Fear and Loathing in Genosha Characters: Sabertooth, OTA looking for some lively interaction Setting: Genosha, Toughest Bar on the Island Content: R for language, drinking, and drugs (He's crazy as hell and doesn't give a sh*#) Summary: Victor gets f@&%ed up and makes new friends. Somehow :P
The only reason the morons around him weren't dead was because Lensherr had made it clear that he wasn't allowed to kill anyone on Genosha. So instead, Victor had focused on enjoying his new-found freedom in other ways. Disappearing into the jungle moments after arriving, he gave into his instincts for two straight weeks. He ran until his hands and feet bled, he hunted in the jungle depths, he'd even found himself some tail in the form of some co-eds he'd stumbled upon camping. Apparently saving girls from a rabid panther had its perks.
But after two weeks, now it was time for some more <i>refined</i> entertainment. So he'd made his way back to civilization, set up shop in "Chosen Ones" and gotten to drinking. He'd had to beat up some of the roughneck regulars, but that was how things went. He'd proven he was top dog, and they respected him for it. He downed a triple whiskey, and sucked down a cigarette like they were candy. He leaned forward and tapped out a massive line of blow. He was already high on more shit than he could remember, but this stuff didn't last on him thanks to his healing factor. Reclining in his plush booth, he let the high wash over him.
"Ten years...ten fucking years..." Victor croaked to himself.