no class no shirt no taste and shitfaced [Saphy] (Read 364 times)

[Hakkai]

Most small towns tend to develop a character of their own, which is often more pronounced than the kind of character larger, wealthier cities might express. In the case of Onibas, the personality in question revolved around its theatre. The venue was one of the town's two main attractions, often frequented by patrons of the thespian arts from all over Fiore. Its presence had fostered a very strong theatrical scene in Onibas, with several acting workshops and drama schools springing up around it. Yes, you could say Onibas was the classiest, artsiest settlement on the road between Magnolia and Clover Town.

So why would such a classy, artsy place draw someone like Hakkai, who heartily believed that Epic Chow Time, Brawlmania, Everybody Loves Aldrich and other shows of that nature on the human lacrimavision were the highest forms of popular entertainment?

Simple. The reason was the town's other major attraction - the mages' bar, where you could order practically any drink no matter how volatile the ingredients (individually or mixed), and be guaranteed swift service, an understanding bartender, and the hangover of your fucking life in the morning.

Hakkai was happily gulping down a tall glass of Slow Death - Neverclear, Hakobemeister, Galuna Comfort, Meshki rum and Radiance Schnapps all mixed together into a liquid bomb that did exactly what it said on the menu. It was the kind of drink that slowly works itself upwards through your body, gently taking away control of your legs, your arms and your mouth, until the liquor finally converges on your brain and it's buh-bye, Mister Frontal Lobe.

Hakkai was halfway through his second and he was currently enjoying the lovely, tingling feeling of mid-to-advanced tipsiness. Life didn't get any better than this. Was there any better way, he'd ask the room if he wasn't busy so guzzling down his drink, to wash down a dozen of the dirtiest, sleaziest hotdogs you ever saw?

Well, yeah, it could be better, come to think of it. It'd be nice if he had a little honey on hand to squeeze, someone to get his fire going. Unfortunately, they seemed to be a little thin on the ground tonight. Probably they'd got wind he was hanging out here regularly now. Oh, well - maybe it was time to move onto the next place, try his luck there. Not that he was complaining, mind you. It was pretty fuckin' sweet here right now.

Food, booze and women. Two out of three ain't bad. He downed the rest of the Slow Death. It was a pig's life, and Hakkai was loving every second of it.

"'Eeey," he called, his speech just a little slurred. "Bar-guy! C'mere, ol' friend, ol' pal. Gimme another one! Ow." Hakkai winced slightly as he banged the glass down on the counter. The sound made his brain squirm. "Second thoughts. I reckon this one's goin' to my head a lil' bit. Gimme a tequila shot instead, no lemon or salt. I feel like mellowin' my poison some."

[Leanna S. Grobain]

- - - - -

Growing up in Onibas wasn't so bad. In fact, Onibas was voted as only second to the top tier five star Akane Resort in the Sorcerer's Bimonthly magazine, in their travels section. Though it wasn't a given that most students took arts during their high school tenure, it certainly had been encouraged. For one Leanna Seattle Grobain, growing up in a family that was practically born for the music industry, it was only a matter of time before she made her claim to fame. And she did, but at the cost of dropping out at the very last month before graduation, due to the uprising of her band's status.

Oh how everything could change in the blink of an eye. It started with a bit of drama after recording several albums and a few years of touring, then it ended with violence. And the news of said violence spread like wildfire. It also didn't help that both her parents' lives were ended in a freak train accident. And the only form of comfort that she managed to procure during these harsh periods of her life, were alcohol, and subsequently, drugs.

Its been this way for years now, the same old routine. Whenever she'd audition for a record label, she'd get rejected almost immediately, having the executives telling her she's not what they're looking for. Because she's unorthodox, dirty, and she's not a good role model for the young kids of the current generation. Yes, she's told that, because half the people that were on television now aren't already wearing skimpy clothes and grinding their pelvises against their backup dancers. But alas, she still had to make due with what she had.

A bag of dope ain't cheap, and a bag of heroin was worse.

Still, day in and day out, for almost six years now, the girl performed in bars every night, selling her EPs and just hoping that one day, she might actually get a break. Her supporters back then had all turned their backs on her the moment those tabloids confirmed rumors of her being a druggie. So much for 'I love you and I'll always support you forever!', huh? Then again, she has no one else to blame but herself for being in this predicament to begin with. Well, maybe her old record label had something to do with it, and that made her realize just how blood stained and dangerous the music industry can be, but ultimately, she succumbed to it, and was blinded by all the false claims and promises, all the while being led straight to the heart of the lion's den without her realizing it.

And so, after securing herself a few packs of cigarettes, the former rockstar headed towards her usual place, despite knowing that no one would even give a shit that she was performing that night. Hell, the only reason she still had a place to perform was because she knew the owner and bartender of the place from her high school days, and still kept in contact with him. She knew that, despite what the guy claimed, she wouldn't have had a job if it weren't for him. Hell, the guy even offered her free alcohol whenever she performed, and she knew for a fact that she'd drink more than she was worth. And it wasn't until a couple years ago when she discovered something that would bag her some fast cash that she shortened her gigs by a couple of days, because.. in spite of what that job meant for her pride and dignity, she needed the money to get her what she deemed a necessity.

But on this night, there wasn't anything planned. Sure, she'd be singing for a few hours, get high, and perform some more; she just wasn't planning on doing anything in that 'other' line of work. With a cigarette wedged between her lips, Leanna headed walked in through the front doors and immediately headed towards the back. She had a small grocery bag full of copies of her new EP that she herself recorded a couple months back, and if she was lucky, there would be around three or four people that would consider purchasing it for a small discount. Otherwise, the only thing she'd do backstage, was get drunk and get high, but she couldn't get high without a bag of weed, which was disappointing.

Within fifteen minutes or so, the girl finally decided to head out; guitar on hand, to the small stage area where the amplifiers and microphone had already been hooked up, since no one even bothered to do anything with it, seeing as she was one of the only performers in this bar. Nonetheless, it made her job that much easier, as all she needed to do is hook up the amplifier to her guitar and switch the power on, which she did.

