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Post by casey elijah archer on Jun 22, 2013 3:28:44 GMT -5
The whole day had been some kind of train wreck, as far as Krasner was concerned. He had slept poorly, the consequence of his pot supply running out and then his night of tossing and turning was followed by endless nightmares at the barn. One of his three students in the morning had gotten tossed off her horse and knocked her head on a fence post, which meant a hospital call and an ambulance and a parent screaming at him, even though both Krasner and the student insisted it wasn't anyone's fault, just a horse who spooked and tossed his rider, nothing that was entirely unusual at a barn. But still, the parent had screamed and threatened lawsuits and stormed out, leaving Krasner with a nightmarish headache and the strong desire to punch out the next person who looked at him funny.
But he managed to make it through another lesson and then through the training session with his own trainer that dragged on endlessly when his horse threw a shoe and then snapped at him when he was trying to get her untacked and goddamn today was the worst. By the time he was packing his bag up for the train ride back to his apartment, Krasner had been reduced to growled one word answers at everyone who spoke to him. Even the barn manager, a scrawny guy who had a knack for getting Krasner to grin and laugh even when everything in him wanted to just grouch around only got a growled goodnight when he tried to talk Krasner into joining him and a few of the rest of the staff for a few drinks at the local bar. Krasner needed a drink, sure, but he didn't want to drink with friends, just wanted to get smashed and then go home and crawl into bed, where his friends, who he loved but couldn't take just now, weren't trying to prod him out of his bad mood. Maybe it was wallowing but he didn't care. He was a grown ass man, he could do what he wanted.
Soon as he made it home, it was just a quick shower and a change of clothes into something less barn-related. There was a voicemail on his phone when he got out of the shower but when he checked the missed calls, it showed that the message was from Georgia, his late partner's mother, which meant it was a call he just wasn't prepared to take today. Not the day for it. Instead he was off to the bar, grumbling to himself when the elevator in his building took too long. Soon as he was in the bar, he ordered a whiskey, neat, and then a second one after that. A third was in his hand after not too long and he glared down at the glass, heaving a long sigh and then shaking his head and taking another sip of the alcohol before setting the glass back down. Fuck today. Just fuck it.
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Post by anacunningham on Jun 23, 2013 18:20:07 GMT -5
 I AM COLD[/B][/size][/font][/size] •• T O O C O O L • T O C A L L • Y O U ••[/i] FAR TOO STONED TO LEAVE MY BED- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“You’ve got those tired eyes,” Anastasia hummed. “All the time!” She continued. She twirled as she entered her favorite bar. She had managed to get quite tipsy at work, a wonderful combination of already drunk gamblers, too busy to check their bill, and a hectic bar staff too busy to notice her sneaking some for herself. These stars aligned enabling Ana to order drinks on behalf of patrons, and then sneak back the empties. This kept her wallet free for more drinks later at the bar. She waved as she walked in. The bartender smirked at her, though his eyes showed a slight bit of concern for the obviously tipsy girl. She was walking in a straight line, not even stumbling, so how, with one glance, did he know she was tipsy? She was smiling. It was the most obvious clue. “You need someone, to take you, to bedddd…” she finished her humming singing as she walked to the bar. And there, sitting at the bar, in her stool was some random guy. This was not acceptable.
As a kid, Anastasia had never cared when someone had claimed a seat or anything like that as ‘there’s’. She would laugh at them, call them a name and tell them to bugger off. So what made this different? The context of a few days might help. Anastasia lived in a one bedroom apartment with another girl, Ana lived in the living room. Sooo, it was technically illegal to have her there, the lease was under her roommates name. A recent message had alerted them that there was going to be a flat inspection for safety reasons. Unfortunately this meant Anastasia had to pretty much hide her existence from the flat. It wasn’t as simple as just moving all her stuff into her friend’s room but it was erasing her existence. It was, slightly disconcerting. Then, it only just got worse. She had to work a fourteen hour shift at work. It wasn’t exactly something she wanted, but it wasn’t really something she could afford to refuse. You see, Anastasia wasn’t entirely a legal citizen of these United States. She had traveled her as a tourist, but that had only earned her a few months in the states. So she applied for a student visa. But slowly. She was aware she wouldn’t get one and be able to work as much as she did. Thus, she made sure to take the steps as slowly as possible so they couldn’t technically call her an alien, but she wasn’t exactly legal either. Her work knew this, which is why they paid her in cash every month and she took the worst shifts when they asked her. It was a mutually beneficial relationship. Kind of. They didn’t ask questions and she didn’t complain. So in the past few weeks she had been forced to erase herself and hide herself, as well as admit that she didn’t belong her. So fuck this guy, fuck this guy sitting in her stool. They could take her ‘room’, they could take her legality but they could not take her god damn bar.
