District 1
Heterosexual
20 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Stripper
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Jun 4, 2018 20:46:26 GMT -7
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Post by Leliana Hemwick on Jan 17, 2017 13:33:35 GMT -7
Leliana had a shit day. Last night her brother had been murdered, today she had terrible customers who didn't give her good tips, and she couldn't even take a breath to mourn the man who raised her the past three years. It didn't matter anyways, she thought. She was the last Hemwick standing. A proud stripper who could spout out a snarky comment or two every once in a blue moon. So she did what every last-of-the-line, bad-decision-maker did: bought a lot of liquor. And by a lot, she meant A LOT. It was the cheap stuff too, as she still had to pay the bills somehow. But the point of it wasn't drinking alone; it was going to a bar and drinking with others.
Yeah, bringing her own alcohol was a dick move, but she didn't have a choice. It would be depressing to sit at home and drink alone. At the store, she stuffed as many bottles of flavored vodka in her purse as she could and paid for them. The man at the counter looked at her in the strangest way, but she rolled her eyes at him and left.
The bar wasn't far from her home or her work. The strip club was technically in competition with the bar, but the strip club had closed and the bar was the only place open this late at night with the exception of the liquor store, of course. The bar was a quiet place this time of night, but if she could just have the company of others while smashed, she would be okay with that.
Lily entered the quiet bar. There was a single bartender and about three customers. She trudged herself to the bar and put her bag on the table. The bottles clanged together. "Hey waiter, can I have a glass of water? And another empty glass too. Not a shot glass, but one of those bigger ones, you know?" She said, using her hands to measure what kind of cup she wanted. She would wait until her glass was there to start drinking her cheap alcohol.
WORD COUNT: 346
TAG: Vican Vesuvius
NOTES: Sorry it's so short!
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District 1
Living for the rejection.
Heterosexual
24 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Bartender
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 15:48:32 GMT -7
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Post by Vican Vesuvius on Jan 17, 2017 17:27:53 GMT -7
Vican was stuck at work, as always. His life had been painfully slow. Initially, he thought that Anais would change everything. And in some ways, she did. In his nightmares, he still saw the word painted in his own blood across the counter of the bar: REBEL. Beyond that, Vican also saw Anais dip to her lowest. He broke into her home to save her, then ended up sitting in a hospital ward for hours waiting on her. Vican never cared for anyone except his mother as intensely as he had in that moment. Ultimately, though, Anais had her own life. She was married, and married to a Victor, at that. He slipped back into the quiet routine he established for himself: wake up, eat breakfast, get ready, go to work, come home, go to bed, wake up… Vican was nearing the tail end of his shift. It was painfully late and thankfully, the good people of District 1 - with the exception of a small handful - seemed to take note of this. Two young men sat together at the front of the bar, working on finishing their last pint. They would leave soon, but Vican wasn’t as sure about the older man perched on a stool in the counter. He took his spot there many hours earlier and kept ordering. If Vican particularly cared, he might have asked the man about what was bothering him. The problem with that, though, was that he actually didn’t really care at all, and also that he heard more than his share of unwarranted sob stories each day. Working as a bartender, he gained a very unique and very annoying perspective on people. When drunk, people tended to lose their inhibitions and let lose any emotions they had, becoming alarmingly cheerful, upset, weepy, horny, thoughtful, or sometimes a blend of all five. Vican groaned from the back as he heard the door swing open. It was late as hell, and he wasn’t particularly interested in dealing with another customer. He got shit tips all evening, so it wasn’t like he would make much money with them anyway. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to lose his bar, so he stepped out from the back and to the main counter. There waiting was a petite brunette. The look on her pretty face spelled out unvocalized problems. Great. Before he could offer any service, she beat him to it. Vican almost corrected her use of “waiter” but thought better of it. He didn’t feel like arguing, which was also why he didn’t initially dispute her request for an empty glass. Wordlessly, he turned and filled a glass with cool water, then sat it on the counter in front of her. “One water,” Vican said. “If you’re sneaking in your own - which I’m sure you are, judging from the sounds your bag is making - I would recommend you extending to me the courtesy of reusing your water glass, seeing as I don’t feel like washing an extra glass that’s not making me money. Especially since I’m extending to you the courtesy of not currently giving a shit about what you smuggled in.” Typically, he managed some form of restraint, but something about her whole demeanor got under his skin and managed to piss him off before she even spoke. And then, of course, she did the shittiest thing ever and ordered a water in a bar. It was almost as if she was trying to piss him off, he thought with a light huff. Words: 615 Tags: Leliana HemwickNotes: It’s fine! I’m super excited to get this thread started!! |
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District 1
Heterosexual
20 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Stripper
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Jun 4, 2018 20:46:26 GMT -7
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Post by Leliana Hemwick on Jan 17, 2017 20:25:01 GMT -7
Leliana saw him fill up the water and give it to her. He spoke in a tone that was rude. Was he really going to be like that? Because if he was, she wasn't going to have it. She may have to take comments like that at the club, but here? There was no way. This was his job, and she assumed that he wasn't a fan of his job if he couldn't wash one more bloody dish. Hell, she would wash it if he wanted. She got out her alcohol, looking straight at the bartender with an eyebrow raised as she got the bottles out. She already decided she wouldn't tip him, though it wasn't like she could afford one anyways.
