April 2018 Featured RPG
THE RECKLESS KIND is a modern supernatural site based on werecreatures and set in a fictionalized small town.
Within the territory, are 7 groups who protect the land. Recently, sacred grounds around the world are being destroyed & it looks like Somerset is next. Will you help stand against the evil or help win its victory?
06/23/2018:
Musical Badge Challenge starts this weekend! Check out the announcements!

Somerset, Pennsylvania
June 2018
FORECAST: Spring is in the air with showers throughout the week. The high is 75° with a low of 53°.
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 break my chains, Tag: Anise
Quote
33
Bartender
He/Him
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
DEJA
PRONOUNS: She/Her
TIMEZONE: Eastern
POSTS: 34
TRIGGERS: Mostly comfortable with anything
ALL MY LIFE
I have been fighting for this

TAG: @Anise Standing Bear

A number of psychology articles dictate that scents are processed differently in the brain and can have strong reactions with emotions and triggered memories. At least, that's what Raphael took away from it, but years had passed since he ready anything of the sort. In the weeks since his dinner with Callie Wilkes and her family, the young man from Louisiana had learned a great deal about his grandfather. He discovered another branch of the family tree, those who were still alive that is, and what kind of man old Bernard was in life.

Gaining those connections and answers did not fulfill the bartender as he thought it would. Instead, more questions arose. For instance, everyone he ever spoke to about his grandfather never had a bad thing to say. So why did his father, a man who preached of forgiveness and mercy every Wednesday and Sunday, cut off all contact? No one seemed to know enough to tell Raphael about the infamous fight that tore his family apart all those years ago.

Bernard's possessions were boxed and stored away. Raphael gained access to a few items from people who knew the older man personally. One item, in particular, was a bottle of cologne Bernard used to wear. The cousin who had it with them said they couldn't bring themselves to give it away or use it. While he wasn't so much for the older scents, Raphael decided it wouldn't hurt to give it a few dabs on his skin. See if he could use the smell to trigger any other memories of those who knew his grandpa. Figure out other angles to the man's life and how he drove his son away.

So far into the work shift at the Motor Lounge, he'd been unsuccessful. Then again, it was a busy night and no one had time to chit chat for long with the customers. It was a disappointment, but nothing he couldn't handle. Perhaps, he'd get lucky when the alcohol kicked in and people weren't guarded enough to keep little secrets to themselves. One thing he did like about the busy nights, time went by faster. Somehow four p.m. turned into ten p.m. and the crowd was starting to thin, most likely because no one wanted their ass chewed out by showing up hungover come Monday morning.

Raphael saw two of his co-workers check out for the night and he was left with one waitress and two cooks until they closed at midnight. He noticed a few who didn't look too bad, but definitely not sober enough to drive home. He started making a pot of coffee for those who'd need a clear head before he could let them leave. As it brewed, he stepped over to the end of the bar to check up on a few customers. "Another one or I've got some coffee about ready?"



Quote
31
Tattooist
She/Her/Hers
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
Cas
PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers
TIMEZONE: CST
POSTS: 46
TRIGGERS: Presently Occuring Rape, Vivid Animal Abuse, Vivid Prolonged Gore

seems i've been traveling with

eyes wide shut curtains closed

American bars smelled different than London pubs. Somewhere in the back of Anise’s mind she noticed that. There was no particular scent or flavor that she could put her finger on as the deciding difference. Whatever it was made her skin crawl. It left her eyes distant and dark as she stared off with the rim of the bottle pressed to her lower lip. The looks of people felt different. She felt different in them. In London, she was just another artsy hipster that spent too much money on cheap beer. In America. . .what was she other than a goddamn stereotype. If not intrinsically than just in the reflection of herself she saw in glasses of whiskey. A drunk Indian. Like her father and everyone she’d grown up around. Pity the poor drunk Indians because of statistics and socioeconomic status and white people bullshit and all the other stuff daddy always spit at. An angry nail tapped against the bottom of the bottle.

Why the hell was she back here again, why did she care about some family that may or may not even exist? It wouldn’t change anything.

Anise doubted there was any deep-rooted needing to belong. She’d never been that kind of girl. More than that, she’d never wanted to be. It was stupid. She was always doing stupid things like this at the spur of the minute. Go backpacking across America, Anise. Sick of that? Move to fucking London. Daddy died? Move back to Montana quitting the previously steady lifestyle. It was all so stupid she wanted to throw the bottle across the bar and watch it smash into the wall opposite her. But she didn’t, of course. The last time she’d done that she’d gotten banned from the cheapest happy hour in the West End. Which she couldn’t afford to happen in a town with not even a fourth of the options.

