Setting Aside ...Sobriety
Ain't no future in ol' poison whiskey.
Gonna rush you down to see the doctor,
the doctor's gonna shake his head.
The only thing he's gonna tell ya,
''Stop drinkin' Johnny Walker's Red.'' )'>Kaiba was staring down at the food on his plate with the type of concentration better devoted to diffusing bombs. It was going on ten in the evening, and here he was, killing time in some middle-class restaurant, paying for food he wanted nothing to do with.
At least he’d gotten some fresh air, like he’d told Isono he would. Not that he answered to Isono, of course, but it was difficult to argue with a man wielding the loudest vacuum in existence. He’d followed him from room to room, lingering under the pretense of cleaning the runners in the hall when Kaiba chased him out of any given area.
He had a point, anyway - if he hadn’t, he would’ve been physically removed from the premises - Kaiba needed to get out for a while. He was still working, but from home, and with no reason to go anywhere (he wasn‘t permitted to see Mokuba), he’d stayed precisely where he was, hardly going beyond the offices or bathroom attached to his private rooms.
After so many days, the promise of cabin fever was looking more and more like a threat.
So he’d finally gone out, albeit reluctantly. Taken one of his personal cars, too, to avoid attention. It was parked at KaibaCorp HQ now. With less people milling around the business district this time of night, it was easy for him to slip away, unnoticed, onto the street and go for a walk.
And a very long walk at that, but he’d stopped after a couple hours, thinking he could do with something to eat, even if the nearest place to get it wasn’t exactly five-star.
Staring at the steak he‘d ordered, which was well-done when it should’ve been medium rare, he decided he’d been wrong. Food wasn’t what he’d been craving. Not at all.
But the beer he’d ordered with it? That went down nicely. As did the two that followed. Granted, he probably should’ve ordered wine, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink like Pegasus. Whiskey, however classless, would’ve been his first choice anyway.
Or perhaps he was just thinking that now that he had enough alcohol in his system to crave more?
Ah, trivial mysteries.
Kaiba finally pushed his plate away. It was pointless, after all, and if he was going to get drunk, he was going to do it right.
He paid the bill and tipped the bubble-headed waitress who’d been eyeing him for the past hour, probably trying to recognize him, or inviting him to hit on her. Or both. He wasn’t dressed like he usually was, having traded the press beacons that were his own assortment of coats and dusters for a dark pullover hoodie of Mokuba’s, which had always been too big for the boy.
He wasn’t trying to be pitiful by wearing it - though the reality wasn’t lost on him at all - he just needed something that wasn’t easily noticeable and hadn’t been in the mood to go shopping. Indeed, Isono probably would’ve come off his coat, but Kaiba had been in the midst of snubbing to him at the time.
It didn’t matter anyway. He ran in higher circles, so he wasn’t likely to run into anyone he knew in this part of the city, and that was the idea.
Venturing back outside, and noting the fuzzy edges everything seemed to have sprouted, while not particularly caring, Kaiba wandered a little further down the street, until he came to a decent looking bar. It was a far-cry from the places his kind of people frequented, but it wasn’t a total dive, either.
It would suffice.
He went in.
[Tag, Mutt Jounouchi, of all people! :0 ]
Gonna rush you down to see the doctor,
the doctor's gonna shake his head.
The only thing he's gonna tell ya,
''Stop drinkin' Johnny Walker's Red.'' )'>Kaiba was staring down at the food on his plate with the type of concentration better devoted to diffusing bombs. It was going on ten in the evening, and here he was, killing time in some middle-class restaurant, paying for food he wanted nothing to do with.
At least he’d gotten some fresh air, like he’d told Isono he would. Not that he answered to Isono, of course, but it was difficult to argue with a man wielding the loudest vacuum in existence. He’d followed him from room to room, lingering under the pretense of cleaning the runners in the hall when Kaiba chased him out of any given area.
He had a point, anyway - if he hadn’t, he would’ve been physically removed from the premises - Kaiba needed to get out for a while. He was still working, but from home, and with no reason to go anywhere (he wasn‘t permitted to see Mokuba), he’d stayed precisely where he was, hardly going beyond the offices or bathroom attached to his private rooms.
After so many days, the promise of cabin fever was looking more and more like a threat.
So he’d finally gone out, albeit reluctantly. Taken one of his personal cars, too, to avoid attention. It was parked at KaibaCorp HQ now. With less people milling around the business district this time of night, it was easy for him to slip away, unnoticed, onto the street and go for a walk.
And a very long walk at that, but he’d stopped after a couple hours, thinking he could do with something to eat, even if the nearest place to get it wasn’t exactly five-star.
Staring at the steak he‘d ordered, which was well-done when it should’ve been medium rare, he decided he’d been wrong. Food wasn’t what he’d been craving. Not at all.
But the beer he’d ordered with it? That went down nicely. As did the two that followed. Granted, he probably should’ve ordered wine, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink like Pegasus. Whiskey, however classless, would’ve been his first choice anyway.
Or perhaps he was just thinking that now that he had enough alcohol in his system to crave more?
Ah, trivial mysteries.
Kaiba finally pushed his plate away. It was pointless, after all, and if he was going to get drunk, he was going to do it right.
He paid the bill and tipped the bubble-headed waitress who’d been eyeing him for the past hour, probably trying to recognize him, or inviting him to hit on her. Or both. He wasn’t dressed like he usually was, having traded the press beacons that were his own assortment of coats and dusters for a dark pullover hoodie of Mokuba’s, which had always been too big for the boy.
He wasn’t trying to be pitiful by wearing it - though the reality wasn’t lost on him at all - he just needed something that wasn’t easily noticeable and hadn’t been in the mood to go shopping. Indeed, Isono probably would’ve come off his coat, but Kaiba had been in the midst of snubbing to him at the time.
It didn’t matter anyway. He ran in higher circles, so he wasn’t likely to run into anyone he knew in this part of the city, and that was the idea.
Venturing back outside, and noting the fuzzy edges everything seemed to have sprouted, while not particularly caring, Kaiba wandered a little further down the street, until he came to a decent looking bar. It was a far-cry from the places his kind of people frequented, but it wasn’t a total dive, either.
It would suffice.
He went in.
[Tag, Mutt Jounouchi, of all people! :0 ]