Abel sat on a stool facing the bar counter, as if a customer, as he continued managing the ship while Barnaby and Kevin were away. He had plenty of time to reflect on how odd everyone had been in the morning, but even more time to figure out what he could do for himself.
The time had to be at least four P.M, surely. Tenyin’s weather made it hard to tell, with a mixture of sunny one day, and the most dark gray the next. Abel quickly deciphered that the clock by the wall of beads was broken, and took it off.
Liqwee was by no means a fancy bar. An average bar goer place, maybe. But anyone who’s had a good lick of alcohol late at night would know the difference between going to Barnaby’s bar, and going somewhere else.
Maybe it was the tacky interior. Or the food. Or the decorations. Or Barnaby. Well, no. That’s basically everything. Unless all of that mixed together is the reason behind a lack of clientele?
Abel couldn’t be bothered to leave. Sure, he found a key while wasting time when everyone else flew out the door before, he had to at least see through with the bet. If he knew Barnaby well, they’d check the cameras and call him a quitter for leaving before the bar closed.
So, there he was. Sitting. Bored out of his mind in an outfit you could only assume to be a cosplay for Patrick Star. He had the most vacant stare towards the doorway.
Visually, he was there. Mentally, he was not.
Abel could’ve fiddled away on his phone, if he brought it.
I’ll need to check it later.
But all he could do was sit, wait, and hope for the best. He did try exploring the kitchen and “security” room, trying to find something to lessen his boredom. But all that did was make Abel question how Liqwee is even operational.
It was one thing to cook fried foods in a bar with no attempt at bare cooking, but half of them expired months and so ago. The good thing is they didn’t look like anyone someone might actually order, but there’s a time for everything.
And speaking of time…
“That shitty computer’s got to have some clock.” Abel said to himself, a practice not many perform. It’s nice to hear a voice in solace, even if your own.
He went back to the doorway of that god forsaken room, biting his tongue in how disappointed he was of himself for it. But if he wanted a time, and some contact with technology, it was just beyond that shafty cardboard painted door.
Crab walking inside, holding his tail to his chest, Abel made it to the desk. The computer sat on it sadly. It couldn’t express emotion, but the solemn state it was in left little to not sympathize over. It kind of reminded him of something.
“It’s already eight?!” He shouted, scanning the bottom right corner of the computer’s screen for a time. The date read as the eight of August, 2005, which wasn't right. It was 2009.
“Maybe the time’s wrong too?” Abel said, trying to figure out how to open a settings option to reset its time format.
A bang echoed down the hallway.
Abel let out a guttural sigh, slowly shifting through the thin closet and emerging back out of it. He shut the door, and reached the beaded doorway.
At this point, I’m summoning my problems.
“This place got a bell or something?” A border collie whined, sitting at the counter on the same stool Abel took earlier. A gray labrador sat just beside them, holding a narrowed face.
“Nope. But I can hear you.” Abel said, coming out of the hallway with an arm reaching out to push back the beads. Both canines gave him a skeptical look, as if they’d known him.
“Where’s that dumbass?” The gray labrador said, malice laced in tone. The border collie nodded along to their question.
Abel shook his head for a moment, trying to verify what he heard was in fact not in his head.
Who starts a conversation like that?
“What?” He asked.
The border collie joined in, ears pulled to the back of their head. “Named like that dinosaur or whatever.”
The gray labrador stifled a laugh, face puffed from that remark.
Abel took a moment to decipher that cryptic message. “Barnaby?” He finally said, an educated guess at best.
“That’s the one.” The gray labrador exclaimed, arms on the table as if ready to bang it with all their force. “Where is he?”
“They.” Abel corrected.
The gray labrador chuckled. “Where is they?”
Abel let out a low sigh, already knowing what kind of people he’s about to deal with. Judging by their demeanor and personality, he knew not to share Barnaby’s whereabouts.
“Out of town.” He lied, a tactical one at that. Considering he lost the bet, Barnaby wouldn’t be at Liqwee, which works enough in his favour for this statement.
“Told you, Jake.” The border collie taunted, poking a claw right in the gray labrador’s face.
Why’s that name so familiar?
“Whatever. I’m not leaving without some drinks.” Jake answered, turning his attention back to Abel. “What’d you got?”
Abel lazily raised the menu from under the counter, and put it in front of Jake. His ears raised up from their relaxed position.
“What are you getting, Stacy?” Jake asked, opening the thin menu book and sliding it to the middle, for both of them to peer into.
“You’re drinking. I’m saving for the party.” She answered viciously. “Your party was not worth that hangover.”
