them, and while that's disappointing, he'd rather have the bird than be left with the empty gaping hole in his life that he'd lived with after Jack killed his girl.
And thoughts like those were always another good reason to drink.]
'Ey bartender, what's that one over there? [He points to a bottle he hasn't tried yet, not recognizing the label.] You know if it's any good?
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He brings his bloodwing along these days, too. Evidently the thing is going to have to be socialized to people, rather than trained to kill them, and while that's disappointing, he'd rather have the bird than be left with the empty gaping hole in his life that he'd lived with after Jack killed his girl.
And thoughts like those were always another good reason to drink.]
'Ey bartender, what's that one over there? [He points to a bottle he hasn't tried yet, not recognizing the label.] You know if it's any good?