With Happy Ending, yes?!
"Don't be such a stiff, Dmitri! We're going to have a blast, hahah." The childish metaphorical meaning behind blast made Dmitri visibly cringe, followed up by a seemingly amused smirk as he did his best to mull and doubt whether or not to go, what the consequences would be, ... In reality, Dmitri was doing exactly that, except that he wasn't mulling about that in particular, he was occupied thinking if there were any ways to weasle his way out of this unneeded hassle and lame night out with his supposed mates. Flynn & Mauro were nothing more than pebbles along the road, that you occasionally kick along with you, only to be cast aside as soon as you grow weary of them. Useful though, quite even, thanks to those two alcoholic skirtchasers he learned a lot about Etzos in a short period of time. But he was growing weary...Even so, it was not the opportune moment to cast them aside, it wouldn't be smart to throw a tantrum and pretend to be so infuriated that he never wanted to see or talk to them again; Simply over going to an inn moonlighting as a brothel.
So, he went.
Already the pair of dumb-dumbs had gulped down several bottles of ale down their throat, Dmitri could only imagine how their liver would scream if it could. He occasionally took a big gulp with some theatrics thrown in, whenever they were oh-so kind enough to share their bottle with him. Of course had paid his third of the price, for a few swigs. Mauro went on and on about this fine establishment who supposedly had a brandnew 'stock'. Dmitri wasn't exactly empathic but the way these men spoke of women, calling them pigs would be an insult to the animals. Flynn was convinced as soon as the rusted gears in his head started analyzing the drunken tonguetwisting speech and he had come to the conlusion he'd get laid. He probably didn't even hear with who, or what; Just the fact he'd get laid was enough, Mauro could be taking him to a compostheap and he'd still 'go nuts'.
As soon as they arrived at their destination, the Second-Story Inn, Dmitri played the part and told them to have a 'blast', after their sides were sewn back together from splitting, the boys were off to the second story of the inn and Dmitri had finally peace and quiet at the bar. Lost in thought, his hands folded together, tattoos intertwining, he glared around and eventually had to admit that if it hadn't been for the Lady, he would've probably end up much like Mauro & Flynn, and most other patrons at the Inn. Flynn was first to come back down, before Dmitri had even finished his first pint there. Slapping him hearthily on the shoulder and egging him on to get one for himself, until Dmitri shot him a look that shut him up after repeatedly telling him he was alright. But once Mauro was back down as well, a good 60 seconds after Flynn, shit hit the fan. Flynn was dealt with easily, but Mauro didn't know when to stop, especially when drunk. Sure, Dmitri could knock them both out, with or without the bottle near him, but he'd hate to cause a scene in public. So...He glanced around the inn, scanning 'the market'.
So, he went.
Already the pair of dumb-dumbs had gulped down several bottles of ale down their throat, Dmitri could only imagine how their liver would scream if it could. He occasionally took a big gulp with some theatrics thrown in, whenever they were oh-so kind enough to share their bottle with him. Of course had paid his third of the price, for a few swigs. Mauro went on and on about this fine establishment who supposedly had a brandnew 'stock'. Dmitri wasn't exactly empathic but the way these men spoke of women, calling them pigs would be an insult to the animals. Flynn was convinced as soon as the rusted gears in his head started analyzing the drunken tonguetwisting speech and he had come to the conlusion he'd get laid. He probably didn't even hear with who, or what; Just the fact he'd get laid was enough, Mauro could be taking him to a compostheap and he'd still 'go nuts'.
As soon as they arrived at their destination, the Second-Story Inn, Dmitri played the part and told them to have a 'blast', after their sides were sewn back together from splitting, the boys were off to the second story of the inn and Dmitri had finally peace and quiet at the bar. Lost in thought, his hands folded together, tattoos intertwining, he glared around and eventually had to admit that if it hadn't been for the Lady, he would've probably end up much like Mauro & Flynn, and most other patrons at the Inn. Flynn was first to come back down, before Dmitri had even finished his first pint there. Slapping him hearthily on the shoulder and egging him on to get one for himself, until Dmitri shot him a look that shut him up after repeatedly telling him he was alright. But once Mauro was back down as well, a good 60 seconds after Flynn, shit hit the fan. Flynn was dealt with easily, but Mauro didn't know when to stop, especially when drunk. Sure, Dmitri could knock them both out, with or without the bottle near him, but he'd hate to cause a scene in public. So...He glanced around the inn, scanning 'the market'.