“Bitch.” Jake snapped back.
Hold the fucking phone… is that THE Jake?
Jake turned his narrowed snarl at the tiger bartender. “Why are you here?” He asked. “Never seen you before.”
“I could ask the same thing. Now, you got an order or what?”
Stacy took in a hard breath of air, and blew it all out like a kazoo. “You two got as much tension as a gay porno. Can you stop being pissy for a sec, Jake?” She interrupted.
Abel began a counter argument, “I am-” but Jake interrupted.
“-Well, excuse me, Your Highness. I didn’t know wanting a drink after wasting time to get to this shitty side of town’s a bad idea.”
“That is not at all what I said.” Stacy swiftly spoke back, as deadpan as her face. Jake’s tail looked to be tensing up from her response.
“I can FEEL it.” He growled.
Stacy slapped him with the back of her paw right across his muzzle. “You feel THAT?” and without allowing time for an answer, followed her question with “That’s what I thought.”
Jesus Christ.
“Okay, I’m here to serve, not couple’s counseling.” Abel said, laying a clawed paw on the counter. Jake and Stacy turn their heads to him, and share a mutually unthreatened look.
“You stay out of our shit.” Jake said.
Stacy folded her arms, shaking her head idly while Jake went on with his typical turndown. “What’s your name?”
I’m not telling these weirdos that!
“P… uh… Pel… Pelon… I mean, Penxi.”
“Penxi, give me your hardest drink.”
Jake shot her an angry look. “I’m saving for the party.” He imitated, voice raised high in a scornful way, shaking his arms up to his chest like a T-rex, his tail nearly smacked her with how it shifted down in an aggressive motion.
“Shut the fuck up.” She said, not skipping a beat. Eyes and head still aimed toward… Penxi. “The pricier, the better.” She added. Jake’s eyes narrowed even harder. Looking like they were completely shut.
Abel turned around, scanning the shelf of drinks. He was by no means a drinker, not as much as Barnaby, at least. But if there’s one thing he didn’t know, it’s what was best.
He picked off a large green vodka bottle, there wasn’t a label on it, but Abel figured it was some kind of fancy thing with the brand. Holding the inconspicuous bottle, he picked out a small glass from beneath the counter, and brought it on the table.
Before he could start spilling the mystery drink into the cup, Stacy put her paw over the cup. “Stop. I don’t want shots.”
Jake wrinkled his snout, shoving his face at Stacy’s. “Fucking what? You’ll be more out of it than that fucking cat.”
I can’t tell if he’s talking about Kevin, or someone else.
“Why are you being such a dick?” Stacy growled, pushing the gray labrador into his stool. He gave her a death glare.
Jake slid his idle paws onto the cup, sliding it to his side. “Fill me a glass too.” He demanded, still making eye-contact with Stacy. “And make it bigger than hers.” He added.
Not wanting to deal with another manic episode, Abel complied.
He lowered his view to the inner area of the counter, looking for larger glasses. One particular glass could reach the average person’s elbow, he picked it up and inspected it.
“That! I want that.” Stacy commanded, raising her voice at the glass mug in Abel’s paw. He put it in front of her, and returned to idly filling the mug with the liquid. “To the top.” She said.
“If I knew you’d waste yourself here, I’d have invited some other people.” Jake said, shaking his head with each word.
“Oh, and would you invite…” Stacy held a wide smile. “K-E-V-I-N?” She spelled out, confident and proud.
“If I wanted to invite a fag, I’d be talking to the dumbass that works here.” He answered, holding his glass tightly, anymore pressure and it would crack from the stress.
You both suck ass. Why’s Kev put up with you?
Abel finished filling Stacy’s cup, and ducked back down to find another mug like the one she had. Gulping sounds quickly came and went, the whole thing gone in the snap of a wrist.
“Another one.” She grunted loudly, shouting out her pain. The bottom of the glass mug banged on the counter with her dunk. That act raised Abel’s attention, pouncing back up to observe the situation.
He frowned, eyes narrowed, and said, “Don’t break shit.”
“Another. One.” She repeated.
“Pour me one first.” Jake intervened.
“I’m not pouring anything until you’re both done with all this.”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
They both grumbled inaudibly, Abel didn’t need to hear them to know the number of curses he was being given. The mood of the room was as dead as a lamb, covered in the wish for whatever sacrifice it was used for.
Abel finally poured the two a drink. Jake had a mug similar to Stacy’s. It wasn’t longer, but it was a little wider. He didn’t seem picky, his muzzle shoved deep into the dark ale showed that.
