It had been a long week. On top of regularly scheduled maintenance appointments, there had been a few 'emergencies,' during random times of the day and night. She didn't mind, but her boyfriend did. Any time she had to cancel or meet him later than planned, Ross never heard enough about his insecurities and potential jealousies. It was good that the week was coming to an end, mostly because he was going out of town for business. It was perfect timing, as always. Just as Ross was getting fed up with his clingy attitude, he had to leave town for work and then things always seemed to subside for a while. A week, sometimes two, before he was back at it again. That week or two was some of the best times they had together, but after a while, Ross wasn't sad she wouldn't see him for four or five days. Deep down there was always sense of relief instead of anything else.
The week had been so long that she hadn't even seen her roommate. Come to think of it, Ross hadn't seen much of him in a while, but she figured he must be working because every month he paid his fair share of the rent and utilities, and things worked out fine. In a lot of ways. Zar was almost the perfect roommate, which didn't help her jealous boyfriend a bit. There was always the over-looming fear that something was going on between the two of them. What woman would let a guy move in with her that wasn't her boyfriend? Almost always started that argument. Or the subtle hint that they should move in together time and time again, pushing Zar out. Ross wasn't having any of it; not because there was something going on, but because Zar paid his rent, he respected when she was laying her head down for some quick hours of z's and Ross didn't want to live with Travis. While they had been 'on' for about nine months now, the last few months had been trying.
Ross had a stop to make before she popped back to the apartment; one that she had booked a month ago. It needed to be on a Friday night, only because she could pawn a couple jobs off on another person who worked for the company because they were always looking for some extra jobs for that extra pay. And since he wasn't on call on the weekends like she was, Friday was the absolute last day that he could get any hours, and over time in. So far nothing had come across to her, but the night was still young. After her appointment which resulted in a nostril piercing (something Travis may or may not like), Ross decided that she had seen enough of her overflowing laundry basket in the corner of her room and that the mountain had to be taken care of.
“Zar?” Ross called as she entered the apartment, only because there was a piece of mail for the guy in their mailbox. Not getting a reply, she tossed it on the table which was more or less his unspoken 'side.' There wasn't really sides, because they rarely saw the other, but Ross was particular to one side, over the other. Junk mail was tossed in the basket in the kitchen, while bills were opened and set aside for her to pay. Tomorrow. Ross bounced into the shower to change, sporting something a little more comfortable and in some aspects revealing, but it was summer, Zar wasn't around (not that she cared) and it was comfortable. After wearing jeans, a tank and some sort of button down as to not offend the client base with all her art work, Ross wanted to show it off. Even if it was just for her viewing pleasure.
The basket was grabbed with both hands, then it found a hip before she grabbed a Ziploc bag of change and tossed it in the basket. She looked at her bed, then groaned. Ross set the basket on the floor and yanked the sheets off, then tossed those in to be washed too. Finally, Ross padded her way out of the apartment and down to the basement, which wasn't that bad. A few adjustments here and there to displace the weight of the things in the basket and she was in the basement in no time. Three of the five washers were claimed by her, which she felt a little guilty about. Normally she would only take two tops, but since there was a rule about no washing after ten, and it was now a little after six, she needed to move her ***. Once the loads were done, Ross set the timer on her phone and headed back up to the apartment to pass some time with some local news, and anything that came on after that.
Wearing: https://68.media.tumblr.com/37c1cb2101b ... o1_500.jpg
Between the sheets-Zar
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Balthazar
- Registered User
- Posts: 75
- Joined: 07 Mar 2017, 22:56
- CrowNet Handle: Captain Hook
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
With the fatigued stretch of his stride the idea of being thrown under a moving bus came to mind. The mechanical growl of the city transit cruised by leaving him in a lung polluting cloud of exhaust courtesy of the congested pipes closer to the ground than regulations likely permit. Balthazar had more than enough on his plate without entertaining the idea of stepping into the path of the next diesel fueled machine to find out if he could feel any worse than he currently did. The ache and the strain on his body was so deep that he couldn’t remember the recent days and nights prior when he had no pain at all. If he wasn’t dying he was getting pretty god damned close. He knew who owned the credit which really didn’t make it any better at all to know what was hitting him hard and heavy.
The world of hurt that now ruled him set in since his first encounter with Jesse ‘Fanged-Up’ Fforde. It wasn’t letting up no matter how much he downed the red cattle drinks, the triple mind resuscitating shots of expresso and the ineffective acupuncture he subjected himself in the shady shop two blocks back. The near fall from the open elevator shaft that he narrowly escaped dropping into on the way in didn’t make things any better either. He was safer holing up in the small room he rented surrounded by the security of four solid walls until he got his options sorted out. The professional yet unemployed ball diver had been informed of what they were but that came from the one who pretty much started his terminal condition. It was not sitting well to be on the dismal receiving end of the tattoo master’s diagnosis.
