Jessepinwheel
08-01-2014, 12:09 AM
Lucario (Xate): 2 souls, aura manipulation, power-stealing machine, diamond knuckles.
Torvin (Tremorfist): Military training, explosives, stimulants, various weapons training.
The stories below are posted in the order that they were submitted and may not be the order in the title or of the character blurbs above. When giving feedback (and you should), please keep the authors of the respective stories anonymous even if you know which one it is.
"Why do Bars have to have such wierd names?"
“Alright everyone, time for Happy Hour!”
An uproarious cheer resounded throughout the bar that Torvin frequented as the bartender shouted this out. It was happy hour, only once a week was this momentous occasion, it was a time of celebration, it was a time of brotherhood, it was a time of getting alcohol at substantially reduced prices for a short period of time.
Despite this being a fortunate bit of luck for the man, Torvin didn’t seem quite as happy as the other patrons of the bar were. His head leaning slowly against the mahogany countertop, prompting a fellow at his side, a rather burly bar goer, to mutter toward him, “Y’had enough lad?”.
Torvin couldn’t help but glance at the second pint he had ordered this evening, relatively untouched since he had ordered it, perhaps the man was mocking him, or, more realistically, probably wanted to see if he could obtain his untouched drink.
“I’m fine, just a bit exhausted.” He said in response, but with a rather defeated sigh, shoved the glass over toward the man, who took it with a wide and gap-toothed grin, “Yer alright mate.” The man chortled, slamming a hand against Torvins military jacket as he began to chug down the ale with a grin.
He began to pull himself up after a few moments of this, the cheery mood in the bar were not to his liking this evening. He had just begun to make his way toward the exit before his downcast eyes picked up a flicker of activity, something, or somebody he had not expected to see in the bar.
Walking into the bar was a young man, perhaps in his late teens, still looking like a person who would needed to be carded. A rather friendly grin plastered upon his face, his eyes hidden by his goggles.
Torvin blinked a few times, “…Luke?” he muttered, the man was a Wrhg contestant, this could mean several things, running into him at the bar, a challenge, a fight, or just a contrived coincidence.
It took several moments of racing mind before he had finally noticed that, Lucario, seeing him staring, had walked over and had flashed a similarly friendly grin, “Hey there Torvin, long time no see!”
Torvia nearly jumped out of his shoes, the rather twitchy man took a visible step back with a surprising amount of unease crossing his face. Lucario, not quite understand why he was like that, just gave another grin and said, “Calm down, calm down, just being friendly and saying hello.”
“O-oh, well, hello, Luke, it’s a pleasure to see you again, last time we saw each other was…holidays, North Pole, aye?”
For a moment he thought he saw the boy’s body stiffen, his posture not becoming hostile, but a rather cross look upon his face. “Don’t call me that.” He responded in a rather deadpan tone.
Torvin flinched again at this, he had no real reason to, almost every other member of the Wrhg had never been entirely rude or even partially dangerous to him, and he had more to worry about from his own organization than the Gladiators it became more apparent daily.
“I apologize, but it is nice to see you either way I suppose.” Torvin responded, putting on a rather forced smile toward Luke, the cheery attitude seemed at times to parallel his own rather optimist attitude, but the only thing he felt good about was heading back home.
“I was just about to leave, head back to the Clan hall or home to check on the wife and kid.” Torvin had begun to gesture toward the door in that, only to get his pointing hand slapped down by Lucario’s, a blazingly quick reaction that caused a jolt of pain to rocket up his arm.
Lucario winced at the bulging eyes that Torvin responded at with this, “Sorry, heh, didn’t know my own strength, but come on, stay a bit with me, I just got here and having a drink with a bud of mine will be much more fun than drinking alone.”
It wasn’t an argument that Torvin expected to win, so with an almost grudging sigh, he relented, though he did perk a brow at the term ‘bud’.