Abel glanced at Stacy, without any noise, she already finished her second glass. She seemed happy with herself, with a wide grin on her black and white tuxedo colored face. There weren’t any stains on her orange jacket either.
Abel shook his head, and ducked beneath the counter again. He had to find that book Barnaby wanted him to read, that quote he mocked could be useful right about now.
“Another.” Jake’s voice boomed, spurting some of the remaining drink onto the counter. Some of the drink spilled over his red jacket, darkening the areas the liquid landed in.
Abel brought his head up again, still kneeling down for the most part. “Look, I have no clue how strong this drink is, but I’m not comfortable pouring you two another.” He finished his statement by putting the drink back on its shelf, watching the trio from its high position, as if some influential overlord.
“Stacy.” Jake said, turning his attention to the border collie.
“If you’re gonna cry again, do it outside.” She said with no pause, almost cutting Jake off. Whether he had more to say from there, she had no clue.
“Penxi.” Jake said. Abel looked at him, confused.
“You like parties?”
Stacy looked over at Jake, resentment painted in her expression. “What are you trying?” She asked.
“Shut up, bitch. I’m…I’m talking to Penny here.”
“God, you frail asshole. You got drunk off two cups of cheap booze?” She stood up from her stool, arms folded.
“You’re the- the one drun…k.”
“Sure. And I’m the Queen of England while we’re at it.”
Abel chuckled, then held a paw over his mouth to realize his involvement in this situation. Stacy shot him a look, eyes widening a bit from their aggression.
“He’s not gonna remember jackshit. Gimme some water. Let’s talk, you and me.” She said with full assertion, sitting back down in her stool with an arm raised on the counter.
Abel held up two fingers from his paw. “How many fingers am I holding?” He said, holding in a laugh, almost.
“As many fit in your ass. I’m not Jake. Get me water, or you’ll have a different problem.” Stacy snapped back. If that statement had any example for how sober she was, Abel would give it a ten out of ten.
With a hearty chuckle, Abel ducked low into the counter, pulling out a small bottle of water. How long it’s been there wasn’t his concern, he wanted to appease the border collie’s request before he had to deal with something worse than a weird drunk.
“Thanks.” She said, chugging the bottle down in one gulp.
“Christ. You just drink everything in one go?” Abel remarked.
“That’s- that’s why… we’re- we’re together…” Jake chimed in, drunkenly slurring each word he would’ve commentated with.
Abel gave Stacy a disgusted look.
She smiled at the reaction. “You can judge me out loud, I don’t care.” She put the empty bottle inside her glass mug, an easier carry job for Abel’s part.
“So, Penxi.” She began, dragging Abel’s attention to her next say. “You know anything on Bee?”
Playing dumb, he answered, “Who?”
“Barnaby. Golden retriever, asshole to basically everyone in existence. No clue what that guy’s deal is.”
“Mmm, nope. I’m just filling in.”
“So, if you don’t know him, how come he picked you to fill in?”
Shit.
She giggled a bit, an odd mixture between a friendly bubbly one, and one ready for a fight. “I got you now, didn’t I?”
Silence stung the room, the atmosphere grim.
“Wanna tell me the truth now, Abel?” Stacy asked.
Abel’s eyes widened. “How the fuck do you know my name?”
“You’re literally the only person that hangs out with Barnaby. It doesn’t take a day for town to point that out, and figure you.”
She wasn’t wrong. But Abel was still skeptical.
“Only person?” He asked.
“What, you’re telling me you didn’t notice the douche’s social life?”
“Remember when he… he- he crashed that car?” Jake joined in, laughing stupidly in the middle of his sentence.
“Well… I’ve known them since we were younger. They knew a lot of people.” Abel explained, offering some valuable childhood information. Stacy grinned with each word he gave.
“Knowing a lot of people is one thing. For what reason is the important bit.” She commented, as if giving a cryptic saying.
“You lost me.”
“No wonder you’re friends. You’re dense. Perfect for him.”
Jake hiccuped. “You t-t… you two… tot-totally fucked.”
Stacy laughed a bit, an evil witch’s kind.
“I’m straight.” Abel defended.
“And how’s that getting you?” She chimed along.
“Better than whatever you two have going, surely.”
Stacy’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you say?”
“I mean, really. You two come in here acting like you’re a move off from killing each other, and now you’re letting your… boyfriend… sober off by being some gossip?”
“I’m not hearing comments on my relationship from a guy with no game.” Stacy deflected. Abel hit a pressure point, and he was going to dig deeper. “Let me know how Bee’s dick feels, though.”
You know what?
“Ay, Jake.”
