A Pub on the Mainland, Tuesday Evening

[uncertain_dume]

Okay, so Kanan had gone from 'starting to speculate whether there were adult women on the island at all' to 'having plans with three of them all within the span of the same week' in roughly no time at all. Which suited him well enough, really. It was a distraction, and a welcome one, considering the fact that he was starting to get comfortable around the island, and comfortable, with Kanan, was generally a sign that it was time to move on. The plans, of course, weren't making him any less comfortable, but they were certainly doing wonders to keep him from getting bored.

That said, there was only so much that could be done around the island, so tonight's plans had involved a jaunt to the mainland, to a pub there that seemed to have passable drinks and food that actually, if you squinted closely, somewhat resembled food. Not that Kanan considered himself a pro on the topic just yet. It was just that people seemed to be eating it and keeping it down, which was more than he could say for the fare at some cantinas he'd visited in his lifetime.

"So," he said, glancing at his company for the evening. "Can I start you off with anything?"

[OOC: For that one who is willing to overlook Kanan's goatee!]

Comments

[uncertain_dume]

And Kanan was more or less Coruscanti, but sure, he could be Irish if the mood struck. Whatever Irish was, anyway.

"Two reds, then," he agreed, flagging down the bartender again. "I'm up for finding out what 'feeling Irish' feels like, myself."

[fjordicswagger]

"Drunk, loud, and really into four-leaf clovers," Tamsin supplied.

Don't listen to her about anything, Kanan.

[uncertain_dume]

"Really into clovers," he echoed. "... So they, what, eat them or something?"

The bartender was raising an eyebrow at you, Kanan.

[fjordicswagger]

"No, they're supposed to be lucky," Tamsin said, rolling her eyes. "Trust them to cough up something as stupid as that."

'They' being humans, not the Irish, but she wasn't about to specify.

[uncertain_dume]

Kanan would have appreciated that, if he knew she had been thinking it.

"Lucky?" He gave a little scoffing sound and shook his head. "Sure. If it makes them happy. I'm of the opinion that the only luck anybody really gets is the type they make for themselves."

Luck had never done him any favors.

[fjordicswagger]

"Someone sounds bitter," Tamsin said.

She couldn't judge. She probably eclipsed most of the island in bitterness.

[uncertain_dume]

"Bitterness, pragmatism," Kanan replied, reaching for his beer as the bartender rolled his eyes and slid it his way. "The only difference between the two is how much time you spend dwelling on your reasons why. Are you saying you believe in lucky charms?"

He wouldn't judge. He was bitter, but he still put more faith in the Force than he would care to admit, sometimes.

And far, far less than he should.

[fjordicswagger]

"Of course not," Tamsin said dryly. "If lucky charms worked, we'd all be rich."

[uncertain_dume]

"And there are plenty of people out there who would settle for comfortable." Kanan shrugged, then took a swig of his drink. Huh. Not bad. He gave a little nod of approval. "Luck really doesn't have anything to do with it."

Or, at least, lucky charms certainly didn't.