Holding My Spot (Drayton)

by **Vervin** on May 27th, 2011, 5:20 am

Day 65, Spring, AV 511

There were two ways Vervin could wake up. In a bad mood or drunk. Tonight he was nearly sober, the lack of booze in his system leaving a slug like trail of wet dog sweat over his body.Easily remedied, he thought to himself as he left the confines of his utterly smashed apartment in the Slums. Wearing his usual breeches and boots, he had left his pouch of mizas buried in his room beneath the remains of the table. He suspected there were plenty of gracious volunteers ready to donate to his cause.

The best place to shake down people for loot was the Great Slag Heap. Most of the kids hung out there, besides any of the no lifers that couldn't get into the taverns, for whatever reason. the streets were already coming to life, as most of Sunberth did once night fell and shadows concealed actions. Poor petching fools, having to hide. He imagined there were plenty of leering looks and death wishes being fire at him from the darkness. That's where cowards generally did their fighting.

The flames of the heap lit the sky for quite an area at night, leaving the alleys near it fairly barren with the aforementioned cowards seeking deeper darkness. The sounds of chaos came to Vervin's ears, happily. Yelling, talking, laughing, swearing, fighting, breaking. The music of Sunberth. A brief shudder through his innards signaled the man to seek out alcohol or face the consequences. Eyes glanced and flashed at him as he made a beeline for the group hunched in a circle, their arms moving in a way that said they were rolling the bones. That meant a juicy pot.

Speaking of, Vervin's eyes wandered over a gathering of teenage girls who were no doubt the arm candy of the gamblers. They could feel him glaring and naturally recoiled. it almost made him change directions. Fortunately he saw a guy on the sideline swigging something from a clay mug. He kept walking until he was almost chest to chest with the guy, promptly snatching the mug from his hand. "Hey Vag! That's ---" A swift headbutt rocketed into the former drinker's face, some extra momentum provided by a foot forward and a small launch. The brief pain in Vervin's head stopped the ringing pain from lack of alcohol.

"Mine." A quick sniff put the mug's contents as hooch, brewed up in some basement, no doubt. the pungent bite was just what he needed though, the rancid firewater disappearing down his throat in no time. With a smacking of his lips and a crash of clay mug, he wiped his lips with his forearm and picked back up toward the gamblers.

by **Drayton** on May 30th, 2011, 3:47 pm

OOCI am so sorry for taking so long. Also, I didn’t have Eleanor initiate interactions because I wasn’t sure how to strike up a conversation with someone who head butts folks. 

The thick scent of the Slag Heap sank into Eleanor’s nose as she, Demri and Jaena approached. They came because there was nothing else to do, because they didn’t need to steal breakfast for tomorrow, in fact, they had cash to burn. Demri wanted to gamble. ”I’m feeling lucky, we got a big take today, so why not double it with the dice?” Jaena wanted to find that boy, Toby, who came by their shack some nights. Eleanor didn’t like Toby, he smelled like old beer and breathed too loudly. She wasn’t fond of gambling either, but would take it over watching Jaena and Toby make out any night.

So the three of them stepped into the light of the Slag Heap Fire and felt the humid heat of the spring evening replaced by something drier that sank into their skin with an oily persistence. Jaena reached up on her tip toes, her green eyes scanning the shadowy benches for Toby. With a grin she found him, and moved over quickly. I’m surprised she can keep her balance with how much she’s swinging her hips… Eleanor thought, following Demri to a circle of gamblers.

He knelt in the dirt, the orange splotches of firelight staining the back of his neck as he bent over the die. Eleanor pulled up a barrel to watch. The wood was dry and powdery and creaked against rusty bands as she settled her weight onto it. She didn’t see many of her friends here tonight, and the ones she had brought with her were otherwise occupied, so she settled in for a boring evening, picking at the black grains of filth that had made their home beneath her nails.

She was distracted from her manicure by a raised voice to her left, and looked up in time to see a huge man head butt someone else. Someone in a group of girls squealed as the man crumpled and his drink was downed. That was… Harsh. Eleanor readjusted her seat on the barrel edge, the wooden rim was pressing uncomfortably into her rear, and she could feel the pricking sensation of needles creeping up her legs. Now the man was moving toward the gamblers, Demri’s gamblers, and she watched him with caution as he came closer to her edge of the group.

by **Archelon** on August 25th, 2011, 9:13 am

Thread Award

“Why yes, I did just same image twice: For good reason : The second verse!!! Oh when you have friends, things are sunny and bright!!!"

And the Results!!!!:

Nin :

Drayton :

Would you like some extra turtle sauce ? :