“Bud?” he calmly asked toward Lucario, who only gave a silly grin in response to this, and began to saunter over to the bar. “Do you have any drinks to recommend? He says, glancing back at Torvin who, at this point was just watching quietly
“Well, the ales always a pleasant drink.” He said with a small shrug, as he decided to wander back down to sit at a bar stool alongside Lucario, who had waved down the bartender, who had only managed a grimace at him. A tall wisp of an individual, balding and sporting a greying mustache, he peered over at the boy. A rather booming tone in comparison to his rather small appearance.
“Do you happen to have an ID?” he said with a rather unsettlingly grim glance over him. Lucario seemed to blink for a few moments at this, “I…I am not sure if I have it….” he began to say, shuffling through his pockets with a somewhat panicked expression upon his face.
The bartender perked a brow, looking down at the young man with a slowly raising eyebrow. “If you cannot give proof of your age…you will need to leave…”
Torvin rolled his eyes at this, looking toward Lucario, “I’m sure the wRHG has some form of identification or records you can look up, do you have that on you?” he offers helpfully. He didn’t want to see the kid kicked out, even though he wasn’t too keen on getting drunk.
A few moments pass, as Lucario finally manages to find a proper form of identification and the bartenders gives him a list of drinks and foods.
“Oi, quarter through happy hour!” the bartender shouts, causing plenty of the bargoers to slowly make their way over to the bar, another round or two was to be had.
Finally managing an order of ale, two in fact, Lucario pats a stool next to himself, gesturing Torvin over with a nod, “I don’t drink much, I wanted to aquire a taste for it, see what it’s like, didn’t mean to run into you, but the more the merrier!”
Torvin gives a rather weak shrug, “Outside of my clan, I don’t see many wRHG members unless they want to fight me, you can understand why I’d be a bit jumpy.”
Lucario had given a shrug, “Its money, its entertainment, a lot of people do it for the thrill of the fight, or to make ends meet.”
“Some are just sadists though, I was fortunate enough to not run into anybody who wants to do that, but, I’ve never been too relaxed around people in these situations…” Torvin muttered, he took the drink that Lucario had slid over to him, but had only taken a small sip after he said this, as opposed to Luke, who had downed a large draw, a big grin on his face.
“I can see that.” Lucario had said, not breaking his smile, “You should just relax though, there isn’t a bit reason to worry, you joined the Gladiators for a reason, and you will be fine on it.”
Torvin went silent at that, taking another draw from his ale, his head not quite bowing deeply, but enough to maybe cause a bit of a weaker gasp from him.
A few bar goers had looked over to see what had gone on, but were drowned out by the bartender
“Thirty Minutes to go!” the bartender yelled, halfway through happy hour.
Sitting directly next to him, Lucario flinched from the shout, but would have patted Torvins shoulder, “Is…there a problem?” he said this almost hesitantly, as if considering what to say to the man.
Torvin just continued to drink, his head bowed, as conversations in the bar began to drown out the two. He had a few moments to think before he finally gave a reply to Lucario.
“Never chose to join the wRHG.” He said simply, taking another drink, “It was always my company, my organization that caused me to go into battle. I put my life in danger, not because of some stupid thrill seeking, or honor, or anything, it’s because if I don’t…”
He goes silent again, taking another drink from his ale, finally emptying the mug. The bartender slammed down another mug next to him almost immediately. Luke, who had been steadily drinking away, had a small smirk to his face, a light flush on his face. He patted Torvin again,
“You’re a sad drunk, y’know that? C’mon, loosen up a little!” he said. Slapping him a bit. “Quit if ya don’t like it, live yer life normally, ya have kids or whatever, right?”
Torvin continued to drink away a bit at this, “My daughter and wife know about the wRHG, but not as much about why I am in it, they have…qualms at times.”
An involuntary shudder ran through Torvin as he bowed his head down, “…I feel like I still should go, it isn’t right to sit her and just ramble like this while, work to be done.”
As he stood, a tugging at his jacket stopped him, almost causing a small stumble from him. It was Lucario once again, but this time, something had changed in his eyes. His grip had a strange strength to it.