The sole of his boot lifted off the carpet and his hand pulled off the bulk of worn leather and dangling laces. A repeat performance on the opposite foot had his left hand full and his right on the door knob which surprised him with the smooth opening without his key. He wasn’t in the mood to figure out why. Anything at risk for loss inside sure as hell wasn’t his. He had the shop overall’s on his *** and the equivalent in minimal wardrobe options in his sparse sleeping room within. Once inside the door closed with the nudge of his elbow kicking back. A reach back locked the deadbolt and secured the minor lock on the doorknob itself. He was done with underestimating the world he shut out with the recent moves. The straps over his otherwise bare shoulders plummeted with the weight of the brass buckles and sliders sinking behind his knees.
“Ross?” He would have been surprised to hear a response.
Something about the place was different each time he stepped back in. It could simply be a stronger sense of her presence due to the increased time of being roomates. Or maybe he was just that much more in tune with the space he passed through because from what he had been told he wouldn’t be seeing it much longer depending how things went down in the hours, nights ahead.
The small glimmer of hope was the fact if the roomie was MIA that meant he could suffer in peace. A few steps further into the hallway had him thankful to be spared the appearance of the insecure boyfriend framing himself in the doorway to her room to say who just slept there. He didn’t give it a second glance as he passed it by and entered his. Weak and for the most part finally numb the boots hooked by the tips of his fingers landed with a thud next to his bed while the socks that had been concealing his inked feet peeled off with the minimal effort of his sluggish hand. Hours would have to pass before he could make a return trip to the one who could offer the only known source of relief to what was breaking him down. Until then he would be left to his own devices. All of which up until that point have done nothing at all to mask the internal hell he had been cursed to.
The world of hurt that now ruled him set in since his first encounter with Jesse ‘Fanged-Up’ Fforde. It wasn’t letting up no matter how much he downed the red cattle drinks, the triple mind resuscitating shots of expresso and the ineffective acupuncture he subjected himself in the shady shop two blocks back. The near fall from the open elevator shaft that he narrowly escaped dropping into on the way in didn’t make things any better either. He was safer holing up in the small room he rented surrounded by the security of four solid walls until he got his options sorted out. The professional yet unemployed ball diver had been informed of what they were but that came from the one who pretty much started his terminal condition. It was not sitting well to be on the dismal receiving end of the tattoo master’s diagnosis.
The sole of his boot lifted off the carpet and his hand pulled off the bulk of worn leather and dangling laces. A repeat performance on the opposite foot had his left hand full and his right on the door knob which surprised him with the smooth opening without his key. He wasn’t in the mood to figure out why. Anything at risk for loss inside sure as hell wasn’t his. He had the shop overall’s on his *** and the equivalent in minimal wardrobe options in his sparse sleeping room within. Once inside the door closed with the nudge of his elbow kicking back. A reach back locked the deadbolt and secured the minor lock on the doorknob itself. He was done with underestimating the world he shut out with the recent moves. The straps over his otherwise bare shoulders plummeted with the weight of the brass buckles and sliders sinking behind his knees.
“Ross?” He would have been surprised to hear a response.
Something about the place was different each time he stepped back in. It could simply be a stronger sense of her presence due to the increased time of being roomates. Or maybe he was just that much more in tune with the space he passed through because from what he had been told he wouldn’t be seeing it much longer depending how things went down in the hours, nights ahead.
The small glimmer of hope was the fact if the roomie was MIA that meant he could suffer in peace. A few steps further into the hallway had him thankful to be spared the appearance of the insecure boyfriend framing himself in the doorway to her room to say who just slept there. He didn’t give it a second glance as he passed it by and entered his. Weak and for the most part finally numb the boots hooked by the tips of his fingers landed with a thud next to his bed while the socks that had been concealing his inked feet peeled off with the minimal effort of his sluggish hand. Hours would have to pass before he could make a return trip to the one who could offer the only known source of relief to what was breaking him down. Until then he would be left to his own devices. All of which up until that point have done nothing at all to mask the internal hell he had been cursed to.
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Ross (DELETED 9384)
- Posts: 32
- Joined: 24 Mar 2017, 23:15
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
When her alarm had gone off, it had woken her from a state of disassociation from what was going on around her. A sure sign that Ross was mentally tired from the week of hell. She loved her job, and would forget about it all later after a good night of sleep, but she didn't want to hear anything about 'cars,' 'control system,' 'grive system' or anything else that Ross had dealt with all week long.
That heavily tattooed woman hoisted herself off the couch, grabbed her phone and apartment key, then headed down to the basement to switch the loads over. "Half way there." She told herself, in some singular show of support for the task at hand. After the loads had been moved to the dryers, Ross put some quarters in the respective machines and started them up. One hour was set on her phone, before she stuffed the flat object between her upper assets.
Ross climbed the three sets of stairs to her shared apartment, then groaned when she got to the door and realized that Ross had left her keys on the dryer in the basement. Which was locked. Each floor was locked, respectively, for security measures, Ross was told. She was stuck on this floor, unable to get inside her apartment. "****." Ross grumbled as she grabbed her cellphone out from between her breasts and looked for Zar's number.
