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Liquid Communism
Mar 9, 2004


Out here, everything hurts.




In.

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Liquid Communism
Mar 9, 2004


Out here, everything hurts.




I'm in, with a :toxx: thanks to my last failure.

I will be unconscious when you post, so please give me whatever you've got for a Setting, RFT and a Song once you get new caps up. :v:

Liquid Communism
Mar 9, 2004


Out here, everything hurts.




Last Call
774 words


Prompt: Luck 777 words
Setting: In A Bar + 171 Words
Song: Hellbent by Mystery Skulls + 177 words
RFT: REAL MAGIC THAT LOOKS FAKE + 89 words **DIAMOND CAPSULE**

1214 words maximum.


"There's no way this is going to work, Ally." Dave said.

"It'll work, Dave. I know it!" She glared at him through the smoky air, the peppy true believer woefully out of her element in the corner booth of a nearly empty dive bar. "The ritual..."

The thin man with dark circles under his eyes ran his good hand through his already messy hair with a frustrated sigh before waving it at the stained paper in the middle of the table. "The so-called 'ritual' is just some 4chan copy-paste job, Ally. Look, I get it. You miss him too, but it's just kids' stuff! Like chanting 'Bloody Mary' in a mirror."

Slumping back in her seat with a huff, Ally glared at the paper as Art took a long drink from his cheap beer. "You don't believe in anything anymore, do you Dave?"

"I believe that I must have done someone dirty in a past life and I'm paying for it now," Dave said with a grimace. "Not that I don't deserve it."

"It's just a run of bad luck, man. It doesn't mean anything."

Dave's empty beer glass hit the table a bit harder than necessary, and he seemed poised to snap back before deflating. His reply was soft, almost defeated. "Yeah. Losing a friend, a hand, and a career all in the same day was just a bad toss of the dice and in no way my fault."

"It's not about fault."

"It sure feels like it is." Dave leaned back in his own seat, staring at the nicotine-yellowed drop ceiling. "I could have stopped him, Al. He was ten feet away, if he didn't push it he wouldn't have been in the open. But I didn't wave him off."

"Yeah, and if that beam had held out another two seconds he would have made it." Grabbing her own beer off the table, Ally gestured with it emphatically, a bit of foam sloshing over the rim. "We all know the odds, Dave. You don't go into the business without knowing that you're riding on fate's dice and praying she's not rolling sevens. Peter knew that better than anyone."

"Yeah, well Pete's luck ran out and here we are a year later, drinking lovely beer and pining away," Dave said. "Betting on the odds some bullshit internet hoodoo will actually work."

Ally just grinned. "It'll work. Trust me."


***


Three hours later the Coors Light clock over the pool table was ticking up towards midnight, and the two were still in their corner booth. Empty glasses and red plastic baskets with the greasy after-impressions of fried snacks at their elbows, they both silently watched the clock. Outside, a summer storm rumbled in across the plains, occasionally lighting up the nearly deserted parking lot with brief lightning.

Finally, Dave could take no more. "I'm gonna go for a piss. Tab's on me." He dragged himself to his feet and headed somewhat unsteadily towards the poorly lit restrooms at the back of the bar.

Ally just nodded and unfolded the crumpled and stained piece of paper she'd brought in earlier to re-read the final lines. As the clock ticked over to the witching hour, she said the words, folded the scrap of paper, and touched her lighter's flame to it.

It went up in a flash, as it was supposed to, and Ally's grin widened into a smirk.

Dave was making his way back aross the barroom when he heard the door open behind him, but he wasn't curious enough to look back as the stormfront's leading edge sent a gust of damp air and a hint of woodsmoke in with whoever had decided to make a late-night stop. He shot Ally a curious look as he settled back into the booth, noting the table had been cleared in his absence.

"Get tired of the dead soldiers?" He asked, politely ignoring the absence of the ritual paper. "I think we've got time for one more round before the storm hits."

He just got another smirk in return from Ally as she waved to the bartender. "Something like that. Slide over, Dave."

He sighed, shooting her a glare. "Ally..."

The arrival of a waitress with three fresh beers cut him off, and his eyes widened in shock as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Move over, man!"

A bulking, towheaded man shouldered his way into the seat, reaching across to fist-bump Ally before throwing an arm over Dave's shoulders.

"We got two hours 'til last call, and I have one hell of a thirst," Pete said, raising one frosty glass in his other hand. "Here's to absent friends!"

Liquid Communism
Mar 9, 2004


Out here, everything hurts.




Chili posted:

Liquid Communism

You open your diamond capsule and find inside…

a 20 Dollar Donation to the Charity of your choice! Let us know which that is!

RAINN, please. Thanks y'all for running this!

Liquid Communism
Mar 9, 2004


Out here, everything hurts.




I fuckin' love dialogue, I'm in.

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Liquid Communism
Mar 9, 2004


Out here, everything hurts.




VoidMart? In.

Also, can a guy get a Discord invite?

Liquid Communism fucked around with this message at 21:11 on Oct 22, 2019

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