@gvmelost said: " The bar is CLOSED. " the feline yelled in his usual, drunken voice. His whole body weight was leaning against the counter of his bar, his hand desperately grasping onto the nearest bottle of whiskey. Just when he lifted his head up to see the source of the noise, Husk realized who it was. " You're up late, Angel. Even I'm gonna pass the fuck out soon. "
❝ -- CLOSED, huh? Why’s that? Ya drink all the liquor in here up by ya’self? Ha! ❞ He cackles, swinging into a seat with that signature, self-satified grin. It was so cute to watch the card-shark struggle to maneuver through his inebriation.. but he’s in a good mood, so he’ll have some pity on the poor schmuck and slide the bottle within his reach with a gloved hand. ❝ You kiddin’? I just got back! ❞ Late nights were nothing new for him, after all; he lived for the night -- bright lights, fast money, hard drugs and cheap thrills. In a way, Husk could likely empathize. ❝ I ain’t quite ready ta wind down fer the night -- c’mooon, don’t make me drink alone! ❞