Ross punched in her four digit code to retrieve the message, then hit the number that would allow her to listen to the voice mail, before putting it to her left ear. Did he forget something? No way was she running to where ever he was this week to give it to him. She wasn't his mom, or his wife. Besides, he was an adult. More adult than her by a couple of years.
There was a lot of silence before there was the sound of muffled voices. It was almost as if Travis hadn't intended to call her phone because he was speaking with someone, instead of speaking to her voice mail. Some woman. Nothing Ross was overly concerned about, he was at a work meeting and at least one woman was bound to be there. Ross wasn't the insecure type, she didn't have time for that crap. She didn't have time for it during her apprenticeship, or during high school, so she definitely did not have time for it now.
Ross squinted her eyes, as if that would help her hear the conversation better, then tipped the phone to one of its sides so she could turn the volume up all the way. The woman was laughing and they were talking about the hotel she liked the best. Then Travis asked if they should get one room or two. The rest was muffled, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going down. Even if they worked together, no way in **** should they be sharing a room. While she shared an apartment with Zar, they each had their own sleeping spaces.
Ross hung up the voice mail message, then sent Travis a short, but blunt text.
That heavily tattooed woman hoisted herself off the couch, grabbed her phone and apartment key, then headed down to the basement to switch the loads over. "Half way there." She told herself, in some singular show of support for the task at hand. After the loads had been moved to the dryers, Ross put some quarters in the respective machines and started them up. One hour was set on her phone, before she stuffed the flat object between her upper assets.
Ross climbed the three sets of stairs to her shared apartment, then groaned when she got to the door and realized that Ross had left her keys on the dryer in the basement. Which was locked. Each floor was locked, respectively, for security measures, Ross was told. She was stuck on this floor, unable to get inside her apartment. "****." Ross grumbled as she grabbed her cellphone out from between her breasts and looked for Zar's number.
To: Zar
From: Ross
Message: Any idea when you might be home? I left my keys in the basement.
Ross sent the message without any further delay, then leaned against the door of their apartment. She sighed, shifted her position so that her back was against the door, then crossed her legs at her ankles. It was after she sent the message to Zar that Ross recognized she had a new voice mail. Somewhere between watching television, phasing out of the world and switching laundry, her phone had been called and someone left a message. Before Ross even checked the voice mail, she looked to see who had called. Travis. That was an unexpected surprise. Usually this was a quite period from both of them while he was away on business.From: Ross
Message: Any idea when you might be home? I left my keys in the basement.
Ross punched in her four digit code to retrieve the message, then hit the number that would allow her to listen to the voice mail, before putting it to her left ear. Did he forget something? No way was she running to where ever he was this week to give it to him. She wasn't his mom, or his wife. Besides, he was an adult. More adult than her by a couple of years.
There was a lot of silence before there was the sound of muffled voices. It was almost as if Travis hadn't intended to call her phone because he was speaking with someone, instead of speaking to her voice mail. Some woman. Nothing Ross was overly concerned about, he was at a work meeting and at least one woman was bound to be there. Ross wasn't the insecure type, she didn't have time for that crap. She didn't have time for it during her apprenticeship, or during high school, so she definitely did not have time for it now.
Ross squinted her eyes, as if that would help her hear the conversation better, then tipped the phone to one of its sides so she could turn the volume up all the way. The woman was laughing and they were talking about the hotel she liked the best. Then Travis asked if they should get one room or two. The rest was muffled, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going down. Even if they worked together, no way in **** should they be sharing a room. While she shared an apartment with Zar, they each had their own sleeping spaces.
Ross hung up the voice mail message, then sent Travis a short, but blunt text.
To: Travis
From: Ross
Message: Having fun, asshole?
Between being locked out of her own apartment, the long work week and accidentally hearing a conversation she shouldn't have been privileged to, Ross needed a drink. A big one.From: Ross
Message: Having fun, asshole?
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Balthazar
- Registered User
- Posts: 75
- Joined: 07 Mar 2017, 22:56
- CrowNet Handle: Captain Hook
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
Only one fact stood strong no matter what label was on the bottle firmly held in his frequently switching grip. All the alcohol and all the promises that their eye watering aroma offered didn’t do a god damned thing for the condition Balthazar was currently in. Not that he wasn’t going at it half ***. He was balls and *** on a roll gambling his remaining hours away from a shot of much needed relief since any hope took a royal **** more than twelve hours back. Zar was a giver. Just ask anyone. And damn right there he was in his half dressed bib overall wearing shape putting all he had available in the shared Sanctuary apartment towards it.
Starting out Zar tried to simply wash down the truth and swallow it until it went MIA in his bottomless gut.Unfortunately the first four pints invested did nothing to drown the pain that came along with the repeated failures of trying to forget what was consuming him from the inside out.
