Slates (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ex_slates758) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} utr_logs,@ 2008-12-29 19:54:00 |
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What: Getting their drink on
Where/When: A nameless pub in a nameless city/Tonight
Warnings: Possible
Impossible to pretend he didn't know the date. The fact the anniversary fell between Christmas and New Years, regardless if he celebrated, made it difficult to ignore. So he was, as the seven years before, melancholy and irritable, and wanting to get drunk. He remembered the first year, the first full year under the curse. He'd gotten so drunk he'd woken up face down in a back alley like a piece of trash. He hadn't stopped feeling that way, and he felt like he was just waiting for the garbage truck to come along and pick him up.
He was what he was. He couldn't change it, he had to accept it. He wasn't ashamed, though he didn't generally advertise. He took care to protect himself and innocent mortals would would be seen as a snack to his alter ego, when the moon rose full in the sky. He had awareness. Too much, sometimes, and it drove him half mad. The anniversary of his turning wasn't the only night he indulged in drink, but it was the one night he allowed himself to wallow in the misery of his plight.
This year, his recklessness extended to inviting a vampire to join him for drinks. not just any vampire. The famed and fabled Malakai Chmlyk, subject of much lore and legend among Slates' people. People, or animals, he wondered. Hrm. He'd have to ponder that. But, for the moment, he was scanning the street, looking for sign of the vampire who had killed his grandfather, and done the whole town a favor, back in the day, regardless of the brutality of the death and the contempt that spread like wide fire, giving more strength to the rift between weres and vamps.