“Keep talking, get it out.” He said, his tone less relaxed, almost on edge, like he was trying to suppress something.
Torvin had never seen this from the usually happy Lucario, and he said, almost steadily“…I can’t leave this organization, unless they want to have me in a casket, or they fire me, which will most likely end in a casket.”
Lucario grimaced, “What’s the downside to staying then?”
“If I am going to be fighting people I interact with, if I make any friends with them…” he shrugs listlessly.
“You are afraid you are going to hurt somebody you care about?” Lucario finished for him, just looking at him with the continued just…frown.
“That I am going to have to betray people I care about, that I have to keep them, anybody at arm’s length, in the case they do the same for me.” He continued on, his tone low and melancholy.
“Fifteen minutes till full price!” the bartender roared, his deep voice still disturbingly coming from the frail man.
Torvin gave a rather defeated sigh, “It’s stress, it’s something I need to deal with.” He said, closing his eyes.
“If you are worried about it, you shouldn’t let it bottle up like that, don’t just wallow in it, you will get yourself sick, or worse.” Lucario said, not entirely friendly, but he did say it with a touch of concern on his voice.
Torvin shrugs, “It isn’t something I can easily talk about.” He said, giving a weary glance toward the ale he had left on the counter and perhaps thinking to drink a bit more before he left, but…something stopped him.
“I need to go back to my Clan.” He said, “I think I have an idea.”
A gleam was in his eye as he said this, as he began to pull himself away, he tossed a few coins on the counter toward the barkeep. Lucario followed along a moment later, going back to a rather cheerful smirk
A rather pleasant smile crossed Torvin’s face as he walked alongside Lucario outside of the pub. The stars had only just begun to come out as he breathed in the refreshing evening air. It seemed like it was going to be a rather lovely evening, and he was happy to be a part of it, as he turned to close the pub door, for a moment, he heard the last words being shouted out by the bartender.
“Ok, Happy Hours over, back to regular prices ya mugs.”
Staring at the tinted orange liquid that barely filled his shot, Lucario lifted up his goggled face, his words were whispers, fading into the gentle wind stirred by sparse ceiling fans.
"Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure, mate!" With a friendly smile, the bartender gave the young man a pat on his shoulder, "It's on the house, that shot of fine bourbon!" Twirling his ashen grey mustache, the older man looked past his customers, to find no one else besides Lucario and another druken soldier sitting at the counter. “But you sure are a strange fellow, to be ordering water in a pub in the middle of the day. And a teenager, at that!” He let out a warm cackle, as if to disperse the melacholic mood that used to pervade pubs.
“Yeah…” Hesistant for a few seconds, Lucario brushed his blue hair, trying to keep its ruffled style from going wild, “I just feel like drinking. And since I’m short on money, water seems nice.” He couldn’t bear himself to say it, for it was a nightmare, of all things, that shook his spirits. Unable to quell his uneasiness, the young man dediced to head to a nearby pub, both out of curiousity and necessity.
“So, how do you like it here? This here pub is the pride of our city, the heart of civilization itself!” His hearty chuckle, along with his ostentatious gestures, a grin soon spread across the youth’s face, amused by the bartender’s antics. “Well, more like the face of civilization. And not so much as the city’s pride as my own. But lemme tell ya,” Inching his face closer, his furrowed brows clearly visible on his bald forhead, the pub’s owner continued, “This place has been passed down the Drinkmight from generations to generations! And since my takeover, everyday is a full house! Well, night, but you get the idea.” After finishing ‘gushing’ about his accomplishment, he then shot a question at his customer, “So, how’s yours, boy?”
“The usual fighting and beating.” Yes… the usual stuff. In this city, there lies an organization by the name of Rock Hard Gladiators, aiming to entertain civilians and to give fighters a chance to prove their might and aid their causes. A staple example of the “bread and circuses” regime, minus the evil government, as far as he could see. “I occasionally travel, but fruitless it proved to be.” Letting out his worries with a sigh, the young brawler was annoyed. He joined the system to help himself, yet he was nowhere reaching his goal.
