Welcome to Gaia! ::

Irinei had found, after a long week of harrowing near-death experiences with crazy White Mooners, that the best place to get drunk was a cheap-a** hipster bar downtown. The Sea... something. Everything was very kitsch, very theme, and for the coming holiday festooned with pumpkins that had suffered mermaids and pirates being carved into it. The usual electric lights had been replaced with laughing skulls, and rather than the interesting indie bands he'd come to expect, there was some sort of Halloween-themed karaoke going on.

The third ******** time he heard a drunk coed singing some song about red, black, and slimy green, he got up from his comfortable chair about the middle of the bar and took his drink down to the end. On a Wednesday night at eleven, there were any number of empty bar stools; he didn't anticipate having trouble relocating if he needed to. There was another young man there, dark hair back in neatly-kept dreadlocks; Irinei had watched him order two pints of piss-colored Bud Light so far, and figured there were two reasons the man might there. First, and hopefully true: he was looking to ******** or be ********, Irinei didn't pretend to know. Second, he had something he wanted to forget. Rather more boring, but ah well.

He leaned onto the bar near, but not too oppressively near, the young man. His drink--whisky, on the rocks--looked much smaller in this context. Whatever, he preferred the taste, and he could afford it. "How far down to the tattoos go," he asked, gesturing lazily at the other's sleeve.