"Check, check." All in all, the girl's voice was almost exactly what one would expect, matching the frame and features of her body. Usually, she's very softspoken, and maybe that's the appealing part about her. Especially when she belts out those powerful high notes that makes everyone's skin tingle. But well, she wasn't scheduled to perform yet, so she had some time to mingle around, which was exactly why she chose to stay put and wait it out. Leanna wasn't a conversationalist, and she wouldn't ever be caught dead initiating a short talk, even with those that she knew.

She was, however, craving a drink. And a smoke.

WORDS: words
TAG: person
SPELLS: spells
NOTES: lalala

[Hakkai]

"I don't think you should drink any more, friend," the bartender replied, evenly. It was his special bartender tone, perfected after years on the job. It was mild and unaggressive while at the same being only the appropriate amount of firm and pointed. In short, it was the best kind of tone to use on someone who was refusing to stop getting progressively more drunk and looked like they might be about to cause trouble soon. And if the tone didn't work, he had something else firm and pointy under the bar. To be exact, it was a baseball bat with a nail through it. People sometimes ignored the tone, but when the bat was brought out the never failed to get the point.

He called it Big Baby, after a line in a movie. Maybe it wasn't a gun, but he still got a chuckle out of telling troublemakers 'You woke up the Baby' before whacking them over the head.

"Aw relax, I'm payin' up front ain't I?" said Hakkai, waving a hand dismissively. He stopped for a moment and watched the motions of his fingers, as if he'd never seen such miraculous appendiges before. He shook his head and turned back to the barman. "I wouldn't insult ya by askin' ya to put this shit on a tab."

It was true. Hakkai might make a habit of pigging out at every fast food joint or watering hole he came across, often in amounts that vastly exceeded the human body's ability to deal with, but he never failed to pay up before he passed out. Hakkai was very rarely strapped for cash. He could dish it out as well as he could put it away. His frequent stints as a chef, whether at a burrito joint or the less picky type of gourmet restaurant tended to keep him in pocket, and when he didn't have the money to indulge in luxuries, like dishes teeming with so much fat and the promise of cholesterol it'd make your arteries scream to look at them, Hakkai would eat anything to keep going. Anything.

As if to prove his point, Hakkai reached into his pocket and plonked the exact amount of jewels his next drink would cost down on the counter. The bartender eyed the money, then looked up at Hakkai with his eyebrows raised. "Yeah, that's what worrying me. With most other people we have to prise the money outta their cold dead hands if they've had a quarter of the kinda poison you've been sloshing down." His tone didn't change, and he didn't reach for the bat. He was keeping his hands busy, scrubbing out glasses. But he was surreptitiously examining the pupils of Hakkai's eyes, to see if they were dilating.

Hakkai shrugged. "'Ey, what can I see. Say." He paused, held up a hand as if to forestall further questions, opened his mouth wide as a hippo's, and let out a belch that shook the ceiling. For a few moments, the smell of gutrot alcohol filled the immediate vicinity. Then it soaked into the walls to join the fumes of its long-lost cousins and vanished. Hakkai thumped a fist against his chest, twice. "Brruuuuup. Sorry. What can I say, man. I'm runnin' on a full stomach an' I got a good head for my liquor."

"Your funeral," the bartender muttered, shaking his head and reaching for the tequila and a shot glass.

"Yes it is my funeral!" Hakkai exclaimed, looking delighted. He leaned as far back in his stool as he could go without falling over, and spread his arms, hollering out at the bar in general. "And you're alllll invited! Imma have an open bar arranged an' everythang!" He pointed at the bartender. "An' you can be in charge, bar-guy! How 'bout it, huh?!"

The artender smiled neutrally, and passed him the shot glass. "Sure, pal. Here's your tequila."

Hakkai took it with clumsy grace, and waved it around a bit, grinning angelically at the bartender. "Thaaaaaanks. You're one in a million, brother, take it from me." With that, he tipped his head back and emptied the shot down his throat. It was like liquid fire, but it felt sooo good when the heat of it hit his gut and sent fumes up to his brain. Hakkai sighed contentedly, belched again, and set the shot glass down, blinking around happily at the room.

Then the night improved by a factor of ten to the power of a fuckload.

There was a girl on the small stage area, messing around with the unused amplifiers and microphone. Hakkai stared her up and down, and found himself nodding enthusiastically. Fuckin' A. Sweet body, hair that made him think of bubblegum, rocker clothes, and she looked just unkempt enough for even that to be appealing. Cute voice, too. Hakkai grinned as the girl did her 'check, check' routine on the mic. "Check it out, more like," he muttered, not loud to keep it to himself. He turned to stare at the bartender, and gave him two thumbs up. "Live fuckin' entertainment, that's what I'm talkin' about. Nice, man. Fuckin' excellent!"

"You watch yourself," the bartender growled, briefly dropping his friendly-calm-and-cool bartender act and scowling. "I see you trying to pull any creepy shit with that girl and you're out on your ass."

Hakkai contrived to look hurt. "Pffbffbbt. Me? Creepy shit? I'm hurt, man, I am hurt. I ain't doin' no creepy shit. I'm just gonna go work some of my animal magnetism, ya get me?" Hakkai reached over and slapped the bartender on the shoulder, then turned to follow the girl's progress off the stage and into the crowd. It quickly became apparent that she was heading for the bar, too. Hakkai quickly adjusted his beanie, sidled closer, leaned with his back against the bar, and offered her his most winning smile. "Hey, babes. You look how I feel, and I'm feelin' like I need one more drink to really get the show rollin'."

He snapped his fingers. "Hey bar-guy, get us two of whatever the artist wants."

The bartender rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Animal magnetism my ass," he grunted, under his breath.

[Leanna S. Grobain]

- - - - -

More often than not, the stage remained unused, and for good reason. Some of the people who came here for a drink end up getting themselves as buzzed as they possibly could, and most of the time, whomever's on stage gets to pay the price for it. Local rock bands used to own the stage a couple years ago, and Leanna remembered that she and her band had been one of the first, and they even developed a cult following because of this place. Maybe that's why the owner still hasn't kicked her out, despite her never-ending thirst for liquor and her usual tendencies to get as drunk as the average rockstar, to the point of her not being able to remember how she even got home by the next morning, or what she did during that period of time.

