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Happiness is a Warm Gun -anyone-
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2008 17:41:28 GMT -5
Tobias slumped over the bar, shot glass in hand and the bottle not far from view. He didn’t get drunk often, but today was an exception. The bartender was giving him a discount because he was Irish, and Tobias couldn’t complain. He lit a cigarette and poured himself another shot, thinking about calling his eldest younger brother just to say hello. He tossed back the liquor, still not feeling the slightest bit tipsy and ran a hand over his curtain of black hair. Life was being too damn difficult; he thought sourly thinking about everything from his daughter and her mom to all the sessions he had yet scheduled. What was wrong with these people? Didn’t they want to talk? Didn’t they want to get the weight of their chests of being alone and hurt because of their mutations? That’s what he was hired to do, after all, counsel the students and teachers through the constant struggle of everyday life. He looked down at himself, poking at his ribs, which rose tight against his skin like a recovering holocaust victim. “Too damn difficult,” he mutter to his cigarette as he sucked on the end.
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Post by aidonsious on Apr 29, 2008 17:57:01 GMT -5
It seems, that the night had fallen and there was nothing to do. Looking to the world around him, the lights illuminating from a nearby Tavern caught his eye. He could not drink alcohol but there is sure to be something in there that could result into something other than the blankness of the night sky. Wearing only a simple brown button up blouse and a pair of black slacks, Aidonsious pushed open the door and entered the Tavern. He was hit with people of all ages having a form of a good time. It seemed, he was in the right place to lighten up his after noon. Walking over to the bar, avoiding all the shadows at his feet, he waved to the bartender. " Root Beer Please." He said and with a little bit of an odd look from the bartender, he got what he ordered as he looked around, seeing what this tavern held within its heart.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2008 18:06:42 GMT -5
Tobias tugged at his tie, and dumped the ashes from his cigarette lazily into the ashtray. He raised an eyebrow at an order he wasn’t used to hearing around bars. He turned towards the boy who had spoken and frowned. “Aren’t you a little too young to be in here?” he asked, tossing back a third shot and sliding the little glass away from his bearlike hands. Tobias’ icy blue eyes ran from the top of the boys head down to his feet. He tilted his head and took a drag. “You go to the school?” he asked as smoke slowly poured out of his mouth and haloed around his neck and head.
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Post by aidonsious on Apr 29, 2008 18:11:34 GMT -5
His eyes went from the ice cubes in his soda, to a teacher he had a few classes with. This was a different side of him, a side that seemed to be more open than other teachers may do. Nodding. he took a sip from his straw. "I am 18." He said a little coldly. His appearance makes him look 13, he hated that but knew it was not anyones fault for making that mistake. "I can be in here if I do not drink those." He said, refearing to the teacher's shots. "I'm Aidonsious Zimuar...I had a few sessions with you."
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2008 18:31:29 GMT -5
Tobias looked him over again and shook his head. “Right, sorry…memory’s a bit hazy at the moment.” He inhaled again, and eyed the cigarette as he rolled it between forefinger and thumb as the smoke settled in his lungs. Damn the moon and damn the curse! He thought bitterly. He should have damned his drug use earlier in life, but didn’t think to. Wanting to quash the beast inside of him, Tobias had dabbled in an assortment of grass, mescaline, blotter acid, cocaine, uppers, downers, laughers, screamers, raw ether….you name it, he tried it. Clean as a judge now, and never having had trouble with alcohol, Tobias made it his purpose to help others through their mutations. The only problem, his brain was permanently screwed, despite the fact that he carried himself well.
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Post by aidonsious on Apr 29, 2008 18:35:52 GMT -5
"Forgive me for asking but.." Aidonsious said as he looked back to his root beer and took a sip before he continued. "Why do you hide who you are?" He asked, taking note of how he was acting to what he had known his 'therapist' to be. At times, he thought talking about the fears he had would help but seeing the way the one he talked to hid who he was, was he the right person? It is true, that Aidonsious knows nothing of him but taking not of the smoking and the alcohol in front of him, there was a little secret there.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2008 18:45:21 GMT -5
Tobias was done with the whisky, having four shots was enough for him to be tipsy, so the bartender took the bottle away noticing that he was no longer fondling the tiny glass. “I’m not…hiding myself. I just avoid it. BIIIG difference.” He lit another cigarette and stretched his back until it popped loudly. Someone had gone to the jukebox and selected a group of depressing songs ranging from The Stones, and Beatles to Maroon 5. “Why are you hiding yourself?” He asked thickly, wondering if his accent added to his loosened tongue made it difficult for him to be understood. “Dying your hair is denial of self.” He pointed to Aidonsious head with a rubbery flick of the wrist.