She drank out of the first bottle. The sweet taste of nail polish removal and cheap chocolate flavoring. Lily set the bottle back down loudly. She didn't take her eyes off the man to make a point. "You think you're hilarious, don't you?" she said. The words that rolled off her tongue were dry, but she wasn't having any of his crap tonight. He was rude to her, and she would be damn well rude back. She took another gulp of the alcohol. It burned her throat, but her plan was to get blackout drunk before the bar closed. She had a lot more of the bottle to drink before she did that.
"Isn't that your job? Some people don't like they're job, I get it, but refusing to do so? Nice. A plus. Fantastic service," She clapped at him and rolled her eyes. She picked the worst bar to be at tonight, but she was already here and she wasn't leaving. She drank more, and she drank fast. Time was of the essence, she knew. Leliana also knew that she would probably be making bad decisions tonight, but what they were, she didn't know yet. Maybe she would go home with someone, or maybe she would pass out on the street. Either way, she didn't give a damn what happened to her tonight.
The woman looked at the other men in the bar. An elderly man was at the end of the bar who didn't let out a peep. She felt bad for the old guy--being alone at that age seemed terrible. There were two other young men that were closer, and they were both looking and whispering. She couldn't make out the words they said, but she could only assume what they were talking about. Her glaring eyes shot over to them. She recognized them from being customers at the club but couldn't remember either their names. Shit, she thought, but looked back in front of her. Those two men causing her trouble was the last thing she needed. If they said anything, she might start a bar fight. The bartender already pissed her off, and with her brother being dead, she couldn't stand for one more ignorant person to come up to her and say something. Hell, if she got drunk enough, she'd go home with one of them. So her decisions with the two men were either have sex with them or beat them to shit.
It was a shame that the bartender was a complete douche. He was actually handsome for a man who worked in a bar. Usually they were just washed up older men who wanted to get discounts on the alcohol. One time she even saw an old victor working as a bartender and thought it was hilarious. And for some reason, he looked familiar too. His gaze was cold, and she felt like she'd seen it before. Maybe even a tough guy like him went to strip clubs to loosen up. The thought of that was hilarious. She laughed to herself, and took another gulp of her vodka.
WORD COUNT: 643
TAG: Vican Vesuvius
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District 1
Living for the rejection.
