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Like a bad habit

  It was the middle of the day, very few people headed into a bar in the bright light of day, much less the Bucket. It was a place for night time relaxations, quiet dealings in the dark, whispers in deepened shadowed corners, or the few who genuinely just wanted a cheap drink where they wouldn’t likely be bothered to socialize. But now, in the bright of day, the front door swung open, heavy iron toed boots carrying the rough and gruff figure over the worn floor and past the blood stain into the bar proper before he stopped.

  Rusty’s red eyes flicked about the empty room, drawing in a heavy sniff as if clearing his sinuses. He cocked his head towards the west wall for a moment and looked up the stairs before striding up to the far end of the bar, looking down to the skull that rested there beside that red candle.

  “Hello there, darlin. Missed me?” His hand landed on the top of the skull, slipping over the side as if it were no more than a playful child he was ruffling the hair of. Fingers curled under the jaw as he picked it up and kissed it on the teeth, turning it over as he drew it away. “Got another note fer ya ta keep fer me.”

  That grubby thumb was licked and swiped over his cap, smearing a curved mark above the old smeared dot, a faint trace of blood and saliva too red to not be fresh, yet the old one still looked as red and bright as ever instead of darkened as blood was supposed to with age. He patted the cheek bone and set the skull back down on the bar. “Keep it safe fer me, eh, darlin?”

  He lifted the candle beside the skull up and over his head, tilting his head back to take a bite out of the bottom and set it back down as he chewed on the wax for a moment, heading behind the bar to find a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses, filling both and placing the bottle back on the shelf. Setting one glass down beside the skull, he swallowed that wad of red wax and tipped the other glass up, downing it in one go and thunking the glass down on the bartop.

  With that, the rough-houser let out a sigh and stepped back around the bar, heading for the door. “Be seein ya, darlin.” And out he went to head for the docks in search of a shipment of canned green beans.

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13 Comments

  1. Bookworm Hienrichs Bookworm Hienrichs October 20, 2010

    ((Canned green beans? He *is* evil!

    The only thing worse would be canned peas. *grimace*))

    • Cyan Icewolf Cyan Icewolf October 20, 2010

      ((Canned Brussel Sprouts *shivers at the thought of it*))

      • Mr Tenk Mr Tenk October 20, 2010

        pickled fiddleheads. looks like green tentacles in ichor.

    • Rusty Bones Rusty Bones October 20, 2010

      ((What, ain’t you people had salt pork ‘n’ green beans?! Y’ain’t know whatcher missin!)) :looks at the crates, wondering what WOULD draw the urchins:

        • Rusty Bones Rusty Bones October 20, 2010

          Ain’t a smell that carries on the wind too well. ‘Sides, ain’t good at keepin the body goin.

          • Cyan Icewolf Cyan Icewolf October 21, 2010

            You don’t know the right sweets then. Cookies and chocolate carry very well in the wind. ((and believe me about the chocolate there’s a factory in Chicago that makes the downtown smell like brownies every so often when they produce theres)).

      • Maggie Lynwood Maggie Lynwood October 20, 2010

        *holds up a steaming savory pie and a flute* Nuffink draws little ‘uns like hot food and music…

        • Rusty Bones Rusty Bones October 20, 2010

          Heh, got a way to get a free one fer every urchin in town? An I ain’t no piper.

          • Maggie Lynwood Maggie Lynwood October 20, 2010

            Lots o’ bleedin’ hearts in this town, Mr. Bones, why doncher try askin’ one o’ them bakers if’n they’d do it, fer charity like. 

             

          • Rusty Bones Rusty Bones October 21, 2010

            Hah, my reputation, they’ll think I’m either out ta get a free meal or usin em ta get a free meal a the kids.

    • Naveen Bovarro Naveen Bovarro October 20, 2010

      ((*glances up from her canned peas with a guilty look*))

  2. Bianca Namori Bianca Namori October 20, 2010

    ((sighs and rubs her nub worriedly. “Those poor dears….”))

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