The sound of another empty bottle landing in the garbage rang out for the count. How many shitty songs were written about it? He knew it would not be the first time. It sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. So many nights went down in history where the egos and misery of men and women went down in eighty proof flames. Getting there was supposed to be half the fun but he felt like it wasn’t happening fast enough. So that light bulb that lingers over every wise man’s head went off and he naturally doubled his efforts. He pulled Jose Cuervo out of the top shelf over the kitchen counter and took up his pressing issue of pending death with his second hand. Now Jack Daniels had company. Soon he was clinking the bottles and making an inebriated wish it would do the trick before setting the top of one to his lips. The sound of his clock radio going off is the only thing that stopped him from going through with it.
A relaxed pace of bare feet padding through the hallway was interrupted by the chirp of his cell phone. This usually meant the burner was about to die from neglect of a much needed recharge. Now that he was closer to the clock radio he was able to get more than a distant ear full of what was playing. The plastic box was belting out a song that typically would have lost it’s air time just for sounding like it was one of those backwoods bar boozin’ pick me up and take me home songs. This time things were heading farther south than he ever had a reason to explore before.
Zar was a man that was taking in his last drink and choking down his last supper. As far as he was concerned everything here on out was going to be thrown a curveball. He picked up the apartment wide sound system remote and synced up the music to make the walls vibrate with the obnoxious message and step accompanying beat. It was working already. Surprisingly his gut hurt less, his head wasn’t throbbing and with Jose and Jack in his hands he was a beast ready to fight back with all the liquid courage and inspiration they could offer.
A few pulls from each bottle covered his walk back towards the spot his phone sat for the passing view. Another shot and he gave the screen a glance while his mind was getting set to blow off whoever it was for what he already had going on. If this was his wake then he was going to throw one hell of party before it ended. One man, two hands, several bottles and some of the shittiest music to hit the airwaves. He made out the message and raised a surprised brow while wiping the moisture from his mustache with the back of his hand. Into the momentum too much to slow his current pace he neglected to leave the bottles behind as his fingers unfastened the lock and pulled the door open too fast for the one resting on it to ditch the support it provided. A vision of an angel falling signaled a good woman was down.
“Party just started.” Zar handed Ross the two thirds full 1.75 liter bottle of Jose followed by a quick lift off the floor. How much was really there was too much work to get precise about. His roomie was known to be smart enough to figure out he was tapping out more hot water than she was. She could do the liquor math and divvy up the final tab and send it to Jesse 'Fanged Up' Fforde. “Good news.” He breathed out strong proof he was hosting at least two bottles in his blood stream. “You still have time to catch up.”
Starting out Zar tried to simply wash down the truth and swallow it until it went MIA in his bottomless gut.Unfortunately the first four pints invested did nothing to drown the pain that came along with the repeated failures of trying to forget what was consuming him from the inside out.
The sound of another empty bottle landing in the garbage rang out for the count. How many shitty songs were written about it? He knew it would not be the first time. It sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. So many nights went down in history where the egos and misery of men and women went down in eighty proof flames. Getting there was supposed to be half the fun but he felt like it wasn’t happening fast enough. So that light bulb that lingers over every wise man’s head went off and he naturally doubled his efforts. He pulled Jose Cuervo out of the top shelf over the kitchen counter and took up his pressing issue of pending death with his second hand. Now Jack Daniels had company. Soon he was clinking the bottles and making an inebriated wish it would do the trick before setting the top of one to his lips. The sound of his clock radio going off is the only thing that stopped him from going through with it.
A relaxed pace of bare feet padding through the hallway was interrupted by the chirp of his cell phone. This usually meant the burner was about to die from neglect of a much needed recharge. Now that he was closer to the clock radio he was able to get more than a distant ear full of what was playing. The plastic box was belting out a song that typically would have lost it’s air time just for sounding like it was one of those backwoods bar boozin’ pick me up and take me home songs. This time things were heading farther south than he ever had a reason to explore before.
Zar was a man that was taking in his last drink and choking down his last supper. As far as he was concerned everything here on out was going to be thrown a curveball. He picked up the apartment wide sound system remote and synced up the music to make the walls vibrate with the obnoxious message and step accompanying beat. It was working already. Surprisingly his gut hurt less, his head wasn’t throbbing and with Jose and Jack in his hands he was a beast ready to fight back with all the liquid courage and inspiration they could offer.
A few pulls from each bottle covered his walk back towards the spot his phone sat for the passing view. Another shot and he gave the screen a glance while his mind was getting set to blow off whoever it was for what he already had going on. If this was his wake then he was going to throw one hell of party before it ended. One man, two hands, several bottles and some of the shittiest music to hit the airwaves. He made out the message and raised a surprised brow while wiping the moisture from his mustache with the back of his hand. Into the momentum too much to slow his current pace he neglected to leave the bottles behind as his fingers unfastened the lock and pulled the door open too fast for the one resting on it to ditch the support it provided. A vision of an angel falling signaled a good woman was down.
“Party just started.” Zar handed Ross the two thirds full 1.75 liter bottle of Jose followed by a quick lift off the floor. How much was really there was too much work to get precise about. His roomie was known to be smart enough to figure out he was tapping out more hot water than she was. She could do the liquor math and divvy up the final tab and send it to Jesse 'Fanged Up' Fforde. “Good news.” He breathed out strong proof he was hosting at least two bottles in his blood stream. “You still have time to catch up.”
