Post by FERNANDO ELIARD SILPH on Nov 2, 2018 4:15:25 GMT
|the night never dies young. the hours may drag on but there's always something to do in slateport. tonight, they find themselves in the lower district, hours past dinner and well into the time zone of when bad decisions are made. that's what brings their venture out of the outskirts and into the city. man handling wild pokemon only sates so much. there's a different relief that comes in the company of another. one that's found in the solace of liquor and unpronounced conversation.|
"rumpleskin. whatever for the lady."
a shot is poured and fernando downs it without regret. it tastes of mint. like toothpaste. but the chalkiness of the flavored liquor is unmatched. fifty full proof isn't anything to laugh at and without a chaser to wash it down fernando has to let the taste settle in his mouth. it spurs the urge to chat-- a scene that's all too familiar.
"so where are you from?"