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Post by Kevay Taylor on Nov 11, 2012 8:40:30 GMT -5
Life had gone from good to bad in record time. One moment he had been pretty damn happy, surrounded by adoring admirers, best friend close by, and the next he had been abandoned naked in bed, more than a little confused and upset. It seemed that Kevay's ideas on how to cheer people was pretty warped. Note to self; fucking your best friend to try and make them feel better after the execution of their brother (which may have been a little his fault) was not a good idea.
He’d waited, God knew that he had waited. He hadn't left that room in days in the hope that she would come back, that she would do whatever she needed to do and then come back. She would come back, right? Lexie was his only friend, he needed her.
She hadn’t come back. Lexie was gone. When he realised this he practically fled from the town he had been staying in, leaving with no clue where he was going or how he was going to get there. It had taken a few days of wandering aimlessly for him to reach Lait, and by that time he knew what he needed to do to make himself better. He needed to consult his old best friend; whiskey.
The first tavern that he came to didn't look all that reputable; the paint was peeling off the weather worn sign, the windows were smeared with grime and the door was pretty much hung off its hinges. It was perfect; just the place to hide away from the world and drown his sorrows in cheap alcohol.
The stench of sweat and ale hit him like a wall as he walked in. It was warm inside and there were people. Hell, he could even cope with the straw that was strewn over the floor to soak up split booze and the faint smell of urine that lay under everything. This place could be anywhere, all that mattered that a.) he wasn't alone, b.) it was warm and c.) they had copious amounts of whiskey.
The cupid slid onto an empty bar stool and dropped his bag to the ground by his feet, reaching into his coat to pull out his coins and tap on the bar. The young barmaid almost tripped over her own feet as she looked at him, surprisingly pretty to be working in a place like this really, but from the smile he received he guessed that she was far from innocent. Hell, to put up with this rowdy crowd she would have to know how to look after herself.
"Whiskey, please." He ordered with a heavy sigh, not even in the mood to flirt. Oh God, he must be broken if he wasn't in the mood to charm. "A whole bottle, or two. Whatever. I just want whiskey." The woman arched an eyebrow before nodding, placing two slightly dusty bottles on the bar in front of him. Kevay paid without another word, drawing a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe around the neck of one of the bottle before taking a large gulp, shuddering as the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat and warmed up his insides. Ah, he felt better already. [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Nov 11, 2012 9:51:24 GMT -5
Looking at things logically, Kevay’s situation was pretty similar to Phoenix’s, and probably just as bad. He had a missing jester who had walked out after a tragic situation; Phoenix had a princess stolen out of his life shortly after he’d been coming to terms with the death of a very close friend. The only difference between them was that Phoenix had been sitting at the bar for a helluva lot longer than Kevay.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t gone searching for Rory. Far from it. He’d torn Cressa up for days, mixing himself up in gangs as dangerous as they were useful, threatening guards and getting into more trouble than even he was accustomed, turning the city upside down and scouring its underbelly for any information. But it was as if the Princess of Avalas had never even existed.
Rumours abounded near the port, however, as they always do, and it was one of those rumours that took the thief from the slums of Cressa and into Ecritetre’s Lait, the maritime nightmare of a city. The ship hadn’t agreed with Phoenix and neither had the lack of alcohol. The place stank of fish and brine, people spoke Common with an accent he wasn’t used to and he was all but determined to have a bad time to begin with. Lait was meeting his expectations at every turn.
The rumour he’d been wildly following had fizzled out a week after his arrival. Sullen and hopeless, Phoenix had meandered into a nearby tavern on the seafront, and he’d not walked back out since. By the time Kevay arrived he would be slouched over the bar with an empty bottle of… of something clutched in one hand, fiery red hair a mess that fell into his face. It had come loose of its plait some time ago, but he’d deigned to notice or care. He reeked of booze, was in sore need of a wash and a cup of coffee, and in a terrible mood to boot.
Wouldn’t his father be proud, he thought darkly as he noticed someone slump down at the bar beside him. Two bottles of whiskey? Guy was pushing the boat out. Pushing himself into an unsteady sitting position, Phoenix regarded Kevay with drunken abandon. This meant, in short, that he stared right at him for some time without regard as to how it would make the other man feel.
He snorted after a while. “Pretty boy,” he muttered, tapping the bar for another glass of whatever his few meagre coins would buy him. “The hell’ve you gotta be worried ‘bout?”
