to you i give the grain, the light and the sky
@originalbirdboy, (x)
"hey, you," the guy calls over to him past the din of electronica music blaring over tinny speakers across the bar. all warren can make out is bright green eyes and dark curly hair, and that he's wearing a blue plaid shirt and drinking something that looks fruity. "we need one more for trivia, you want in?" "two dollars," his friend, a blond with a grin that suggests he's been drinking steadily for the past few hours, holds up the corresponding number of fingers. "uh huh. let's hope he counts for two people," the third guy, who looks like he walked off the pages of an army recruitment poster with a buzzed crew cut, rolls his eyes. "shomron's nearly down for the count." "hey, hey-hey, i have a thought-" shomron jabs a finger into rambo's chest. "fuck off." "oh nice one. fuckin' mark twain over here." "ignoring my idiot friends," the first guy adds to warren, lips twitching. "as you can see we're in need." he's got a fairly thick accent, but seems to speak english pretty much colloquially. "our combined knowledgebase is pretty much what it looks like." namely: football, guns, cars, and-in the case of the tourist, appletinis.