dont_need_magic (dont_need_magic) wrote in uprisingrpg, @ 2011-05-12 16:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | angela clarke, kirley duke |
Who: Angela and Duke
What: Shenanigans!
When: Friday night
Where: Random bar
Warnings: It's these two. Take a probable gander.
Status: Incomplete
Angela didn't mope. Whenever she felt the urge to mope, she went out instead, and surrounded herself by dozens of loud, alive, dancing bodies. Whether she joined them or not, it was always invigorating, and gave her something to look at. The songs changed over the years, as did the popular spots. This particular venue was in its third incarnation, termed Random (which was an urge to be ironic or something she supposed), and had over the course of its life waxed and waned in popularity. It was middling, at the moment, not so popular that at her age Angela felt uncomfortable.
Also, the drinks had maintained their quality, which kept her coming back.
She didn't know what she was looking for tonight. Although she was never averse to taking somebody to bed, Angela derived nearly as much pleasure from people watching, and there was much to watch, to take her mind off of her life and its problems, small though they may have been. Listening to some people talk, Angela reminded herself of a teenager who was convinced that her life was ruined over the small matter of a ruined skirt.
But for the most part she liked her lack of responsibility and chastised herself for feeling something as depressing as guilt.
She leaned back and looked around speculatively, noting with amusement that her outfit was actually verging on conservative, despite her dress only hitting mid-thigh. Granted, part of that was that she had a distinct lack of cleavage to show off to begin with, but it still amused her. She ordered herself another drink and on impulse looked down the bar to see a pretty young (but not too young) man ordering a whiskey sour. She smiled at him and put down some money, "It's on me."
"Enjoy." She lifted her drink towards him a bit and took a sip.
Alcohol solved most of life's ills. Or at least made it so you couldn't remember them.