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Nov 11, 2012 10:53:39 GMT -5
Kevay had been called worse things in his life. His gaze slid over to Phoenix as he slurred at him, the cupid taking a moment to look at the meagre coins he placed on the bar before he shook his head, nudging a bottle towards him and sweeping the coins back towards Phoenix. “I’ve got pretty boy problems.” He sighed maybe a little too dramatically before he launched into a full and frank explanation of what had happened to him. He told him all about Lexie and her brother and the sex and then her disappearing act. “So now I’ve lost my jester and I don’t know how to find her and I want her back.” He whined, half way through his bottle of whiskey and suitably drunk by the time. Well, Phoenix was drunk and Kevay wasn’t exactly a shy person, they were practically fated to be drunken buddies.
“Why so glum, Red? Only just realised you’ve gone blind from the cheap booze or something?” He asked, taking another large gulp from his bottle, slurring just a little as the drink started to hit him. “Your sad is so strong I think I might choke on it...or maybe there was a big in the whiskey…” He frowned and peered into the bottle. Alright, so drinking like that on an empty stomach wasn’t good for Kevay. By the end of the day he would be sprawled out on the straw covered floor unconscious.
“Maybe you need to get laid? The laid helps most people…unless it’s your best friend and their brother just died…then the laid doesn’t help.” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Nov 12, 2012 11:41:12 GMT -5
Phoenix arched an eyebrow as his coins were nudged back to him and he suddenly had a whole bottle of whiskey with which to drown his sorrows; pretty boy Kevay might be, but he was an exceedingly charitable pretty boy. Either that or he was just really stupid. Phoenix was far from being someone to look a gift horse in the mouth, however, and he grunted to the barmaid to tell her not to worry about his order after all, stuffing the coins back into his pocket. “Pretty boys have problems?” he asked, looking mildly amused by that and wiping the neck of the bottle of whiskey after cracking it open.
He was about to comment on Kevay’s dramatic gesture, but then out of nowhere he found himself the unwitting shoulder to cry on. Not knowing what to do other than listen, he chugged back the whiskey, savouring the burn as it went down. “Sounds rough,” he said when Kevay was finished, his voice a little hoarse from the sheer potency of the alcohol. “You should’a gone chasin’ after her. I would’a. She might’ve wanted to be chased and you just didn’t know. You not heard to word from her since you left?” He asked, scoffing as the conversation was turned onto himself.
“Me? I went blind from the booze ages ago,” he slurred, peering into his half empty bottle and sighing a little. “My sad is strong?” he repeated, an amused grin making its way across his face. “You’re a bit of a woman, ain’t you? All feelings and shit.” He laughed, flailing a little to try and stop himself falling off the barstool.
“I lost my princess,” he said quietly after another gulp of whiskey. “She got taken away back in Cressa, an’ now she’s gone. Thought she’d be here. There were rumours an’ everythin’… but no. Nothin’. Zilch. Zero. A big giant bugger all.” He sighed.
Glancing across at Kevay, suddenly what he was saying made a lot of sense. “Laid you say? I could go for that. Anyone wanna do me!?” He yelled to the bar in general, straightening up and smiling broadly as he spun around on his stool.
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Nov 12, 2012 14:09:53 GMT -5
Eh, it was a little of column A and a little of column B; Kevay was feeling charitable, but he was also pretty stupid at times. “Pretty boys have just as many problems are regular guys, but ours are just prettier.” Kevay reasoned with a rather serious nod, swaying on his stool. He had no idea how in the Hell Phoenix was still sat upright because he was only coming to the bottom of his first bottle and already the world was tilting alarmingly around him. It was a miracle that he was able to stay on the stool, so he has come to the conclusion that Phoenix must be roped to the chair because there was no logical explanation for how he managed to keep sat up like that.
“I couldn’t go chasin’ her, I don’t know where she went to. If she wanted me chasin’ her she would’ve left me clues or something.” Kevay sighed into his bottle, shaking his head. “Not heard a peep. My jester is just gone and I don’t know where to look for her. I miss her.” He complained, though he felt rather guilty for his complaining when Phoenix’s story came tumbling out.