Heterosexual
24 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Bartender
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 15:48:32 GMT -7
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Post by Vican Vesuvius on Jan 18, 2017 19:04:04 GMT -7
Vican merely watched as she pulled the alcohol from her purse. To her merit, she didn’t attempt to be discreet about it. It infuriated him to watch giggly girls and smirking men attempt to slip bottles from their pockets without catching his eye. As soon as they were open, Vican could smell the stench of the cheap alcohol. After bartending for so long, he became accustomed to nicer liquors and spirits. Sometimes, he forgot about just how terrible the bad liquor could be. He met her challenge easily. The woman was more than a little pissed - Vican got under her skin, too. Good. “Occasionally,” he agreed with a grin because he was entirely unable to feign being stoic. She took another deep drink from her bottle, telling Vican all he needed to know: she was drinking to get drunk, and, judging by the motor oil she was drinking, she was trying to forget some problem. Vican saw the type more than enough to place her easily. He turned to the bar behind him and began to clean up. With only four in the bar, he didn’t expect to make any more sales, and he didn’t feel like staying long after to clean up the bar. The night before, he was ripped from sleep by a horrible nightmare - one about Anais, of course, but, then again, what nightmare hadn’t been about her since he found her nearly dead? - and really was far too tired to stay out much later. Though he had moved on already, it was apparent she hadn’t from the comment she shot at him. Vican added to the mental profile he built for her. Now, she just wasn’t an upset girl trying to drink away her problems, but she was an angry girl, too. “Please,” he laughed, unable to stop himself, “As the owner of this fine establishment, it is my job to make business run as efficiently as possible. Tonight, that happens to include not catering to loiterers.” Vican had been a verbal punching bag in the past. At the bar, he was quite accustomed to seeing the worst in people. They entered sad, lonely, angry, and frustrated: it was always whole host of pleasantries with that crowd. At first, Vican was not great at handling those customers. After years of it, though, he began to find it amusing, which certainly made it more bearable. One thing he could never stand, though, were guys that forced their attention on women. Even though the new customer at the bar was somewhat annoying, he still watched closely as the two men began to approach him. Vican immediately noted their attention on her as soon as she sat down earlier. She was indisputably beautiful, and that was always enough to warrant explicit comments from the crude male customers. Vican sometimes managed to tolerate comments if they didn’t seem to be affecting their target. The second someone moved to act on one, though, Vican became involved. They looked devious, and Vican instantly registered a bad feeling when they began to move. As soon as he saw a glimpse of two white pills slipping into a glass of beer. The taller of the two men sat it on the counter beside the woman. Vican’s stomach twisted. He reach over the bar, lifting the glass up before the woman had a chance to touch it or the man a chance to finish his stupid line. “Hey, what the hell, man?” the shorter one asked. “Leave. Both of you.” Vican said, stepping out from behind the bar. Though his days in the Academy were long since behind him, Vican managed to maintain himself, He certainly didn’t stop his biceps from flexing as he crossed them in front of his chest. “You’re not going to drug someone, and you’re sure as hell not going to do it in my bar. Get out.” The larger man raised two hands. “Now… I don’t wan’ any trouble,” he slurred. “Great,” Vican deadpanned. He took a step closer. “If I wanted trouble, I would have called the Peacekeepers on you by now.” They simply stared. Vican took a step closer and lifted the large man by the collar of his shirt. “I won’t ask you again,” he said, his voice deep and threatening. Vican split up more than a few bar fights in his time there. He was the largest man there, and, either way, he wasn’t the drunk one. They had no chance against him. “I’m not above removing you myself.” Vican dropped the man who immediately started for the door, rubbing at his neck. Vican watched as they stepped out the door, shaking their heads as they went. He waited until he was sure they were gone before doubling back to the bar. Without saying a word, he lifted the drugged beer from behind the counter and turned to pour it down the sink. Words: 856 Tags: Leliana Hemwick |
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District 1
Heterosexual
20 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Stripper
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Jun 4, 2018 20:46:26 GMT -7
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Post by Leliana Hemwick on Jan 18, 2017 20:19:20 GMT -7
Leliana listened to the man, but instead of replying, she took another drink of her alcohol. She didn't need another glass anyways. She just ordered a water for the sake of ordering something. Drinking from the bottle was easier, though she wouldn't be so sure the more drunk she got. She tucked her hair behind her ear, seeing the two men approach her with a drink they ordered. She raised an eyebrow in suspicion. This wasn't her first rodeo, and with the look on their faces, she knew that beer wouldn't be a normal beer. But before she could take it and dump it on them, she saw the bartender take the beer from them. As much of a jerk as he was, he did look out for his customers, and she could respect that.
There was one time where she had fallen for it. She was 17 and at one of those lavish parties she enjoyed so much. Stupidly, as she hadn't been in the business that long, she took a drink from a stranger. Before anything could happen though, a man helped her out and took her back home. She never knew who the man was, and he never left a note or saw her again. She was thankful for that one instance. It helped her be more cautious. She didn't know the two men at the bar, and she wouldn't take any chances drinking that hell of a drink.