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Ross (DELETED 9384)
- Posts: 32
- Joined: 24 Mar 2017, 23:15
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
“What the ever loving--” Ross didn't continue that train of thought as she heard music coming from within the apartment building. Somewhere between her switching the laundry and coming back up here, Zar had made his way back to their shared apartment. And instead of trying to knock on the door, Ross was standing outside her own apartment, texting him like an idiot. It figured that this was how her night was going to go, all things considered. She laughed and shook her head against the door, before it opened and she came tumbling inside, flat on her ***. She looked up to see an all too familiar figure looming over her.
Her dark eyes went to his art work, taking in more detail about them than Ross ever had before. This wasn't the first time she had seen him shirtless, but since she was staring right up at him, the observation couldn't be denied. “Party?” Ross asked as he helped her off the ground, the stench of various types of booze not being missed as Zar kept talking to her. Her eyes moved around the kitchen to see how much damage Zar had done to Ross' mediocre supply. Vodka, tequila, Jim Bean and a few other half drank bottles were what Ross once owned, but she assumed that her supply had been dwindled. She wasn't worried about it now, but she would definitely be letting him know he owed her a bottle or two in the morning.
“Did you leave me anything good?” Ross asked, holding the tequila in her hands. It was a good place to start, but tequila wasn't her choice of poison. Still, it was a drink that she didn't have to search for, so with a shrug, Ross moved to the cabinet that had four or five shot glasses of all sorts and grabbed two of them. She poured them each a shot, then set the bottle on the counter, before grabbing both glasses and moving over to where Zar was standing. If that could be said about his state. Ross laughed. “You look...rough.” She could have said like ****, but he was her roommate and would still be that in the morning. “What's your story?” She asked, holding out his shot, before lifting her shot to her mouth and tipping her head back. “Bet I could one up you.” She said somewhat sarcastically, before moving to the counter to fill her shot glass once again.
Her dark eyes went to his art work, taking in more detail about them than Ross ever had before. This wasn't the first time she had seen him shirtless, but since she was staring right up at him, the observation couldn't be denied. “Party?” Ross asked as he helped her off the ground, the stench of various types of booze not being missed as Zar kept talking to her. Her eyes moved around the kitchen to see how much damage Zar had done to Ross' mediocre supply. Vodka, tequila, Jim Bean and a few other half drank bottles were what Ross once owned, but she assumed that her supply had been dwindled. She wasn't worried about it now, but she would definitely be letting him know he owed her a bottle or two in the morning.
“Did you leave me anything good?” Ross asked, holding the tequila in her hands. It was a good place to start, but tequila wasn't her choice of poison. Still, it was a drink that she didn't have to search for, so with a shrug, Ross moved to the cabinet that had four or five shot glasses of all sorts and grabbed two of them. She poured them each a shot, then set the bottle on the counter, before grabbing both glasses and moving over to where Zar was standing. If that could be said about his state. Ross laughed. “You look...rough.” She could have said like ****, but he was her roommate and would still be that in the morning. “What's your story?” She asked, holding out his shot, before lifting her shot to her mouth and tipping her head back. “Bet I could one up you.” She said somewhat sarcastically, before moving to the counter to fill her shot glass once again.
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Balthazar
- Registered User
- Posts: 75
- Joined: 07 Mar 2017, 22:56
- CrowNet Handle: Captain Hook
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
“Then have at it.” The wave of his hand holding his chosen bottle invited Ross to give it her best at trying. “But before you do.” He added while sinking into the comfort of a generous leather sofa. “Do you care to make a wager?”
A brief tip back of his head allowed the cool burn of the liquor to run to the back of his throat like he did this routinely, which he most certainly had not. He had never been subjected to so much as a single self-induced hangover. The way he understood it from Jesse’s end he wouldn’t really live to find out what one felt like. Chances are it wouldn’t live up to all the hype anyways. How could it come close to the walk off the humanity plank he was currently taking? Everything he thought was close to unbearable in his past just paled in comparison now. So much didn't matter anymore and even less than that became so much more important. It took being faced with dying to be reminded what really mattered. The whole world had it all ******* messed up.
Anyways, what he proposed often turned out to be the sort of deal that could be describedas a little shady and typically held ulterior motives. Especially when alcohol was involved. And so given all of that it was more than fair to say that such would be the case for Balthazar in the very least and more than likely Ross as well. What she was going for wasn’t giving him reason to sweat more than he already had in the last hours. Given Jack was still in his hand he was starting to feel put out by having to give it any sort of reasonable mature consideration. She was ready to hit the bottle he never seen her pulling out until he handed it to her. Obviously he wasn’t the only one having a night from hell.