“A princess?” He gasped, eyes lighting up. A princess was the ultimate goal. Queens were old and wrinkled, but princesses? They were gorgeous and perfect and unattainable. Oh, he would have given his favourite pair of shoes up just for the chance to get close to a princess. All of this probably told in the dirty little glimmer in his eyes; pretty insensitive when Phoenix was pining over the loss of this girl. “She was probably lying about being a princess anyway and just went back to her husband or something.” He shrugged to him, shaking his head. “Women are full of lies.”
He perked back up as the conversation swung back around too something that he was comfortable with; sex. “That one!” He pointed out a buxom red head with freckles who giggled as Phoenix yelled. “If you can walk enough to get around the back of the bar she will lift her skirts for you in a flash. Just leave your valuables somewhere her hands can’t get.” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Nov 13, 2012 7:33:55 GMT -5
"Prettier problems, huh? Psh, I can believe that, I s'pose. Seems like the way the world would work," Phoenix scoffed with a slight shake of his head (he was afraid to move too much just in case he fell off his stool and/or threw up). "Maybe she did leave you clues, but you were jus' too wrapped up in yer pretty boy problems to see 'em," he suggested with a quiet laugh. "Bet if we went back to wherevertheheck she left you to, we'd find all kinda clues." He glanced back at Kevay, though the amusement in his eyes faded when he said he missed the jester, whoever she was. Phoenix could sympathise with that well enough.
He nodded gently in confirmation that yes, it had been a princess, and yes, he had still lost her. A dark look passed across his face, however, at the look he caught in Kevay's eyes; Phoenix was drunk enough that he might have even taken a swing at him had he not been so wasted. That and, well, Kevay had shared his booze with him. You didn't smack people who gave you whiskey, that was just impolite. "You got your jester," he told him instead, his tone sharper than he intended, "you can leave my princess alone. And she was a princess, she didn't have no husband," he said grumpily. "And she'd never lie. She was perfect."
Luckily, Phoenix was pulled from his self-pity by the promise of getting up the skirts of the buxom redhead who had apparently found in his outburst some kind of charm. A grin found its way onto his face and he glanced back at Kevay again. "I don't got any valuables," he told him - it wasn't exactly true, but he was feeling pretty down anyway, so it was easier just to continue spiralling. "But even if I did she'd never get her hands on 'em. It's harder than you think t'steal from a thief," he said, slipping from his barstool and taking a moment to make sure he wasn't going to fall on his face.
Then he swaggered up to the redhead (it was more like staggered, really), offering her a sleazy little smile. "Was that a yes, then?"
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Nov 14, 2012 16:58:50 GMT -5
“Yeah, the world’s a bitch. Just when you think things are going fine the bad luck comes back around and bites you in the ass.” Kevay sighed heavily, tipping the bottle up, looking bemused when nothing came out of it. He frowned up at the bottle, attempting to wring more booze out, and shake more booze out, and then curse more booze out before finally giving in and paying up for more. He needed more; he could still see sort of straight after that last one. The whiskey here must be faulty or watered down or something. It couldn’t be that Kevay was already smashed but the drunk was just waiting for him to stand up before it pounced him; that’s what it used to do.
Very luckily the conversation didn’t stay on the subject of Phoenix’s princess for very long. Suitable mating partners for Kevay’s new found drinking partner seemed like a must safer topic, and it was something that he was an expert on. “I dunno. It’s probably not all that hard to steal from a thief who can barely remember his own name. But, that point is moot if you don’t have stuff worth stealing.”
He laughed as Phoenic lurched to his feet, yelling encouragement after him as he staggered across the room. The red head smirked wickedly as she looked up at him, tilting her head to one side. “Depends. You sure that you’re not too drunk to function?” She asked, her friends giggling. [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Nov 15, 2012 15:09:28 GMT -5
“I remember my name perfect, it’s Phoenix!” He grinned over his shoulder at Kevay, but he was rapidly becoming far too interested in wooing the redhead to be bothered with any masculine conversation. “And it’s very nice to meet you,” he informed the young woman, offering a charming smile and taking her hand to place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “My dear, I am never too drunk to function,” he informed her, only spurred on by Kevay’s encouragement. “If your friends keep giggling like that I might take offence. My friend and I,” he nodded back at Kevay, “might have to take it upon ourselves to prove to you how well we can function.”
