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Week Eleven: Saturday
When: Night
Where: Barking Spider Tavern
Who: Bastian - Narrative
Eighteen. The little girl he remembered long before she could even talk was now considered an adult. No longer a kid. No longer a child. He’d missed it all. All those important years before this. Bastian wore a smile all through Thursday night. He cheered for her on the stage; pride was evident in his features. But beneath that smile was always that hint of sadness. That harsh reality that was placed before him all too clearly. Sometimes the rage for that reality was all too thick. It choked him as he tried to keep calm. As he tried, tried so hard, to give them reassurance that things would be alright. The problem was that he couldn’t believe that. Not like he wanted to.
Tonight Bastian was at the bar, behind the counter and yet barely even aware of what was going on. He’d spilled two drinks, dropped a bottle, cut himself on the glass. Jokes were made that he didn’t even seem to hear, requests lost in the haze of thoughts. A few had asked if he was alright, the answer of just having an off night seemed to sedate them. Everyone had those now and again right? Waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Bastian wished it was that simple. That tomorrow would wipe all these thoughts away. But nothing did. Everyday it was the same.
That feeling in his gut. That twisted dread that couldn’t be calmed. He could feel her still. That bitch writhing around in his veins, tugging at the blood she’d forced him to take. Was she still outside of the city? He didn’t know…but there was a part of him that didn’t believe so.
Bastian sighed, running a hand back through his hair and taking a shot of whiskey that had been poured for another but now was his. The bite, the burn, wasn’t near enough tonight. Never seemed to be. “Hey…” the guy muttered, Bastian didn’t even give him glance. He just grabbed up another glass, filled it, and slid it across the table top to him. The man gave him an odd glance but took the drink and set his cash down on the table for it. No tip. No surprise.
Most likely wished old John was there instead. But John was at home, passed out in his bed by Bastian’s demand of it. His old man was wearing himself too damned thin. He needed to take care of himself, needed to start watching how much he slept and see to his health. He of course tried to wave Bastian’s worry off but Bastian wasn’t having any of it. On a typical night Bastian could handle the bar just fine on his own. Tonight the extra hands might have been helpful. But he’d deal with it, at least the Saturday was slow so far.
“Hey can we turn this up…” a guy remarked, looking up at the tv in the bar and the flash of the news screen. “Earlier today a woman was viciously attacked by a dog…” Bastian sighed, shaking his head. The full moon was near; stories like these always became more prominent. “No.” Bastian retorted blankly, making the man narrow his eyes once more at him. “Why not?” Bastian didn’t even really give him a reply. Just a shake of his head before he changed the channel all together. The guy huffed and walked out. Good.
Where: Barking Spider Tavern
Who: Bastian - Narrative
Eighteen. The little girl he remembered long before she could even talk was now considered an adult. No longer a kid. No longer a child. He’d missed it all. All those important years before this. Bastian wore a smile all through Thursday night. He cheered for her on the stage; pride was evident in his features. But beneath that smile was always that hint of sadness. That harsh reality that was placed before him all too clearly. Sometimes the rage for that reality was all too thick. It choked him as he tried to keep calm. As he tried, tried so hard, to give them reassurance that things would be alright. The problem was that he couldn’t believe that. Not like he wanted to.
Tonight Bastian was at the bar, behind the counter and yet barely even aware of what was going on. He’d spilled two drinks, dropped a bottle, cut himself on the glass. Jokes were made that he didn’t even seem to hear, requests lost in the haze of thoughts. A few had asked if he was alright, the answer of just having an off night seemed to sedate them. Everyone had those now and again right? Waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Bastian wished it was that simple. That tomorrow would wipe all these thoughts away. But nothing did. Everyday it was the same.
That feeling in his gut. That twisted dread that couldn’t be calmed. He could feel her still. That bitch writhing around in his veins, tugging at the blood she’d forced him to take. Was she still outside of the city? He didn’t know…but there was a part of him that didn’t believe so.
Bastian sighed, running a hand back through his hair and taking a shot of whiskey that had been poured for another but now was his. The bite, the burn, wasn’t near enough tonight. Never seemed to be. “Hey…” the guy muttered, Bastian didn’t even give him glance. He just grabbed up another glass, filled it, and slid it across the table top to him. The man gave him an odd glance but took the drink and set his cash down on the table for it. No tip. No surprise.
Most likely wished old John was there instead. But John was at home, passed out in his bed by Bastian’s demand of it. His old man was wearing himself too damned thin. He needed to take care of himself, needed to start watching how much he slept and see to his health. He of course tried to wave Bastian’s worry off but Bastian wasn’t having any of it. On a typical night Bastian could handle the bar just fine on his own. Tonight the extra hands might have been helpful. But he’d deal with it, at least the Saturday was slow so far.
“Hey can we turn this up…” a guy remarked, looking up at the tv in the bar and the flash of the news screen. “Earlier today a woman was viciously attacked by a dog…” Bastian sighed, shaking his head. The full moon was near; stories like these always became more prominent. “No.” Bastian retorted blankly, making the man narrow his eyes once more at him. “Why not?” Bastian didn’t even really give him a reply. Just a shake of his head before he changed the channel all together. The guy huffed and walked out. Good.