“Says… Rio, you there?”
What is it, Lucas? Echoing within his mind was the voice of his literal soulmate, Rio. Through unknown circumstances, he was trapped in a cube and upon release, ended up with Lucas, the body’s owner, since then. Little is known of his past, for he rarely mentioned it. And if he did, the only information he would divulge was his title as a legendary fighter, and his downfall was through others’ jealousy. Hearing the story again and again from his friend’s monotonous tone, Lucas could easily tell he was lying, though proving would prove to be difficult.
“What did you dream last night?” he interrogated his stowaway soulmate, hoping he could find answers to the nightmare that had consumed his consciousness.
I do not dream.The answer brought forth many implications. If he could not sleep, then Rio was forced to stay awake all the time, without an escape to the darkness that shrouded each night.
“I… I see.” He could see it coming, yet hearing it from the horse’s mouth was less satisfying than he’d expected. Then, a booming voice interrupted his monologue.
“What ya thinking, my dear child?” Raising his aged eyebrows, the bartender asked with a smile, one that hadn’t faded since Lucario first entered the premise.
“Just musing about life,” Bluntly and smoothly, just the way Lucas liked his words, “And why did my title go from mate to child?” Well, minus the last remark.
“Ah… good old ‘discussions of life’s meaning’. As if that topic hadn’t been done to death,” Ignoring the question, the older man shut his hazel eyes, focusing at the top of his fingers for some reasons. Then, he pointed it at the young man, “Life is nothing more than a drink!” Shouting at the top of his lungs, fingers outstrechted, the bartender’s sharp gaze had an intimidating air about it.
“Uh…what?”
“You see, kiddo, life is like a drink. The moment you are born, you are mere water, blank like a sheet of paper to be drawned on, or scribbled if you’re unlucky. Then, as you grow in life, your taste will begin to change, from the nutritous drops of milk to the sugar-pumping drinks that allow you to catch up to life’s rat race. But as you slowly burn out, you can only hope to rely on beer to dull your senses to your own sufferings. Heh, a mere knockoff, beer is. It can never reach the height of wine!”
“Well, wine and beer are made from different ingredients and yeast.” The youth’s words cut down the bartender’s mood in one swing. With a frown visible between his eyes, the bartender continued his lecture.
“Why yes! That is why, some are fated to be beer, while others are destined to be wine! However…” There was a short pause, “There’s one difference between wine and good wine. Can you guess, you widdle baby?”
“Time.” One word to cut down a remark. A new achievement, for Lucas was more of a flowery speaker than the straight fact-man.
“Wow, you really know my stuff!” Raising his jazz hand, the moustached man’s grin spread even wider, “Humans are like that, too. Time is a key ingredient for a perfect human, for only through time can knowledge and experiences are sapped into your mind, refining your soul until it reached pefection. Perfection takes time, and you cannot rush it. The only thing you can do is lie in wait and welcome the wisdom that comes with age. Believe me, I talk from experience myself.” He lifted his head high, his heart presumbly filled with pride that he had shared his precious gem of knowledge.
“…I’ll keep that in mind.” Lucario then looked to his side, at the druken soldier. Only after he had gotten a clear look at his face did he realize it was Torvin, another gladiator that he had met once in a party. Words as faint as a whisper slipped his mouth like the songs of the wind.
“Why…why me… I got a good life…a wife and chi…” His words were barely spoken, his red face laid bare on the wooden counter, drool dripping from his mouth. It was an unpleasant sight. “Why must I fight to die… for something I don’t care?”
“Sometimes, in life, you just have to endure. Only then, may fortune smiles upon you. I can only wish for your luck… friend.” With one quick motion, Lucario bowed his head to the bartender for his words and bourbon, and left without haste.
“Sigh… the world will keep on spinning, whether I want it or not.” Looking at the clear blue sky that promised his future, he raised his fist high above his head, “Let’s see how the rest of the day will turn out.”