“Oi. You’re in my seat,” she said, her eyes narrowing. She wore part of her work uniform, getting out of as much of it as possible, but some of it remained. She wore tight shorts that clung to her. Her own white tshirt lay beneath while her standard white button down shirt went over it. The uniform in general was shamelessly tight. She knew that it was all about showing off her body, and so be it. Everyone sold something out for a job. Waitresses, customer service sold their personalities, blue collar workers sold their strength, others sold their penance for monotonous tasks. Anastasia had a certain respect for strippers, at least they admitted it shamelessly. But here Anastasia was, a hand on her hip, hip cocked as she looked at the man.
“I said, yur in, mai fucking seat,” she said. The bartender looked nervously at the man. “I’m sorry about her, she’s a bit drunk,” he said and started to come around the bar, hoping to steer Ana away.
“I’m exactly as drunk as I need ta be,” she said and held her hand up, stopping the bartender in his tracks. “So what’ve ya got ta say?” She glared at Krasner.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -• I'LL WRITE THIS SONG TO WIN YOUR KISS BUT •STAY ASLEEP INSTEAD[/b][/size][/font] 725 WORDS | Ceeee | outfit!
LYRICS BY SAY ANYTHING | TEMPLATE BY ARRO
SORRY IT'S SO LONG. I got carried away xD obviously replies need not be this long
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Post by casey elijah archer on Jun 27, 2013 4:32:11 GMT -5
Krasner sat, sipping his alcohol and cursing everything in the world. The bartender tried to make a little conversation but a hostile glare from Krasner and a few growled replies had the guy shrugging and shaking his head, mumbling something annoyed under his breath as he moved to the other side of the bar to deal with someone in less of a foul mood. Frankly, Krasner would be happiest if everyone just left him alone to stew in his shit mood without giving him problems for it. Talking about his feelings wasn't why he came to the bar today. He just wanted some peace and quiet while he slowly crawled right into a bottle until he felt no more pain, at least for the evening.
So of course, all of a sudden, just as Krasner was starting to feel the fuzzed out warm feeling in his limbs that signaled the beginning of the alcohol taking effect, he suddenly heard some woman's voice, complaining about someone being in her seat. Heaving a long sigh, he glanced at the seats on either side of him, both empty, so she wasn't talking to anyone near him. He took a last gulp of his drink, draining the glass before setting it back down on the bar and turning to look at the woman. She was pretty, her clothes tight enough to show off every curve and were Krasner less irritated by her complaints about his being in her seat, he'd probably appreciate the view more than he was presently. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed slightly as he eyed her, quiet for a moment. The bartender's words were completely ignored and he shook his head very slowly.
"Find a different seat." He finally growled out, gesturing at the empty seat next to him. "Like this one. I'm not moving." Not that he cared about this particular seat but he had gotten there first and he wasn't very well going to move seats just because some woman was complaining at him. That said, he turned back to the bartender, pushing his glass towards him and taping his index and middle finger against the bar. "Whiskey, neat, quick." The bartender took the glass and hurried off to pour Krasner another drink. Meanwhile, he paused a moment before turning back to peer at the woman, curious despite his bad mood. "You gonna sit or just stand there all night?" He finally said before turning back just in time to pay the bartender as he delivered the ordered drink.
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Post by anacunningham on Jul 1, 2013 18:03:26 GMT -5
I AM COLD [/B][/size][/font][/size] •• T O O C O O L • T O C A L L • Y O U ••[/i] FAR TOO STONED TO LEAVE MY BED- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
When he turned, Ana was pleasantly surprised to find an attractive man looking back at her. Now that she could see his face she took the rest of him into account. He seemed built, but not overly so, and taller than her, which was always a plus. And about as dark as she was pale. Sexy ice cream combinations spun through her mind and for a second she felt bad about being a bitch to this hot guy and ruining a potential engagement. But she only felt bad for a second, if anything that. Sometimes emotion won over all else, and regret was something she tried to deal with as little as possible.
