4chan & OPEN
4chan was not giving a fuck. He looked passable, he'd even venture to call himself handsome, a pale, boyish face peeking out from an overwhelming black, a red tie fastened around his neck that he itched at like a teenage boy on prom night, anxious to get it off. Fresh out of the basement, and back into the world, he had some solace in both Rei-chan and Junko, which seemed appropriate, really, 4chan and his Anime and Manga were often inseparable.
But for the moment, 4chan was inseparable from his comfortable little bar stool that he'd so leisurely slathered himself into, elbows up on the bar, a specimen of bad manners and inexperience. He was delighted to find something to drink- a nice raspberry concoction, and took his time trying not to drool at the bartender. Fuck, he'd been running into more and more attractive people as of late. He wondered if this was a New York thing or a god thing, or...just his perception warping over time. Something like that. He wasn't going to think too hard about it.
However, there was still the issue with Tumblr, and her little cloud of pretention to deal with. He hadn't spotted her yet, but he kept a good look out over his glass for anyone that vaguely resembled her.
Still, there was that itch of not fitting in. 4chan wasn't a gala person. Maybe Anime was, or Manga, they were both beautiful, if not a little nerdy. There was attention there. But 4chan, was just the weird guy at the bar. Stuck somewhere between not giving a fuck where he was, and giving one too many, not wanting to act out and not being able to behave, he sort of hoped someone else would show up. Maybe just someone to step out and have a cigarette or something with. Did Anime smoke? He'd have to ask.