Torvin (Tremorfist): Military training, explosives, stimulants, various weapons training.
The stories below are posted in the order that they were submitted and may not be the order in the title or of the character blurbs above. When giving feedback (and you should), please keep the authors of the respective stories anonymous even if you know which one it is.
"Why do Bars have to have such wierd names?"
“Alright everyone, time for Happy Hour!”
An uproarious cheer resounded throughout the bar that Torvin frequented as the bartender shouted this out. It was happy hour, only once a week was this momentous occasion, it was a time of celebration, it was a time of brotherhood, it was a time of getting alcohol at substantially reduced prices for a short period of time.
Despite this being a fortunate bit of luck for the man, Torvin didn’t seem quite as happy as the other patrons of the bar were. His head leaning slowly against the mahogany countertop, prompting a fellow at his side, a rather burly bar goer, to mutter toward him, “Y’had enough lad?”.
Torvin couldn’t help but glance at the second pint he had ordered this evening, relatively untouched since he had ordered it, perhaps the man was mocking him, or, more realistically, probably wanted to see if he could obtain his untouched drink.
“I’m fine, just a bit exhausted.” He said in response, but with a rather defeated sigh, shoved the glass over toward the man, who took it with a wide and gap-toothed grin, “Yer alright mate.” The man chortled, slamming a hand against Torvins military jacket as he began to chug down the ale with a grin.
He began to pull himself up after a few moments of this, the cheery mood in the bar were not to his liking this evening. He had just begun to make his way toward the exit before his downcast eyes picked up a flicker of activity, something, or somebody he had not expected to see in the bar.
Walking into the bar was a young man, perhaps in his late teens, still looking like a person who would needed to be carded. A rather friendly grin plastered upon his face, his eyes hidden by his goggles.
Torvin blinked a few times, “…Luke?” he muttered, the man was a Wrhg contestant, this could mean several things, running into him at the bar, a challenge, a fight, or just a contrived coincidence.
It took several moments of racing mind before he had finally noticed that, Lucario, seeing him staring, had walked over and had flashed a similarly friendly grin, “Hey there Torvin, long time no see!”
Torvia nearly jumped out of his shoes, the rather twitchy man took a visible step back with a surprising amount of unease crossing his face. Lucario, not quite understand why he was like that, just gave another grin and said, “Calm down, calm down, just being friendly and saying hello.”
“O-oh, well, hello, Luke, it’s a pleasure to see you again, last time we saw each other was…holidays, North Pole, aye?”
For a moment he thought he saw the boy’s body stiffen, his posture not becoming hostile, but a rather cross look upon his face. “Don’t call me that.” He responded in a rather deadpan tone.
Torvin flinched again at this, he had no real reason to, almost every other member of the Wrhg had never been entirely rude or even partially dangerous to him, and he had more to worry about from his own organization than the Gladiators it became more apparent daily.
“I apologize, but it is nice to see you either way I suppose.” Torvin responded, putting on a rather forced smile toward Luke, the cheery attitude seemed at times to parallel his own rather optimist attitude, but the only thing he felt good about was heading back home.
“I was just about to leave, head back to the Clan hall or home to check on the wife and kid.” Torvin had begun to gesture toward the door in that, only to get his pointing hand slapped down by Lucario’s, a blazingly quick reaction that caused a jolt of pain to rocket up his arm.
Lucario winced at the bulging eyes that Torvin responded at with this, “Sorry, heh, didn’t know my own strength, but come on, stay a bit with me, I just got here and having a drink with a bud of mine will be much more fun than drinking alone.”
It wasn’t an argument that Torvin expected to win, so with an almost grudging sigh, he relented, though he did perk a brow at the term ‘bud’.
