lemon lime 11. a night to remember.
Title: When the Sacred Ginmill Closes.
Author: Zombz
Rating: PG
Challenge: lemon lime 11. a night to remember.
Extras/Toppings: malt. hot fudge. butterscotch.
Word Count: 696
Story: Hoppers: Muzange's Youth.
Summary: Harry Muzange is just an angst-filled teenager.
Notes: Prompt from a Hat. a night to remember : Muzange rolling at an old mill
He’s drunk again.
Belligerent again.
King of the world again.
He’s alive again.
Harry leaned over the counter of the closed down bar. His hands hung over the edge, his fingertips touching the cobwebs beneath the lip. His knees were bent and if he had been just a little drunker he would have tried to sit down. He wasn’t too drunk though and so he remembered there were no seats anymore. The bar had closed when the problems began. Harry hadn’t known about it when it was open. Only now that it’s door was barred with cheap plywood and its windows stood dark and empty. This was more fitting for him anyway. No annoying women begging for attention. No drunk idiots talking loudly. No music. Nothing. He came here when he was drunk because it felt like a good place to be drunk. Especially since he could do it in solitude here.
He wasn’t always so misanthropic. He used to be fun. He used to be cool. At least that’s what people have begun telling him. He never heard anything about it before though. Only now that he wasn’t any of those things anymore. He felt like that was some sort of scam. He turned over on the bar, his back now pressed against the old wooden surface as he faced the empty establishment. This place used to be fun and cool too. He supposed that made him closed down and shut off, just like this bar.
“Ha,” he barked a laugh. It was funny how introspective the alcohol made him.
“Hey, you!” A voice commanded as a flashlight shone in his eyes. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes and stumbled slightly. The movement through his balance. “What do you think you’re doing?” The person approached and lowered the light so that Harry was able to see. It was one of those new military officers. They had a special name he thought but wasn’t a hundred percent sure. All he knew was that they were causing a shit load of problems for normal people like him.
“Can’t a gentleman enjoy his own company in a closed down bar in the middle of the night?” The soldier looked at him for a moment before speaking. His face was unreadable and that was something Harry was usually pretty good at. He suspected that whatever training the soldier had gone through was responsible for it. Must not show pain or fear or flatulence, he thought to himself.
“How old are you?”
“Old enough to enlist,” Harry responded quickly. He took a moment after it had happened to consider his choice in words. It wasn’t a lie since he was over eighteen but it was a very specific way to answer. Especially to an enlisted soldier.
“Why haven’t you?”
“Why would I?”
“You seem angry,” the soldier said with a shrug. “The type of person who is going to wind up with a gun in his hands anyway.” Harry steadied himself as he took a step away from the bar. The world spun for a moment but stopped fast enough for his liking.
“That’s the kind of person you want watching your back?”
“They’re the type of people that usually do well. You don’t like people so you don’t care about hurting them. You don’t have any friends because you’re too angry so the companionship that comes with enlisting would be a welcome change. You have no job and are done with school so it would give you a reason to wake up in the morning.” Harry stood in silence as the soldier proceeded to pass his judgment and make assumptions. Assumptions that were for the most part fairly accurate. Harry did dislike people. They were usually stupid. He didn’t work and school, something he had enjoyed, was done with. He only woke up when the sun was on its downward slope in the sky and he never had any plans. “Besides,” the soldier started up again, “they’re probably going to start drafting people in and wouldn’t you rather be there on your own accord?”
He’s alive again.
Nervous again.
Eager again.
He’s got a purpose again.
Author: Zombz
Rating: PG
Challenge: lemon lime 11. a night to remember.
Extras/Toppings: malt. hot fudge. butterscotch.
Word Count: 696
Story: Hoppers: Muzange's Youth.
Summary: Harry Muzange is just an angst-filled teenager.
Notes: Prompt from a Hat. a night to remember : Muzange rolling at an old mill
He’s drunk again.
Belligerent again.
King of the world again.
He’s alive again.
Harry leaned over the counter of the closed down bar. His hands hung over the edge, his fingertips touching the cobwebs beneath the lip. His knees were bent and if he had been just a little drunker he would have tried to sit down. He wasn’t too drunk though and so he remembered there were no seats anymore. The bar had closed when the problems began. Harry hadn’t known about it when it was open. Only now that it’s door was barred with cheap plywood and its windows stood dark and empty. This was more fitting for him anyway. No annoying women begging for attention. No drunk idiots talking loudly. No music. Nothing. He came here when he was drunk because it felt like a good place to be drunk. Especially since he could do it in solitude here.
He wasn’t always so misanthropic. He used to be fun. He used to be cool. At least that’s what people have begun telling him. He never heard anything about it before though. Only now that he wasn’t any of those things anymore. He felt like that was some sort of scam. He turned over on the bar, his back now pressed against the old wooden surface as he faced the empty establishment. This place used to be fun and cool too. He supposed that made him closed down and shut off, just like this bar.
“Ha,” he barked a laugh. It was funny how introspective the alcohol made him.
“Hey, you!” A voice commanded as a flashlight shone in his eyes. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes and stumbled slightly. The movement through his balance. “What do you think you’re doing?” The person approached and lowered the light so that Harry was able to see. It was one of those new military officers. They had a special name he thought but wasn’t a hundred percent sure. All he knew was that they were causing a shit load of problems for normal people like him.
“Can’t a gentleman enjoy his own company in a closed down bar in the middle of the night?” The soldier looked at him for a moment before speaking. His face was unreadable and that was something Harry was usually pretty good at. He suspected that whatever training the soldier had gone through was responsible for it. Must not show pain or fear or flatulence, he thought to himself.
“How old are you?”
“Old enough to enlist,” Harry responded quickly. He took a moment after it had happened to consider his choice in words. It wasn’t a lie since he was over eighteen but it was a very specific way to answer. Especially to an enlisted soldier.
“Why haven’t you?”
“Why would I?”
“You seem angry,” the soldier said with a shrug. “The type of person who is going to wind up with a gun in his hands anyway.” Harry steadied himself as he took a step away from the bar. The world spun for a moment but stopped fast enough for his liking.
“That’s the kind of person you want watching your back?”
“They’re the type of people that usually do well. You don’t like people so you don’t care about hurting them. You don’t have any friends because you’re too angry so the companionship that comes with enlisting would be a welcome change. You have no job and are done with school so it would give you a reason to wake up in the morning.” Harry stood in silence as the soldier proceeded to pass his judgment and make assumptions. Assumptions that were for the most part fairly accurate. Harry did dislike people. They were usually stupid. He didn’t work and school, something he had enjoyed, was done with. He only woke up when the sun was on its downward slope in the sky and he never had any plans. “Besides,” the soldier started up again, “they’re probably going to start drafting people in and wouldn’t you rather be there on your own accord?”
He’s alive again.
Nervous again.
Eager again.
He’s got a purpose again.