Hey look, alcohol.

Admin Posts : 50 Join date : 2013-03-01

((I'd prefer a man mainly because I bottom and... idk... If you're a girl character and confident in topping then by all means... other wise I'm an outright uke and I make Harold seem moderately gay....))

Harold sat at the bar of a popular club in Rhodes, on of the hot-stop party Islands filled with English tourists thinking they're actually getting a taste of what Greece really was. 'Hate to break it to ya,' He thought, shooting back his second shot of ouzo out of five. 'But Greece ain't a daily party.'
He stared down the five thin glasses, three of them had the small space within them filled with a clear liquid. These would be his first set of drinks for the night, but wont be the last. Men and women would approach the small man offering to buy him drinks, he'd only accept some. He had a system, only accept one strong drink and two of anything light and/or fruity, then leave. He didn't feel guilty mooching off of people, but hey if they offer something free might as well accept.

That night, siting in the club filled with men grinding against women on the dance floor with flashing lights of various colours and pounding music, Harold wore a leather coat over a white button up shirt with dark baggy cargo shorts held up on his thin waist with a worn leather belt. If he wanted to go blind that evening he would've wore a pair of brand name aviator sunglasses, but he wanted to keep his vision for the night - or at least what would remain after his drinks - so he kept his thin-framed glasses. He downed the third drink of his shots, amazed that despite the large crowd of people not a single one approached him and offered him a drink yet. He shuck off the thought, realizing he had only been there for half an hour even though it felt like an eternity.

Guest

Muhammad entered the club, not entirely sure why he was there in the first place. The stress of his government job must be getting to him. As he walked he could feel the eyes of bystanders as they surveyed his Egyptian garb. Let them stare He thought, adjusting his keffiyeh and walking up to the bar. He was never really one to take others' opinions into account, anyway.
He ordered a Masticha and just sat, sipping his liquor and watching his surroundings. The place was pretty full, more so than he expected, of tourists and Native Greeks alike. The techno music and flashing lights weren't really his taste but what could he expect from a place like this? Just then he heard a sigh to his left and looked over, finally noticing the man he'd been sitting next to for the past quarter-hour.
Even from just a glance it was obvious this man was a pure Greek. And from the 5 glasses of ouzo sitting in front of him (4 of which were empty) to the dark look in his eye it was obvious this man was not having a good time. The man sighed again, downing the fifth one quickly.
"Are you okay, man?" Muhammed asked in his semi-quiet voice. The man sat up quickly, seemingly surprised at the question.

Admin Posts : 50 Join date : 2013-03-01

Surprised, Harold looked over to the man that was now sat beside him. He gave a smile before replying. "Yeah I'm doing fine, I suppose," he answered, his smile unwavering. "You are tourist?"
He assumed the answer already, but wouldn't be too surprised if the man answered the opposite. He surveyed the man's attire, it stuck out like a thumb amongst the outfits worn by the sweaty dancers and red-faced drunks. Although he had to admit, the must've quite the back story. "I don't mean to offend you by the question, I'm just being as curious as always."
He kept the cheery demeanor, despite that whatever attention was on him was now on the oddly dressed man beside him.

Harold loved being the center of attention. It excited him and although being the life of the party was great, it held a large sum of responsibility; 'Is this going to hurt me?', 'Will it hurt anyone else?', 'I wonder when I should stop chugging', 'Aww man, I can't throw up now', the list goes on. Now that whatever potential he had of becoming the life of this party - if there was any - was now gone with the wind thanks to this... man.
'Names would be something smart to figure out,' he thought. 'It'd make blackmail so much easier to do!'
He held back a evil snicker, holding out his hand to the other man. "I'm Harold, you?"

Guest

He looked over at the man, his gold-green eyes narrowing in amusement as he smiled. "I'm not really a tourist but nor am I a native." He answered softly, "And your question doesn't offend me...I don't see why it would." He adjusted his keffiyeh again, more habit that actually fixing it. He watched as the man's smile turned slightly less hospitable as his eyes traveled down Muhammad's outfit, as if in disbelief in his "fashion-sense".
"I'm Harold you?" Harold asked as he held out his hand.
"Muhammad." He answered, grasping the hand in his own. "Do you come here often?" he asked, watching Harold curiously. The man had downed 5 ouzos in about 45 minutes, but was showing no sign of intoxication. He must be a frequent customer Muhammad thought, though he wasn't really sure why he cared so much.
He sipped some of his liquor as he surveyed the man in more detail. Something about Harold's outfit made him imagine that Harold was supposed to have sunglasses, instead of the clear ones he adorned now. He smiled at the thought of the man walking around the semi-dark nightclub with sunglasses. He sipped some more of his drink, enjoying the subtle burning sensation.