Your point has been made and graciously accepted, unless you'd like to speak of it further. The rest of our little quest won't be able to be attended to until after you return from Mair, and, well ... it's been a while since we had a drink together.
Ah—if you don't think you can take it, I can find something of lesser alcohol content not brewed within the wood that lined the ships of my forefathers.
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We used to often.
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I don't know that I'm up for drinking your weird Asgardian crap.
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I—Jason. What?
Sharing is caring? [ the inflection makes it sound like a question. ] Or did you just turn mead into a euphemism?
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An arrogant, mocking lilt accompanies these next words:]
C'mon, I recall you making yourself perfectly clear on the matter. I wouldn't want you to waste your resources on little ol' me.
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The euphemism or the mead?
[ why does he suddenly feel like he's supposed to feel like he cheated on Jason? ]
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But I don't want to accept your platitudes. I said that already.
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Together.
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As you will—my mead and I will head elsewhere.
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[And then he disconnects.]
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