"Hey, bartender... Keep 'em comin'..."
I've been here at the bar a while, though I dunno how long, exactly... Alls I know is I've been standin' enough for my legs to ache, and there's about one, two, three, four... Four empty flagons at my table. Who the hell even works here....
"Ah, thanks." The barmaid is cute... Maybe I'll try and-
"This seat taken?" Who the hell is this guy?
"Uh, yeah, cant you see, my four friends have all left to take a piss..." Maybe if I smile real pretty he'll let me be... Shit, he's sittin' down.
"You're Llivia, right?" How the hell does he know my name? "Yeah, that's what I thought... You got the Dredayn shoulders; slender, but muscular. Just like your father. Used to serve with him here in Gnisis, you know-"
I was up before he could even finish, the chair screechin' on the tiled floor drew all the beady eyes in the Resting Kwama onto me... I don't need this shit, not tonight. Not ever.
I slam the door behind me but I don't mean to, though punchin' the tavern's sign I definitely meant to do. Maybe if I bloody my fist up a little I'll focus on the pain instead of...
Why does my house have to be so Vehk-damned far away...? I knew I should've just stayed in Balmora to get drunk, but somethin' just didn't feel right there. I felt like a visitor, even though I've lived there for months now.
I guess somethin' just draw's me to Gnisis... Somethin' I'm too drunk to hide from...
Those four flagons of matze are makin' my head not feel so good, and my feet don't seem to be workin' right... I used to think alcohol made the memories go away, but I've been drinkin' long enough to know that that ain't true. It makes you remember, forces you to wrestle with your demons... To unearth loved ones and to recount the mistakes you've made...
The door's unlocked when I reach my house, somethin' I'd usually scold myself for doin', but I'm thankful for it tonight. Couldn't've fiddled with a lock and key to save my life with the state I'm in.
A stream of half-processed kwama eggs over salt rice stream from my lips as I keel over in the foyer. Wipin' my mouth with my sleeve, I stagger into bed, fully clothed, and wrap the sheets around me so tightly I dunno if I'll be able to untangle myself in the mornin'. But it doesn't matter. Nothin' does except the grave I've dug up in my mind. A grave where my father should lay, but doesn't. A grave filled with choices I made, and nothin' to show for 'em.
Posted Thu at 04:05 am
· Last edited Thu at 4:26