If it had been busy at the bar at any point than she hadn’t noticed. She hadn’t really even looked up at all until she realized someone was talking to her. The question she had to catch up followed by a light waft of male cologne. For a moment her nose wrinkled but she hid it behind her bottle. Somethings didn’t change no matter where someone lived. The cologne blokes wore always smelled annoying. But it was only a waft and it was gone almost as soon as she smelled it. A wrinkle still between her eyebrows, though, as she leaned her chin against her palm and frowned at the bartender. Instead of answering--“How good are you at mix requests?” If it had been packed she wouldn’t have bothered. But it wasn’t exactly hopping now and she sort of missed the drinks she was used to. Brits could hold their liquor.

for @Raphael Duval

469 words, Alvarez Kings lyrics

&

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RECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESS
Quote
33
Bartender
He/Him
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
DEJA
PRONOUNS: She/Her
TIMEZONE: Eastern
POSTS: 34
TRIGGERS: Mostly comfortable with anything
ALL MY LIFE
I have been fighting for this

TAG: @Anise Standing Bear

Raphael's brows rose with curiosity at the response from the woman on the other side of the bar. From a glance, she didn't look like she was in a mental state where she wanted to sober up any time soon. He fought the urge to use the damp towel hanging off his shoulder as he heard her story out like some cliche version of himself. It was difficult for a man like himself to remember that not everyone had a life story they wanted to share. Sometimes, sitting down and drinking away the thorny edges of their reality was what felt best.

The brunette looked to be out of sorts or lost in a way, he noted as he studied her eyes. The little wrinkle between her arms and the frown she wore so well. Such an expression on a lovely woman's face shouldn't feel like she'd gotten used to wearing that particular mask. Again, he reminded himself it wasn't his business and she'd likely get upset if he poked holes.

"I could give it a whirl," he replied with a lopsided grin. Born and raised by a preacher, he was given the curse of deep-seated humility. Confidence was usually key to gaining any sort of acceptance and respect, but too often Raphael discovered it was hard to let certain things go. He'd been a bartender for years and mixed any number of drinks, though it would be his luck that the one night he was cocky he messed something up. "Let's have it," Raphael smiled politely and stepped back to grab what was needed when she gave him the request.


Quote
31
Tattooist
She/Her/Hers
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
Cas
PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers
TIMEZONE: CST
POSTS: 46
TRIGGERS: Presently Occuring Rape, Vivid Animal Abuse, Vivid Prolonged Gore

seems i've been traveling with

eyes wide shut curtains closed

With her chin still in her hands Anise just cooly regarded the bartender in return. There might have been a curiosity in his eyes as he blinked at her. But if there was she ignored it. When it came to service staff she had a pretty pessimistic view of their thoughts. Only because she’d been one herself. A waitress for literally years and she dabbled a little in bartending before deciding she hated it. Diner waitresses could get away with being less appealing than a bartender could. Still, her experiences as such and remembering how much she hated most customers gave her the opinion that most service staff felt the same way. Genuine didn’t usually equate into her perception of them. There was a ghost of entertainment across her expression as he grinned at her. Objectively though indifferently, he was a good-looking man. Anise would bet money he didn’t hear no a lot and that he got a whole lot of tips. Bartending was probably a good deal for him. Too bad she basically flat out hated people like that.

None of it mattered though if he could mix a good drink. “Safe,” She responded as she sat up a little straighter in her seat. Her hand lowering from her chin in the same motion. A couple months in the States certainly hadn’t changed her speech patterns. It didn’t even occur to her that slang wouldn’t translate. Several drinks flew through her thoughts as she squeezed a strand of hair tightly between her fingers. “Vodka, gin, Bacardi, tequila, triple sec, raspberry liqueur--” At that one she paused and thought about it for a second. “Though you might not have that. Oh, well, any fruit liqueur should work.” Letting go of the strangled strand of hair so she could wave her hand a little. Which, for a normal person was. . . well, normal. But for Anise, it might as well be drunk enough to dance on the counter and punch someone in the face. “And lemon juice, a little sugar, and seltzer water on top.” The entertainment stronger in her eyes as her chin returned to her palm. It wasn’t that she picked a huge drink to be a pain. That had just been a normal mixed drink she’d gotten back in the west end because it was strong as hell. “It’s an Electric Ice Tea. Though I can’t even guess how many of any, I guess that’s where your professional experience comes into play.” Several beers also helped more than several words come out of her mouth at a time.