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Post by aidonsious on Apr 29, 2008 18:50:28 GMT -5
He took another sip and listened to the question. It was expected, because of what Aidonsious had said before. Looking over to him, he looked back to the glass and smirked, more of a force smile. "I like to chance it because I get sick of looking at the same thing in the mirror everyday." He lied and knew he would know but he did not want to talk about it, not here. He died it, in hope the more he changed himself, the more he would be able to find the control he needs to stop hurting others.
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2008 14:14:58 GMT -5
Tobias made a noncommittal nose and folded his hands loosely in front of his mouth, as if he was already diagnosing Aidonsious. He stared vacantly at his bar companion, but despite the listlessness of his icy blue eyes, there was no denying that the wheels were turning quickly. He traced the pale scar on his forearm with his eyes and lit a cigarette. “You want to expand on that.” Tobias finally spoke after what seemed like hours in his liquored mind. Being a therapist, most of his questions were formed in statements. He often told people what to do, or how they thought, guessing mostly but the trick in dialect usually pulled out what he needed to further development.
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Post by aidonsious on May 4, 2008 19:03:34 GMT -5
Aidonsious was a little thrown of with him wanting to know more. Looking into his already empty glass of soda, he held it in front of him and the bartender filled it. "I do not trust myself to explain what I must to a man who is not clear in the head." He said, avoiding riddles but looked to him. The appearance of the therapist was not one to be so memorable but the eyes showed he was thinking. But seeing if he truly was there to 'help' in ways he needed, was a mystery all in its own.
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Post by Deleted on May 6, 2008 22:51:29 GMT -5
“Oh, I’m still very coherent,” Tobias said a little loudly, partly to talk over the jukebox –which was now playing a song by The Steve Miller Band- but mostly because he was getting a little tipsy. He ordered a Shiner and tapped his fingers against the glass tabletop. A group of college undergrads sat in the corner, smoking a Hookah with an expensive taste flourishing through the pipes. “Why don’t you like yourself?”
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Post by aidonsious on May 7, 2008 12:23:29 GMT -5
Aidonsious raised an eyebrow to the question. He was uncomfortable in the place where he was basically getting a session from but as he got his rootbeer, he took a sip and than looked back over at him. "Would you like yourself if you feared to sleep and to wake up to what you could create?" He asked in a slow and lower tone of voice, as if hiding in problem out of shame. This man, was interesting. Because, it seemed that no matter what he had in his system, when it came down to doing what he was here for, he could do it. Maybe he should open up.
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Post by Deleted on May 7, 2008 20:37:58 GMT -5
Tobias raised an eyebrow at the response then belted out a deep barking laugh. “You’re not snorting blow are you? I hope not, because that sh*t will mess you up in the long run.” He tilted his head at the bartender who brought by a tall glass of water. The head movement reminded him of how tipsy he was getting, one more drink would make it official, three more and he’d be drunk. “You know, I was going through a phase of changing my hair colour every time life kicked the crap out of me. Like if I died my hair, I could hide from the personal daemons.” He laughed again, “turns out girls like the salt and pepper look I’m getting, so I keep my hair black. Not much of a point to dying it now when I’ve come to terms with who I am.”
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Post by aidonsious on May 9, 2008 18:25:38 GMT -5
He glared at him. "I never took drugs or even drank." He said a little coldly as he than straighted up a little bit and than faced him without looked away. "You want to analyze me, alright. When I was growing up, I never had parents. My sisters where my life until I lost my youngest to the worlds of reflections. Than we where split into foster homes where the people I was with beat me and hated me. My sister adopted all of us back when she turned 18 but they did something to me that-" He said and than shook his head as he faced his rootbeer once more. "you tricked me." He whispered to him.
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Post by Deleted on May 10, 2008 14:16:43 GMT -5
Tobias tilted his head like a dog getting very curious and confused about something simple. “How could I have tricked you?” he asked, his words starting to slur. “I’m…alsmot…drunk.” He crossed his legs and sipped from his glass of water. He sighed and raised his glass. “You’ve had a tough life, I’ll give you that.” Tobias let out a wide yawn and shook his head to perk him up. The light-headedness came back to him, leaving the feeling of semi-euphoria. Dare he tempt the fates and get himself another drink, or leave it as he was. He had to work in the morning, could he handle the headache?
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