1 What's your story?||Open, No Kill|| Fri Jul 12, 2013 7:24 am
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Chapter One – The Story
Everyone has a story to tale, what's yours? – Taigen Kichirou.
“What will you have?” The black haired female bartender asked, Kichirou, having just gotten finished attending to the other patrons of the Shushaya Pub. Green chartreuse gems locked eyes with the woman who was dressed in an unflattering outfit, though it did show a generous amount of cleavage, no doubt in order to entice the males to spend more time here and subsequently buy more food and sake. Unfortunately for the woman, Kichirou knew that trick well and didn't fall for it.
“Sake.” That was all the man said, having giving a pause before hand to collect his thoughts, all the while rolling a dice over and under his knuckles. The bright red item, glistering when light rays hit it. “Just none of that weak shit. . .” He added, as if it was an after thought. While he could careless about the strength of sake, for some reason he wanted something stronger. A chuckle escaped his lips as he watched, disinterestedly, the backside of the bartender walk away, trying and failing to sway, from him to get what he asked. She was trying to hard to be sexy. . .such a shame.
“Here you go. . .” The sound an ochoko cup being placed on the bar cause Kichirou to glance at the female bartender who was in the processing of pouring the alcohol into the black cylinder cup – till it was half way full. Pocketing the dice, he wrapped his hand around the cup and brought it to his lips, taking a sip of liquid. Savoring the taste of the sake sliding down his throat, Kichirou eyes cut at the bartender who hadn't moved from her spot and was smiling. . .
“Yes?” He asked, finishing off the cup of sake and setting it back on the table. He just wanted to spend a nice evening at the Shushaya pub, but alas it seems like the female affront of him wanted something.
“Hmm, Hi. I'm Aoi. “ She introduced herself, stretching out her hand, which Kichirou grasps in a handshake while introducing himself as well. The woman would than moved towards a fellow bartender, words were exchanged, before Aoi moved from behind the counter making her way to the empty seat beside Kichirou. Though not before getting her butt slapped by a drunken patron who obviously wanted her, for the lust was clearly shown in his eyes.
“Such pigs. . .” The gambler mumbled, though loud enough for Aoi to hear. He slide over a napkin for her to dry up the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes. Kichirou eyes shot a glance over at the drunken man who was leering at him with envious and hatred. The hatred grew more when Kichirou moved his chair closer to the woman, blocking the drunken patron's view.
“So . . . What's your story?” He asked, waiting to here the story of Aoi. For if there is one thing Kichirou knew.
Everybody had a story to tell. . .