for @Raphael Duval

430 words, Alvarez Kings lyrics

&

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RECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESS
Quote
33
Bartender
He/Him
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
DEJA
PRONOUNS: She/Her
TIMEZONE: Eastern
POSTS: 34
TRIGGERS: Mostly comfortable with anything
ALL MY LIFE
I have been fighting for this

TAG: @Anise Standing Bear

Echoing the list of ingredients as she called them out, Raphael took each bottle from the shelf. He made a bit of a show twisting and flipping the bottles around they were poured in shot glasses. Not too familiar with this particular drink, he'd have t have all the ingredients out in front of him before determining amounts. A lot of them had standardized ratios given what they were combined with. "We've got a brewery in town that does some pretty impressive flavors," he said in response the raspberry liquor. That one he had to search for since it wasn't that popular with the current crowd.

"Ah," he sounded and plucked it from the shelf while gathering the rest on the second half of the list she named. "Yet no tea in sight," he chuckled and began to mix accordingly. A highball glass was filled with ice before he added the ingredients, careful to add them in a certain order otherwise it wouldn't taste much like anything other than alcohol poisoning ready to happen. "Always good for practice. You'll have to let me know if I got the amounts right."

The glass was garnished with a lemon and raspberry and topped with a yellow umbrella and straw. Raphael slid the drink over to the other woman. He turned to prepare another one in a different order, starting with adding the sugar on the rim of the glass after filling it with ice. The raspberry and lemon were poured in layers with the rest of the hard liquor mixing and the seltzer water on top as requested from before. It had more color than the first, turning the yellow-brown color into something a bit more colorful. Again, he topped it with a cute umbrella and straw.

"Which one do you prefer or what's closest to the Electric Ice Tea you're used to?"


Quote
31
Tattooist
She/Her/Hers
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
Cas
PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers
TIMEZONE: CST
POSTS: 46
TRIGGERS: Presently Occuring Rape, Vivid Animal Abuse, Vivid Prolonged Gore

seems i've been traveling with

eyes wide shut curtains closed

The small flourishes gained a wry smirk from Anise as she worked. Skin around her eyes crinkling a little as she blandly stared at him. “You’re from a big city,” She stated with a casual confidence. A sort of certainty that came from someone who worked with people constantly. It wasn’t just that the bartender was playing around with bottles. Any bartender anywhere could do that. But he moved with the same sort of theater she watched in bartenders in London. The type that knew how to play up to drunk tourists that wanted a show with their overpriced drinks. Anise closed her eyes as ran her fingers roughly through the back of her hair. Coarsely itching her fingertips along her scalp with a huff. Barely acknowledging his comment at first. Miso wasn’t used to the motel yet so she was trying to sleep on Anise’s head at night. So she was still a little stiff. “That’s a surprise.” Every time she turned there was something else she didn’t expect in a small town. “Probably not where I should go,” She added with a sharp laugh. While it was vague, there was a reason she was there. To just lose herself in drinking wouldn’t help her dissect and solve that reason.

I didn’t name it.” Even though he wasn’t looking at her she shrugged with the retort. Honestly, she’d prefer the alcohol poisoning. But she banished that thought. While she wasn’t ever going to stop drinking she also wouldn’t turn into her dad. He’d died because of this shit. The sparkle of entertainment was back as the glass was slid over to her. More because of the umbrella than anything. A pause as she considered it before just lifting the umbrella out and putting it aside. She was a hard liquor girl, such niceties were generally wasted on her. At first she’d expected him to go off towards his next order when she realized he was trying it out again. That was a rarity. A bartender who actually liked his job to some extent. She tipped the glass back enough to get a mouthful. Then chuckled softly after swallowing. Close. “This one looks more like it did,” She said as she tapped her finger next to the second one.

