InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Goin' down Hwy. 92!"

Lee (i_amfallen) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2008-12-24 21:25:00

Entry tags:

liandra, liz sherman

So this is Christmas. (Open to divine, formerly divine, semi-divine, and general humbug types.)
While most people celebrated their winter holiday of choice with family and friends, or at least with a TV or radio simulating that warmth, Lee worked on drinking herself blind at a bar. How could she not? The whole affair was like a perpetual reminder that she had been kicked out.

"Another one, and keep 'em coming," she told the bartender. He was only still serving her drinks because she had helped save his ass during that weird zombie attack, and even that gratefulness was wearing thin. She was drinking more than usual tonight, and no wonder. Where was her son? What was he doing right now, all these years after she had given him up? Did he hate the sappy-assed songs about snow and togetherness and all that crap as much as she did?

"You got any plans tonight, boss?" she mumbled skyward. She waited a minute, but no answer came. "Same to you," she said, turning her attention back to her drink and wishing for blessed unconsciousness.

God, she hated Christmas.

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	i_amfallen 2008-12-26 09:19 pm UTC (link)
	"'preciate a cigarette. Got my own beer." She patted the pocket of her heavy winter coat--she'd decided against going out wearing her Fallen Angel getup tonight. It wasn't a work night, after all. "Merry fuckin' Christmas," she added, as a good measure. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	i_burn 2008-12-27 08:06 pm UTC (link)
	Liz handed the woman a cigarette and offered her finger as a light. "Right back at you... want company?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

i_amfallen
2008-12-27 08:40 pm UTC (link)

Lee took the cigarette and was about to brush the woman off, but... she squinted at the lit finger. Yep, it was her finger and not some novelty lighter. "Well, now I do. Nifty trick." She lit it off of the woman's fingertip and took a deep drag. "'s better. Hey Dolf, another round."

"Ma'am, my name's not--"

"Look, just be Dolf for tonight, okay? It's motherfuckin' Christmas. I'll tip you extra."

"My name's Steve," the man mumbled, but he brought another pitcher anyway.

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