You all right, Little Momma?

( Read more... )

[Guess who can drink again? Yes it's Elegante's favorite alcoholic asshole. Our good inebriated friend here has just discovered the Cool and is making use of its stock. Since he's probably been in here since last night, considering the number of bottles on the table, he's decidedly passed out, with his head planted firmly against the table and ( Read more... )

[What's that noise? Why it's Hancock tearing through his door with a bed. You see, he's currently handcuffed to his bed and he can't seem to break the damn thing. So he broke out of his room and is now sitting on his bed in front of the elevator cause lol he doesn't know how to get anywhere now. Stupid bed.]

Damnit. What the fuck is this?

[Yeah, he's out of the brig. The flowers are still on his head. But that doesn't bother him. He's kind of worried about that girl he helped earlier. What's happened to her? He wants to ask, but like hell if he will.]

...Fuck this shit.

[Click! He's in Sergei's and drinking like a boss. Who'da figured that?]

[What's that you hear, fellow Elegante passenger? Why it's the sound of your neighborhood asshole hitting golf balls into the water. He found a whole suitcase of them and a driver on deck 12. He's hitting them out to sea one by one. He's not even bothering to listen to the splash or check the distance, because as soon as they're up in the air, they ( Read more... )

[For the first time since his arrival, Hancock's not drunk. Or on his way to get drunk.

The feed cuts on and is steady. The first thing you passengers see is the blue sky, then you get a glimpse of the deck far below somebody's big ass feet.]

Well how d'you work the damn thing.

[Finally Hancock's face~ He hasn't shaved. But he doesn't look ( Read more... )

[Snoring. That's all you're gonna hear. Hancock's laying on his comm, down in that very same booth in Sergei's. There's about 6 more empty bottles.

His beanie's down over his eyes.]

The booze is 'bout the only good thing on this rusty shit box.

[He's down in Sergei's stretched out in a booth. There's about three bottles on the table. Two have been drained dry and he's working his way through the third.]

[Hancock's sprawled on his bed snoring, big surprise. The door is propped up against the wall in the hallway and a curtain's hanging from the door frame. So if you're traversing deck 11, come say hi!]