She watched the scene in front of her as she kept drinking. It was her mission to get as drunk as she could without killing herself. Lily saw that the men tried to argue with the bartender, but she knew that was a mistake. It was different that she was a woman and bickered with him, and the men didn't understand that. They tried to drug the girl. The bartender was a tall and muscular guy, and they were slim. Leliana could see the bartender as a threat. She knew that she didn't want to get on his really bad side, though she was probably getting there.
The bartender was a force in his bar, and she could definitely see it. When once man exclaimed that he didn't want any trouble, she gave out a cocky laugh. Yeah, sure he wasn't. Now that he was about to get the crap beat out of him. In a sudden movement, the bartender grabbed the man by the collar and told him to leave. She took another gulp of her drink. She was starting to get tipsy, but even she could tell that the two guys had no chance against the bartender. They scurried off and the man went behind his bar once again.
She sighed. The only two customers left was her and the elderly man. She took another drink from her bottle. Leliana checked her pockets, but she realized she spent her money on booze. "I could've handled them," she said at first. "But thanks, I appreciate it." She set down her bottle for a minute, watching him pour the beer down the sink. She bit her lip. Now she felt bad for giving him a hard time. Ugh, she hated feeling bad and apologizing, but she had already done both.
"Hey look, I don't have any money to tip you or anything. But when your shift ends, do you want to come back to my place?" She was thankful for what he had done, and she wanted to repay him. It wasn't the best thing to offer and it made her look like a slut. There was only one other man around, so Lily figured she would ask. He had done something good for her, and if he accepted, she would do something good for him.
WORD COUNT: 632
TAG: Vican Vesuvius
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District 1
Living for the rejection.
Heterosexual
24 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Bartender
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 15:48:32 GMT -7
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Post by Vican Vesuvius on Jan 19, 2017 19:21:23 GMT -7
Vican glanced up when the woman began to speak. At first, he felt a quick surge of anger. Though he hadn’t forced the men out for her gratitude, and he certainly hadn’t expected any from her anyway, it was frustrating that she was being so cocky about it. “When customers handle things in a bar, it always gets messy,” he responded dryly. He heard one to many brazenly shouted declarations of, “we need to take this outside!” She reminded him of that type of customer for a single moment. He sighed under his breath. Either way, the situation was handled. The asshole rapist-type were gone, the woman wasn’t drugged, and he was down half the customers, leaving only two people to wait on. Her thanks came shortly after and despite everything, they seemed sincere. “Yeah,” he acknowledged briefly. “So are you okay now?” Vican didn’t see the drugged glass touch her lips, so he figured that she was safe but wasn’t entirely sure. He wanted to be absolutely certain that she was okay before he diverted the full force of his attention elsewhere. Vican turned and continued to tidy the back counter. When he heard her speak again, he nearly dropped the glass he was holding. On a handful of rare nights, he took home a late night customer. However, he had never gotten an offer like that which he received from the woman. Vican sat the glass down and turned to face her. His face contorted, taking on a worried and disturbed expression. His brow furrowed. “You don’t owe me anything,” Vican said, shaking his head at her. When he looked her dead in the eyes, he placed the strange lingering sense of familiarity he felt since she walked in. He remembered glancing into those eyes as their owner danced nude up on the stage at Diamond’s Mine. When he first went on his own, a single job wasn’t enough to keep him busy and pay rent, so naturally he took on another, bartending for a local strip club. It was a short gig because he quickly got tired of the crowd. In his time there, though, Vican did see his fair share of strippers. Suddenly, the woman perched on her barstool began to make sense. It wasn’t that he judged her. Actually, Vican didn’t judge her at all. He knew just as well as anyone what it meant to be poor, to need money. Though now his workaholic tendencies had paid off and he owned a business and his house, money wasn’t always so available, especially when he was just starting out on his own. At the time, he found his first connection in bartending. Vican was lucky and he realized that not everyone had the same opportunities. Had his first lifeline came in the form of stripping, he was so poor and in need of a job that he probably would have accepted it. So no, his anger at the situation wasn’t at her, but just at the concept that she felt she had to repay him in that way. Quiet anger boiled behind his dark eyes. Vican leaned against the inside counter and averted his eyes for a moment. “Thanks for the offer, though,” he said darkly. Words: 570 Tags: Leliana Hemwick |
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District 1
Heterosexual
20 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Stripper
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Jun 4, 2018 20:46:26 GMT -7
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Post by Leliana Hemwick on Jan 19, 2017 19:49:37 GMT -7
Leliana listened to him speak, intrigued at what he was saying. He was an interesting man, that was for sure. He had said that she didn't own him anything. Which, to her, was definitely not true. If he wasn't there and it was some wimpy bartender, she couldn't gotten into a lot of trouble with those guys. She could've taken a sip, or refused the drink and get forced on anyways. She owed him something, at least. She figured she would come back tomorrow to tip him for what he had done--even if it was only a couple dollars.