“Bud?” he calmly asked toward Lucario, who only gave a silly grin in response to this, and began to saunter over to the bar. “Do you have any drinks to recommend? He says, glancing back at Torvin who, at this point was just watching quietly
“Well, the ales always a pleasant drink.” He said with a small shrug, as he decided to wander back down to sit at a bar stool alongside Lucario, who had waved down the bartender, who had only managed a grimace at him. A tall wisp of an individual, balding and sporting a greying mustache, he peered over at the boy. A rather booming tone in comparison to his rather small appearance.
“Do you happen to have an ID?” he said with a rather unsettlingly grim glance over him. Lucario seemed to blink for a few moments at this, “I…I am not sure if I have it….” he began to say, shuffling through his pockets with a somewhat panicked expression upon his face.
The bartender perked a brow, looking down at the young man with a slowly raising eyebrow. “If you cannot give proof of your age…you will need to leave…”
Torvin rolled his eyes at this, looking toward Lucario, “I’m sure the wRHG has some form of identification or records you can look up, do you have that on you?” he offers helpfully. He didn’t want to see the kid kicked out, even though he wasn’t too keen on getting drunk.
A few moments pass, as Lucario finally manages to find a proper form of identification and the bartenders gives him a list of drinks and foods.
“Oi, quarter through happy hour!” the bartender shouts, causing plenty of the bargoers to slowly make their way over to the bar, another round or two was to be had.
Finally managing an order of ale, two in fact, Lucario pats a stool next to himself, gesturing Torvin over with a nod, “I don’t drink much, I wanted to aquire a taste for it, see what it’s like, didn’t mean to run into you, but the more the merrier!”
Torvin gives a rather weak shrug, “Outside of my clan, I don’t see many wRHG members unless they want to fight me, you can understand why I’d be a bit jumpy.”
Lucario had given a shrug, “Its money, its entertainment, a lot of people do it for the thrill of the fight, or to make ends meet.”
“Some are just sadists though, I was fortunate enough to not run into anybody who wants to do that, but, I’ve never been too relaxed around people in these situations…” Torvin muttered, he took the drink that Lucario had slid over to him, but had only taken a small sip after he said this, as opposed to Luke, who had downed a large draw, a big grin on his face.
“I can see that.” Lucario had said, not breaking his smile, “You should just relax though, there isn’t a bit reason to worry, you joined the Gladiators for a reason, and you will be fine on it.”
Torvin went silent at that, taking another draw from his ale, his head not quite bowing deeply, but enough to maybe cause a bit of a weaker gasp from him.
A few bar goers had looked over to see what had gone on, but were drowned out by the bartender
“Thirty Minutes to go!” the bartender yelled, halfway through happy hour.
Sitting directly next to him, Lucario flinched from the shout, but would have patted Torvins shoulder, “Is…there a problem?” he said this almost hesitantly, as if considering what to say to the man.
Torvin just continued to drink, his head bowed, as conversations in the bar began to drown out the two. He had a few moments to think before he finally gave a reply to Lucario.
“Never chose to join the wRHG.” He said simply, taking another drink, “It was always my company, my organization that caused me to go into battle. I put my life in danger, not because of some stupid thrill seeking, or honor, or anything, it’s because if I don’t…”
He goes silent again, taking another drink from his ale, finally emptying the mug. The bartender slammed down another mug next to him almost immediately. Luke, who had been steadily drinking away, had a small smirk to his face, a light flush on his face. He patted Torvin again,
“You’re a sad drunk, y’know that? C’mon, loosen up a little!” he said. Slapping him a bit. “Quit if ya don’t like it, live yer life normally, ya have kids or whatever, right?”
Torvin continued to drink away a bit at this, “My daughter and wife know about the wRHG, but not as much about why I am in it, they have…qualms at times.”
An involuntary shudder ran through Torvin as he bowed his head down, “…I feel like I still should go, it isn’t right to sit her and just ramble like this while, work to be done.”
As he stood, a tugging at his jacket stopped him, almost causing a small stumble from him. It was Lucario once again, but this time, something had changed in his eyes. His grip had a strange strength to it.
“Keep talking, get it out.” He said, his tone less relaxed, almost on edge, like he was trying to suppress something.