‘Find a different seat’, yeah as if it was so simple. Everything had been piling up to strip her identity away. She had worked damn hard to have something for herself, something that was hers. New York City was her place, her things were hers. But she was illegal, so she had to hide everything, pretend she was nothing. Fuck this week. It was her god damn seat. Being a lush, being a fairly constant fixture in the bar was a part of her life. Obviously not the best aspect or most healthy part of her personality, but god dammit it was there. She stood there, just…unsure of what to do. He gestured to the seat next to her, just like it was any other chair. He was just as stubborn as her, probably for the same reasons, probably because it was a shitty day and a shitty week and sometimes you just couldn’t yield to anyone.
But sometimes you had to. This week had taught her that much. She let out a heavy breath and sat down next to Krasner. She turned to him, rubbing the silly knit cap that adorned her head, taking it off and running a hand through her hair before tugging it back on. She turned to him, her eyes narrowed. “Maybe I really needed the seat.” She said, and there was maybe a bit of pain in her eyes, something that bubbled just barely below the surface. But she shrugged it off. “Or maybe yur a bit of a twat, either way,” she muttered as she got the bartender’s attention. To be fair, he was probably in just as bad as mood as she was. He probably had a bad day as well. Oh well. Fuck him.
“Double rum and coke,” she ordered. The bartender gave her a tense smile. “Maybe you’ve had enough for the night?” he said gently. Ana rolled her eyes at him. “Arrrgg motherfucker.” She said in her best pirate impression.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -• I'LL WRITE THIS SONG TO WIN YOUR KISS BUT •STAY ASLEEP INSTEAD[/b][/size][/font] 725 WORDS | Ceeee | outfit!
LYRICS BY SAY ANYTHING | TEMPLATE BY ARRO
SORRY IT'S SO LONG. I got carried away xD obviously replies need not be this long
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Post by casey elijah archer on Jul 9, 2013 9:49:46 GMT -5
Even if the girl standing there, obviously belligerently drunk, was cute, Krasner was in no mood for being scolded or snapped at or otherwise harassed by someone. It had already been too much of a day and he didn't need more of the same painful shit. Just drink till he couldn't think straight, didn't remember the voicemail waiting for him at home or the shouting at the barn. Hunching his shoulders a bit, he shot her a sidelong glance as she sat next to him. If only he wasn't in such a piss poor mood, the whiskey only just beginning to take effect. "Should have gotten here earlier then." He growled out. But the hint of pain in her expression made Krasner relent, just a bit and he sighed, shoulder slumping down from the tense, hunched position they'd been in before.
"Don't whine, it's annoying." His eyes glanced back ahead as the bartender came over, not willing to let the insult slide entirely but not about to pick a fight over some drunk girl who'd obviously had some kind of shit night drunkenly calling him a name. For gods sake, he was a grown ass man, not a child about to pick fights over nothing. The bartender's reluctance got another sigh and Krasner shook his head, glancing up at the guy. "Look man, just give her a drink." Another glance at her, then a shrug of his shoulder. "On my tab, whatever, I'll pour her into a cab after if it'll make you feel better but give the girl a drink."
Hell, it wasn't like Krasner didn't have the money to spare. Might as well buy the girl a drink, see if it'd make her let up on the insults and whining about the seat. Krasner already had enough of that and it hadn't even been that much. "You. Sit there, drink your drink and don't complain anymore, we clear?" Krasner asked her before knocking back the remainder of his drink, tapping his fingers on the bar as he caught the bartender's eye. "Another. Little more this time, fuck it. Day like today fucking needs that shit."
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Post by anacunningham on Jul 12, 2013 8:20:47 GMT -5
She opened her mouth as he told her not to whine, simply cutting her off. She was tempted to simply spout out ‘you’re annoying’ but even drunk she realized it wasn’t exactly her best comeback. She knew her own tolerance, she probably wasn’t as bad as she seemed, but even the simple excuse of being a bit drunk enabled her brain to decide to fuck off, creating a placebo effect. She staved off replying to his statement until she had something more intelligent to say. She smirked slightly as he convinced the bartender to give her a drink.
