Raising the Stakes
Posted: Tue Sep 03, 2019 3:54 pm
2nd Day of Berthas, 2718
Never let it be said that Leo wasn’t a creature of habit. He could often be seen in the early hours of the morning - every morning - walking home as if the ground is the deck of a storm tossed boat. The night wasn’t even half through and Leo already appeared that way: each foot landing on the road as if the collision of shoe on gravel wasn’t entirely anticipated.
It wasn’t that he meant to be drunk, yet at least. But each drink seemed like a better and better idea. In the back of his mind, Leander knew the stairs at home, that he usually took two at a time, should be a mountain to climb on all fours. Being kicked out of his first pub should have been enough. But it wasn’t, it never was. Staggering through the darkened streets, Leo happened across a pub he didn’t frequent often... least not now since his diablerie had been unleashed on the King of the Underworld - taking half the bar with it - and Hawke had claimed him as one of his own.
It was a blessing really, that he hadn’t been killed that night. Nevertheless, he had not come back here, but tonight it seemed like a fine option. Pushing his way into the already crowded establishment, Leander glanced around. It was a relatively rowdy option, with fights that broke out nightly over the odd card game. That suited Leo just fine.
The bar looked like it needed help to be propped up. The passive made a beeline over to it, leaning heavily to stop it from falling over. “A pint, if you’d be so kind, my good lady,” Leo slurred. The barmaid looked at him sceptically, clearly assessing his current state. Despite what she saw, she decided to pour it anyway. With less coordination than a concussed wick, Leo flipped a coin from his fingers, aiming for the barmaid’s hands. He missed by a mile, but she was probably just a terrible catch.
But Leo didn’t just want to drink. Now that he was sure the bar top wouldn’t fall over without his help, he scanned the room as a whole. “Anyone up for a game?”
It wasn’t that he meant to be drunk, yet at least. But each drink seemed like a better and better idea. In the back of his mind, Leander knew the stairs at home, that he usually took two at a time, should be a mountain to climb on all fours. Being kicked out of his first pub should have been enough. But it wasn’t, it never was. Staggering through the darkened streets, Leo happened across a pub he didn’t frequent often... least not now since his diablerie had been unleashed on the King of the Underworld - taking half the bar with it - and Hawke had claimed him as one of his own.
It was a blessing really, that he hadn’t been killed that night. Nevertheless, he had not come back here, but tonight it seemed like a fine option. Pushing his way into the already crowded establishment, Leander glanced around. It was a relatively rowdy option, with fights that broke out nightly over the odd card game. That suited Leo just fine.
The bar looked like it needed help to be propped up. The passive made a beeline over to it, leaning heavily to stop it from falling over. “A pint, if you’d be so kind, my good lady,” Leo slurred. The barmaid looked at him sceptically, clearly assessing his current state. Despite what she saw, she decided to pour it anyway. With less coordination than a concussed wick, Leo flipped a coin from his fingers, aiming for the barmaid’s hands. He missed by a mile, but she was probably just a terrible catch.
But Leo didn’t just want to drink. Now that he was sure the bar top wouldn’t fall over without his help, he scanned the room as a whole. “Anyone up for a game?”