Well, he assumed Kevay would want in on this, considering that he’d been the one to suggest getting laid. And he was reasonably sure that none of these girls was the jester he was looking for. He was certain that none of them were Rory, put it that way. With that in mind he let an arm slip around the redhead’s waist to pull her up against him, leaning down and stealing a kiss from her lips.
Meanwhile a willowy brunette had made her way over to Kevay after fighting with her friends over who got to flirt with him. Well, he was gorgeous and drunk and tormented, what wasn’t to like? She smiled as she slipped onto the stool Phoenix had just vacated, releasing a light sigh. “Looks like your friend is getting all the attention,” she commented, laughing softly.
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Nov 15, 2012 16:51:49 GMT -5
Indecent relations had gotten him into this mess so it stood to reason that they should also ease his pain a little; it was only fair, right? He couldn’t leave his perch on the stool, however, to go launch his charm offensive, so he was pretty relieved when the brunette made her way over to him. “Phoenix likes to think he gets all the attention, but he’s just the warm up act. I’m the main event.” Kevay flashed his most debonair grin to the girl, speaking as though he and Phoenix had known each other for all their lives and hadn’t just bumped into each other at the bar. Kevay needed a friend. “It looks like you have more taste than your friends. Maybe redheads attract one another?” He suggested, mischief in his eyes.
One glance over to Phoenix seemed to prove Kevay’s theory about redheads. The woman’s hands were already sneakily finding their way under his waistcoat as they kissed, the girl apparently not shy in the least. “You’re all talk.” She murmured against his lips, pulling back just enough to peer up at him. “I think you ought to prove yourself, otherwise the whole bar will know that you’re just full of hot air.” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Nov 16, 2012 14:44:54 GMT -5
“The main event, huh?” The brunette raised her eyebrows at Kevay and let her gaze wander over him, lingering on all the important (but likely not that decent) parts. “I think I should test that out myself,” she told him with a dirty little smile, utterly enamoured even before he flashed her that smile, which she promptly drowned in. “Hmm?” She seemed confused at the mention of redheads, laughing at her own distraction and glancing over her shoulder to look back at Phoenix and his new friend.
“Maybe they do,” she murmured. “Or maybe they think that if they rub each other hard enough they might start a fire,” she commented, looking amused and glancing back to Kevay. “But apparently blondes attract brunettes,” she said, leaning across to whisper some particularly raunchy things into his ear, one of which being that they should find somewhere to go before she did something very inappropriate at the bar.
Phoenix’s lips were far too busy kissing to make any kind of a response to Kevay a few feet away, and the rest of his senses were preoccupied with the touch and taste of the redhead, never mind what her hands were doing under his waistcoat. “I am not all talk,” he informed her, looking wounded and narrowing his eyes down at her playfully. “Prove myself? In front of all these people?” A grin spread across his face. “Why not?” He leant in for another kiss, one arm laced around her waist while his other hand was already busy up her skirts.
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Nov 17, 2012 6:33:44 GMT -5
“If they’re trying to set one another on fire we would do well to get out of this place.” Kevay grinned as he looked over at Phoenix and his new lady friend, though his attention soon returned to his own new lady friend. “Blondes attract everything.” He informed her, letting an arm snake around her waist before he lurched unsteadily to his feet. That girl was right about one thing; they needed to find somewhere to go. He doubted that the other patrons would be very happy with the uses Kevay had in mind for the bar. Luckily for him, the bar had a few rooms to rent. He doubted that they would be pleasant, and he would probably be eaten alive by fleas, but one of those would serve his purpose nicely.
“Get a room, Phoenix!” He called across the bar as he collected his key and a new bottle of whiskey, leading his brunette off out of the bar and around to his room. Booze and women; perfect escapism.
Phoenix’s redhead gasped a little as his hands moved inside her skirts, flashing him a dirty little smile. “I didn’t mean right here in front of all these people.” She laughed, busy trailing kisses down his neck. “I think you need to get us out of here before you get us barred.” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Nov 17, 2012 16:11:25 GMT -5
The brunette let out a musical laugh when Kevay staggered to his feet, soon joining him and waiting patiently for him to petition a room from the weary looking barman. “They do attract everything,” she agreed as he led her out of the bar, smirking to her friend and absently keeping Kevay on his feet while they meandered around to the bedroom he’d paid for. “You’ll be lucky if you get into the room with your clothes on, handsome,” she told him playfully.
