GIVE ME FREEDOM / bowie

COLT MADISON. · 04-14-2021, 01:37 AM

[align=center][div style="width: 370px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4; color: black;"]—The sun had just sunken below the side of the mountain, leaving the sky a faded maroon color that was quickly turning to black. Colt sat outside the lodge on a large boulder, hands in the pockets of his oversized coat. He watched a patrol head inside for the day, his legs bouncing restlessly. The anxiety that he had been feeling the past few days was keeping him on edge; his adrenaline levels were always spiking, heart always pounding, mind always racing. It was exhausting - and he needed an escape, even just for a little while.

The young man stood, letting out a long breath. He kept drawing blanks when it came to figuring out how to deal with Xavier; it just didn't seem like there was a way out without something horrible happening. He'd gotten himself into this mess, sure, but did he really deserve all this? He pushed past the lodge's front entrance, his cheeks flushing red as he was enveloped by the warm air inside. Normally, when he felt this crappy, he would've gone right to Drew - but things were... weird with her at the moment. He didn't really know what was going on.

Colt noticed a familiar face out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Bowie walking towards the kitchen. The mercenary's face lit up; Bowie was one of Drew's friends, and the two of them had gotten along quite well the handful of times that they'd spoken. "Bowie - hey!" he would call out, jogging over. He swallowed his anxiety for the time being, flashing a half-smile. "You busy? I was thinking of grabbing a couple of drinks at Freddie's bar." Was he allowed to take drinks from Fred's bar? He... honestly wasn't sure. Eh - he could just pay the guy back later. He needed some alcohol in his system - to help calm his nerves, block out the horrible thoughts for a bit.

ASPEN B. · 04-15-2021, 07:41 AM

[align=center][div style="width: 400px; text-align: justify; font-size: 11px; font-family: calibri; letter-spacing: .6px; color: #494949;"]bowie toys with his hands as he sits on the edge of his bed, eyes darting around the room to find something to catch and keep his attention for more than a couple fleeting moments. he gets to his feet, grabbing one of his many beanies from the top of his dresser and puts it on his head. nerves eat alway at him, flaring up his adhd even worse than usual, he can’t leave his hat alone. maxine’s pregnant... the news hasnt left his thoughts since she’d told him. while he does like her, a lot, the two weren’t even actually dating... they’d just been spending more and more time together, getting reallll close. the idea of a kid makes his stomach flip and the color drain from his face; he’s never been one for deep, long-term, serious relationships. hell, bowie hates even staying in one place for very long, this is probably the longest he’s spent in a place in a long time. it was actually starting to feel like home, but now he wants to run.

the classic long black coat is slipped on and aspen’s ready to go find anything to distract him. plus, he kind of doesn’t want to see max, so hopefully she won’t be able to find him if she goes looking. aspen covers his mouth with his hands, breathing into them to try and warm them up some. hearing his name does catch his attention, eyebrows raised as he looks for who called for him. colt! perfect, honestly, the two men made fast friends through drew. ” you busy? i was thinking of grabbing a couple of drinks at freddie’s bar. “ now, there’s an idea. [color=#80bfff]” fuck, yeah, man, i need a drink, “ bowie admits, heading towards colt and the door, pushing it open after he goes through for his companion. [color=#80bfff]” warning you, i’m tryin’ to get absolutely shitfaced, hope that’s okay, “ he laughs, even though it’s a genuine statement. he hasn’t talked to anyone about the news, really. he’s mentioned it to drew, but that’s about it. colt might be a nice person to confide in.

he shoves the door of the bar open, arms extended out, [color=#80bfff]” one of everything, please, “ bowie jokes with a wide grin. picking his barstool, he plops down and pets the one next to him, [color=#80bfff]” dude, what are you drinking for tonight? “ he asks colt.

COLT MADISON. · 04-29-2021, 02:54 AM

[align=center][div style="width: 370px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4; color: black;"]— As soon as Bowie agreed to go, Colt could feel himself visibly relax. He grinned. "You wanna get messed up tonight, huh? That makes two of us." He absolutely needed this stress relief. Maybe he should've been sitting in his room, trying to conjure up some sort of plan to deal with Xavier - but he had been doing that for hours already. He was mentally exhausted, running on fumes. Besides, Eddie had only just gotten back in town - there was no way that Xavier could pull anything so soon, not without gaining some of his trust. The mercenary needed to slow down for a bit, and doing stupid drunk stuff with a friend sounded like the perfect way to do just that. He could already tell that this was going to be a fun night; he would deal with the repercussions - and figure out how to deal with Xavier - in the morning.

He followed behind Bowie, lips twitching into a lazy half-smile. The doors open, and he basked in the warm golden glow of the bar, greeted by the sweet smell of an assortment of liquors and beer. There were only a handful of other people inside, who glanced in Colt and Bowie's direction for a moment before returning to their own business. There certainly wasn't any sort of party going on, but that didn't matter - they would make their own.

Colt sighed, sliding onto the barstool beside Bowie. He drummed his fingers on the counter, his gaze sliding over the wide assortment of available beverages as Bowie questioned him on what he'd be drinking. He lifted his eyebrows, giving a soft whistle. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. I usually just drink whatever someone hands me." He chuckled. "What's your go-to? You like shots? We could bring out the big guns and start with tequila. That should be fun." Bowie did say he wanted to get shit-faced, right? Tequila was always a good way to go.