Blood v1: Decisions - Babydoll, Babydoll

Blood v1: Decisions :: Dark Water Ridge :: Kiss Nightclub :: Babydoll, Babydoll

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Topic: Babydoll, Babydoll (Read 37 times)

Jarin McClellan
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Joined: Sept 2007
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Babydoll, Babydoll
« Thread Started on Sept 30, 2007, 8:14pm »

Against her overprotective twin brother's better judgement, Jarin went out alone. She had become so frustrated with him nowadays, she really did need to get away from him for awhile. So, despite his protests, she went to the local nightclub. Of course she invited Cole to come along, but he despised these sorts of places with a passion. Apparently the noise and lights bothered him or something. She figured he was just shy. The thought made the corners of her mouth twitch up as she pushed her way inside. She was instantly met with smoke and angry music and chattering, but it didn't bother her at all. She loved it.

Before long, the tall red-head wearing the blue tank top that perfectly matched her eyes and the black skirt that stopped just above her knees was sitting at a crowded table. Her brother had glared at her when he saw what she was wearing, but she had purposely ignored him. There was nothing wrong with being just a little revealing every once in awhile, for crying out loud. It wasn't like it would hurt anyone.

On the table in front of her was a row of shot glasses, most of them already empty. Only a couple more were filled with an ominous brown liquid. The burly man sitting across from her stared at her with bleary eyes as he reached out unsteadily for another shot. The men who were surrounding the two of them were laughing and chanting things. The man brought the glass to his lips but before he could drink it, it slipped from his fingers and then he slowly slumped down to the table himself. Jarin brought her own glass to her lips and downed it in one go, slamming it down loudly on the table with the clamor of glass on wood. A fresh roar of laughter erupted from the men as she raised her fist into the air and then she got to her feet.

She moved over to the bar on surprisingly steady feet for someone who had just drank so much, the jeering continuing at the table she had just left. She didn't seem drunk at all. Impossibly sober, as a matter of fact. The only way to tell she'd been drinking was that her normally china-pale cheeks were currently a very ruddy, rosy pink. And as soon as she sat down on the stool, the bartender walked over and she ordered a glass of Flors de Cana rum. She paid him and immediately took a swig, not seeming to notice anyone approach her.

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