When the man spoke to her, she could tell something was bothering him. Was it the way she said it? Or that he was gay? She didn't know, but he hadn't acted like that before she offered him something she was actually good at. It was strange, as most men in the district would take that offer in a heartbeat. She had gone home with bartenders before when she couldn't pay her bill, only to leave before the sun rose. She was quite good at barhopping and avoiding people she wasn't fond of. The strip club was different and she couldn't avoid bad customers, but when she was Leliana and not Columbia, she could go from place to place without being noticed by customers or men she had slept with.
She hid the escort part of her life very well, but it was well known that Leliana took men home every so often. Whether it was her place or theirs, she enjoyed her party lifestyle. She hadn't done drugs, and she knew that she never would with her brother now dead. She was thinking of trying to find contacts of the people who shot him, and if she could, possibly avenge him. She knew that wouldn't be for a while though, as things had to calm down for the Hemwick girl.
The bottle touched her lips once again as she raised an eyebrow at the man. "Yeah, sure, I don't owe you anything. Whatever," she said nonchalantly. "But you didn't deny it. Trust me, if I didn't mean it, I wouldn't have asked," she said with a wink. She was starting to turn into a whore, and she really didn't care. She stopped caring what people thought about her a long time ago. He might be a jerk, but he was a handsome jerk who saved her from hell. She couldn't just say "goodbye" and be on her way. And better yet, she liked a challenge.
Leliana liked having the bar basically to herself. It was quiet, whereas most places would be booming with noise if it was only a few hours earlier. She wondered if this place got busy often. She wouldn't be surprised, it was definitely one of the nicer bars in District 1. She took to looking at the bar, her eyes wondering at the lights and the tables. Even if the bartender hated her, she might spend a lot of her time here, especially when it was after her shift. Hell, maybe she would actually buy a drink one day in this place.
She then turned sideways to face the old man at the end of the bar. "Heyyy old man!" She said, raising her voice a little louder to get his attention. "Would...you f**k him...if you were me?" She said, laughing a little. She took another drink of her alcohol. Yep, she was definitely starting to feel the effects.
WORD COUNT: 591
TAG: Vican Vesuvius |
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District 1
Living for the rejection.
Heterosexual
24 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Bartender
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 15:48:32 GMT -7
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Post by Vican Vesuvius on Jan 19, 2017 20:14:42 GMT -7
If Vican raised his eyebrow any further, he was positive that it would somehow merge with his hairline. The woman - Columbia, if he remembered her club name correctly - was already verging on wasted. He laughed incredulously for a moment. “You’re drunk right now, so this is me denying it,” Vican said, his words serious despite the light expression on his face. She was unbelievable. As a principle, he tried to avoid sleeping with drunk girls because of the morning-after regret. In a different time, perhaps, or maybe at a place that wasn’t his bar, he might have accepted under different grounds. Besides, if he was sleeping with someone, Vican didn’t want to be with them because they felt like they had to, but instead because they wanted to. Besides, he remembered, she seemed to be drinking with a purpose, and he wasn’t interested in tangling himself in someone else’s problems. Vican had far too many of his own to bear without any additional ones being piled on. He started to go back to his work, only to be stopped again by Columbia’s voice. This time, her words were directed at the quiet old man who sat in the corner. “For Snow’s sake, he’s going to have a heart attack and die now,” he said under his breath as the man’s eyes widened in shock. The old man stood, placed a bill on the counter, then stopped before walking out the door. His lips pulled upwards into a crooked grin that revealed many loose teeth. “Darlin’,” he said, his voice thick, “If I were you, I would f**k myself.” Vican couldn’t hold in his laugh of disbelief. The elderly man turned and walked for the door. “Have fun, you two!” he called, waving goodbye once before stepping outside. Vican watched in disbelief as he walked away, then looked back at the woman. “…Wow,” was all he managed at first. He laughed to himself for a moment. “I’m sure he would’ve taken you up on your offer,” Vican said with a half smile. Words: 360 Tags: Leliana HemwickNotes: sorry this is so short  |
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District 1
Heterosexual
20 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Stripper
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Jun 4, 2018 20:46:26 GMT -7
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Post by Leliana Hemwick on Jan 19, 2017 20:58:42 GMT -7
Leliana took another drink of the liquor. When she set the bottle down, her lips formed into a smirk. He finally denied sleeping with her, and she formed a pouty face. "Aw, well is your loss now, mister burtender," she said, laughing. She was having a great time with this man. He seemed so serious, and she wanted to change that. She wasn't fond of people being too serious when she was drunk, as she knew that took all the fun away. The brown-haired girl took another drink. God, she wanted some of his good liquor. It was the stuff she was able to drink at parties. From rich chocolate-gold vodka, to dry brandy that could make your drunk with a couple of sips. She craved for it, but alas, she had no money. Sticking with the cheap stuff was something she wasn't fond of, but it got her drunk, so she didn't care what it tasted like, even if her throat was on fire.