This time not taking out the umbrella as she sipped it. Anise nodded more to herself than him as she let the flavor settle. “Yeah, this one’s closer. But they both taste better than the real one. That club closed because everything there was shit and overpriced.” Anise had liked it because it was usually crowded and their shit cocktails were stupidly strong. People were too busy trying to fit into a club to pay attention to anyone around them. Besides, it had dim sum.

for @Raphael Duval

464 words, Alvarez Kings lyrics

&

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RECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESS
Quote
33
Bartender
He/Him
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
DEJA
PRONOUNS: She/Her
TIMEZONE: Eastern
POSTS: 34
TRIGGERS: Mostly comfortable with anything
ALL MY LIFE
I have been fighting for this

TAG: @Anise Standing Bear

Raphael watched as she drank from the second glass in front of her. He averted his eyes every so often to ensure she didn't take him as the type that stared a little too much while she tested which was better. He was prepared for another modest smile no matter the answer, making note of which one she liked; however, the compliment forced the creases of his lips to deepened into a real smile. "I get that. Probably why it's becoming a trend for people to buy their own liquor and drink at home or at parties than bars." He picked up a towel from the sink behind the bar and ran some water on it, then began to pick up after himself.

"If you're looking for quality, I'd definitely give this brewery a chance. Pay for the tour and get a couple of drinks out of it at the end," the bartender said over his shoulder. The items he used for the drink were placed gently in the sink and rinsed. "If you need a good excuse, let people know that tourism boosts the economy." The dirty towel was thrown over his shoulder and he looked up. "You're helping out the local economy," Raphael shrugged and smiled again.

It was the excuse he gave to people. One, because it was none of his business why they wanted to drink. Two, it really did help up the town's economy. If this customer decided to fill out the survey at the end and asked who recommended her, he may get the family who owned the brewery to let the Lounge snag a few bottles for discounted prices. As humble as he liked to think he was, Raphael wasn't one to shy away from opportunities when one sat in front of him.

"I need to sober up some of these others. Let me know when you've finished these and maybe we can work on a new concoction, hm?" He stepped away from the bar and prepared a tray of mugs with fresh coffee in them. Raphael knew all the regulars by now and which ones that benefited from a couple cups of coffee before they could drive or who needed to have their keys taken away. Speaking of which... Raphael sat the tray down and leaned over the counter to place a hand on Mr. Jones' hand that also held his keys. "Now, now, Jonesy. Can't leave after I made you your favorite, would you?" He released the man's hand as the older man struggled to balance himself.

With a sleight of hand, Raphael slipped the man's keys from his hand and shoved them in his pocket. His other hand placing a mug in front of him, then making a show of sprucing up the coffee. "On the house. Why don't you get comfortable there and I'll see if I can snag a few pieces of bread from the kitchen." Raphael stepped away and made his way back down to his previous customer. "You still good or you think of a new challenge for me?"


Quote
31
Tattooist
She/Her/Hers
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
Cas
PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers
TIMEZONE: CST
POSTS: 46
TRIGGERS: Presently Occuring Rape, Vivid Animal Abuse, Vivid Prolonged Gore

seems i've been traveling with

eyes wide shut curtains closed

When it came to looking at bartender to see what he was doing or looking at her cup of kill me juice, Anise picked the latter. So she didn’t even notice him look away--purposefully or not. At least her eyes were on the glass until she decided to respond to his bartender curiosity. One eye narrowing in recognition rather than irritation as he smiled at her. She knew it was a nice smile. That smile alone probably got him more tips than she’d made in five years. Man, she should have tried to be more charming as a waitress. Or hell, even now as a tattooist. Maybe she wouldn’t be driving a piece of shit now if she did. That thought made her smile softly to herself as she scoffed and shook her head. That wasn’t happening anytime soon. “Drinking alone in a motel’s a little too alcoholic leaning, even for me.” It wasn’t a hook. Just a noticeably bland statement of fact. At least drinking in a bar made her feel like a functional alcoholic. Sometimes bars even let people smoke. But she doubted this one did, it looked too modern.

Anise pursed her lips a little before pressing the rim to them again. “Mhm.” Was about as much of an agreement as she was going to give. It wasn’t a bad idea. But she’d have to talk to people. Worse than that, they’d talk to her. Then, because he’d been ‘nice’ enough to try two versions, she actually verbally responded. “If I have a free afternoon and want to day drink, I’ll check it out.” If she wanted to seem a little more like a tourist instead of a crazy person loitering in their town she might as well too tourist things. Just motioning loosely with her hand as he excused himself. He really didn’t have to try all that hard with her. She was already going to tip well. As someone who’d been in the food service industry for years she never skipped out on a tip. Should save the warmth for someone that needed it for their self-esteem. Though out of curiosity she turned in her seat a little. Just to idly watch as he brought out a tray of coffee. Small town bars. She shook her head to herself again. A couple bars in Colstrip and Butte had been like that. Mostly for the miners, but a second home for them. She’d gotten a whole lot of calls from bartenders asking to get her dad, when she’d been old enough to drive. Even more to come get her husband.