“Pour me into a cab…” she tiled her head slightly. “Sounds like a perfume, or a cocktail. Yeah a cocktail! Something stupid and fruity,” she turned to the bartender. “Fuck the double rum and coke, I want a ‘pour me into a cab’.” She smiled at him. The bartender looked at her with a confused expression as if to remind her that it wasn’t actually a drink. “Good lord, figure it out, that one looks yellow,” she said and pointed to a random bottle. “And dot it with some black stuff, and put something nonalcoholic in it? Yeah, something not alcohol would be good in it.” The bartender continued to look at her until she waved her hand, gesturing that the bartender should make her drink. Soon the new drink was sitting in front of her. She took the cup and sniffed it before taking a small sip. She made a face of approval and looked over at Krasner. “Want to taste a sip of your invention?”
She frowned at him as he ordered her about. “Crystal,” she said snarly. But she stayed silent, it had been a long day and she wasn’t sure how much longer she wanted to keep up the sarcastic bitchyness, it was a lot of work after all. Sometimes it was nice to just, relax, not have to think. She didn’t appreciate the ordering about, but it did take all the thinking out if it.
“Ha,” she said and raised her glass. “I think you’ve actually just said the one thing I can agree with,” she smiled at him, an actual genuine smile.
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Post by casey elijah archer on Jul 28, 2013 11:39:30 GMT -5
It was only this girls very good fortune that, though Krasner was in a piss poor mood, the couple of drinks he'd had had taken off that sharp angry edge and he didn't feel as inclined towards violence as he had a short hour before. No, he just wanted to be left alone to brood and get disgustingly drunk but... This he could handle. The key was just keeping his cool. He peered down at the offered drink, raising a skeptical eyebrow just as the bartender delivered his new drink. "Nah. I don't like the sweet, sugary crap." Blunt, to the point.
Before he could see her frown, Krasner was turning back to stare down into his drink, swirling it a bit in the glass before taking a long sip. The burn got a quiet sigh and he closed his eyes just a moment, shoulders sloping down. Alcohol was slowly taking effect and the slight fuzziness in his senses made him not quite as quick to grouch as he turned to look at the girl and her raised glass. A momentary pause and then he was lifting his glass and tapping it against hers. "What's you trauma?" He asked, voice colored with mild interest as he set the glass back down.
Not that he made a habit of chatting up strangers but the girl was harmless and maybe good for some entertainment and even as he was sitting there, brooding about his shit week and his shit month and his shit year and his shit life, he couldn't help but notice she was a pretty face, worth more than a few moment's attention. Alaistair flashed across his mind but... He wasn't going to think about it. But the faint frown in the corners of his mouth and the slight crease in his brow gave away the fact that perhaps all was not well. Well, if the sitting there and brooding over endless drinks didn't give it away already. "At least... Well, misery loves company, as they say." He said with a small shrug.
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Post by anacunningham on Aug 3, 2013 17:13:23 GMT -5
Ana had always had this irrational paranoid fear. It wasn’t something that gone away with age, it had just hid itself. She always felt like she was ‘bothering’ people, like she was ‘that’ friend that no one particularly liked, but was just too polite to tell her. It was what had frozen her during the majority of her teenage years. Sure she would chat to someone if they talked to her, but the thought of going up to someone, speaking to them, starting the conversation…well why would they want to hear what she had to say anyways? Obviously being drunk helped, but not always. She had thought she was annoying him, she was a few phrases away from just leaving him alone, but then he actually asked her.
“I…” she turned to him, starting the sentence. She considered telling him everything, that she was an illegal immigrant who could easily be shipped back home. Sure the UK was a big place, but there was the sense of terror every time she saw someone from the back who looked almost like someone from Dundee. At least here it was practically impossibly. She bit her lip. Not even her flatmate knew about her legality status, subletting was just illegal anyways so hiding her existence was just per norm. “I’m moving…” she finished lamely. “It just, reminds me of the past you know. Nostalgia isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. And well, it’s just kinda shit how just a few hours of packing can make it seem like I was never there.” She frowned. She managed to keep the gory details while still at least expressing some of her shittastic day. “And work is giving me half a million shifts,” she topped off. She knew double shifts, triple shifts sucked, but she couldn’t quit, she just had to put up with their shit.
She tilted her head as she saw him frown. Something was obviously weighing heavily on his mind. She bit her lip, taking another drink. Sure it was sugary but god help her if it didn’t have a kick to it. “Too true.” She paused. “So, what’s your damage then?”
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