Do the Drink Thing

Old Rose Harbor is Anaxas' main trade port; it is also the nation's criminal headquarters, home to the Bad Brothers and Silas Hawke, King of the Underworld.
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Posts: 41
Joined: Sat Jul 07, 2018 1:21 pm
Topics: 10
Location: Old Rose Harbour
Race: Passive
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Writer: Dizzy

Wed Feb 13, 2019 1:37 pm

31st Day of Achtus
To say that Leander Aguilar’s face wasn’t a familiar one in certain… establishments would be a lie from the lips of whoever uttered it. In his formative years, when the young passive wanted to pretend to himself that he hadn’t sunk so low, he had developed a routine of patronage: visiting each in turn, changing his location each night so as to avoid the suspicion that he did not rely so heavily on the toxic liquids to get though each day. It became a pattern, and the rotation took a few days, but it was nightly and, as the years passed, it could not be ignored, not least by himself.

By that point, Leander was so ingrained in his routine that it had become a tradition of sorts, and he continued to meander on his crawl, never deviating from his self-imposed rules on drinking. Whatever the bar tenders thought when he walked through the door, there was no doubt they were aware of his consistency: he was expected. Regular patrons also grew to expect him and, though he mostly kept to himself, Leander had managed to develop a relationship of sorts with some of them.

One such regular, Leander often crossed paths with. Not always: Kit was hardly as rigid in his routine as Leo, so hardly as predictable. There were many things about the pair that were as different as the sun and moon, but they shared enough in common that drinking together was easy. The knowledge of the other’s status as a galdor initially had Leo warring with himself: here was a man who had had everything, and had thrown it away. The years of company had painted a very different picture, however.

It was a while into their acquaintanceship that Leo started to feel a pleasant warmth of familiarity spread through his gut whenever he saw the older man, inevitable drink in hand, standing at the bar. It took even longer until he realised what that sensation was.

This afternoon, pushing open the door to the tavern, he saw the galdor’s silhouette in the dimly lit room as his eyes adjusted to the light. The corners of his lips curled upwards into a smile and he sauntered over. “We must stop meeting this way,” the counterfeiter said, clapping a hand on the other’s shoulder as he announced his presence and came to rest against the bar. “The usual,” he muttered to the barmaid with barely a glance in her direction, typical for his interaction with anyone providing him a service. That done, he looked back at Kit, smile returning to his lips and his tone becoming more animated, as he finished his greeting, “People will talk.

word count: 476

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Posts: 16
Joined: Fri Jan 04, 2019 1:03 pm
Topics: 1
Race: Galdor
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Writer: Foxing

Thu Feb 14, 2019 4:50 am

31st Achtus | Evening
Some dive
Kit would say that it had been a long day… but he’d woken around noon so that would have been a blatant lie. It had been a slow day. The music wouldn’t muse and he had no jobs for the day and far too much energy, and the walls of his little apartment had felt like they were closing in.

Shae was… somewhere. She’d said she had some business and he hadn’t been in the mood to ask what. He’d left a note in the pie tin that seemed to have become a permanent fixture on his kitchen table- you were supposed to clean and return them, but somehow they never had- telling her he’d be out late and not to worry.

Might as well be bored and guttered as bored and sober, he’d figured, so here he was, propping up the bar at the nearest seedy inn. Kit didn’t want quality liquor tonight, he wanted cheap and strong, and the paintstripper gin that they served here, alongside their piss-poor beer, fit the bill just nicely.

The golly was leaning back against the scarred and pitted bar, one elbow propping him up as he swirled the liquid in his chipped glass when a familiar face caught his eye.


The corner of his mouth lifted in a lazy half-smile, and he raised his glass in greeting as the younger man joked.

“Oh, come now, darling, you’d be so bereft if we didn’t bump into each other at least once a week. Though...mind you… it’s been a while since I last saw your shining face, though that may be...hmm…”

… I've been spending more time at home than usual...for some reason...

He hadn’t eaten much today, and this was his second glass- and, if you knew him, you could tell. Though perfectly composed, when Kit was sloshed, his words became crisper, more defined, his accent more cultured, and it was impossible to forget you were dealing with a galdor. As if the high cheekbones and insouciant field didn’t scream it for him anyway…

“What's been filling your time this last month or so?”
he enquired sociably, knocking back the dregs of his gin and turning towards the passive as he nudged the glass over the bar with a nod to the barmaid.

“Same again, thanks sweetheart,” the man confirmed, crossing one ankle over the other as he settled back again, this position clearly one he'd been in for a while.
word count: 450
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