Torvin had never seen this from the usually happy Lucario, and he said, almost steadily“…I can’t leave this organization, unless they want to have me in a casket, or they fire me, which will most likely end in a casket.”
Lucario grimaced, “What’s the downside to staying then?”
“If I am going to be fighting people I interact with, if I make any friends with them…” he shrugs listlessly.
“You are afraid you are going to hurt somebody you care about?” Lucario finished for him, just looking at him with the continued just…frown.
“That I am going to have to betray people I care about, that I have to keep them, anybody at arm’s length, in the case they do the same for me.” He continued on, his tone low and melancholy.
“Fifteen minutes till full price!” the bartender roared, his deep voice still disturbingly coming from the frail man.
Torvin gave a rather defeated sigh, “It’s stress, it’s something I need to deal with.” He said, closing his eyes.
“If you are worried about it, you shouldn’t let it bottle up like that, don’t just wallow in it, you will get yourself sick, or worse.” Lucario said, not entirely friendly, but he did say it with a touch of concern on his voice.
Torvin shrugs, “It isn’t something I can easily talk about.” He said, giving a weary glance toward the ale he had left on the counter and perhaps thinking to drink a bit more before he left, but…something stopped him.
“I need to go back to my Clan.” He said, “I think I have an idea.”
A gleam was in his eye as he said this, as he began to pull himself away, he tossed a few coins on the counter toward the barkeep. Lucario followed along a moment later, going back to a rather cheerful smirk
A rather pleasant smile crossed Torvin’s face as he walked alongside Lucario outside of the pub. The stars had only just begun to come out as he breathed in the refreshing evening air. It seemed like it was going to be a rather lovely evening, and he was happy to be a part of it, as he turned to close the pub door, for a moment, he heard the last words being shouted out by the bartender.
“Ok, Happy Hours over, back to regular prices ya mugs.”
Staring at the tinted orange liquid that barely filled his shot, Lucario lifted up his goggled face, his words were whispers, fading into the gentle wind stirred by sparse ceiling fans.
"Are you sure?"
"Sure I'm sure, mate!" With a friendly smile, the bartender gave the young man a pat on his shoulder, "It's on the house, that shot of fine bourbon!" Twirling his ashen grey mustache, the older man looked past his customers, to find no one else besides Lucario and another druken soldier sitting at the counter. “But you sure are a strange fellow, to be ordering water in a pub in the middle of the day. And a teenager, at that!” He let out a warm cackle, as if to disperse the melacholic mood that used to pervade pubs.
“Yeah…” Hesistant for a few seconds, Lucario brushed his blue hair, trying to keep its ruffled style from going wild, “I just feel like drinking. And since I’m short on money, water seems nice.” He couldn’t bear himself to say it, for it was a nightmare, of all things, that shook his spirits. Unable to quell his uneasiness, the young man dediced to head to a nearby pub, both out of curiousity and necessity.
“So, how do you like it here? This here pub is the pride of our city, the heart of civilization itself!” His hearty chuckle, along with his ostentatious gestures, a grin soon spread across the youth’s face, amused by the bartender’s antics. “Well, more like the face of civilization. And not so much as the city’s pride as my own. But lemme tell ya,” Inching his face closer, his furrowed brows clearly visible on his bald forhead, the pub’s owner continued, “This place has been passed down the Drinkmight from generations to generations! And since my takeover, everyday is a full house! Well, night, but you get the idea.” After finishing ‘gushing’ about his accomplishment, he then shot a question at his customer, “So, how’s yours, boy?”
“The usual fighting and beating.” Yes… the usual stuff. In this city, there lies an organization by the name of Rock Hard Gladiators, aiming to entertain civilians and to give fighters a chance to prove their might and aid their causes. A staple example of the “bread and circuses” regime, minus the evil government, as far as he could see. “I occasionally travel, but fruitless it proved to be.” Letting out his worries with a sigh, the young brawler was annoyed. He joined the system to help himself, yet he was nowhere reaching his goal.
