http://doctorlu.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] doctorlu.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] paixaorpg2006-04-11 01:56 am

Alcohol, My Permanent Accessory [Completed]

Characters: Lucrecia Crescent, some Turks if they feel like it, and pretty much anyone else who wants to have tavern shenanigans!
Content: Lu find a bar while fleeing Vincent and commences drinking herself into a less-terrified and much less-inhibited stupor.
Setting: The Cheap Prayer [F5]
Time: Saturday, any time after noon, really
Warnings: Alcohol, Swearing, Drunkenness...



After that whole tangle on the message board and even more people warning her in her journal, a very frightened Lucrecia practically ran from Vanaheim gate in the direction of Cid's shop--or what she thought was Cid's shop. Spending nearly an hour out in the freezing rain, lost and terrified that a psychopathic serial killer would come running up to her at any moment, Lucrecia ducked under the eve of a rather run-down bar outside an equally run-down shack that seemed to be some sort of entertainment establishment. She had a good eye, and after four years of training, could spot a bar a mile away. Or...tavern. Or whatever it was. In any case, she leaned tiredly on the bar, taking a moment to catch her breath, tasting a sharp metallic tang in her mouth as she swallowed hard before ordering, "Gimmie a glass of brandy, two shots of whiskey, vodka on the rocks, and a dark ale." This had been one HELL of a morning.

She was served by a rather shocked-looking denizen of Paixao, and she downed the two shots in rapid succession, digging through her messenger bag and pulling out enough gil to cover it all. Grabbing the ale in one hand and slipping the fingers of her other hand into her two glasses, pinching them together for easy transport, Lucrecia picked up the remaining liquor and walked inside the establishment, blinking in the darkness, so relieved to finally be safe and out of the wind that she could almost cry right there.

She sat in a booth off to the side, setting down all but the glass of vodka and drinking it as she shimmied back to lean against the wall, her short legs resting along the booth's cushion, her heels sticking out into the room. Finishing off the vodka, she started on the brandy, the skin on her back crawling until she had it pressed to the wooden wall, a position that allowed her to survey the room and watch the door warily all at once. Or at least from the same vantage.

Once her brandy was gone, she waved over a waiter, asking for more brandy and a burbon, if they had any. Lucrecia started in on her ale, sipping it slowly and trying to relax and warm up. She was fine; she was safe, away from that murderer Vincent, and she was inside, and her hangover was finally starting to ease. Beginning to feel relaxed for the first time that day, Lucrecia surveyed the bar's patrons and staff warily, always keeping an eye on the door, not wanting to be surprised by anyone. Most people looked strangely uniform, with blond hair and blue eyes, so she quickly began to tune them out, her eyes alert for anyone who looked even slightly different.

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