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Post by wesley on Sept 28, 2011 11:45:27 GMT 10
 This was ridiculous; a week in capeside and the only places he could get to on his own were Pat's, Blackwater, and the grocery store. Apparently, on his next trip to the store, he'd have to pick up a Capeside map... or an AA brochure. But, right now, it was Friday night and that meant he could spend his evening drinking and no one would judge. Maybe, if he kept drinking everyday, he'd be able to avoid a really bad hangover. Though, it was helpful that he didn't get himself piss drunk every time he went out to drink; instead, limiting himself to just a little bit of whiskey and mainly some beer.... but the latter was just a necessity.
But he had no plans for the weekend--or the following month, for that matter, so tonight could be his first night entirely forgetting his problems. maybe, if he was really committed, he'd even forget his way back home and his name by the time they were shouting 'last call'. Okay, maybe no quite so extreme, but after a week in Capeside, the reality of his brother's death was starting to weigh on him. All he was looking for the next month was distractions until he could get back to work and back to running from everything around him. At the moment, alcohol would have to suffice. So far, it was doing a damn good job.
"Sorry, liver, hope you don't hold it against me." Wesley smiled as he pulled open the door to Pat's and headed for the bar. Leaning against the counter, he smiled to the bartender. "I'll take a Corona." Once the bottle was placed in front of him, he added a "Thank you, sir," and moved to take a seat at the bar. As he settled in, he pulled off his hat and set it on the counter beside him. Perhaps, at some point, he'd consider losing the boots, belt buckle and hat, since they only seemed to make him stick out like a sore thumb around here. Though, he saw some benefits to that; at least, even if he was lost, he'd be easy to find for anyone looking. And, thus far, he hadn't been convinced that losing it would be a worthwhile change. Instead of mixing up his wardrobe, he was quite content to simply sit back and get to know his drink a little bit better.
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Post by brandon on Oct 3, 2011 14:34:54 GMT 10
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,320,true]TAGGED WESLEY
It was Friday night and all Brandon could think about was Audrey, Texas, Pat’s and booze. The first two thoughts he discarded for fear that they would cause an emotional breakdown. The last two thoughts he simply smiled at. He had finally found himself a way out of the Police Station and now he was heading down to the bar. He usually spent most of his nights there. Audrey, thankfully, did not have her shift on Fridays. If she did, Brandon would not be going there. Soon he found himself at the bar, walking in and settling down on a nice, comfy seat. “The usual but stronger tonight,” Brandon murmured to the bartender. Taking a sip of his drink he noticed a man walk in, get a Corona and pull off a very familiar looking hat. Grinning, Brandon looked down at the man’s boots and then noticed the belt. Sliding over a seat so that he was beside the cowboy man, Brandon let himself grin openly. “If you ask me, I think that Texans have the right look. Our sense of fashion is just impeccable. It’s Capeside that does not understand us.” |
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Post by wesley on Oct 3, 2011 21:39:12 GMT 10
As Wesley took a few drinks of his beer, he was beginning to think that he was definitely going to need something stronger. Needless to say, beer was not taking any sting away--at least, not quick enough. He had thought before that, no matter how his family reacted, he was going to be the strong one; the one that wasn't really effected by everything. But, the more time that passed, the more he realized that wasn't the case. Wesley was fairly confident that the only thing that helped something like this was whiskey; which was exactly what he ordered as another man slid over to sit beside him and started talking. As soon as the new beverage was ordered, he turned his attention to the man. Almost instinctively, a smile forced it's way onto his face and he looked between the man and his hat.
"Well, hot damn. Here I was thinking I was in a completely different world out here--turns out I'm not the only Southern boy." Nothing like a taste of home to help you relax. Offering his hand, he introduced himself to the new guy. "Wesley; pleasure to meet you, sir."
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