“A little something to sweeten the deal when one of us tells the sadder tale of woe.” Zar nodded a little and offered a steely eyes wink while raising his nearly empty bottle in the air for confirmation he was more than ready to hit every last shot she called. “Nothing crazy. You won’t lose your pants or wallet over what I have in mind so rest assured.” Another slow swallow washed down the flames that briefly tried to rise up the back of his throat. “You win I will toss in both of mine as a bonus to whatever you want if you win. Only hint I will give you is that I won’t need either of them for much longer.” His eyes cooled as they settled on her waiting for her answer. She was a cool chick. Beautiful, independent. She was the full package. Too damn good for the loser that clung to her like a cockroach on a wall after the lights went out. Enough of the feeling like the world was ending. He waggled his brows to lighten the seriousness behind what he revealed.
A brief tip back of his head allowed the cool burn of the liquor to run to the back of his throat like he did this routinely, which he most certainly had not. He had never been subjected to so much as a single self-induced hangover. The way he understood it from Jesse’s end he wouldn’t really live to find out what one felt like. Chances are it wouldn’t live up to all the hype anyways. How could it come close to the walk off the humanity plank he was currently taking? Everything he thought was close to unbearable in his past just paled in comparison now. So much didn't matter anymore and even less than that became so much more important. It took being faced with dying to be reminded what really mattered. The whole world had it all ******* messed up.
Anyways, what he proposed often turned out to be the sort of deal that could be describedas a little shady and typically held ulterior motives. Especially when alcohol was involved. And so given all of that it was more than fair to say that such would be the case for Balthazar in the very least and more than likely Ross as well. What she was going for wasn’t giving him reason to sweat more than he already had in the last hours. Given Jack was still in his hand he was starting to feel put out by having to give it any sort of reasonable mature consideration. She was ready to hit the bottle he never seen her pulling out until he handed it to her. Obviously he wasn’t the only one having a night from hell.
“A little something to sweeten the deal when one of us tells the sadder tale of woe.” Zar nodded a little and offered a steely eyes wink while raising his nearly empty bottle in the air for confirmation he was more than ready to hit every last shot she called. “Nothing crazy. You won’t lose your pants or wallet over what I have in mind so rest assured.” Another slow swallow washed down the flames that briefly tried to rise up the back of his throat. “You win I will toss in both of mine as a bonus to whatever you want if you win. Only hint I will give you is that I won’t need either of them for much longer.” His eyes cooled as they settled on her waiting for her answer. She was a cool chick. Beautiful, independent. She was the full package. Too damn good for the loser that clung to her like a cockroach on a wall after the lights went out. Enough of the feeling like the world was ending. He waggled his brows to lighten the seriousness behind what he revealed.
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Ross (DELETED 9384)
- Posts: 32
- Joined: 24 Mar 2017, 23:15
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
Any other night the idea of any form of wager would have Ross laughing him off and shaking her head. It just sounded a little too suspicious for her liking. Meaning anything and everything was up for grabs and that just wouldn't fly with Ross. But, this wasn't any other night. It might just be Zar's lucky night.
Or not. Before she started even thinking about any potential wager, Zar was already putting the kibosh on some things. Nothing to do with money and nothing to do with taking off clothing. He didn't know what he could have wagered and what he might have missed out on this rate. Ross shrugged, then took a seat at the table, kicking the chair out with her left foot. "Okay." She was down for telling the tales of her week and watching him lose what was up for the bet.
"The wager is..." Ross took her shot glass and tipped it back, then polished the single shot off in one quick swallow. The glass was set down and she poured herself another. "The person who didn't have the shittiest week, meaning the loser has to get a tattoo of the winner's choice." What was one more piece of ink on her skin? And judging from what Ross had seen of Zar, it didn't seem like it would matter for him either. "Their choice and no whining about it. Ever." Ross took the second shot, leaned back in the chair she sat in and looked at Zar. "Deal?"
Or not. Before she started even thinking about any potential wager, Zar was already putting the kibosh on some things. Nothing to do with money and nothing to do with taking off clothing. He didn't know what he could have wagered and what he might have missed out on this rate. Ross shrugged, then took a seat at the table, kicking the chair out with her left foot. "Okay." She was down for telling the tales of her week and watching him lose what was up for the bet.
"The wager is..." Ross took her shot glass and tipped it back, then polished the single shot off in one quick swallow. The glass was set down and she poured herself another. "The person who didn't have the shittiest week, meaning the loser has to get a tattoo of the winner's choice." What was one more piece of ink on her skin? And judging from what Ross had seen of Zar, it didn't seem like it would matter for him either. "Their choice and no whining about it. Ever." Ross took the second shot, leaned back in the chair she sat in and looked at Zar. "Deal?"
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Balthazar
- Registered User
- Posts: 75
- Joined: 07 Mar 2017, 22:56
- CrowNet Handle: Captain Hook
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
“Deal.”
He confirmed with a nod that had his pale mug dipping once in agreement. Ink didn’t scare him. Neither did permanent ink. All of it really was a pleasure to be subjected to when it came to his well canvassed hide. Was it wrong that his roommate was all too trusting while setting the wager? That she was oblivious to the fact that he stood a serious and very real chance that he would not survive to see it happen. His loss or hers. No matter on who was coming out of it the loser. A new piece to the minimal amount of available free space on either of their colorful bodies would hardly kill them under normal circumstances and odds.
