[OPEN] I drink to forget...
Who: Himura Tomoe and the bottom of a bottle OPEN
What: Tomoe… self-medicating herself with sake
Where: Bitches Brew Bar
Rating: PG unless someone brings a higher rating with them
When: Evening January 13th continued from introspection here
Drinking had been a vice for Tomoe, more so after the death of Kiyosatto Akira than before. It was certainly not a good reason to drink, but it had taken the edge off when things seemed to become unbearable. She was far past that point now, and seemed determined to not only take the edge off but to drown herself until she couldn’t even remember her own name.
She had wandered into the Bitches Brew hours ago, chose a table and had ordered sake, unceremoniously knocking back cup after cup with little pause, and yet somehow managing to keep a curious dignity about her despite it all (though perhaps that had something to do with the fact that she wasn’t dressed like a bar slut as much as managing to keep herself upright where she sat).
Still, for as collected as her posture seemed, there was still a shake to her hands and a red rimming eyes that couldn’t be attributed to the alcohol… That stone mask she always diligently kept in place was slipping, letting a significantly dead look enter her expression as she stared blankly at the empty cup held in her fingertips… before finally filling it again.
What: Tomoe… self-medicating herself with sake
Where: Bitches Brew Bar
Rating: PG unless someone brings a higher rating with them
When: Evening January 13th continued from introspection here
Drinking had been a vice for Tomoe, more so after the death of Kiyosatto Akira than before. It was certainly not a good reason to drink, but it had taken the edge off when things seemed to become unbearable. She was far past that point now, and seemed determined to not only take the edge off but to drown herself until she couldn’t even remember her own name.
She had wandered into the Bitches Brew hours ago, chose a table and had ordered sake, unceremoniously knocking back cup after cup with little pause, and yet somehow managing to keep a curious dignity about her despite it all (though perhaps that had something to do with the fact that she wasn’t dressed like a bar slut as much as managing to keep herself upright where she sat).
Still, for as collected as her posture seemed, there was still a shake to her hands and a red rimming eyes that couldn’t be attributed to the alcohol… That stone mask she always diligently kept in place was slipping, letting a significantly dead look enter her expression as she stared blankly at the empty cup held in her fingertips… before finally filling it again.