The hookups were pretty easy, since the amplifier still had her previous settings. Occasionally, there would be some up and coming artist whom was willing to risk having a stone cold bottle thrown at his face to get a break and earn some cash, but most nights, when she's not working her other shifts, Leanna considers this to be her job. All the equipment were set up in a way that was rather normal - the drum set in the back; the bass amplifier on the left; a couple of guitar amplifiers on the right; and a couple of mic stands set up for the backing and lead vocalists. Of course, there were those artists whom preferred using digital technology to enhance their performances, but Leanna hated it, just like how she hates her band now.

Backstabbing bitches, or so she proclaimed them to be. The five of them were in the same school, in the same grade, and hell, they grew up together. She considered them to be her best friends. Her only friends. Sure, they've had their ups and downs during the course of the early days of their band, but no matter what, they'd band together and pull through. They even went so far as to promise each other that, no matter what, they'd be there for each other. If the band didn't work out, they'd still be friends. If they wouldn't ever get signed to a record label, they'd still be satisfied with what they were doing. Making music wasn't about the money, it was about making the fans happy, and to make sure they've gotten their money's worth each time they pay for their tickets to see them, whether if its fifty people, five hundred people, or even fifty thousand people.

And they kicked her out of the band, but for what? Because she had a mindset that was too innovative for the record label's executives to understand? Because her demands were too high? Or was it because she was going through some tough times in her life, dealing with a severe depression after her parents died? All she wanted was to record the next album on a tape machine, instead of using those digital consoles. She wanted the band to sound as natural and as authentic as she could possibly make it.F

After she made sure everything on the stage was set and ready to go, Leanna fished a cig from her pocket and walked over to the bar. Cameron, the bartender, was seemingly busy speaking to one of his customers, but that customer, however, looked hammered. According to her thoughts, this was probably going to be one of those moments where he'd have to wake up his precious Big Baby. If he did, it would be a hell of a lot more entertaining if she managed to get herself wasted first. It wouldn't be the first time she's seen him whacking someone's skull with it, and it wouldn't be the last time someone's brains had been partially spilled on the floor, either.

The beanie headed guy's most winning smile, however, went completely ignored. Leanna even opted to sit as far away from him as she possibly could, without giving Cameron a hard time walking around talking to the both of them, anyway, so it wasn't exactly as far as she hoped. But it wouldn't hurt for him to actually do as his customer asked, despite knowing that he gave the girl free drinks every time she performed. It wouldn't, but it wasn't his style, either. As good of a man as he was, and as big of a wimp as he was back in high school, he wasn't the type of guy for her. And he knew that. Leanna was glad that he was able to move on and actually found another girl that would prove him with the happiness that she couldn't have dreamed of giving.

"Heya, Lea."

"You got a lighter, Cam? I'm all out."

With the cigarette still wedged between her mouth, Leanna rolled it around, just to prove a point. She did hear an aforementioned sentence regarding some sort of 'animal magnetism', but she chose to let it slide. It wouldn't be the first time she's gotten hit on by a customer, and it wouldn't be the last time she's had to borrow Big Baby for a good home run. After rummaging through one of his drawers, he picked up a lighter and tossed it towards her. She should have actually seen this coming by now, since this is pretty much a routine greeting between the two of them, and hell, she even managed to catch it during the first few times. But in recent months, her health hasn't been top notch, and she'd be lucky if it smacked her on the forehead and landed on her lap. "The usual?"

"The usual." Cameron has made it very clear that the only reason he's even allowing her to drink was because he made her a promise from the start. Granted, he could just break it and not offer her anything to drink, but he knew for a fact that she'd be able to get them somewhere else. All in all, he was a loyal friend to almost anyone who respected him. All in all, he was the only person Leanna still considers a friend.

Slowly, the girl wrapped her fingers around the lighter and slowly lifted it up. One could clearly see that her hands were shaking, and she was having a pretty hard time triggering the mechanism that would cause the spark, and subsequently light up the lighter itself. Another symptom of withdrawals, and that alone was enough to draw a worried look from the bartender, despite his whole facade of a tough guy gimmick. After a few minutes of fumbling around, she finally managed to light up her cigarette, which she would then take a huge, smoke-filled puff. She had been smoking since she was only sixteen years old, and by now, she wouldn't even exhale the second hand smoke. She'd just breathe it all in.

"Y'know, if you keep this up, Imma have to make this place a no-smoking zone."

"..Fuck you and your no-smoking zone."

WORDS: words
TAG: person
SPELLS: spells
NOTES: lalala

[Hakkai]

Hakkai was pretty much used to every reaction in the book by now. He was under no illusions. He was no Casanova and he wasn't trying to be. He never modified his behaviour and tried to project something fake in order to woo the ladies. Unfortunately, that meant they invariably ended up getting a crash course in the crass, perverted pig known as Hakkai, and would then invariably proceed to get the hell out of there as quickly as possible.

He'd been shut down, screamed at, doused with drinks, punched, kicked in the tenders, and even ignored, just like this chick was doing now. We're talking totally ignored too. She wouldn't even glance in his direction and it was clear she was trying to keep a healthy distance between the two of them. The yokai felt a twich of annoyance through the thick blanket of alcoholic vapours that was currently clogging his brain. Man, he just could not catch a break, could he? He'd been positive that charm he'd picked up off that little old lady'd bring him some better luck, even though she'd giggled nastily as he handed her the money. It even had a frigging four leaf clover on it.

"Damn, babes, that's friggin' cold," he groaned, pushing his back away from the bar and turning to take a seat again, propping his chin on his knuckles. Oh, well. Another notch on the 'no fucks gotten' bedpost. Nothing to get worked up about. Hakkai's sexual appetites might be more than a match for his gluttony, but he never let disappointment get him down for long. It was just not in his nature to let stuff like this depress him. Why waste time moping around when you could be enjoying yourself?

"Told you. Don't even bother," Cam told him, quietly.

Hakkai shrugged, grudgingly accepting the truth of the bartender's words. "Eeeeeh. No biggie. Give us the drinks, c'mon." True to his word, he pulled out the price of the two drinks and slid it across the bar. Cam took it without comment, and went over to mix the undisclosed 'usual'. Hakkai realized he was starting to slide off his seat, and quickly righted himself. Whatever the case, he was actually curious to see what the 'usual' was.