In his case there was a hidden ‘what if’. Would she hold him to it after his expiration? The mental imaging of the tenacious female hauling his cool and rigor influenced corpse into Serpentine for an unexpected viewing had a small offering of amusement where it likely shouldn’t. What would Jesse think of that? Her imagined demands for the deal to be followed through had the expertly tended mustache over his top lip and beneath his pierced nose stretching with the rising corners of his mouth.
“No tears shed, no bitching and no whining.” He winked.
His hand was a bit fuzzy as it found his mouth with a slow and gradual movement. He parted his lips and accepted the rim of the glass bottle that it held. Whatever was left inside would wash down the apprehension that tried to surface at the thought of being dead. He thought of the alternate possibility. Being born again. Rising in a way that no loving or pure god would have a hand in.
The attempt to switch outlooks for a more favorable feeling within found him eyeing the color swirled over her skin, the line of her exposed neck. It was a stunning visual. One that he counted on chasing away the uncertainty that wasn’t sitting well with him. Even if it meant the internal war his body was currently influenced by would be won. Balthazar Fforde was far from ready to die and he knew it as the mouthful of liquor escaped the inner walls and traveled down his throat.
He confirmed with a nod that had his pale mug dipping once in agreement. Ink didn’t scare him. Neither did permanent ink. All of it really was a pleasure to be subjected to when it came to his well canvassed hide. Was it wrong that his roommate was all too trusting while setting the wager? That she was oblivious to the fact that he stood a serious and very real chance that he would not survive to see it happen. His loss or hers. No matter on who was coming out of it the loser. A new piece to the minimal amount of available free space on either of their colorful bodies would hardly kill them under normal circumstances and odds.
In his case there was a hidden ‘what if’. Would she hold him to it after his expiration? The mental imaging of the tenacious female hauling his cool and rigor influenced corpse into Serpentine for an unexpected viewing had a small offering of amusement where it likely shouldn’t. What would Jesse think of that? Her imagined demands for the deal to be followed through had the expertly tended mustache over his top lip and beneath his pierced nose stretching with the rising corners of his mouth.
“No tears shed, no bitching and no whining.” He winked.
His hand was a bit fuzzy as it found his mouth with a slow and gradual movement. He parted his lips and accepted the rim of the glass bottle that it held. Whatever was left inside would wash down the apprehension that tried to surface at the thought of being dead. He thought of the alternate possibility. Being born again. Rising in a way that no loving or pure god would have a hand in.
The attempt to switch outlooks for a more favorable feeling within found him eyeing the color swirled over her skin, the line of her exposed neck. It was a stunning visual. One that he counted on chasing away the uncertainty that wasn’t sitting well with him. Even if it meant the internal war his body was currently influenced by would be won. Balthazar Fforde was far from ready to die and he knew it as the mouthful of liquor escaped the inner walls and traveled down his throat.
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Ross (DELETED 9384)
- Posts: 32
- Joined: 24 Mar 2017, 23:15
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
The deal was struck and Ross nodded appreciatively. No tears, no whining and no bitching. She believed it, even if she had the shittiest week of them both and plastered something hideous on his body. "Deal." She agreed, even though it had been her terms to begin with. But, she still acknowledged it, because he had to know that whatever he picked, wherever he picked wasn't going to result in any of those from her either.
Ross poured herself another drink and then took it, before setting the small shot glass down. "I think I must have slept, maybe thirty hours this week. So, first off, I'm tired, overworked, but can't ***** about it too much because the pay is good. Still, I'm probably in need of a vacation. Not that I know what one of those is. But, I've dealt with anything from **** that was preventable, to **** that wasn't. The last part is cool, but the first part...if people would just do whatever they're supposed to do or call us for regular maintenance...It would save them money and me time." Ross complained, thinking about how some of the stuff could have easily taken half the time, hell, even a quarter if they would have had her out there earlier. She poured herself another drink. "And then when I tell them all they had to do was replace the sheaves a few months ago, we wouldn't have to replace the other parts...I get the 'you're a ***** look.'" I know it's a lot of money, elevator maintenance, but I don't try and pull anything over anyone's eyes." Ross shook her head, then took the next shot, before setting it down, and looking across at Zar. "You're round." She said with a two finger index point in his direction, waiting to hear how his week went.
Ross poured herself another drink and then took it, before setting the small shot glass down. "I think I must have slept, maybe thirty hours this week. So, first off, I'm tired, overworked, but can't ***** about it too much because the pay is good. Still, I'm probably in need of a vacation. Not that I know what one of those is. But, I've dealt with anything from **** that was preventable, to **** that wasn't. The last part is cool, but the first part...if people would just do whatever they're supposed to do or call us for regular maintenance...It would save them money and me time." Ross complained, thinking about how some of the stuff could have easily taken half the time, hell, even a quarter if they would have had her out there earlier. She poured herself another drink. "And then when I tell them all they had to do was replace the sheaves a few months ago, we wouldn't have to replace the other parts...I get the 'you're a ***** look.'" I know it's a lot of money, elevator maintenance, but I don't try and pull anything over anyone's eyes." Ross shook her head, then took the next shot, before setting it down, and looking across at Zar. "You're round." She said with a two finger index point in his direction, waiting to hear how his week went.