At first Anise had thought that the bartender was merely steadying the other man. It was only because she’d been actively watching and not drunk off her ass like the others that she’d noticed his hand had moved to his pocket. He’d definitely taken something. Eyebrows furrowing together as she watched him for a second before returning to her drink. As he asked if she needed anything she took a pause to sip her drink deeply. “That was a nifty trick.” In a casual voice that sounded cavalier and assured. But honestly, if she’d finished the drink before he’d done that she definitely would have missed it. Would have even if she’d decided to take that second to blink. Still, better to make other people think you were smarter than you actually were. If there were two things he'd take, it'd probably be either his wallet or his keys. But from what she could tell she doubted this bloke was a thief. "You take his keys?" That was a lot more subtle a way to take them than the bartenders she knew.

for @Raphael Duval

616 words, Alvarez Kings lyrics

&

--------------------
RECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESS
Quote
33
Bartender
He/Him
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
DEJA
PRONOUNS: She/Her
TIMEZONE: Eastern
POSTS: 34
TRIGGERS: Mostly comfortable with anything
ALL MY LIFE
I have been fighting for this

TAG: @Anise Standing Bear

The bartender met the woman's eyes with a chastened expression for having been caught in the act. Instead of receiving one of two responses he expected from the customer, he'd been taken aback by her sharp eye. Though, she didn't sound like she was about to lecture or threaten him. It didn't mean he was off the hook despite his good intentions.

Reluctantly, Raphael pulled out the set of keys from his pockets and held them low for her to see but no one else. Technically, he would get in trouble for the theft, since if he had the balls to take keys from a drunken patron what else could he slip by them? "His youngest gets off in ten minutes and knows to pick him up," he pocketed the keys again.

He turned the water on for the sink and drizzled some dish soap in once the water was warm enough to plug in. As the sink filled with bubbles and sanitizer, Raphael gentle moved dirty items and gently placed them inside. It was never too early to pick up and it made closing time go by quicker. He was more of a clean-as-you-go kind of guy but knew the rush threw people off.

"Heard he lost his wife and oldest son a few years back. Some accident or animal attack." He began to wash as he spoke in a low manner, not wanting his voice to carry over to Mr. Jones. "They say he hasn't gotten through the grief. His other son gets a lift to work and Jones sits on that bar stool until he passes out or the kid comes in to drive them home." Raphael spoke with sympathy, having no room to judge. After his father died, he went down a similar path and had yet to find his way back.

Quote
31
Tattooist
She/Her/Hers
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
Cas
PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers
TIMEZONE: CST
POSTS: 46
TRIGGERS: Presently Occuring Rape, Vivid Animal Abuse, Vivid Prolonged Gore

seems i've been traveling with

eyes wide shut curtains closed

It wasn’t news that Anise was deceptively observant. Born from the fact she basically made it her goal in life to exude harsh indifference. But she’d grown up in an environment where she had to always be on edge--spent most of her life having to know what was going on around her at any given moment. So it wasn’t that hard to miss. Though she hadn’t expected the same expression Nate used to give her when he snuck fruit snacks. Honestly, he didn’t have to look so scolded. Anise didn’t really care that much. It wasn’t any of her business what he did with his customers and if he wanted to swipe keys to make sure they couldn’t drive that wasn’t on her. A slightly lifted eyebrow as he rose the keys for her to see. She weighed telling him that it was alright and she wasn’t judging him. But that seemed indulgent for everyone involved, and also effort. So she just briefly nodded before sipping her drink.

