Post by Caillen Olivier Blackwood on Apr 29, 2012 14:13:44 GMT -5
You wont find faith or hope
d o w n a t e l e s c o p e
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Caillen was planted at the booth he usually sat in, sitting rather casually. Or what appeared to be a casual position, but really, if you knew Caillen you'd know that he actually seemed pretty pissed. Which wasn't shocking considering he was. He was a notorious drug dealer amongst the criminal world, but rarely went about and sold his merchandise himself. He'd become to popular amongst his occupation, and it could be dangerous for him. Although he was the boss of the business, he tried to make sure as few people as possible knew who he really was. He was commonly known as Irritum, which meant broken in Latin. Currently, one of the men he hired to sell his drugs was trying to explain how almost all of the goods he'd been given to sell had simply disappeared. Caillen, however, already knew the answer, and sat silently listening to the mans babble.
After a few glasses of liquor later, Caillen waved off the man with a considerably generous deal and a small threat. He wasn't in the mood to deal with such people tonight, and had been drinking since twelve this afternoon. He hated his job, but had started when he was young and foolish, somehow making his business famous and therefore hard to walk away from. Oh, how he wished he could be flirting with a pretty lady, or at home getting drunk there. However, he was alone at his booth, and would have to mind it until the night was about over, or until someone else bothered to talk to the surly drunkard. He was almost always in a casual, smug, flirty mood, but underneath the facade was a force not to reckon with. It was buried under a haze of alcohol and will, however, and beside the frustration from enduring the ignorant worker, he was in a pretty decent mood.
Caillen had decided earlier he hadn't want to make continuous trips back and forth between the bar and his seat, so he had settled on purchasing a whole bottle. Money wasn't a problem for him, considering his career choice payed pretty well, and his parents would pay for his expenses if he really needed it. Caillen was the kind of guy to feel the need to pay for himself though, and rarely ever talked to his parents about money. Or anything, really. They were so bent up on him being the perfect socialite, they never really got then chance to know each other. And in Caillens defense, out of the criminal world he was known as a womanizing, charming, funny drunkard, which wasn't to bad. Most rich folk liked to drink and cheat anyways, though Caillen wasn't really much of a womanizer. Those were mostly rumors. He was, however, a drunkard. He'd been trying to quite, but the last few days hadn't been going to swimmingly, and he felt like he needed the pick me up.
Caillen let his arm hang on the back of the booth seat, and sat back casually, a little lazy really. A few people tried to get him to dance, but he was content with sitting with his bottle of liquor. He didn't even socialize with anyone until he felt the table shake, as is someone had bumped into it. He looked up, and a flirty, side smile pulled at his lips "Careful, now" he said lazily to the girl.
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[/left]notes: finally, I got it up xD
wearing: look at picture ^.^
words: enough ;D
