Δεῖμος - Keiran Fisher (that_deimos) wrote in peripeteia_rpg, @ 2009-06-27 00:04:00 |
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Current mood: | hopeful |
Entry tags: | deimos, dionysus |
Who: Keiran + Sam
What: Keiran seeks out Sam at his job.
Where: Karma
When: Evening.
Rating: PG-13, for now.
Status: Incomplete
Having a seemingly unlimited supply of alcohol was always a benefit for Keiran, a benefit he was going to have to stop exploiting so often (and so obviously) if he wanted to keep the boss-man in the dark about the whole operation. Despite this knowledge, he left the bar with two bottles of rum tucked away in the deep pockets of the dark, patterned cargo shorts he wore. Had anybody been paying attention to him, they would've noticed that instead of walking, he was being forced to waddle by the bottles...
Luckily, no one seemed to care what he was doing.
Tonight was one of his very few nights off, and while he'd seen Sam the night before, that invisible thread that seemed to connect the pair was tugging, bothering him until he finally told himself that he was off to Karma to see a man he hardly knew. Male dancers had never really appealed to him much, and he was unsure as to how seeing Sam dance would effect him... but none of that mattered. What mattered was that he had to see the flirtatious, handsome man. Tonight.
Stress was a feeling that rarely tensed Keiran's shoulders, and the man couldn't ever remember feeling butterflies stirring in his stomach. Not until now, at least.
By the time he got to karma, he'd doused and drowned the butterflies in rum, having finished the entirety of one of the bottles that he'd stolen. These nerves made him uncomfortable, and even though he was simply standing out side of the club, no where near Sam, he still felt a blush colouring his cheeks.
While he tried not to second-guess himself, while he got I.D.'d and passed through the seemingly endless line of bouncers and greeters he couldn't help but to think about how poorly dressed he was to be in a club. To go with the dark cargo shorts that he'd stashed his rum in, Keiran was wearing beat up, years old Vans and a simple, stone coloured wife-beater. No one in their right mind would consider it club attire...
Still, he pushed through the crowds, trying to figure out where to begin looking for Sam. Hopefully the man still wanted him to come... and hopefully he didn't mind seeing Keiran again so soon.