Ultimately, she knew it was nice that he cared enough about his customers to take the keys in the first place. That wasn’t really how her brained worked anymore. Must be nice to be compassionate and shit. A soft snort escaping over the rim of her glass when he mentioned the man’s child was coming to pick him up. Funny he’d say that after she’d mused over the fact she’d do the same for her drunk daddy. She barely even remember how that had made her feel at the time. Probably tired and angry. Lips pursed as she drowned out those memories with the empty house she’d only recently sold and left. Because none of it should mean a damn thing anymore. Anise opened her mouth to snap that it wasn’t a child’s job to take care of their drunk ass parent. “It’s --” But she bit down on her tongue before more came out. A clearing of her throat to try and cover the word up. Liquor loosening up her a bit too much. It wasn’t her fucking business any more than him swiping the keys were. Should just shut her mouth and keep her head down. Though if that was the case she should probably stop sipping the drink too. Which she wasn’t.

The forcefully casual expression on Anise’s face turned carelessly intent at the bartender’s next low words. “What?” Rim left hovering half an inch from her mouth. She hadn’t expected that. Her jaw clenched painfully. Slowly the glass was lowered back to the counter. Without meaning to she looked back over her shoulder at the man--Jones--fumbling at the table. Now that she knew that she saw the similarity. She’d been the same way after the custody finalized. Just staying with Annabelle until it was either leave or kill herself. It wasn’t her life that the bartender was talking about. But she didn’t like the pained sympathy of a stranger. She didn’t like the way he said the man hadn’t gotten through the grief. “A parent never gets over the loss of a child,” She snapped without even thinking about her words. Not really angry at the bartender as she was at the idea of grief. “You never stop being a parent. They’re not just a child they’re your world. The entire reason for everything you survived. The most important job and passion you’re ever given. Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean that stops. It just means you lost the best parts of you.” At the word lost Anise’s throat finally started to close. Immediately she straightened--trying to make it look like an accident as she knocked over one of the glasses with the back of her knuckles.

Already reaching to open her bag as it splashed and rolled off the counter to smash into the floor. “Sorry,” She forced out. Quick to duck down into her bag to find her wallet. Eager for him to look towards her mess rather than at her. “I’ll pay for the glass.” While threatening herself that if that burning turned to real tears she would gouge out her own eyes then and there. Her grief wasn’t for the public anymore like that man Jones.

for @Raphael Duval

702 words, Alvarez Kings lyrics

&

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RECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESS
Quote
33
Bartender
He/Him
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
DEJA
PRONOUNS: She/Her
TIMEZONE: Eastern
POSTS: 34
TRIGGERS: Mostly comfortable with anything
ALL MY LIFE
I have been fighting for this

TAG: @Anise Standing Bear

Raphael was not prepared for the onslaught of words that followed and it took a long moment to reviews what he'd said to understand where exactly their conversation forked. The bartender paused in his washing a glass to stare at the woman, something familiar dawning on him. He'd seen the pain in others before and witnessed his father counsel them in group meetings the church hosted once a week. He didn't know her story, but he felt like for the first time since they spoke that this was a glimpse of the real her.

It was gone within a blink of an eye. In that brief moment of time, the whole world had come to a full stop and now was moving on around him. Raphael thought of his own daughter, the one he'd left behind for a better chance at life. He thought of the pain he still experienced when he went searching for his father after Hurricane Katrina, what he'd found instead. The bartender watched in slow motion as the glass tipped over, splashed over the counter, and then rolled to the floor. A few eyes landed on them and he sat the glass he was cleaning down in the sink.

"Don't worry about it," Raphael offered up as he took a washcloth to the counter and then walked away to grab the broom and dustpan. A yellow sign was placed just on the outside of the spill and he knelt to clean up the mess. He wanted to say something, anything really, but knew that once a chord was struck it wasn't going to do either of them any good. He decided to give her some time. Heightened emotions, like grief and anger, were difficult to come down from once someone pressed that button. Mixed with alcohol and it was a lethal combination. Fortunately for them, the only casualty was a broken glass.

"Good as new." He stood with the dustpan in hand and a grin on his face. "I'd watch your step, though." Raphael walked away again to throw away the glass and wash his hands. When he returned, he continued with washing dishes as if nothing had happened. "You know what would make that drink taste even better? A piece of cheesecake. We have some left over in the back. If it doesn't get eaten it'll just be thrown out tomorrow. What do you say?"


