#qrcw

@fallingcinderella

Qrow had been nursing a glass of whisky for most of 20 minutes now, this being his third such glass, fortunately he didn’t exactly have anywhere he needed to be anytime soon. As if he really ever did. He hadn’t had a linear directive for years. Most of the missions he was sent on anymore were more of the gather information and report back variety. As he took another nip, he turned on his stool to see exactly who had walked into the bar. A commotion in their wake, a young brunette in a full red getup was making her way to the bar. It was no secret that this woman had a commanding presence. 

“I’m used to whisky having a burn to it, but yours must be pretty strong if even the bartenders are afraid of you here!”

As he finished his statement, he downed the rest of his drink and requested another,

It only took a slight whiff for smoke glazed eyes to pierce towards the drunkard. The smell was all to familiar, and not a pleasant reminder. His glare held cold, watching the man down his drink without any sympathy to his liver. “Old man, your organs are going to pass out before you do. Why don’t you drink some water?” Though he figured it was impossible to dilute the concentration of alcohol passing through Qrow’s bloodlines.

Well, as of today, the song that is fitting my mood best is:

https://youtu.be/SgE2TA6hWVU

Otherwise, it would usually be a competition between: 

https://youtu.be/iFiNlLt8sJw

OR

https://youtu.be/1myWGjI3Duk

So there you go, 3 for the price of 1!! Enjoy!

The evening streets shone, the sidewalks slick with the the thick evening fog that sets in almost daily. The grey haired fowl was making his way home from his latest escapade. He wasn’t normally one for barhopping, but tonight specifically, he’d already shut down three or four. His drunken stupor further blurred the darting figure to the point of total obscurity. 

“Hey,” he said, his voice slightly raised, “who’s there?”

He was certain it was just some stray cat or dog that had been scrounging in the diner’s dumpsters for trash. How wrong he would turn out to be. There was a slight shuffling of boxes, a stack placed precariously, the majority of the corrugated cardboard resting against the neighboring building. To any sober individual, it would be evident that it was serving as an abode, Qrow’s mind however had been slowed enough that he didn’t fully recognize the weight of the situation he was encountering. The man bent down, trying to look inside of the crude structure. Losing his balance, he fell, landing squarely on a couple of boxes placed along the outside of the main infrastructure, thankfully not damaging any of the actual boxes that composed the makeshift home.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he shook his head as he stood back up, being more careful this time, he moved more boxes out of the way, “uhh, hello? I saw someone come in here, I don’t mean any harm.”

Hiccups oddly punctuated his speech as he continued, 

@oc-violahuntress2017

Qrow was just leaving the Vytal festival tournament. He enjoyed seeing all the fights, and he’d had a small will to get a front row seat, disguised as a virtually unnoticeable black bird. He opted not to simply to avoid the awkward small talk after someone saw his transformation. He did have a habit of sitting up in the nosebleeds so that nobody would notice if he was there or not however. He’d just set foot on the pavement of the Vale streets again, the only thing that could be heard was the soft scraping of dry leaves being blown about the sidewalks and roadways. Fall was a beautiful time in Vale, but it wasn’t as though it was unfamiliar. With forever fall being just outside the kingdom, one would never have to worry about missing the continent’s most colorful season. He was just beginning to get lost in his thoughts, pacing his usual route back home when a distant sound punctuated the leaves’ scuffling about. It was the sound of an actual scuffle. He livened his pace, hoping to reach the altercation before it’d reached it’s conclusion. There was a raven and violet haired maiden being harassed by several other people. He’d presumed them all to be strangers to her by how reserved the woman was acting. He strolled up to the gathering asking,