Eat, Drink, and Hopefully Be Merry
Name(s): June, Open (Planning on at least Laguna, Rangiku, and Luxord, but feel free to stop by)
Location: Game Keeper's Hut
Week: 35
Time: Tuesday
Rating: PG-13 for Alcohol Use and Language
June had made it apparent that her feelings over the death in the Hogwarts staff were overwhelming her. The journal entry exposed her feelings of vulnerability and helplessness in fighting death. Perhaps, it was due to the sudden event occuring at what seemed like a random and unexpected time. The Game Keeper for the school, however, had it in mind for another reason.
She laid a heavy glass bottle of whiskey in her hand back down on the worn wooden table installed in the middle of her residential hut. She picked up the tumbler glass she had set up in front of her with an equal portion of the hard whiskey and small ice cubes that casually twirled around the glass after she had poured. Every sip of the booze was preceded by a raised toast to all the ones she knew in her life who had passed on. Most of them were comrades in the bounty hunting business that had either been too old or too weak for the game and were slain. But, as the mental list of names got shorter and shorter, she came closer to two names she was hoping to not reach. The knot in her stomach constricted like ice grips on the branches of trees during winter. Her hand began shaking to the second to last toast, making the edges of the ice cubes dance against the etched glass. "To I-Iroh, never knew him...but looked like a stand-up guy," she quietly tributed before downing all the liquid in the glass.
As she began pouring the next one, she sniffed back heavily and sighed deeply outward. "Not gonna cry for you, Pops. I've done that plenty already." She took a break from holding the refreshed glass of whiskey in her strong but nimble hands when she heard a soft mew emerging from outside. As the "cat flap" opened, there was a sweet-looking kneazle cautiously walking in, throwing its soft fluffy tail to and fro. "Hi, Fern," she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She never let her emotions get in the way of taking care of animals. She left the glass standing on the table in the soft candlelight as she grabbed Fern gently and went to lay on her soft lounge chair near the opposite side of the hut.
Location: Game Keeper's Hut
Week: 35
Time: Tuesday
Rating: PG-13 for Alcohol Use and Language
June had made it apparent that her feelings over the death in the Hogwarts staff were overwhelming her. The journal entry exposed her feelings of vulnerability and helplessness in fighting death. Perhaps, it was due to the sudden event occuring at what seemed like a random and unexpected time. The Game Keeper for the school, however, had it in mind for another reason.
She laid a heavy glass bottle of whiskey in her hand back down on the worn wooden table installed in the middle of her residential hut. She picked up the tumbler glass she had set up in front of her with an equal portion of the hard whiskey and small ice cubes that casually twirled around the glass after she had poured. Every sip of the booze was preceded by a raised toast to all the ones she knew in her life who had passed on. Most of them were comrades in the bounty hunting business that had either been too old or too weak for the game and were slain. But, as the mental list of names got shorter and shorter, she came closer to two names she was hoping to not reach. The knot in her stomach constricted like ice grips on the branches of trees during winter. Her hand began shaking to the second to last toast, making the edges of the ice cubes dance against the etched glass. "To I-Iroh, never knew him...but looked like a stand-up guy," she quietly tributed before downing all the liquid in the glass.
As she began pouring the next one, she sniffed back heavily and sighed deeply outward. "Not gonna cry for you, Pops. I've done that plenty already." She took a break from holding the refreshed glass of whiskey in her strong but nimble hands when she heard a soft mew emerging from outside. As the "cat flap" opened, there was a sweet-looking kneazle cautiously walking in, throwing its soft fluffy tail to and fro. "Hi, Fern," she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She never let her emotions get in the way of taking care of animals. She left the glass standing on the table in the soft candlelight as she grabbed Fern gently and went to lay on her soft lounge chair near the opposite side of the hut.