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Balthazar
- Registered User
- Posts: 75
- Joined: 07 Mar 2017, 22:56
- CrowNet Handle: Captain Hook
Re: Between the sheets-Zar
“Yeah, well…” A subtle whistle of air drawn in between his parted lips and teeth signaled he needed something besides the Jack and Jose settling in his bloodstream to answer that. Maybe some of the passed over schnapps would offer some relief to the uneasy feeling coming for a return tour of duty. “You won’t believe what I am about to tell you.” He thought of taking off the pants he said he would turn over but tugged out his wallet instead and slapped it down for effect. “But just in case…” He nodded with a twitch of his mustache as if lack of words to complete his intended statement would suffice with the gesture.
Where in the hell was he really supposed to start telling something like this? It still gave him the creeps just thinking about it. All of it. Not just finding Jesse. It went back farther than that. It was all the way the **** back to when he could remember Christopher Fforde loading his imitation leather products bag into the back trunk of the car. The very same boat of a vehicle that he was more than happy to bust an offending *** over if anyone so much as breathed on it. And the same one that went to the keys in brother Fforde’s pockets...or wherever he was currently hanging on to them. Balthazar had started this so he would get down to it. But first duty was calling.
Holding up a finger for the request of a second to prepare himself gave him the time to polish off the miniscule amount of fluid left in the bottom of his current bottle. Zar slid it on the flat surface towards her for proof he was hardly down and out. Just empty and hardly shy about admitting it. He was preparing to bottle up again and give the expected amount for collateral before telling his side of things. But before anything else transpired he needed to take a piss then get into the back up cupboard that still held some liquid promise.
A here and there swagger that would never win him any awards had him heading towards the bathroom and eventually back out. The dangling strap to his bib overalls bounced against whatever he came too close to while making his way back through the kitchen. A reach into the cupboard had a couple more bottles in his hand and placed on the table while he sat down with a little less grace than before. All to be expected really. Ross would understand in the end. But just in case...he took a pull from the bottle of fume filled sweetness and winced as the reward slid down his throat. His nipples sharpened and stiffened the piercings on each. He eyed her a few seconds while getting it started in his head.
“So, I came here looking for someone. Obviously you know that much.” At least he thought he shared it with her at some point. Then again he could be a bit off base on that given his deteriorating condition. “And I found them.” He set down his bottle, slammed the shot on the table then patted the surface with his palm as the tiny glass flipped over. One eye widened while the other closed up. “My brother.” He tapped the shot glass and signaled he wasn’t playing his whole hand all at once. Not when he had some of the wildest bits left to share. “And that is only the motherfucking beginning. Your shot. Gimme something to work for.”
Where in the hell was he really supposed to start telling something like this? It still gave him the creeps just thinking about it. All of it. Not just finding Jesse. It went back farther than that. It was all the way the **** back to when he could remember Christopher Fforde loading his imitation leather products bag into the back trunk of the car. The very same boat of a vehicle that he was more than happy to bust an offending *** over if anyone so much as breathed on it. And the same one that went to the keys in brother Fforde’s pockets...or wherever he was currently hanging on to them. Balthazar had started this so he would get down to it. But first duty was calling.
Holding up a finger for the request of a second to prepare himself gave him the time to polish off the miniscule amount of fluid left in the bottom of his current bottle. Zar slid it on the flat surface towards her for proof he was hardly down and out. Just empty and hardly shy about admitting it. He was preparing to bottle up again and give the expected amount for collateral before telling his side of things. But before anything else transpired he needed to take a piss then get into the back up cupboard that still held some liquid promise.
A here and there swagger that would never win him any awards had him heading towards the bathroom and eventually back out. The dangling strap to his bib overalls bounced against whatever he came too close to while making his way back through the kitchen. A reach into the cupboard had a couple more bottles in his hand and placed on the table while he sat down with a little less grace than before. All to be expected really. Ross would understand in the end. But just in case...he took a pull from the bottle of fume filled sweetness and winced as the reward slid down his throat. His nipples sharpened and stiffened the piercings on each. He eyed her a few seconds while getting it started in his head.
“So, I came here looking for someone. Obviously you know that much.” At least he thought he shared it with her at some point. Then again he could be a bit off base on that given his deteriorating condition. “And I found them.” He set down his bottle, slammed the shot on the table then patted the surface with his palm as the tiny glass flipped over. One eye widened while the other closed up. “My brother.” He tapped the shot glass and signaled he wasn’t playing his whole hand all at once. Not when he had some of the wildest bits left to share. “And that is only the motherfucking beginning. Your shot. Gimme something to work for.”