Post by Connor Greaves on Mar 27, 2018 14:36:23 GMT -5
Ooc: Half ctp, half Sp
I knew that if I kept at the pace I was going, that I was eventually going to burn myself out. This was the fourth mission to the world of the living, in just as many months. The moment I had returned from one, I took another one. It was unusual for the squad I was in, and made me seriously consider applying for another one. I was not the type to just relay information, to just be a glorified mail carrier. I knew that it was important for the Seireitei, but only because of how backwards their society was. The power grid was severely limited, only really existing in the twelfth squad, and everywhere else might as well be medieval era technology!
It was enough to drive a man to drink, especially since I considered myself fairly good with technology. So, that was what I did. I was a week into this mission, and I was feeling out of it. It was grating on the mental state to wonder as a ghost, unseen and heard by all those who still lived. The majority of them anyway. I heard of those who had the ability to see the dead, but have yet to personally meet any. Aside from those two anyway, but that was a different issue altogether. Regardless, I had decided that I needed to relax, and sought out a bar after hours of soul searching.
It was a fairly nice establishment, but entirely too loud for my tastes. It was early in the evening on a Friday, yet the building was already serving a fair number of people. I could count at least ten people from the entrance, mostly young men like myself, all watching a game, football from the looks of it. I ignored the booing of the people, and made my way over to the counter. I could have called this place a sports bar, but that would probably be too generous a description. It was more like a bar with a big television, serving the few people that this town had to offer in the way of drinkers, and I had happened to show up on a game night.
I was mostly ignored thanks to this, and made it over to the counter unimpeded. The bartender was focused on the screen as well, but still acknowledged my presence with a quick glance. My gigai was wearing blue jeans, black boots, a white button-up dress shirt, and an eyepatch over my left eye. I despised the lack of a mask, but I knew it would draw the wrong kind of attention. I looked nervous, I could tell as the bartender smirked at me. "What'll ya have?" He asked, voice full of mirth. His team must have been winning. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a small plastic card. "Bottle of whisky. Strongest you have." I said calmly, my voice slightly demanding.
He gave me a funny look, expecting something more. I calmly pulled out a second plastic card, a fake id that the shinigami made for those on extended trips to the human world, or made trips there often. I supposed I was in the category of both. He gave it a once over, and shrugged when he was unable to find anything out of place, before he gave me a large bottle filled with an amber liquid, along with a short glass with a large ice ball in it. I took a seat at the counter, and popped open the liquid courage. I ignored the glass, and chugged about half of the bottle in a single go, giving me that all too familiar buzz that I desperately needed.
I heard a loud whistle of appreciation from behind me. I turned, only to see the group of people staring at me. I blushed in embarrassment, before facing away again, deciding to use the glass for the rest of it. Baring that moment, and me refusing to pay any attention to the laughing bartender, the night continued on without issue. I was noticeably drunk after that, but having a gigai helped buffer the effects of alcohol poisoning for me, leaving me with a heavy buzz. Something I was less than happy with. Sighing to myself, I made to leave, deciding I wasted enough time and money here.
Unfortunately, one of the other people bumped into me. She was substantially shorter than I was, standing at what I could only guess to be five foot five, and was currently leaning on me for support. She was blond, not natural, if her browning roots were any indication, and she was wearing enough makeup to make a clown jealous, even with her tanned complection. She gave me a flirty look, as she grabbed and held my arm. "Hey, Howzit goin?" She asked in a slurred voice. She was a beautiful woman for sure, but this was not something I wanted, especially not from a drunk.
I knew that if I kept at the pace I was going, that I was eventually going to burn myself out. This was the fourth mission to the world of the living, in just as many months. The moment I had returned from one, I took another one. It was unusual for the squad I was in, and made me seriously consider applying for another one. I was not the type to just relay information, to just be a glorified mail carrier. I knew that it was important for the Seireitei, but only because of how backwards their society was. The power grid was severely limited, only really existing in the twelfth squad, and everywhere else might as well be medieval era technology!
It was enough to drive a man to drink, especially since I considered myself fairly good with technology. So, that was what I did. I was a week into this mission, and I was feeling out of it. It was grating on the mental state to wonder as a ghost, unseen and heard by all those who still lived. The majority of them anyway. I heard of those who had the ability to see the dead, but have yet to personally meet any. Aside from those two anyway, but that was a different issue altogether. Regardless, I had decided that I needed to relax, and sought out a bar after hours of soul searching.
It was a fairly nice establishment, but entirely too loud for my tastes. It was early in the evening on a Friday, yet the building was already serving a fair number of people. I could count at least ten people from the entrance, mostly young men like myself, all watching a game, football from the looks of it. I ignored the booing of the people, and made my way over to the counter. I could have called this place a sports bar, but that would probably be too generous a description. It was more like a bar with a big television, serving the few people that this town had to offer in the way of drinkers, and I had happened to show up on a game night.
I was mostly ignored thanks to this, and made it over to the counter unimpeded. The bartender was focused on the screen as well, but still acknowledged my presence with a quick glance. My gigai was wearing blue jeans, black boots, a white button-up dress shirt, and an eyepatch over my left eye. I despised the lack of a mask, but I knew it would draw the wrong kind of attention. I looked nervous, I could tell as the bartender smirked at me. "What'll ya have?" He asked, voice full of mirth. His team must have been winning. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a small plastic card. "Bottle of whisky. Strongest you have." I said calmly, my voice slightly demanding.
He gave me a funny look, expecting something more. I calmly pulled out a second plastic card, a fake id that the shinigami made for those on extended trips to the human world, or made trips there often. I supposed I was in the category of both. He gave it a once over, and shrugged when he was unable to find anything out of place, before he gave me a large bottle filled with an amber liquid, along with a short glass with a large ice ball in it. I took a seat at the counter, and popped open the liquid courage. I ignored the glass, and chugged about half of the bottle in a single go, giving me that all too familiar buzz that I desperately needed.
I heard a loud whistle of appreciation from behind me. I turned, only to see the group of people staring at me. I blushed in embarrassment, before facing away again, deciding to use the glass for the rest of it. Baring that moment, and me refusing to pay any attention to the laughing bartender, the night continued on without issue. I was noticeably drunk after that, but having a gigai helped buffer the effects of alcohol poisoning for me, leaving me with a heavy buzz. Something I was less than happy with. Sighing to myself, I made to leave, deciding I wasted enough time and money here.
Unfortunately, one of the other people bumped into me. She was substantially shorter than I was, standing at what I could only guess to be five foot five, and was currently leaning on me for support. She was blond, not natural, if her browning roots were any indication, and she was wearing enough makeup to make a clown jealous, even with her tanned complection. She gave me a flirty look, as she grabbed and held my arm. "Hey, Howzit goin?" She asked in a slurred voice. She was a beautiful woman for sure, but this was not something I wanted, especially not from a drunk.