Post by tori on Apr 29, 2009 18:24:38 GMT -5
Sounds of things smashing and glass snapping and cracking rung out from behind the bar. The person causing this was cursing under her breath, obviously not happy with her findings.
"Common, this was a fully-functional freaking bar at some point. There has to be some booze around here. . ." she trailed off, cursing as another bottle smashed to the floor, it's contents long drained away and simply adding to the glistening mess of glass on the floor. She threw up her hands in exasperation and frustration, falling back into a sitting position and pulling what seemed to be just a normal cigarette out of her pocket. She pulled out a match, lit the roll of paper, and puffed away, looking around the old abandoned bar with mild distaste.
As much as she hated going into the territories belonging to the gangs, she felt that she didn't have much choice but to waltz on in after noticing the bar in Assassins' land. Of course, she was high at the time. Now that the high was wearing off, she was beginning to worry about being caught again. There was no way what-so-ever she was allowing herself to get caught over some booze. She's stayed out of this whole gang war thing so far, she wasn't going to get involved now.
. . . But what if she never got a chance like this again? There had to be perfectly good booze sitting somewhere around here, after all. And it's not like every store in town sold the stuff to minors. It was worth the risk if she managed to take just a few bottles home.
With that thought, she got up, careful that her joint didn't drop out of her mouth as she set to work again. This time she wasn't as mindful of the ruckus she made, her jittery movements knocking bottles over and off the shelves. Some bottles still had liquids in them, but she dismissed most of them with a dissatisfied sniff. Too old, not enough in the bottles, who knew the reason, they simply weren't good enough for her.
Eventually she found a good bottle, almost full and not reeking of dust and mildew. This wasn't before she had made a total mess of the place, however, with glass shards sticking out of puddles of beer and wine. She popped the top off the bottle and ground what remained of the joint into the floorboards, taking a huge swig of the beer as she did so. She sat back and sighed contentedly. Of course, she was sitting in the middle of a mess of broken glass and old beer and wine, but she was too high and now slightly drunk to notice. Instead she imagined a beach, the foul liquids turning into foaming waves, the glass turning to sand.
"Mmmmmmmhmmmmmm, just the way I like it," she said, sliding forward until she was laying flat on her back. Suddenly it struck her that she was still on Assassins' territory, but she shrugged the thought off and took another swig. She'd get up and leave after she found a few more bottles to take home. When that was, she didn't know. For now, she would lay on the mess she made, drifting between her drug-induced world and the reality that she tried so hard to escape with her drugs.
"Common, this was a fully-functional freaking bar at some point. There has to be some booze around here. . ." she trailed off, cursing as another bottle smashed to the floor, it's contents long drained away and simply adding to the glistening mess of glass on the floor. She threw up her hands in exasperation and frustration, falling back into a sitting position and pulling what seemed to be just a normal cigarette out of her pocket. She pulled out a match, lit the roll of paper, and puffed away, looking around the old abandoned bar with mild distaste.
As much as she hated going into the territories belonging to the gangs, she felt that she didn't have much choice but to waltz on in after noticing the bar in Assassins' land. Of course, she was high at the time. Now that the high was wearing off, she was beginning to worry about being caught again. There was no way what-so-ever she was allowing herself to get caught over some booze. She's stayed out of this whole gang war thing so far, she wasn't going to get involved now.
. . . But what if she never got a chance like this again? There had to be perfectly good booze sitting somewhere around here, after all. And it's not like every store in town sold the stuff to minors. It was worth the risk if she managed to take just a few bottles home.
With that thought, she got up, careful that her joint didn't drop out of her mouth as she set to work again. This time she wasn't as mindful of the ruckus she made, her jittery movements knocking bottles over and off the shelves. Some bottles still had liquids in them, but she dismissed most of them with a dissatisfied sniff. Too old, not enough in the bottles, who knew the reason, they simply weren't good enough for her.
Eventually she found a good bottle, almost full and not reeking of dust and mildew. This wasn't before she had made a total mess of the place, however, with glass shards sticking out of puddles of beer and wine. She popped the top off the bottle and ground what remained of the joint into the floorboards, taking a huge swig of the beer as she did so. She sat back and sighed contentedly. Of course, she was sitting in the middle of a mess of broken glass and old beer and wine, but she was too high and now slightly drunk to notice. Instead she imagined a beach, the foul liquids turning into foaming waves, the glass turning to sand.
"Mmmmmmmhmmmmmm, just the way I like it," she said, sliding forward until she was laying flat on her back. Suddenly it struck her that she was still on Assassins' territory, but she shrugged the thought off and took another swig. She'd get up and leave after she found a few more bottles to take home. When that was, she didn't know. For now, she would lay on the mess she made, drifting between her drug-induced world and the reality that she tried so hard to escape with her drugs.