“A room?” Phoenix called over his shoulder, looking up to try and figure out where his new companion had gone, just able to spot Kevay as he disappeared out of the door. His attention, however, was soon drawn back to the girl draped around him. “I think I know where we can go.” He grinned, gently nipping at her earlobe and reluctantly moving his hands to straighten up and head out of the bar after the brunette, whose skirts he could see swaying just in front of them. Well, get a room did not imply that Phoenix should get his own room. Besides, he was broke and he and Kevay were apparently friends now. And friends shared, dammit.
***
“Uurgh…” Phoenix awoke to the stale taste of whiskey in the back of his throat and a steady pounding in his head. Even then he knew that whatever he’d done last night had been a mistake. The light filtered in through a dirty window pane and a pair of thin, frayed curtains. The room stank of something Phoenix preferred not to think about (a faint mix of sex and vomit), and the mattress he was sprawled upon was lumpy and stuffed with straw. He’d be scratching for days thanks to that, he thought. Groaning, he flopped onto his side and threw an arm over his bed-mate, assuming it would be the voluptuous redhead from the night before. That, at least, had not been a mistake.
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Nov 17, 2012 17:29:15 GMT -5
The red head from last night might not have been a mistake but thinking that she was still in bed with him was. Kevay was too hung over to realise that he was very much naked in bed; he couldn’t think without his head feeling like it was about to explode. How much had he actually drink last night? He remembered Phoenix and the brunette, but everything from paying for the room was terribly fuzzy. He ached like it had been a good night though, so he wasn’t going to complain about that bit. The bit he was complaining about was the stale beer breath and the pounding headache and his stomach doing backflips.
“Ughhhh.” He groaned as the arm was thrown over him, flopping to lay on his side and nuzzle up to what he assumed to be the gorgeous brunette from the night before. The chest was flat though and muscled and decidedly unfeminine. “Huh wha’?” He frowned in confusion, cracking an eye open to peer up at Phoenix blearily. “What’re you doing in my bed, bed-stealer? Where’s my woman?” [/size][/font][/right]
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Post by Phoenix Garcia on Nov 18, 2012 14:46:59 GMT -5
Phoenix smirked as the ‘redhead’ turned to nuzzle up to him, his eyes still closed. He sighed, half asleep, fumbling for the thin blankets to draw them further over them. The voice, when it spoke, however, brought him right around. “Huh?” His eyes flickered open, the thief still looking groggy as he glanced down at Kevay. “Oh God no.” He groaned and turned away to lie on his back, covering his eyes with one hand as if not seeing it would make it all go away. “Never mind your woman, where’s my woman? And where’s my shirt?” He risked another glance over at Kevay. “And where are your clothes?”
Today was going to be a bad day; he could foresee this even now. Hangover raging, Phoenix forced himself to sit up, trying to pretend that he wasn’t able to feel the remnants of yesterday’s booze sloshing around in his stomach. “I don’t remember much from last night, but I reckon I’d know if we fucked, so at least there’s that,” he grumbled, squinting around the room. “Women are nowhere to be found though. Also I think we’ve been robbed.”
He flopped to lie down again, pulling the covers over his head. “Wake me up tomorrow. Tomorrow will be better. It has to be.”
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Post by Kevay Taylor on Nov 21, 2012 12:16:12 GMT -5
Finding out that he was in bed with Phoenix didn’t make Kevay move an inch, the cupid still nuzzled up close to the thief looking like he had no intentions of moving anywhere. If he moved he was pretty sure that his head would explode. “I dunno.” Kevay shrugged in reaction to both questions, looking away from Phoenix and closing his eyes again because the dim light in the room hurt. “Around, somewhere, probably. Maybe they stole them.” He shrugged, going quiet for a while before his comment actually sunk in.
“Shit! Maybe they stole them!” He lurched upright, his eyes wide with horror. He scrambled out of bed to stumble around the room. “It’s gone, everything is gone.” He pouted after scouring the place, flopping back down onto the edge of the bed. “They cleared me out. Money, clothes, shoes, everything. Hey, why’s your stuff still here?” Kevay grumbled as he spotted the pile of Phoenix’s clothing in the corner, folding his arms over his chest, not looking amused. So, this morning he was hung over and naked with no money, no clothes, no dignity and covered in little itchy bites from the straw filled mattress.
“I hate today.” [/size][/font][/right]
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