He didn't have to wait long. Cam obviously had practice at mixing it. Hakkai blinked down at his glass for a few moments, then picked it up and looked at it more closely. He took a sip, and worked his mouth for a few moments before letting out a quiet burp. "Whiskey an' coke on the rocks? Daaamn. That's a new one on me. I hope it was cheap whiskey - Cam? Is your name Cam? Sorry, I suck at rememberin' dudes' names."

"Doesn't surprise me," Cam retorted, raising a sardonic eyebrow. "And you wouldn't insult me by suggesting I'd mix a single malt with coke, would you?"

Hakkai frowned at him, and waved a hand in a placatory gesture. "Naaaw. C'mon, man, it was a joke. A joke, ya know? I say somethin' funny an' then ya laugh? No? Ah, fuck it. With that said..." He tilted the glass up, and downed the rest of the glass with one swallow. He even crunched the icecubes. When he emerged again, he had the dumbest shit-eating grin plastered across his face. The room was swimming all around him. He put the glass down with unnecessary force. "Fuck yeah, this is my kinda drink."

Cam gave him a cool look. "Well, I'm glad to hear that, 'cause it's your last one tonight."

"Whaaaaaaa'?!" Hakkai yelped, and nearly fell of his chair. It took him several seconds of fumbling and cursing to sit back up straight, and he had to steady himself by gripping the bar with both hands.

"Yeah, you're cut off," Cam said, absently wiping another glass.

"C'moooooooon, Cal, be a pal."

"It's Cam."

"Sorry. C'mooooooooooooon, Cam, be a pal."

"I've been your pal all evening," the bartender said, a note of warning entering his tone. He reached a hand under the bar, and gave Hakkai a meaningful look. The yokai, who currently bore a thoroughly convincing resemblance to a plastered twenty year-old in a white beanie and a biker's jacket, stared back at him uncomprehendingly. Cam sighed, and pulled the Big Baby out, tapping the tip of the nail gently against the bar. "How about you be my pal now, and don't force me to evict you by way of batting your ass outta here?"

Hakkai leaned back as far as he could go without toppling backwards, staring at the makeshift weapon. "Daaaamn. Point taken," he muttered, eventually. He squinted up at Cam. "Y'know, for such a soft-spoken guy, you're seriously in touch with your inner psycho." His eyes suddenly widened, and he pointed an accusing finger at the bartender. "Waaaaait a second. That's one of the symptoms, ain't it?! In the movies it's the quiet ones ya gotta watch!"

The corners of Cam's mouth twitched upward slightly. "Your words, friend, not mine."

Hakkai stared at his for a few more moments, then shook his head. "Bleh." He pushed the empty glass towards Cam, who took without further comment and put the Big Baby away again. With the matter of Hakkai being cut off settled, the yokai focused his attention back on the girl. He didn't really plan on trying to hit on her again - he was too hammered for that, he was pretty certain if he tried to stand up right now he'd just fall over and end up in Slumberland. That didn't mean no looking, though.

He noticed right away how badly her hands were shaking as she tried to light up a cigarette. It took her several minutes to succeed. All the while Hakkai watched her in silence, his brow slightly furrowed as he tried to concentrate through his wobbly vision. Nerves? Exhaustion? Or something else? Normally Hakkai didn't spare much of a thought for anyone other than himself, but women and little kiddies were an exception. It was a pain in the ass more than anything else. What was the point of being brought back into existense as a gluttonous, lecherous pig monster in a world where everything he craved was in ready supply, and being given a wimpy soft heart to fuck the whole thing up?

"So is it a one-woman show or wha'?" he slurred out eventually, resting his head on his arms. Yeah, he was officially done trying to chase tail for tonight, at least until someone who didn't look like they might have serious fuckin' issues showed up.

[Leanna S. Grobain]

- - - - -

Well, at least this whole conversation proved to be an interesting one. As much as Leanna despised people who eavesdropped in on her conversations, she herself could prove to be a bit nosy at times, but mostly because she was somewhat ADHD without a good old bag of weed to calm her nerves. It wasn't often for Cameron to speak to his customers like this, so if you were selected, you were either one hell of an interesting guy, or one hell of a weirdo. Either way, he was still having his fair share of fun, despite putting up that tough guy look he took so many years to perfect. Leanna and her band members used to be the ones who kept this place from imploding, especially with a variety of customers ranging from the mafia, to renowned criminals, to drug dealers and underground crime bosses packing the place with their respective groups of people, and often times, they attracted the attention of oncoming Rune Knights, because the police had one of their surveillance cameras installed in this facility. Thankfully, not around the backstage area, since she herself would've been arrested for smoking too much weed.

Yes, arresting people for smoking weed, while there's mass murderers out there somewhere, plotting the next catastrophic movements. And from what she's heard, there's also apparently some dead people roaming around, though she has yet to see one for herself, it certainly would be an interesting sight after having some good hash. As many times as she had contemplated ending her life, getting her body chomped on by an undead rotting corpse and subsequently turning into one herself wasn't such a fun thing, and considering all those zombie movies that she's seen, it sure didn't look pleasant for the victims either.

Nonetheless, the girl downed her drink as soon as it arrived, in a matter of seconds, with minor difficulty lifting and holding the whiskey glass to her lips. That is perhaps the only task that her arms wouldn't give her any issues with, probably because it knew that whenever she downed any instances of liquid, it was alcohol. Heck, it had been more than three whole years since the girl had a drop of H2O, unless said H2O is frozen into blocks of solidified frozen goodness to lower the temperatures of those liver-destroying, kidney-disintegrating, brain cell-reducing delights.

"Can you fix me a quick cherry bomb before I start?"

"I'm keepin' a tab on how much you're drinking tonight, Lea. Don't overdo it." Of course, her request wouldn't ever be complete without a worrying warning on his behalf. Leanna had her ways of bypassing the whole thing, and she was possibly the only person in existence that could ever get him to keep pouring drinks for her, in spite of how drunk she may be at the time. It wasn't a healthy habit, that's for sure, but she wasn't known to live the life of a healthy fitness model, anyway. She's in her mid twenties, and although she didn't look the part, the internal functions of her body probably resembled that of a sixty year old grandmother. Maybe even worse. Ah well. "And you'll see it when you see it, friend. But if you throw up on my floor, you'd best intend on cleaning it."