Quote
31
Tattooist
She/Her/Hers
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
Cas
PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers
TIMEZONE: CST
POSTS: 46
TRIGGERS: Presently Occuring Rape, Vivid Animal Abuse, Vivid Prolonged Gore

seems i've been traveling with

eyes wide shut curtains closed

Even ducked down practically inside of her backpack Anise felt eyes. The brief stare of the bartender. Curious eyes of the other patrons. She hated people staring at her like they were trying to see her. She hated feeling seen. It made her fingers tremble as she dug them into the fabric of her backpack and commanded them to stop. With nothing else in her life she had to at least survive. The fact that Nate wasn’t dead was the only thing that kept Anise going after all. If she’d lost him somehow like that man had lost his--well, she would have taken Nate Sr.’s .45 and stuck it right into her mouth. Just the pain of not being able to see him burned in her chest like an inferno. It threatened her with uncontrollable agony and at the end of the day she was still her daddy’s girl. All the anguish under her skin she turned into resentment. That resentment she turned into fury. So she bit into her tongue until she tasted blood and her eyes stopped burning. Otherwise she’d throw the chair she was sitting on right into that shelf of alcohols. Like she’d done at least five times before. But she couldn’t afford that now. London was one thing. In America she had a criminal record and would get in serious trouble.

But her mind kept racing. A million words spinning through her thoughts all screaming how much she missed him and hated everything else. Entirely lacking any real means of coping except for sheer force of will. The bright yellow thankfully brought Anise back into the present. If there was anything she had mastered it was a poker face in spite of wanting to scream. It just wasn’t as good at it when it came to her son. Soon people returned to their own busy. Even more relieved now that there had been two drinks. “Sorry,” She mumbled again when he came back. Roughly rubbed her knuckles against her lips as was a habit of hers when she was uncomfortable. Anise wasn’t the type to carry a mirror with her nor was she the type to excuse herself to ‘powder her nose’. So she had no idea if her eyes looked wet or not. Maybe she could cover if they were by glaring. Though that was a failure too as she awkwardly locked her eyes onto the counter. “Hiking boots.” If they could walk through a stream all right then she’d be able to walk over a wet floor. But there was apprehension in her voice. A quick glance up to see if she could spot pity. He just went back to washing dishes.

The coppery taste in her mouth was a good reminder to remain chill. Though he was a bartender so was probably a bit more astute than that. Anise’s heart jumped a little when he started to talk again. There went her hope of them just fading into silence until she slinked off with her tail between her legs. Her expression softened from surprise as he offered cheesecake. It was usually not the first thing that people assumed about Anise, but she had a weakness for sugars and carbs. Especially when mixed together in cake form. “S--” She sucked on her tongue as she considered her next word. The pressure stung where she’d bitten through but it helped keep her rational. “Sure.” Then she tensely slapped a ten onto the counter. “For the glass.” She didn’t really know how much they cost but that was what she was going to guess.

for @Raphael Duval

599 words, Alvarez Kings lyrics

&

--------------------
RECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESSRECKLESS
Quote
33
Bartender
He/Him
HUMAN
Nomad
Protected
DEJA
PRONOUNS: She/Her
TIMEZONE: Eastern
POSTS: 34
TRIGGERS: Mostly comfortable with anything
ALL MY LIFE
I have been fighting for this

TAG: @Anise Standing Bear

Raphael couldn't say if his offer of cheesecake would work. For whatever reason, the female patron opposite of him had endured something that left her closed off. He knew that wasn't the right word for it, but the bartender didn't go around assuming things about people and broken wasn't a way to describe people upon a first meeting. He didn't think she would agree to it. Probably just as surprised by the answer if not more.

"I'll go whip you up something," he smiled and washed his hands. Raphael was in the process of drying them on his way to the kitchen area. Two slices were placed on a large plate, one plain and the other drizzled with the cheery topping. There was no telling what it would taste like with the drink if he were honest. It might make things over-the-top sweet or just clash in a bitter taste all the way down.

The plate was brought out seven minutes later and placed in front of the woman with some silverware wrapped in a napkin. Raphael took the money she offered him earlier and put it in the register with a note added about the broken glass. A few other last-minute customers needed to be taken care of on their way out the door. Mr. Jones noticed his son had arrived to pick them up. The boy looked exhausted as he helped his father walk outside. One of the waitresses followed behind them with a plastic bag and a to-go drink.

A late dinner for the boy who'd probably worked through his lunch again to get off on time. Raphael cleaned up in the spot where Jones sat, added the cash to the register again, and then headed back to finish up the dishes. "What do you think? Too little, too much, just right?"


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sknned by vanessa of shine and caution