The gray labrador’s face snapped at the tiger. His face read as exhausted, but his wagging tail read excitement. “You know Kevin?” Abel asked, holding a grin.
“...Who?”
Stacy rolled her eyes. “The white one.”
What kind of indicator is that?
“Fucking huh?” Jake said, trying desperately to make sense of the questions he was given. “The quiet one?”
“Oh. Yeaaah. That too.” Stacy said.
“Baby. A reaaaal… fuckin’... fuck.”
Jake leaned back, falling off the stool, and landed on his back.
“When he falls, duty calls.” Stacy said in a sing-song, as she got off her stool and grasped Jake’s arm in a rough way. She hastily got him back on his legs. “Anyway…”
She swiped his wallet from his jacket pocket, and dropped twenty euros on the counter. “For the drinks, and your condoms.” She laughed, walking Jake to the door.
Fuckin’ assholes.
“Actually… Abel.” Stacy’s voice called out.
“What.” He said, more a sentence than a question.
“I need something to hold this thin sheet of door open while I drag this tub of lard.” She explained.
“And you think I want to help?”
“You want me to fucking shatter the door?” She rebutted, stradling Jake by her side, like an angry mother desperately holding on to a misbehaving child.
He wasn’t risking property damage, but he didn’t want to let Stacy win so easily. Abel dug his head back behind the counter, searching for anything that could work as a door stopper.
Surprisingly, he found the same book Barnaby gave him before. “Here, try this.” He said, tossing it over to Stacy, the thick slab of paper landed just in front of her, making a loud slam noise.
“Nice try hitting me.” She said, scooching the book toward the door with a foot. Successful, the giant dead tree piece worked well for keeping the door from its natural place in gravity.
If I wanted to hit you, that shit would’ve been aimed for your face.
“Ciao, ciao.” Stacy said, pushing Jake out of the door. He landed on his face on concrete, leaving him in the cold with no guidance. Stacy walked out without shutting the door, a job for Abel to do, surely. He sighed, and went to close it.
As he picked up the book, he looked outside, observing how dark the sky had gotten, there wasn’t much time left till midnight. He looked over at the bar counter, then the camera in the corner, wondering for a moment within his mind.
“See ya.” He said to the camera. A recording for Barnaby to look over later. Abel put the book on the counter, got the key ready, and went out the door. He locked it, and took off to his apartment.
The walk in the cold night air was atrocious for Abel’s summer wear. He hadn’t taken into consideration how this could affect him down the line, but now he had to walk in the problem he made.
Passing by Misty Meadows, Abel heard a familiar voice.
“Julia. Where you?”
Oh, God. That guy again.
Derevan was cradling a large box, comically large to his stature, but it proved how good his strength was regardless. Abel took notice of his new outfit, a black jacket shrouding his head, with dark jeans to boot his burglary aesthetic.
Abel stood just by the gate, sneaking his head around to witness the foreign rat in his attempt at locating someone. As Derevan continued his calls, the sound of shifting grass came close to Abel’s ears.
He turned around, trying to identify the source. Then turned back to watch Derevan. The source hadn’t been found, but it was approaching the tiger.
Bumping right into his face was Julia.
“AUGH!”
Julia’s eyes were as wide as saucers, quickly giving Abel an apologizing look, and then ducked behind him, as if using him as some kind of cover. He moved out of view from the front of the gate, trying to make sense of what was going on.
“What’s he doing?” He whispered to Julia, awaiting a response.
Julia shook her head in a fast “no” motion.
“Just like Kevin, eh?”
She repeated the same motion.
A twig snapped, and Derevan popped into view just behind the tiger. “You.” He said, voice booming with a lightning bolt in the distance. A shallow rain began, but it hadn’t done much.
“Julia, come.” Derevan said, Abel’s frame wasn’t able to hide her too well, and she didn’t look happy about it. Abel focused his attention on him, and watched as Julia defeatedly approached him again. “Firework.” Derevan said out of nowhere.
“What are you two doing?” Abel asked, even if a dumb question, he had to elevate some kind of idea as to what was going on. “Actually, what are YOU doing?” He pointed at Derevan.
“Firework.” Derevan repeated with a bored glare toward the box he left in the park. “Julia, come.” He commanded, grabbing her arm and dragging her off into the dark green zone.
FUUUCCCK that.
While he had no energy to step in, he knew the better option would be letting Kevin know about this situation, even if he had no clue how his relationship with Julia was.
Returning back to their apartment building, Abel made his way up the set of stairs, and began idly banging Kevin’s door.