And so, Cameron plopped back into his bartending expertise, pulling out a few ounces of tequila, orange and lime liquor, along with a bit of pure cherry extract. It was more of a fun drink than one that would get you hammered, but having one too many of these would ultimately provide anyone with the same results. The name itself wasn't the most masculine thing in the world, but she'll be damned if someone told her it wasn't tasty, because that shit was the bomb. It was Leanna's poison of choice for when she just wanted to drink for the sake of drinking, not for the sake of regretting it the next morning when she wakes up feeling like a grenade had just exploded in her skull.

She took her time with this glass, choosing to take it over with her towards the stage instead of downing it as fast as she could. As drunk and as fucked up she'd probably be by the end of the night, she loved her alcohol enough to savor the taste instead of chugging it like a blank headed moron. The whole whiskey-coke shot at the beginning was just to warm up her vocals. And to get her in the mood. Some people did vocal exercises, some have their own techniques of opening up their vocal chords, and Leanna had booze.

As she plopped down on the plastic stool and set her drink down right on top of one of the unused teleprompters, the girl began checking each string of her guitar, just to make sure that its correctly tuned to the tone that she wanted. Sure, she could have used a tuner for that instead of the manual way, but what's the use of that when you're supposedly a music prodigy? She started learning how to play the piano at age three, picked up her first guitar at age five, held her first pair of drumsticks at age ten, played violin for the first time at age twelve, and at age fifteen, composed, sang and recorded her first EP, all from her Dad's garage. And since she couldn't really perform in bars and jazz clubs until the age of eighteen, she occupied herself with random performances in malls, subways, and crowded street corners to gain experience.

Once the desired tuning had been set up, the girl took a long sip from her beverage and cleared her throat, adjusting the mic stand so that it evened out with the way she was seated. She had quite a few guitars back home, but none really compared to the majestic Lakewood that her Father bought her, and yes, even after twenty long years, she still kept it. The colors looked a little worn out, but the sounds that it makes are still as beautiful as it was the first time she strummed it.

And so she started strumming it, choosing to use her trusty fingers instead of the usual guitar pick. With the occasional pluck of a string to make her notes sound a little warmer and more colorful in a sense, Leanna started off the night by choosing to sing a haunting ballad, which was unexpected. The first verse started off gentle and slow, a slow build up as she worked her way towards the chorus, all the while offering a purely emotional deliverance of what she was truly capable of. Her coup de grace was of course, the chorus after the bridge, the climax, so to speak, as she belted out the notes, giving it that rocker's edge that she's so known for, before returning to a soft, mesmerizing tone with the final few sentences. Her guitar-work may not be as amazing as it once was, due to the amount of drugs she's pumped into her veins, but it still sounded pretty darn amazing, especially since it hadn't overwritten her vocals, nor was it too quiet for anyone to not notice.

The key to the success of the entire performance, however, laid on the song's lyrics. This was a song that reflected how she wished her life was like, how she wished she could be rid of all those addictions, but Leanna knew.. that it was too late for her to go back. There's just some things in this world that you had to live with, and these.. problems, were something that she'd take to the grave with her when her time comes.

[[Here be dat song, but she no play guitar so]]

WORDS: words
TAG: person
SPELLS: spells
NOTES: lalala

[Hakkai]

No answer from the artist herself, once again. So much for trying to be friendly. Not that Hakkai took offence. It was pretty much par for the course by now. Not worth getting ticked off about. Besides, there was only so much annoyance you could feel towards someone who was shaking so bad they looked like they were on the verge of a collapse. Cam answered him instead, assuring him he'd see the show when the time came as he went to fix the girl - Lea, was that her name? - a cherry bomb.

"Wheeeee," Hakkai cheered feebly, digging his chin deeper into his folded arms and flapping a hand vaguely. "Party drinks. This evenin's startin' to shape up." After downing her whiskey and coke on the rocks, the girl moved onto the fresh cherry bomb. Not really Hakkai's taste, when he was in the mood or mindset to distinguish - after a certain point all alcohol was pretty much the same. If it wasn't in his belly, it ought to be on the already, at the fuckin' double.

But Cam, ever the caring bartender, wasn't about to let his entertainer drink herself under the table. Hakkai didn't know whether or not the guy was going to follow through on his warning to cut her off if she drank too much, but he cheered again anyway, not for any particular reason. "Yaaaay. You go, Cal. Put ya foot down." Hakkai raised his right hand, clenched to imitate the act of holding a shot glass, and tilted it towards Cam, as if toasting him.

"It's Cam," the bartender repeated.

Hakkai nodded vigorously, or as vigorously as he dared. Moving his head too much only served to amplify the sensation that the top of his skull was about to fall off. "Sure, sure. An' dontcha worry 'bout a thing, pal, I'm in the business of chowin' down, not blowin' chunks. Or guzzlin' down, as the case may be. Whatever. My point is..." Hakkai's eyes glazed for a moment, and he stared at his swaying finger for several seconds until he got his train of thought back on track, by which point Lea was already on her way to the stage. "My point is. Ain't nothin' comin' outta me the same way it came in."

"Charming," Cam grunted, shaking his head. "I can see why you're such a hit with the ladies."

Hakkai gave him what he probably thought was an old-fashioned look. It was practically Neolithic. "Low blow, man, low blow."

Without much further ado, it seemed the stage was set, and all that was left for the skinny lady to start singing. Well, not so skinny, at least in all the right places. Hakkai forced him to sit a little straighter and flapped his limp hands together in a feeble attempt at applause. "Aight, yaaaay!" he called out feebly, but his voice was lost amidst the scattered applause from the rest of the clientelle and the opening chords of Lea's song.

When the music actually started, it blindsided him, just a little. "...Damn, that's fuckin' mellow," Hakkai muttered, staring curiously up at the girl on the stage through the haze of alcohol. From the look of her he'd had her pegged as the rocker type. Rapid, upbeat strumming, energetically belting out lyrics, stamping feet, headbanging, all that. Something to get the blood up.

Instead, it was a ballad, and when the chorus started it shut him up for good. Or, at least, for the length of the rest of the song.

