Ashley Christian Harper (justwithmymind) wrote in darkcarnivale, @ 2011-06-05 21:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | ashley harper, faelan |
Who: Ashley and Faelan
Where: A random bar in the current town the Carnival is in at the moment.
When: Evening, after the carnival has closed for the night
What: Drinks with a friend?
Rating: Low/Mild
Status: In Progress
Ashley loved bars. In America, they were always filled with interesting - and hot - people who were just drunk enough to find the fact that their drinks keep magically moving to the left whenever they want to drink something utterly hilarious. It also meant that they were easy to steal from, a quick five-fingered discount that had wallets floating towards Ashley to be emptied before dropped on the floor. Sometimes he’d lift it up and offer it to the drunk patron with a blinding smile and a wink and a quick flirt before being on his way to the other side of the bar to buy himself drinks with money that wasn’t his. He liked that element.
Tonight, though, he was just settling for causing mischief. His hat sat low on his head and the atmosphere of the club made the blood pound in his veins, feeling the pulse of those around him. It was approaching euphoric.
He didn’t think anyone from the Carnival would be out tonight, not that it would be a bad thing if they were, but sometimes Ashley just wanted to ‘steal’ money the fair way. Pool sharking was always fun. He had already lost four rounds and had convinced the guys to play best of five. He leaned against the pool cue idly, chewing on the edge of his fingernail, eyes sharp and watching the people around him. He was halfway through winning this game, just a twitch of his eyebrow and the line-up that should have been a perfect shot just went awry, the green bouncing off the side and knocking into one of the striped balls that Ashley had claimed as his own.
“Too bad, man,” he laughed, taking a sip of his beer and lining up a shot, cleaning out the table in a few easy moves. He snatched up the money and wadded it up into his jacket pocket. “Sorry- that’s how the cookie crumbles, blokes.” He chuckled and scratched underneath the brim of his hat at the outrage that lifted from their voices.
Maybe it was time to get away from the pool table. He took a couple of steps backwards, heading back towards the bar, hoping to find someone to keep him company for a little while. He indicated for another beer from the tender and hopped up onto a bar stool, content to listen to the music for now, until at least someone caught his attention.
“Bloody fuck,” he muttered, keeping his head ducked as the blokes from before walked past, looking for some kind of trouble in order to make up for the fact that they’d lost all their money to a cheating, skinny Englishman.