Who: El Wray and Open Where: Ice Room Bar When: Friday Night What: Drinks. Rating: At least PG because of what El Way could possibly say.
El Wray hadn't been at the resort for too long, but he already disliked it, not to mention that he missed the zombie invasion. That was something that he would have enjoyed, despite being pulled out of his world at the brink of his death. He had seen and been through almost everything, but he didn't want to accept that he was stuck in such a place. The looks that he recieved from customers had been enough for him to punch every single one of them; however, he didn't think anyone was wroth his time, except for one person. A person that knew how he worked to pit of his soul. It didn't matter the way that she decided to speak to him, spouting off the f-bomb with every other word that came from her lips. That was something that actually intreigued him. Anyone else would have to watch the way that they spoke to him or they would recieve a blunt tongue lashing in return.
It didn't seem by the way he acted on a daily basis, but he actually cared deeply for Cherry. His special Polomita. He wasn't one to publically display emotional attachment because of the despite to not end up hurt. Pushing back and showing the tougher side of him was how he rolled. It was taken in a different way all the time, but it barely phased him. He never cared much of other people's feelings. If they didn't want to hear any blunt sentences out of his mouth, then they were better off leaving him alone. The spot light wasn't his thing, nor was being in a special force in the army as well. He wanted those days over and be perfectly contant in his own little business. Of coruse, El Wray knew that he would never have that in his lifetime.
Taking a seat at the bar side within the Ice Room, El Wray thought it would be a presentable idea to check out the joint that he had been assigned to be security within. It didn't seem to be the most swinging place at the moment, which he was honestly thankful for. If Cherry was sitting next to him, she would have found something to complain about the area. That showed exactly how much he knew the foul-mouthed woman to the core. Picking his alcoholic drink was quiet easy, he waited only a few moments before the liquid was placed before him. It almost felt that it had been too long since he had downed anything. After all, he had been near death and there was hardly anytime to digest anything with a pack of infested army men running a muck and being pricks about it.
El Wray pulled the collar of his black jacket closer, before wrapping his fingers around the glass and pulled it towards him, hoping that it was a quiet night.