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xp_logsWhile at one of her usual haunts, Cammie meets a kindred spirit.
The night was cold, but you wouldn't know it for how much bars like this caused you to sweat. Cammie had even pulled off her leather jacket, sitting in her usual place wearing a boy beater, a short plaid skirt and her stompin' boots. She loved those boots, but not as much as she loved a bar that actually kept various bottles of poison around for her. Her glass was some mixture of who-knew-what. She had asked the bartender to surprise her and he had, she was still trying to figure it out based on taste. It had a hint of antifreeze in it, a dash of brake fluid and what tasted like acid. At least it had a bite of acid in it. And was that comet?
She swirled it around in her mouth a bit, trying to figure it out, watching the crowd. She was on the prowl for one of two things tonight, a fist fight or a fun night. It didn't seem this bar was about to break out in violence and she wasn't going to start anything, so it left her looking over the guys in the crowd.
A commotion began on the other side of the room, recognized universally as the beginnings of a drinking challenge. Regardless of the location and alcohol (and type of bills) involved, the eager buzz and passing of money back and forth never changed.
A young man in blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt featuring the 'Mr Yuk' face grinned and pointed at the small table in front of him. A twenty dollar bill and a jar of what by the label would appear to be rat poison were set down on it. Without his grin breaking, the young man cracked the seal and tipped the entire bottle back.
A few wannabe frat boys picked up the inevitable "Chug! Chug! Chug!" chant, which spread to some of the nearby onlookers. The center of attention leaned farther and farther back, until he pulled the bottle from his lips to highlight the fact that only a few drops came out. He recapped the bottle and slammed it on the table to raucous cheers and applause, and he pocketed the twenty.
Cammie saw it, and raised an eyebrow. It could have been fake, people did a lot of things to con others out of money, but there was a way to tell for sure. She took her shot glass with her as she walked over, grabbing her jacket in her free hand and forcing her way past the frat boys, one of whom seemed to know her - or recognize the bandaged arm enough to get out of her way.
"I'll take some of that," she said sweetly, putting her cup down. From here it did smell like something she would drink, so now she was doubly interested. Helped out by the fact the guy was more than easy on the eyes.
The young man raised his eyebrow, but figured whoever it was knew what she was getting into. And at worst, a few drops of rat poison would necessitate a quick trip to an emergency room, but not likely be fatal. "Be my guest," he told her.
With a grin, and not taking her green eyes off of him, Cammie reached out and grabbed the bottle, before putting it to her lips and taking a long pull off of it and put it down, pushing her glass forward, "Only right we should share. Since this is the real deal."
Well, perhaps he'd left more than a few drops in the bottle. If this girl wanted to live dangerously, then... The loser of the previous bet surged forward from the crowd, pounding a fist on the table. "Double or nothing," he growled and slammed a bottle labeled 'muriatic acid' down.
"Ah, the good stuff." 'Mr. Yuk' cracked the seal of the bottle and took a sniff. "2009. A good year." He passed the top to Cammie to smell. "Shall we?"
"I'm an antifreeze gal myself," Cammie said, inhaling and considering it. It smelled good anyway, "So, to the.... what? I can tell you right now I'm not going to fucking drop dead or fall over drunk," unless she really managed to overload herself which she didn't see happening on anything she could get from a bar. "Fuck, I wouldn't mind just conversation," she said, popping the cap in her mouth for a moment before taking it out and putting it down on the table, "How often you meet someone like us, after all?"
Please, don't fucking be one of my 'mom's' science experiments... he was too hot to be related to her, right?
"No clue. I figure there's gotta be some people out there - being immune to toxins..." He paused and poured them each half of the bottle, tossed his share back, and held out his hand until the bettor put another twenty in it. "...seems like an evolutionary win, y'know?"
"Yeah, or just a supremely fucked up joke by nature," Cammie returned with a laugh, taking her own shot easily, "I haven't seen you around before, you live in the city?"
"Just outside of town, really. Been trying to find a good place to hang, think I may have found it." He grinned and leaned forward, extending a hand. "Roland."
"Cammie," she said, experience making it easier extend her right hand, "Have to say I'm glad I stopped here tonight," she said with a grin.
Roland's hand lingered a bit longer than might have been necessary, and he continued to lean in close. "I'm glad too. That you stopped here."
Cammie grinned, he was a looker, that was for sure, "So, you can survive any poison?" she asked, playfully.
Roland's reply was just as playful. "I feel like I ought to be in a Bell Biv Devoe video or something," he quipped. "And yes."
Cammie was half tempted to cut her finger and test that but there wasn't any reason to put anyone else here in danger just to see... or risk his life, "Well then, I have a box with some bite to it," she said, with a laugh, "I can always share it."
"Well, in the words of Justin Timberlake, 'See, I'm wise enough to know when a gift needs givin', and I got just the one'." Roland's eyes flicked downward in a direction that made it very clear what kind of gift he meant.
