Some Don’t Get Far [ACTIVE//CLOSED]
Characters: Odd Thomas, Zidane Tribal.
Content: Being the designated driver (and by “driver” read as That Guy who overseas the local drunks back to their home to ensure they don’t get ambushed by crabs), Odd’s got himself into a bit of a tangle. One which involves the internal drama between Zidane and Garnet. Fun times.
Location: From Madison St. to Pete’s Tavern.
Time of day: Evening. Back-dated to this entry, probably a few days before the attack.
Warnings: Substance abuse, most likely swearing. Stuff like that.
While a frequent visitor of Pete’s Tavern, Odd Thomas was not much of a drinker. Never had been. In pretty much any scenario, particularly in a life or death situation he faced in this city, he preferred to keep his wits keen. The same didn’t go for everyone, however, and as he had made a promise to Harry to ensure Sunderland’s safe return home, Odd had pretty much upheld the task for drunks in general. Particularly close friends and friends of friends.
Odd hardly knew Zidane; only talked to him briefly at the party, and back then he had seemed more interested in the booze than he had in the actual party itself. While at the same he had chalked it up for being a mood for the holiday occasion, Odd began to develop suspicions when Zidane had announced his recent “need” for booze.
No one needed alcohol. Not really. It was merely an escape for a time, but it rarely solved anything. If it was one thing he knew about the stuff, though, it was that it was an escape people oftentimes turned to when they were trying to hide something. Moreover, when they wanted to retreat from reality. While Odd was a stranger on the outside of the situation, he could put two and two together, enough to know that something was definitely up. He just avoided a situation in which he was making any kind of assumption. Perhaps he would learn something from this encounter.
Perhaps.
This was why, while not a drinker himself, there was no one better than Odd to volunteer for the job of playing adult chaperone. With the hotel not far from the cathedral, Odd figured it wouldn’t even be a long wait before Zidane showed up. If anyone was going to look after a friend of Garnet’s, it might as well be him.
There was no need to rush things. Having been busy, he could use some time of leisure, and some time of figuring out the situation between these two. So he waited, lounged over a bench with both arms hanging over the top. He had parked himself, quite content in the cold with his bundled up hoodie and jeans, snow boots which served the weather conditions fine. He tapped his foot to the beat of a silent song, reminding him only of an unnamed tune.
Calm, composed, not to mention healthier than he had been at the party, fortunately, Odd was the picture of patience. Besides, there had been plenty at the cathedral keeping him occupied. Looking after Lilia, being haunted by the spirit of her worried father...
One of these days he ought to do something about that, but Dr. Pascalle rather worried him.
No rush, though. No rush. Some things were best taken care of when dealt with in baby steps. He could wait here all night if he had to. It was a nice evening, after all, and the moon shown bright in the darkening sky.
Content: Being the designated driver (and by “driver” read as That Guy who overseas the local drunks back to their home to ensure they don’t get ambushed by crabs), Odd’s got himself into a bit of a tangle. One which involves the internal drama between Zidane and Garnet. Fun times.
Location: From Madison St. to Pete’s Tavern.
Time of day: Evening. Back-dated to this entry, probably a few days before the attack.
Warnings: Substance abuse, most likely swearing. Stuff like that.
While a frequent visitor of Pete’s Tavern, Odd Thomas was not much of a drinker. Never had been. In pretty much any scenario, particularly in a life or death situation he faced in this city, he preferred to keep his wits keen. The same didn’t go for everyone, however, and as he had made a promise to Harry to ensure Sunderland’s safe return home, Odd had pretty much upheld the task for drunks in general. Particularly close friends and friends of friends.
Odd hardly knew Zidane; only talked to him briefly at the party, and back then he had seemed more interested in the booze than he had in the actual party itself. While at the same he had chalked it up for being a mood for the holiday occasion, Odd began to develop suspicions when Zidane had announced his recent “need” for booze.
No one needed alcohol. Not really. It was merely an escape for a time, but it rarely solved anything. If it was one thing he knew about the stuff, though, it was that it was an escape people oftentimes turned to when they were trying to hide something. Moreover, when they wanted to retreat from reality. While Odd was a stranger on the outside of the situation, he could put two and two together, enough to know that something was definitely up. He just avoided a situation in which he was making any kind of assumption. Perhaps he would learn something from this encounter.
Perhaps.
This was why, while not a drinker himself, there was no one better than Odd to volunteer for the job of playing adult chaperone. With the hotel not far from the cathedral, Odd figured it wouldn’t even be a long wait before Zidane showed up. If anyone was going to look after a friend of Garnet’s, it might as well be him.
There was no need to rush things. Having been busy, he could use some time of leisure, and some time of figuring out the situation between these two. So he waited, lounged over a bench with both arms hanging over the top. He had parked himself, quite content in the cold with his bundled up hoodie and jeans, snow boots which served the weather conditions fine. He tapped his foot to the beat of a silent song, reminding him only of an unnamed tune.
Calm, composed, not to mention healthier than he had been at the party, fortunately, Odd was the picture of patience. Besides, there had been plenty at the cathedral keeping him occupied. Looking after Lilia, being haunted by the spirit of her worried father...
One of these days he ought to do something about that, but Dr. Pascalle rather worried him.
No rush, though. No rush. Some things were best taken care of when dealt with in baby steps. He could wait here all night if he had to. It was a nice evening, after all, and the moon shown bright in the darkening sky.