http://take-theride.livejournal.com/ (
take-theride.livejournal.com) wrote in
capeandcowllogs2009-11-08 01:42 am
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OPEN
WHO: Raoul Duke, Selina Kyle, and YOU!
WHERE: A cheap bar.
WHEN: Saturday Night
WARNINGS: PROBABLY MANY.
SUMMARY: A stranger walks into a bar.
FORMAT: Whichever.
It was late, the good people of the city where at home, preparing for bed. The rest of them were downtown, looking for a fix... whatever their fix is.
Raoul Duke sat inside a dimly lit bar, tracing scratches and carvings in the wooden bar top with a finger. He hadn't been there long, but he'd already downed a beer and a half, his eyes shifting around the bar for any strange happenings, any inspiration. But for what? Duke hadn't typed one sentence that wasn't about some fuck-awful sports game since getting his job, and he was afraid he was loosing his touch.
The bar door opened, Duke glanced back. No one he recognized, not that he was expecting to. Probably another local.
WHERE: A cheap bar.
WHEN: Saturday Night
WARNINGS: PROBABLY MANY.
SUMMARY: A stranger walks into a bar.
FORMAT: Whichever.
It was late, the good people of the city where at home, preparing for bed. The rest of them were downtown, looking for a fix... whatever their fix is.
Raoul Duke sat inside a dimly lit bar, tracing scratches and carvings in the wooden bar top with a finger. He hadn't been there long, but he'd already downed a beer and a half, his eyes shifting around the bar for any strange happenings, any inspiration. But for what? Duke hadn't typed one sentence that wasn't about some fuck-awful sports game since getting his job, and he was afraid he was loosing his touch.
The bar door opened, Duke glanced back. No one he recognized, not that he was expecting to. Probably another local.
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A random bar, a stool, and a glass of scotch. Could have been anywhere. But just being around people, faceless and barely tolerable, felt good again.
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...He'd rather be the friendly serial rapist, after all.
He looked up from his beer to see the woman and her scotch. People in this town didn't really start up conversation, so he figured he'd start with the most obvious question.
"Is it still crazy out there?"
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He sipped at his beer before reaching in his pocket for a new cigarette. "You know what I mean, man."
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And then a touch quieter, so the other patrons didn't hear: "You're another one of the imPorted, then?"
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He squinted, as long as his nostrils weren't flaring, she might believe him.
"Yes."
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She wasn't too fond of the press these days.
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He motioned for the bartender to bring him another beer. "I've published a few novels, if that makes it any better. What do you do?"
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"Is that standard, here?"
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Looking around the bar, she appreciated the dim light and the atmosphere that encouraged being left alone. Somewhat. She sat on a stool, wondering what it would take for her to get a drink.
As she waited for the bartender, hoping she wouldn't get carded, she overheard a snatch of conversation from the couple close by.
"I think it means she doesn't always like people telling her what she can and can't do," popped out of Suzi's mouth.
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She sighed to herself, "It sucks to realize you've been messed with."
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"So while we're on the subject, what's a kid like you doing in a bar?"
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