She saw the old man getting up and leaving. When he smiled, he had no teeth. She almost felt bad for the old man, but he was feeding into his habits, so her sadness for him was lifted the moment she thought of it. Lily laughed when he said that she should f**k herself. Ah, the old man had a sense of humor. There wasn't many poor people in District 1, but the people who were still had a sense of humor. Such as herself and that old man. She wondered how much the bartender's income was, but even drunk Leliana knew that she shouldn't ask that.
The old man waved, and she waved back with a smile. "Thanks! We will!" She called back. Though she knew he wasn't coming back with her, she still wanted to have some fun with him before the bar closed. She had no idea what time it was, but she honestly didn't care. She looked back at the bartender as he spoke. What he said proved he could be funny, and she laughed at his comment. "Well thas two of us. Where's the third?" She said with a smirk, winking at him once again. She wasn't going to give up just yet.
Lily tucked her hair behind her ear and took another drink. She was starting to get sloppy, and her vision was dizzying. She laughed to herself. "Ya got yourself girls?" She said, laughing. "I'm only playin!" She knew she was being obnoxious, but it was still hilarious to her. "You're a pretty han.." she started to say, but she stopped speaking as her stomach flushed with pain. In an instant, the woman threw up on the floor. Oh gosh. What a mess. "I...I can clean it...give me mop pease," she said smiling. She was still having a great time. Drinking to forget was something she never did, but right now, she was loving it.
WORD COUNT: 496
TAG: Vican Vesuvius |
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District 1
Living for the rejection.
Heterosexual
24 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Bartender
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 15:48:32 GMT -7
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Post by Vican Vesuvius on Feb 4, 2017 18:39:45 GMT -7
Vican watched on in amazement as the dark haired girl managed to take another drink from her bottle. It was downright impressive. It was the type of stuff he drank only when he first could legally drink, the type of stuff that kids bought from stores with a handful of coins. It was nearly poison, drank only when someone desperately wanted to get drunk. The way she drank made it seem as if she had no intention of stopping anytime soon even though she was obviously past tipsy. Really, she was verging on a train wreck. Vican would be lying if he said that he didn’t think it was at least somewhat funny. The slow loss of inhibitions people went through as they drank always was somewhat interesting to Vican, but only if it didn’t manage to piss him off first. Just when he thought that maybe she wasn’t terrible, Columbia lurched forward and threw up. “Dammit,” Vican groaned. Aside from doctors, Vican was positive that his profession saw the most vomit. Personally, he’d cleaned up far more than he would ever care to admit. Before he moved to clean it, Vican found the phone behind the counter and dialed the first number on speed dial. “Heeeello?” came the drawling voice on the other side of the line. ”Jacob? This is Vican Ve-“”Well, I’ll be damned! Vican, how are ya’, bud? It’s been aaaaaggessss since last time we talked, I’ll tell ya’ what,”The cherry on top of situations warranting a cab to escort a customer away was Jacob. Vican never met anyone else who spoke as slowly and frustratingly. ”Can you send a car to the bar?” he demanded, not wanting to deal with small talk. He bent down, finding the box absorbent powder from beneath the bar. ”Why, sure! Something a’ matter?” Jacob asked. ”No - I - just - can you get a car the hell here? Now would be good.” With that, Vican unceremoniously hung up the phone and stepped from around the bar for the second time that night. He tipped nearly half the contents of the box onto the floor. “Once you throw up, you’re out. A car’s on its’ way to take you home,” Vican said. Not to mention that it was almost closing time anyway. He reach over the counter and grabbed a broom to clean the rest of the mess. Words: 415 Tags: Leliana Hemwick |
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District 1
Heterosexual
20 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Stripper
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Jun 4, 2018 20:46:26 GMT -7
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Post by Leliana Hemwick on Feb 4, 2017 21:17:57 GMT -7
