Information


Leiner has a minion!

Anheuser the Nukesama




Leiner
Legacy Name: Leiner


The Twilight Celinox
Owner: Roan

Age: 14 years, 8 months, 1 week

Born: September 12th, 2009

Adopted: 14 years, 8 months, 1 week ago (Legacy)

Adopted: September 12th, 2009 (Legacy)

Statistics


  • Level: 91
     
  • Strength: 73
     
  • Defense: 42
     
  • Speed: 41
     
  • Health: 34
     
  • HP: 34/34
     
  • Intelligence: 119
     
  • Books Read: 118
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Taste Tester


Think I found a message in a bottle; it says "Drink me, drown your sorrows."

We are young! (Whoa!) We are young! (Whoa!)
We drink, and we fight, and we love just because.
We are numb (Whoa!). We're on the run (Whoa!).
And you're never gonna chase us down. We are young. (HEY!)


Dance with the devil
Don't be shy
Nothings gonna stop us
We cant die
Sleepin' in a bed
Waking up outside
At least I can say I tried, right?

A lamp in the corner behind a worn caddy-cornered chair lit the rumpus room of FinalHeaven. Beside the chair rested a table, with a couch and a coffee table on it's other side. The seats made a C around a 47" television. A Celinox reclined in the chair quite comfortably, and judging from the overall appearance of the seat, this was a common setting for the mid-twentysomething creature. His knees were parted from one another, soles of his sneakers flat on the tight-knit carpet below them.

He turned his lime green bottle up again, grimacing and exhaling strongly though his mouth after, re-capping the bottle as if he thought he might let a spirit out of it if it stayed open. He shook his head, then clicked his tongue as if it weren't fitting right in his mouth.

Tilting the bottle, his neck lifted from the back of the chair. One might think, if he'd lain in that position long enough, he'd finally drunk himself to death.

He took another sip.

The chair was dark maroon, with a three-sectioned back. Its cracked faux-leather surface was particularly flat on the arms, the right one seemed to have a disc-shaped recession from some sort of canned beverage. A cream colored blanket with tiny blue diamonds looked like it had once been tucked over the chair stylishly.

An uncovered, unused light bulb in the ceiling had him fixated, the tv four feet from him didn't. His eyes flickered to the sitcom, as if you reading this caught his attention, and he realized he was missing something. Clicking his tongue in his mouth again, he settled his shoulders back into the middle of the chair.

He liked being drunk. the world moved slower to him, or maybe he moved faster? He didn't care. In that moment, it didn't matter if there was a laugh track playing from the TV, or if he could hear James trying to seduce NL upstairs. He had Jager and his chair, so he was happy. Feeling the warmth of the alcohol on his forehead, he pulled off his beanie, letting his hand hit his thigh a little roughly.

he unscrewed the cap, noticing how much was left.

Ritty was pretty. He didn't know why he thought of her; he was dirty from a long day at the Sharpie Factory, and she most definately didn't taste like the drink he held. He also doubted that she would be as comforting as his chair. Still, he only smiled in bars when he saw her. Grinning, he thought about her ears.... Realizing they looked exactly like James' turned him off, a bit.

Leiner scooted himself further into the chair, sitting up a little. His tail being at the edge of the seat was making his leg fall asleep.

He rocked the open bottle back and forth, watching the fluid inside roll from the left of the flask-shaped bottle to the right. Running a thumb over the deer etched in the back of the glass, he smiled a little. "Maybe," He thought, "She'd like to drink with me, sometime."

He took another drink, screwing the lid back on the empty bottle. Settling into his chair, turning on his side, and bringing his knees up to the seat, he clicked his tongue again. he never had liked jager. Pulling the blanket, he covered himself with the part of it that had found its way to the floor while he'd sat.

"Just maybe, I'll ask her to."

Lowlife, by Theory of a DeadMan, may be a future theme. :D

Pet Treasure


Pete-in-a-Pie

Case File

Adriette Doll

Brass Petal

Gin and Tonic

Vintage Noxious Greeting Card

Sake

Pet Friends