Hakkai prided himself on the way he'd managed to integrate himself into modern human culture. It wasn't all that hard, to be honest, but he'd never actually tell that to himself. At least, it wasn't hard for someone as fascinated by everything that human beings produced as Hakkai. It didn't stop at food and drink, not by a long shot, though the pig yokai absolutely loved that the two played such a big part in human culture. But when he wasn't stuffing his face and poisoning his liver he was devouring every scrap of popular media he could get his hands on. Shows on the lacrimavision. Movies. Music.

It was incredibly interesting, seeing the diverse creative output of the human race as a whole. Even shitty daytime LV fascinated him. And as for music, Hakkai would listen to anything, regardless of genre or label. He liked blues. He liked rap. He liked hip hop. He liked jazz. He liked rock and country and electro and even quite a bit of pop material. Sometimes he'd go to a music store, plug himself into one of the headsets wired to the wall, and listen to whatever came on for the hell of it. It made him feel just a little closer to these amazing creatures who'd invented peanut butter and sitcoms and the kind of cocktail that truly deserves the name 'Pornstar'.

But this was different. Hakkai wasn't known for his ability to empathize with anyone or anything other than his own constant need to scatch his own itches, but somehow he felt, well, touched. No, touched wasn't quite the right word. Flabbergasted, yeah. Disturbed, maybe. He didn't have the words to describe the impression he was getting. If he had, and if he'd been inclined to share, he might have said it was like hearing someone putting their life and their existense and the entire rotten bag of feelings that came with it into music.

The song drew to a close, which was met with much applause from the assembled crowd. Hakkai tried to clap, too, but stopped short when he realized he couldn't do that and stay off the floor at the same time. It tok him a few moments to get his thought together before he leaned closer to the bartender. "Hey, Cam, I think I might be comin' down with somethin'," he mumbled, weakly, hugging the bar.

"You better not spew it all over my floor," Cam warned him, calmly.

"Nuh nuh, man, I'm serious," Hakkai said, urgently. He glared at nothing in particular, trying to force his brain to do as it was told and help him form words. Words. Words. Words words words. Why was it so friggin' hard, jeez. "Feels like. Feels like someone tore the bottom outta my gut and stuck a fuckin' monkeywrench through my ribs. I feel like I need a drink right friggin' now and at the same time I don't even wanna look at one. I can't even think about tits right now to feel better. I'm freakin' the fuck out, man."

"Well, they do say music has charms to soothe the savage breast," Cam said, smiling faintly.

Hakkai stared at him, then thumped his hands down on the bar hard enough to make the glasses jump. "The fuck, man?! How can ya talk about savagin' breasts after that?!"

Cam gave him a pointes look. "It's how the line goes, pal. Simmer down."

Hakkai deflated slightly. "Yeah, yeah, fine." He slumped forward again, resting his chin against the wood, and stared up at Lea as she got ready for her next number. "Fuck my life," he groaned, under his breath. "Why'd I have to be the piggy who cried at a fuckin' ballad? Nobody liked that son of a bitch. What a wuss. No wonder he ain't even in the rhyme. Couldn't I justa been the piggy who had roast beef? He knew how to fuckin' live."

He fell silent for a few moments. Then he sighed.

"...I'm gettin' the munchies."

[Leanna S. Grobain]

- - - - -

Perhaps it wasn't the brightest of ideas for Leanna to start off the night on a gloomy note, but then again, she wasn't known to follow the status quo of anything. The unorthodox rocker chick took another sip of her Cherry Bomb one the last note had been strung, and quickly asked for a refill, wagging her glass around, smiling as innocently as she possibly could - which was Cameron's weakness. Sure, the barkeep was happily married with a beautiful housewife who occasionally visits him at work, bringing him a bunch of healthy salads and whatnot to make sure he had enough fiber intake to not disintegrate his asshole every time he shits, but only so many people could resist such a seemingly innocent charm. And naturally, being the gentleman that he was, he immediately fixed her up another one of those drinks, this time with a squeeze of lemon instead of cherry. Its amazing how one flavor could change the entire beverage into something else, eh? Just like how the loss of one member turned a grungy rock band into what Leanna proclaimed to be 'puss rock', where the peak of the singer's songwriting skills only reached as far as writing about how her boyfriend broke up with her, and how she wants to fuck his best friend just to get some payback.

Its funny how she's a whore herself, but she's not whorier than the rest of them.

"Right.. I guess I should get this party started on a higher note, eh?" It was more crowded than usual, and the applause that she had been given really put her onto a good mood. She knew for a fact that the atmosphere in the room at the moment was one that sided with the partial sadness that her song had delivered, and she knew that it was her responsibility to lift their spirits once again. Although it was hard to rock out with just an acoustic guitar while she was alone on stage, she made it work. Being the frontwoman of a band for over 8 years did help, and prior to that she had already made a name for herself on the indy scene. Granted, practically nobody gave a shit whether she's alive or dead right now, but experience was, at the end of the day, experience. And she had a lot of it.

"Are ya'll ready to get rockin'?" Her words were emphasized by the quick repetitive strumming of a major scale chord that served to provide a more 'happy' sounding vibe in the background. In spite of what her dayjob was, she was still a genius when it came to the technical side of audio and music, utilizing brain-wave manipulating patterns such as binaural beats to let her audience what she's trying to make them feel. The best thing about it was, she had no idea she was doing it to begin with! "Let's go."

The previous strumming found itself being linked directly into the intro of her next song. A similar quick strumming pattern with a whole lot of power chords and fast finger-work. What was impressive would probably be how she managed to time herself just right, keeping on beat with the song while tapping her foot on the ground, almost creating a mental metronome for her own performance. With most lead singers, the problem laid on how they couldn't perform an unplugged solo acoustic set without a backup guitarist sitting right next to them. For Leanna, she had been practicing far too much for her own good. And once again, though her guitar-work may not be as smooth as it once was because of her drug issues, and her vocals was not as majestic as her earlier days, due to her smoking habits, but for those with a pair of good ears, it sounded authentic, it sounded natural, but most of all, it sounded good.

All in all, it should be a fun song that got the crowd going, seeing as it was one of the songs that her and her old band made famous. Those who knew it, yelled along with her during the 'Hey!' parts, and those who didn't probably felt like they've heard this song somewhere before, which wouldn't be a surprise, considering that it quite literally got stuck at the number one spot in the LacriTunes chart for around thirteen weeks. The lyrics were wild, sexy, and fun. It also showed a more sensual side to Leanna, along with a more mischievous part of her that she rarely shows.. except for when she decides to play some practical jokes on others.