Leliana knew, even though she was drunk, that she was at the point that she was backout drunk. She was a pretty determined girl, and she was more than glad that she accomplished this feat. She didn't really drink all too often, only one glass here and there. But tonight, she obviously meant to go big or go home. Too bad she was about to go home. She could hear the bartender talking on the phone as she looked down at the floor. "I dun wanna go..." she said, looking at him with puppy eyes and a grin. It was true that she definitely wanted to stay and go home with the man, but she knew that wouldn't happen. Not her looking like this. Maybe tomorrow she would come back and be her flirtatious and sarcastic self, or maybe she would stay far away from this place with the embarrassment left in this bar. Either way, she didn't want to go home in a cab. They always harassed her.
When the bartender was next to her, she tried standing up but grabbed onto him. "Yew...can...have..." she paused, trying to get her thoughts together. "Alcohol...in bag." She wanted to give him her alcohol for the mess she caused, and explain that she was sorry. But for Lily, she was far to drunk to say sorry or explain why she wanted to give him the alcohol. She was, in her own way, sorry for the mess she made. But at the same time, she wasn't. This was his job, just like her job was to dance for strange men who probably had a plethora of diseases that resided in their pants. She had to deal with gross, obscene men, and he had to deal with cute girls throwing up. It was just the way of life.
She held onto his arm with one hand, barely being able to stand up. In the other hand, she held her bottle of liquor. Leliana knew he was strong, but she could definitely feel it in his arm now. Lily, despite her petite stature, was pretty strong as well. She danced on poles for a living, so that definitely required a lot of upper and lower body strength. She wouldn't be surprised if he just threw her on the floor. She was being indecent, after all. She took another drink of her alcohol. "Come back with me...pleaseeeee," she said, once again. Lily really thought he was handsome and wanted someone with her. She didn't necessarily want to sleep with him, but she more wanted comfort. Her brother had been killed, and she wondered if the man who murdered him would come after her too. The independent girl was scared, but she wouldn't admit it for the life of her.
WORD COUNT: 471
TAG: Vican Vesuvius
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District 1
Living for the rejection.
Heterosexual
24 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Bartender
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 15:48:32 GMT -7
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Post by Vican Vesuvius on Feb 13, 2017 20:52:34 GMT -7
Vican tensed as the woman grabbed onto his arm. He was very used to people with absolutely no balance or coordination, but sometimes their grabby hands got annoying. This time, though, Vican just wanted to ensure that the girl left the bar and got in the cab safely, so afterward he could clean the floor and close up. Vican was fairly tired from the long day he’d put in and was more than ready to go home to his dog and sleep. For the moment, though, he had this last customer to take care of. Vican frowned as she stumbled a little, offering out her alcohol. Vican began to lead her towards the door slowly. When she took another drink of her alcohol, Vican groaned. “I’ll take the alcohol, all right,” he said, prying the bottle from her hand and dropping it onto a nearby table. He would throw it away later when Vican didn’t have a very drunk girl hanging off his body, the entire state of her vertical position entirely dependent on him alone. Finally, Vican met his destination on the painstakingly slow walk to the door. Outside, the cab already idled. At her last grapple to get him to come home with her, Vican laughed just a little. “You’re so drunk, sweetheart. I doubt you can even make it to your bed when you get home - I’ll even bet that you’ll end up passing up on the couch or the floor. But if you come back later, a lot less drunk and generally coherent, we’ll see how things go. Yes?” Before he got an answer, though, Vican opened the door to the night and brought her outside. He opened the cab door and helped her inside. Before shutting it and sending her away, Vican smiled a half smile. “So, maybe I’ll see you again. Be safe.” Words: 350 Tags: Leliana Hemwick |
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