#c: bash1

[raine-morgan]

Location: Pangean Beer @bashianofonte​

Raine walked into the fancy establishment with their eyebrows lightly over their eyes, checking out the place with zero sense of direction. This wasn’t the type of place they frequented a lot. It was mostly from a money related standpoint, because normal beer did it for them as well, so why get something with a fancy label. They needed a bit of a chance of pace though, so they walked into the place as if they were a regular, walking up to the bar and smiling at the person standing there. “Good evenin’,” they said, barely a hint of accent. “What ye got on tap?” 

[topher-romijn]

Location: Karaoke Night @bashianofonte​

Topher had spotted the duck from a distance of ten meters. It felt like every bone in their body was tuned into the idea of pets and animals. And they had seen a whisk of white feathers and drawn a conclusion. They needed to get closer. 

As they did, it became clear that what they had seen had been in fact, a duck. And said duck had been in the arms of someone, before taken back inside of a bar. Said bar was where the karaoke night was supposed to take place. In about... an hour or so. So when Topher opened the door and moved through it, the place was very much deserted except for the people who probably worked there. They walked up to the bar, where the duck was sitting, and carefully approached, eyes locked with the beautiful animal. They leaned their arms on the barstool, which they used as a barrier between themselves and the duck. “Hi,” they said, to the duck. 

[zakary-prashad]

Location: Pangean Beer @bashianofonte

Zakary had never been someone to run from a fight. Not that he didn’t want to, he simply had never had the courage to run, which might be a strange contradictory idea, but it was true. He feared running away from something more than he feared standing bravely to accept whatever consequences were coming. 

But this was different. 

The coven had invited him to practice some strange ritual that accompanied Dark Magic, he had accepted. The full moon had scared him over the past months, and the idea of being in the company of others meant he would be safe. 

Or so he thought.

Their usual practice grounds were in someone’s enormous studio, most members of the coven earned tons of money, but this one surely had a home Zakary could only dream of. Out of nowhere the lights had gone out, the candles had been blown out, and two of the people in the circle were violently taken from the room. Some continued the spell, others fled in chaos. 

Zakary fled in chaos. As far as he knew, he might’ve been the only one, his body contorting slightly when he escaped from the spell, but all he noticed was the sudden adrenaline that followed the extreme fear that overcame him. He jumped out of the window, climbed his way down to the ground floor, and started to run. He ran and ran until he found a lightened window, opening the door and jumping in without a second thought.

He saw the one individual, recognised that it was a bar, and before he could say anything in greeting or explain himself, he collapsed. Not due to fatigue or because of his body running out of adrenaline, but because a tremor shot through his body at such a feverish rate that it caught him completely by surprise. 

[sahidchettair]

Location: Exhibition  @bashianofonte​

There were moments that Sahid felt almost glad for the constant silence. For one if the crowd around them had a lot to say, and they weren’t too interested in listening. They enjoyed art, modern art more than the classics, and mostly because they could read their own story in it. They could pretend they knew what the creator had in mind. It was an exercise they had done with the kids at school a few times, in the few months they had been a teacher. It was a fun exercise. it was even funnier now that Sahid was telling these stories to random bystanders, and they nodded at them as if they truly thought he had any idea what the art work was about. The more they spoke and studied, the more they started to notice things about the works themselves. 

One of those details fell in place when a handsome man passed them, clearly looking like someone they had seen in one of the paintings. They hurried after the individual, trying to set themselves in his line of walking in order to not seem too desperate. Once the handsome stranger almost passed them, Sahid tapped him on the shoulder. “I think I have seen you before,” they said, smugly. “Are you by any chance a model?”