WORDS: words
TAG: person
SPELLS: spells
NOTES: lalala

[Hakkai]

"Hey, Cam, ya do food in this joint?" Hakkai groaned, rolling his head this way and that as he tried to get a better focus on the barman. He was basically at the stage where the drinks were beginning to gang up on the more important parts of his brain, including the bits that deciphered what his eyes were telling him. So right about now, Cam more or less resembled a vague fleshy squiggle in the dimly lit bar. Unless he did something to counteract the process, pretty soon Hakkai would be asking questions of the little pink elephants that would emerge from the woodwork to dance around his head. Another great thing about getting drunk was that you somehow always seemed to end up in interesting company.

"Not at this time of night," Cam replied absently, not even sparing a glance in the yokai's direction. He was too preoccupied with watching the show, a faraway look on his face as he scrubbed the same glass over and over again. Instead of cleaning it, he was actually getting it progressively filthier again, as the accumulated dirt on the cloth began to evacuate for better climes.

Hakkai groaned again, and screwed his eyes shut. He started to gently bang his chin against the bar, once, twice, three times. "Fuck. I need a sleazy freakin' burger to set myself straight after that." Once that ballad had run its course, Hakkai had been left feeling... well, empty and shallow were probably applicable words here. It hadn't been this bad while the girl was still actually playing. But with the song over, all the weird feelings the song had awoken within his despicable little piggy heart had got together and were giving it a good kicking. He wasn't used to this kind of thing at all. It was a funny fuckin' world when the chemicals in your own brain started turning on you.

"You've just downed so much alcohol we shouldn't be letting you near a naked flame," Cam told him, slowly and carefully, putting the glass down and bracing his knuckles on the bar to lean closer to Hakkai. His brow was furrowed in a mixture of disbelief, disgust, and morbid fascination. "How the hell can you even be able to think of food without hurling?"

Hakkai fixed him with a look that, if he'd been less hammered, would have clearly said 'Are you kidding me?' Instead, it said 'Wrzulp.' As such, Hakkai had to fill in the rest of the info himself. "'Cause that's my fuckin' thing, Cal, I mean Cam, right?! Whether I'm happy or sad, I'm always fuckin' cravin'." Yup. One hundred percent true. Pig demon of greed, gluttony, and excess altogether - that was his field of expertise and it was one that encompassed every last aspect of his life on this mortal plane.

Cam leaned back, arching his eyebrows. "You're sad now, huh? Not too long ago you were Mister Walking Happy Hour."

Hakkai acknowledged the truth of the statement with an exaggerated nodand a half-hearted burp. "I don't ffffuckin' know, man. I blame the music. Feels like someone opened up the toppa my skull, stirred it around with a finger an' then dropped an ice cube inside without closin' the lid properly when they was done." Hakkai gestured wordlessly with his hands for a few moments, trying in vain to come up with a better description of what he was feeling. Finally, he gave up, and simply added weakly: "My fuckin' feels right now, man."

"Yeah, we've already been over all that," Cam muttered, shaking his head. But he was smiling slightly, in spite of himself. "Don't fret, it'll pick up soon enough."

Hakkai fixed him with a bleary, doubtful glare. "Pick up, uh? I'll be the judge of - " Then the next song started, and he swivelled around in his seat, eyes slamming wide open. "Holy shit I love rockin'!" he screamed excitedly, but his voice was thankfully lost amidst the anticipating cheers of the crowd. Whetever state he might be in at the time, Hakkai could smell a party coming a while away, and this one was jamming up his nostrils harder than that one time some girl he'd pissed off had tried to shove two sticks of wild garlic up his nose as punishment.

He wasn't disappointed. The song was faster, more upbeat than the opening number, just the kind of thing to get the crowd going after such a mellow, melancholy introduction. And it certainly had the desired effect on Hakkai - much more than the desired effect, in fact. The yokai joined in enthusiastically with the singing wherever he could, though it quickly became apparent he was only able to follow the 'Hey' parts, which he did with gusto.. If he tried to sing along with the actual lyrics, he just ended up rattling off an incomprehensible string of random words and sounds at the top of his voice, as if he were speaking in tongues.

And he just couldn't sit still. Even played on an acoustic guitar, the rock riffs and the vocals were fizzing through his blood, sizzling in and around his brain. He was shaking in his seat, so quickly it'd almost seemed like he was sitting still were it not for the hum of endless, intense, compact movement. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. Dude, I'm vibratin', I'm frickin' vibratin'," he managed to tell Cam, his eyes fixed on up on the stage. Holy crap, was he starting to regret giving up so easily.

"I can see that," Cam retorted, throwing him a stern and suspicious look. "Remember what I said about keeping your bodily fluids to yourself while you're in my joint."

"D'ya mind, I'm tryin' to enjoy the - " Hakkai began, audibly annoyed. Then he suddenly paled, and barely held himself back from clamping both hands to his crotch. "Fuckfuckfuck I need a whizz." Without another word to the bartender, he slipped off the stool as quickly as he dared, and scarpered off into the crowd. He used everything at his disposal short of physical violence, beyond the occasional meaningful and, where the need arised, firm nudge with an elbow or a knee. Even with the rock and roll tune filling him up with party energy, he felt like he was slowly filling up with something else, too, and if he didn't answer the call of nature, there was going to be a serious mess to clean up.

"'Scuse me, comin' through, don't worry, just a guy needin' to drop some serious load offa his bladder before a leak opens somewhere..."

He didn't want to make Cam bring out the Big Baby again.

[Leanna S. Grobain]

- - - - -

The most horrible thing about having so many hardcore addictions was that she needed a break from doing whatever the hell she was doing around every few minutes. She started smoking since the tender age of fifteen because she was curious, and hell, she even picked up her first glass of fine red wine around that time. They both started in the same way, really. Initially, she'd hate it. Both smoking and drinking, because one tasted bad and you ended up coughing out a shit-ton of smoke, while the other just.. tasted bad. Yet, when a free glass of wine, or a free stick of cigarette is offered, you can hardly say no to free stuff, right? And so, over the course of time, after going through a lot of stress, a lot of depressing, and a lot of just being on the road and traveling day in and day out that she started to develop a taste for it. And that taste slowly developed into a minor habit, and that minor habit deteriorated it from being an enjoyable past-time into an everyday must-have.

