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| Tweet Topic Started: Dec 28 2010, 12:41 PM (363 Views) | |
| Fission | Dec 28 2010, 12:41 PM Post #1 |
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Uguu desu
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The ocelot sighed, resting his head against the knuckles of his left hand. He'd been left. Not for dead, not from his ride, but by his boyfriend. Another short-lived relationship, of course, another little mark to make him feel even more useless than he already felt. Why was he even here? He wasn't old enough to drink! Or was he? He was 18, after all! But what to drink? He'd never had anything to drink, none at those parties he could have very well gotten stoned and drunk out of his mind at. He had no preferences! "Hey!" he said in what was probably no more than a harsh whisper (as if everyone was judging, as if every single drunkard in that dim-lit scumhole of a pub was watching him and judging him and talking about him among themselves, look at the hippy with the long hair, look at that fag, what a disgrace). The barkeep looked at him with a skeptical look before rolling his eyes and walking over to the down cat. "Hey buddy, whaddya want," he said in a ridiculous accent. Brooklyn? Sure. Whatever. Does it matter? "Anything," he started off, then paused as if in thought. It was thought, but this wasn't deep consideration. It was regret, guilt, and apprehension. "Anything you'd suggest for someone who... who hasn't had a drink? Ever?" His voice was young and a bit choked back, probably from years of apprehension and indecision, questioning his every move. "Yeah. Watah," the barkeep said, snickering. The aproned gray hare filled a glass with water from the sink behind him and slid it in front of Rick. "Here. Don't drink too much, kid, the bar closes in a few hours." The ocelot sighed, his ears laying back and his tail drooping down around the bar stool. He sipped gingerly at the glass of water, cringing a bit from the sour taste the overused and overboozed glass gave it. "Blegh," he sputtered quietly before laying his head down on the counter. |
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2:42 PM Jul 11