“Says… Rio, you there?”
What is it, Lucas? Echoing within his mind was the voice of his literal soulmate, Rio. Through unknown circumstances, he was trapped in a cube and upon release, ended up with Lucas, the body’s owner, since then. Little is known of his past, for he rarely mentioned it. And if he did, the only information he would divulge was his title as a legendary fighter, and his downfall was through others’ jealousy. Hearing the story again and again from his friend’s monotonous tone, Lucas could easily tell he was lying, though proving would prove to be difficult.
“What did you dream last night?” he interrogated his stowaway soulmate, hoping he could find answers to the nightmare that had consumed his consciousness.
I do not dream.The answer brought forth many implications. If he could not sleep, then Rio was forced to stay awake all the time, without an escape to the darkness that shrouded each night.
“I… I see.” He could see it coming, yet hearing it from the horse’s mouth was less satisfying than he’d expected. Then, a booming voice interrupted his monologue.
“What ya thinking, my dear child?” Raising his aged eyebrows, the bartender asked with a smile, one that hadn’t faded since Lucario first entered the premise.
“Just musing about life,” Bluntly and smoothly, just the way Lucas liked his words, “And why did my title go from mate to child?” Well, minus the last remark.
“Ah… good old ‘discussions of life’s meaning’. As if that topic hadn’t been done to death,” Ignoring the question, the older man shut his hazel eyes, focusing at the top of his fingers for some reasons. Then, he pointed it at the young man, “Life is nothing more than a drink!” Shouting at the top of his lungs, fingers outstrechted, the bartender’s sharp gaze had an intimidating air about it.
“Uh…what?”
“You see, kiddo, life is like a drink. The moment you are born, you are mere water, blank like a sheet of paper to be drawned on, or scribbled if you’re unlucky. Then, as you grow in life, your taste will begin to change, from the nutritous drops of milk to the sugar-pumping drinks that allow you to catch up to life’s rat race. But as you slowly burn out, you can only hope to rely on beer to dull your senses to your own sufferings. Heh, a mere knockoff, beer is. It can never reach the height of wine!”
“Well, wine and beer are made from different ingredients and yeast.” The youth’s words cut down the bartender’s mood in one swing. With a frown visible between his eyes, the bartender continued his lecture.
“Why yes! That is why, some are fated to be beer, while others are destined to be wine! However…” There was a short pause, “There’s one difference between wine and good wine. Can you guess, you widdle baby?”
“Time.” One word to cut down a remark. A new achievement, for Lucas was more of a flowery speaker than the straight fact-man.
“Wow, you really know my stuff!” Raising his jazz hand, the moustached man’s grin spread even wider, “Humans are like that, too. Time is a key ingredient for a perfect human, for only through time can knowledge and experiences are sapped into your mind, refining your soul until it reached pefection. Perfection takes time, and you cannot rush it. The only thing you can do is lie in wait and welcome the wisdom that comes with age. Believe me, I talk from experience myself.” He lifted his head high, his heart presumbly filled with pride that he had shared his precious gem of knowledge.
“…I’ll keep that in mind.” Lucario then looked to his side, at the druken soldier. Only after he had gotten a clear look at his face did he realize it was Torvin, another gladiator that he had met once in a party. Words as faint as a whisper slipped his mouth like the songs of the wind.
“Why…why me… I got a good life…a wife and chi…” His words were barely spoken, his red face laid bare on the wooden counter, drool dripping from his mouth. It was an unpleasant sight. “Why must I fight to die… for something I don’t care?”
“Sometimes, in life, you just have to endure. Only then, may fortune smiles upon you. I can only wish for your luck… friend.” With one quick motion, Lucario bowed his head to the bartender for his words and bourbon, and left without haste.
“Sigh… the world will keep on spinning, whether I want it or not.” Looking at the clear blue sky that promised his future, he raised his fist high above his head, “Let’s see how the rest of the day will turn out.”