The best part about being a rockstar was definitely the fan support that they'd get. Performing onstage with so many people roaring and cheering you on, it really.. in the lack of a better term, if gets you high. But what happens off-stage? What happens when you want a cheaper, faster way to get that high without going through so much trouble? For Leanna, she had her smokes, and she had her booze. Yet, what happens when you consume so much of those that it doesn't work anymore? You'd wanna find a way to get that feeling back. You'd do anything.. to feel as high as you did way back when.

After ten minutes or so of performing, the girl found that her arms and hands were starting to act up again. The slight trembling returned, and upon realizing that, she immediately placed down her guitar, excused herself by announcing into the mic, wolfed down her drink and headed out the back door - which was, more or less right next to the bathroom - and straight into the dark alleyways. Clumsily reaching into her pocket and fishing out the pack of smokes that she had with her, she cursed herself when she forgot something awfully important, which she then ran back into the bar, headed right up to the counter and grabbed the lighter that she left there, before subsequently returning to the back alley.

Once more, a few mumbled cusses could be heard coming from you-know-who, since she kept fumbling and fiddling with the lighter. For fuck's sake, she had some tears in her eyes, just from feeling sorry for herself that she couldn't even do something as simple as this, but who was there to blame but her very own self? No one. No one at all. She brought this onto herself, and she held sole responsibility for her current state of health. The more angered and the more saddened she felt, the more she fumbled, and the longer it took for her to successfully light up that cigarette. It took her a whole five minutes before she was able to do so, but when she almost dropped her lighted up cigarette on the ground, she quickly reached out and grabbed it, burning her left index finger in the process.

"FUCKING.. FUCK!" She'd be lying if she said it hadn't stung like a mofo, but the pain was worth enduring for. If not, she'd have to spend another few fucked up minutes trying to do the same thing over again, while feeling even sorrier for herself than the first time. Even with the burn, Leanna felt as though a shitload of weight had been lifted off her shoulders when she finally took that long awaited drag from that wonderful, wonderful stick of nicotine.

Welcome to the life of one Leanna Seattle Grobain.

WORDS: words
TAG: person
SPELLS: spells
NOTES: lalala

[Hakkai]

For several minutes, all that could be heard from the men's room at the very back of the bar was a long, incredibly protracted groan of relief, echoed by a quiet tinkling. The groaning got pretty loud at points, so it was probably a good thing the chatter in the bar was so loud even during the artist's break from her much-lauded performance, or people might think something else was going on in there. Eventually, however, the bathroom concerto culminated with the lavatory equivalent of the fat lady singing - the toilet flush - and Hakkai stepped out again, fumbling with his zipper and grinning contentedly.

"Haaa... Whadda fuckin' relief. I thought I was gonna spring a leak for sure back there," the yokai muttered happily, to nobody in particular. It's a strange but demonstrable fact that there are few things more entertaining to someone who's drunk out of their warped little skull than a good long piss. He felt wonderfully light now he could move around again without feeling like there was a water balloon full to bursting lodged under his guts. Hakkai leaned closed the door and leaned back against it, gazing absently up at the dim ceiling, and listened to the music. Or rather, he listened to the absence of the music. The show had stopped sometime during his bathroom break.

"Hmm... What do? Sounds like the show's on break. I'd kill for a dirty big cheeseburger right now..." Hakkai muttered, patting his gurgling stomach. Even after going nuts on those Slow Deaths, he was still more than ready to commence stuffing his face again. There was just no keeping this pig's appetite down, and a massive binge was hella good at getting his stomach grumbling to be filled again. His eyes lit up as more and more delicious options lined up in his head. "Or a kebab. Big yummy fatty juicy kebab. Or...." Hakkai's eyes glazed over, and he had to wipe the drool away from the corner of his mouth with the back of a hand. "Piiiiiiizzaaaaaaaa..."

But where to get it? There was no going back on it, he'd started fantasizing about food so he had to do something about that shit. But friggin' Cal, I mean Cam, said he didn't do grub at this time of night. Friggin' Cam. Nice guy, but kinda psycho with it. Anyway, where was he supposed to get something to eat? There was no shortage of eateries open around here, even at this time of night, but who's to say the bouncers'd let him back in here afterwards?

Probably the only reason he was still on the premises was because Cam was too nice to have them chuck Hakkai out unless he did something really obnoxious, like throw up on the floor. That didn't necessarily mean he'd be accepted in again once he was out. Hakkai groaned. "Aw man, it's tough bein' a pig..." He'd just have to stick it out for now. Fun, booze and food were always good in combination, but sometimes you had to make a choice. Well, two out of three ain't bad.

It was at that point that Hakkai heard someone screaming out in anguish. The sound of their voice was muffled, but it sounded like it was coming from the next door down. "Uh?" The pig yokai pushed himself off the wall and frowned wonderingly in the direction of the noise. Fucking fuck? What sortof outburst was that? "What the dicks? Someone gettin' their freaky on round the back?" he wondered aloud, and dragged his feet over to the door. Live music and a free peep show? This place was better than the friggin' Ritz.

Instead, however, he was pleasantly surprised to see none other than the artist herself, who was apparently finally managing to enjoy a quiet smoke in between songs. Hakkai's expression lit up like an Akane casino. Hadn't he just been berating himself over giving up so quickly? Attempt Number Two was go! "Awwww hey, it's the star of the show! Smoke break? Wish I smoked, I'd join ya - SHIT!"

Something slipped under Hakkai's foot and sent him crashing down on his ass, knocking the wind clean out of him for a good few seconds. He glared around in search of the offending object until he got his breath back, but couldn't see what it was. It had probably rolled off into the shadows, which, come to think of it, was most likely a mercy. "Fuckin' incredible," the yokai muttered under his breath, before shaking his head and looking back up at Lea, grinning goofily as if nothing had happened. "Nevermind. Man, what was that number ya did just now called? I'd totally buy that shit, my drivin' playlist needs freshenin' up."