[ He just-- laughs through his fingers, blinking slowly, almost like he's finally understood a joke told ages ago. Really, he's just tired in every sense of the word. ]
[ Ace hesitates for half a second before nodding, letting his hand fall away from his mouth. Despite the physical confirmation, nothing else about his answer is very convincing. ]
Good. It's just been a shit-awful day.
[ And all I want to do is drink until I can't feel my fucking face-- ]
[ And that's the terrible part. Absolutely nothing interesting happened, and he spent the whole day thinking about his sister on the anniversary of her death. About how he fucking killed her and there's not a god damn thing he can do to bring her back.
Most days, it's easy to forget (no, not really, he never forgets). Push it to the back of his mind, occupy the space with something else, someone else, anything. But it's not always so easy, not today. ]
[ On the contrary, he can lie about pretty much anything else without issue, but when it comes to his sister - well, he's a god damned mess. He laughs, tired and similar to the one from earlier. ]
I need a lot of things.
[ It's said more to himself than anything. He continues, exhaling. ]
But a drink is probably the most attainable thing at this moment.
[ He almost rolls his eyes, but he just doesn't have the energy for it. ]
Skeezy bars, my favorite.
[ Said, with absolutely no enthusiasm, because skeezy bars - or bars in general, actually - are probably his least favorite thing. It's the proximity of people, the tendency to be somewhat cramped and too intimate for his liking - the drunken disregard for personal space, but--
Well, why the fuck not? It's not like today had any chance of looking up, anyway. ]
[The bar is indeed not far, and is indeed a total dive. The barman is huge, bald, and scarred. The clientele seems to be mostly bikers and aging punks.]
[ This looks like the prelude to a shit-show, and Ace just wants to laugh, because why wouldn't it be? Fortunately (or, depending on how you look at it, unfortunately), Ace is way past caring about anything at this point. ]
This place is great. I absolutely expect to have the shit beaten out of me at some point tonight. This is great.
[ The sarcasm is strong, but he says it mostly to himself. Call it a defense mechanism, if you want. ]
Yeah, well, I kind of don't need anymore shit on my plate, so if someone wants to knock my teeth into my skull - let 'em. Actually, not the teeth, but same shit.
[ He says it casually, with a shrug, and grabs a little plastic display from the bartop. It's got a dirtied slip of paper slid inside of it with the drink specials written on it, some of them altered in faded pen. Everything sounds... terrible, but Ace isn't feeling particularly picky. ]
[ He flips the piece of plastic over to see if there's anything written on the other side - there isn't -, and then makes a quick decision before the barman approaches. ]
Oh aye, is it really? Because I haven't heard any such thing, myself... Sorry! [And Maria offers the young man a slightly sympathetic-- maybe even empathetic-- grimace as she lays this point out flat on the table between them]
[ Ace is a good little boy and doesn't start any shit - just orders a drink like he's some kind of professional and makes sure not to hold eye-contact with anyone for too long. ]
[ Oh, but it definitely can, if he gets too carried away. With a casual shrug, he turns around to accept his drink and throws a couple bills down on the bartop.
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Doesn't.~
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Yeah, well. I could really use a break.
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Good. It's just been a shit-awful day.
[ And all I want to do is drink until I can't feel my fucking face-- ]
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[ And that's the terrible part. Absolutely nothing interesting happened, and he spent the whole day thinking about his sister on the anniversary of her death. About how he fucking killed her and there's not a god damn thing he can do to bring her back.
Most days, it's easy to forget (no, not really, he never forgets). Push it to the back of his mind, occupy the space with something else, someone else, anything. But it's not always so easy, not today. ]
A-absolutely nothing, man.
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You need a drink?~
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I need a lot of things.
[ It's said more to himself than anything. He continues, exhaling. ]
But a drink is probably the most attainable thing at this moment.
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Skeezy bars, my favorite.
[ Said, with absolutely no enthusiasm, because skeezy bars - or bars in general, actually - are probably his least favorite thing. It's the proximity of people, the tendency to be somewhat cramped and too intimate for his liking - the drunken disregard for personal space, but--
Well, why the fuck not? It's not like today had any chance of looking up, anyway. ]
If they've got drink specials, I'm down.
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Lead me to this wondrous place.
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[The bar is indeed not far, and is indeed a total dive. The barman is huge, bald, and scarred. The clientele seems to be mostly bikers and aging punks.]
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This place is great. I absolutely expect to have the shit beaten out of me at some point tonight. This is great.
[ The sarcasm is strong, but he says it mostly to himself. Call it a defense mechanism, if you want. ]
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Nothing, man.
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[ Yay, alcoohol. ]
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[ He says it casually, with a shrug, and grabs a little plastic display from the bartop. It's got a dirtied slip of paper slid inside of it with the drink specials written on it, some of them altered in faded pen. Everything sounds... terrible, but Ace isn't feeling particularly picky. ]
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[ He flips the piece of plastic over to see if there's anything written on the other side - there isn't -, and then makes a quick decision before the barman approaches. ]
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[ Oh, but it definitely can, if he gets too carried away. With a casual shrug, he turns around to accept his drink and throws a couple bills down on the bartop.
Bottoms up. ]
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