"Is it a dick in a box? I fucking love dick in a box," Cammie said happily.
The night was cold, but you wouldn't know it for how much bars like this caused you to sweat. Cammie had even pulled off her leather jacket, sitting in her usual place wearing a boy beater, a short plaid skirt and her stompin' boots. She loved those boots, but not as much as she loved a bar that actually kept various bottles of poison around for her. Her glass was some mixture of who-knew-what. She had asked the bartender to surprise her and he had, she was still trying to figure it out based on taste. It had a hint of antifreeze in it, a dash of brake fluid and what tasted like acid. At least it had a bite of acid in it. And was that comet?
She swirled it around in her mouth a bit, trying to figure it out, watching the crowd. She was on the prowl for one of two things tonight, a fist fight or a fun night. It didn't seem this bar was about to break out in violence and she wasn't going to start anything, so it left her looking over the guys in the crowd.
A commotion began on the other side of the room, recognized universally as the beginnings of a drinking challenge. Regardless of the location and alcohol (and type of bills) involved, the eager buzz and passing of money back and forth never changed.
A young man in blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt featuring the 'Mr Yuk' face grinned and pointed at the small table in front of him. A twenty dollar bill and a jar of what by the label would appear to be rat poison were set down on it. Without his grin breaking, the young man cracked the seal and tipped the entire bottle back.
A few wannabe frat boys picked up the inevitable "Chug! Chug! Chug!" chant, which spread to some of the nearby onlookers. The center of attention leaned farther and farther back, until he pulled the bottle from his lips to highlight the fact that only a few drops came out. He recapped the bottle and slammed it on the table to raucous cheers and applause, and he pocketed the twenty.
Cammie saw it, and raised an eyebrow. It could have been fake, people did a lot of things to con others out of money, but there was a way to tell for sure. She took her shot glass with her as she walked over, grabbing her jacket in her free hand and forcing her way past the frat boys, one of whom seemed to know her - or recognize the bandaged arm enough to get out of her way.
"I'll take some of that," she said sweetly, putting her cup down. From here it did smell like something she would drink, so now she was doubly interested. Helped out by the fact the guy was more than easy on the eyes.
The young man raised his eyebrow, but figured whoever it was knew what she was getting into. And at worst, a few drops of rat poison would necessitate a quick trip to an emergency room, but not likely be fatal. "Be my guest," he told her.
With a grin, and not taking her green eyes off of him, Cammie reached out and grabbed the bottle, before putting it to her lips and taking a long pull off of it and put it down, pushing her glass forward, "Only right we should share. Since this is the real deal."
Well, perhaps he'd left more than a few drops in the bottle. If this girl wanted to live dangerously, then... The loser of the previous bet surged forward from the crowd, pounding a fist on the table. "Double or nothing," he growled and slammed a bottle labeled 'muriatic acid' down.
"Ah, the good stuff." 'Mr. Yuk' cracked the seal of the bottle and took a sniff. "2009. A good year." He passed the top to Cammie to smell. "Shall we?"
"I'm an antifreeze gal myself," Cammie said, inhaling and considering it. It smelled good anyway, "So, to the.... what? I can tell you right now I'm not going to fucking drop dead or fall over drunk," unless she really managed to overload herself which she didn't see happening on anything she could get from a bar. "Fuck, I wouldn't mind just conversation," she said, popping the cap in her mouth for a moment before taking it out and putting it down on the table, "How often you meet someone like us, after all?"
Please, don't fucking be one of my 'mom's' science experiments... he was too hot to be related to her, right?
"No clue. I figure there's gotta be some people out there - being immune to toxins..." He paused and poured them each half of the bottle, tossed his share back, and held out his hand until the bettor put another twenty in it. "...seems like an evolutionary win, y'know?"
"Yeah, or just a supremely fucked up joke by nature," Cammie returned with a laugh, taking her own shot easily, "I haven't seen you around before, you live in the city?"
"Just outside of town, really. Been trying to find a good place to hang, think I may have found it." He grinned and leaned forward, extending a hand. "Roland."
"Cammie," she said, experience making it easier extend her right hand, "Have to say I'm glad I stopped here tonight," she said with a grin.
Roland's hand lingered a bit longer than might have been necessary, and he continued to lean in close. "I'm glad too. That you stopped here."
Cammie grinned, he was a looker, that was for sure, "So, you can survive any poison?" she asked, playfully.
Roland's reply was just as playful. "I feel like I ought to be in a Bell Biv Devoe video or something," he quipped. "And yes."
Cammie was half tempted to cut her finger and test that but there wasn't any reason to put anyone else here in danger just to see... or risk his life, "Well then, I have a box with some bite to it," she said, with a laugh, "I can always share it."
"Well, in the words of Justin Timberlake, 'See, I'm wise enough to know when a gift needs givin', and I got just the one'." Roland's eyes flicked downward in a direction that made it very clear what kind of gift he meant.
"Is it a dick in a box? I fucking love dick in a box," Cammie said happily.
