All Kinds of Ruins (open)

[Nikkolas Blagetovich]

"Well, I don’t have a lot to compare it to, I guess… I’m not really much of a drinker."

Nikk was a little bit surprised. "No, not drinker?" Nikk thought that Bobby looked like one of those popular type kids that he had watched on tv at the Brotherhood. Nikk shrugged, you can't judge a book by it's cover. "Oh, sorry then. As you can see, I have slight problem. He shook the bottle.

"Um, I mean… are you, you know, like Josh?"

Nikk didn't notice Bobby's little fumble, the alcohol was starting to hit him quickly. If he stopped drinking now with the amount of alcohol he had already consumed, he would be blissfully drunk. "No, I am not stable like him, and I am not able to make art like him and you." His tone started to lighten.

"I, um… I think I’ve had enough to drink for one night. Maybe I should get going… get to my own bed before I pass out, y’know?"

Nikk nodded, "Da, I agree." He coughed a little and wiped his face with his hand. "Vould you mind valking home vith me? I am little messy." The alcohol was taking even more effect now. He stood up, forgetting to 'cover' his little tab that he's racked up. He would usually 'call' the bar tender over and he'd take care of it like that, but he wasn't thinking of it now.

[Bobby Drake]

> " Vould you mind valking home vith me? I am little messy."

"Nah, ‘course not," Bobby replies, getting a little woozily to his own feet. "I mean, it ain’t like it’s out of my way, right?" He laughs uproariously at his own joke before succumbing to a sudden attack of the hiccups.

“Hey, kid! Forgetting something?” Bobby turns around at the hostile voice to find the bartender staring pointedly at the empty bottle and making money-related hand gestures, a completely unmistakable cue that, in his inebriated state, nevertheless takes him several moments to work out. "Huh? Oh! Sorry," he says, returning to the bar somewhat embarrassed, "I forgot."

He fumbles out his wallet and fishes through it for cash, then realizes there’s not quite enough of it to cover the cost. Wow! Remind me to buy from liquor stores next time, the markup here is crazy… besides, wasn’t Nikk buying me a drink? Ah, whatever. He pulls out a credit card, drops it on the floor, picks it up and hands it to the bartender.

That little ritual taken care of, he heads back towards the door, only to be stopped again by the same voice. “Hey!” He’s even more embarrassed to see the bartender waving his credit card in the air. “You ain’t driving home or nothing, right?”

"No, no… (hic) just walkin’ back to the Instu… um, the Inisti… back home, is all." he mutters, retrieving his card. The bartender mutters something about not getting lost on the way home as he attempts, yet a third time, to make it out the door.