“KEV! KEEEV!” He chanted with each patter on the wooden board. There was no answer inside, no movement, no smell of burnt toast, no groan, no nothing. Kevin was not home.
Abel sighed, going up the stairs to his apartment, he let out another sigh, and said, “I’m playing hero tonight, aren’t I?” whilst opening his door. The apartment was clean and wellkept.
No sign of intrusion, or disgusting pigging. Abel made his way to his bedroom, burst the door open, and jumped for his cellphone on his yellow pillow. Quickly, he tried to call Barnaby.
The call rang long and painfully, but eventually, it connected.
“Ay, Bee. You never told me if you’d get back, so I closed the bar for the night. I’m guessing you and Kev are still at the party, he didn’t answer the door at all. How’s it?” He said into the phone, a collected string of thought to spew out.
There was no sound from the other end.
“Bee? You there? I’m hearing nothing.”
Am I connected?
He checked, and sure enough, the call was on.
“I’m gonna guess your mic’s broken again. Let me know how you two did, I’ve gotta deal with…” Abel paused for a moment, as a firework appeared in the sky to his bedroom window.
“...something. Tell Kev I gotta talk to him later.”
Abel cut the call, still regretting his lack of acknowledgment for Barnaby’s behalf on what Stacy and Jake had intended. A discussion for later, surely. He didn’t want to have two people fearing what he had to say to them later.
Fuuuck. Bee’s gonna make Kevin worried worse.
For now, he had to deal with whatever Derevan was trying.
Abel picked out a leather outfit from his bedroom drawer, both for a layer of heat, and possible intimidation. If it came to a fight, the material could potentially work for defense.
He left his old outfit in a laundry hamper by his gallery, looking over at the dark gray sky covered in a smog of clouds. Rain was coming down, as faint as Kevin’s voice. Abel could correlate.
Walking in the rain, Abel returned to Misty Meadows. Julia and Derevan were nowhere to be seen, but that didn’t stop his search. He explored the large park, still put off by its terrible remodeling since the mayor’s choice a few months back.
No luck. They were gone.
He shifted through grass and trees, some kind of clue to work with, maybe. And to his surprise, he found a golden one. The remains of a firework explosion square in the middle of the ground, faint gray still stained in the grass.
Some small trails of red were around the explosion zone, presumably the rocket’s build itself. Abel wasn’t sure on what kind of fireworks Derevan had, but they seemed deadly.
Abel went through the entrance of Misty Meadows, glancing over at the old sign. “Still shit.” He said, giving it a dissatisfied look. “And this situation’s even shittier.” He mumbled.
Another firework popped in the distance, torpedoing off in the direction of Kevin and Abel’s apartment block. It looked to be aimed directly for Abel’s bedroom window.
“AW, WHAT THE FUCK?!” He shouted, sprinting down to the perpetrators committing such a hate crime. Had that firework made it into his bedroom, the landlord already wouldn’t be happy, but he’d be as fried as a turkey from the fire.
Thankfully, the firework popped just before it reached the window. The glass took a hard hit from the explosion, shattering and falling apart. Some fell down the side of the building, others collapsed into Abel’s bedroom.
He turned a corner, and as unsurprised as he was, Derevan was holding another arrow firework aimed directly at Abel’s window. Julia stood behind him, a good distance back, holding both paws with hard force over her left orange eye.
“AY! YOU BITCH!” Abel’s voice came from the wind, as charged as his fist colliding into Derevan’s hairless muzzle. The impact pushed him back a good bit, and dropped the lit firework onto the ground.
“DEATH IS INEVITABLE, CAT.” Derevan’s voice boomed, just as the firework set off, popping between the two. Abel’s outfit absorbed most of the impact, but he could still feel some of the faint pain. Derevan jumped back, his skin taking most of the hit.
While he was farther from the firework, its explosion radius left Julia astounded, still minorly hit by it, the farthest from them all.
She dropped to the floor, paws free from her left eye, revealing spewing red. She planted her paws into the earth, cooling them from the heated energy hitting her in the face. Her eyes laid shut, as if crying. Abel took notice of her damage.
“What the FUCK did you do to her?” He shouted at Derevan, damaged similarly, but with faint marks for burns around his hairless face. “You blew her up? Twice!”
“You did this.” Derevan answered, his voice bassy. The firework must’ve done some damage to his neck. “Julia.”
Abel’s eyes slithered shut in contempt. To correlate the problem to a victim is at best a bad last resort, and he saw right through it. With Derevan distracted from the damage, Abel made a run for it, sweeping Julia off her knees, and running off into the wet pavements toward Misty Meadows.