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Sora no Hikari -- Light of the Sky (Naruto RP)

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[Jul. 11th, 2007|09:13 am]
Sora no Hikari -- Light of the Sky (Naruto RP)


[Current Mood |drunkdrunk]

Joining: Closed to Shikamaru.
Setting: Shinobi-only bar somewhere in Konoha. Not a truly respectable place.
Details: Neji goes out after his latest mission in the hopes of getting as drunk as possible. After the time-skip, probably sometime after Asuma's death.
Possible Rating: R, PG13? Could change.
Warnings: A drunk Neji, swearing, possibly violence.


Once upon a more prosperous time, the small bar had laid claim to a name and a sign above the entrance on which to print it. Back then it had been “The Wren”, and had been a classy place, with waitresses who wore relatively modest outfits, served decent food, and booze of a relatively good quality.

However, prosperous times hadn’t stayed for long after the Kyuubi attacked, and from the looks of things, wouldn’t be returning anytime soon. The sign above the doorway had long-since fallen down, and so had the quality of the food, so much so anyone with any sanity at all refrained from ordering any.

The booze wasn’t good either, but it was strong, and that was all Neji cared about. He sat at a table at the back, eyes closed, and forehead resting on the dirty tabletop. The shards of an empty bottle lay on the floor by his feet where he had dropped it. A second was clenched in his right hand.

For the pale-eyed jounin, the limit to exactly how much alcohol he could down without passing out cold was two bottles. But he had given instructions to the bartender, and because he was a Jounin, he expected them to be followed.

“Keep it coming until I pass out, and then I want one waiting when I wake up.”

The bar formally known as the Wren catered solely to shinobi, and most shinobi who came wanted to forget something. The booze served its purpose, even if it didn’t taste good.


[User Picture]From: whiteeyesfade
2007-07-17 08:59 pm (UTC)
“No,” Neji said shortly, a smidgen of bad temper creeping into his voice. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation, and if that was what Shikamaru wanted, then the chuunin would just have to find seating arrangements elsewhere.

He turned away from the Nara and downed another mouthful of the booze. God, it was terrible. Even the Hokage didn’t drink here.

He closed his eyes, setting the bottle back down with a solid “clunk”. His head was starting to hurt, but in return, the sharp, throbbing pain in his chest had dulled somewhat. Trading one grievance for another, that was what alcohol was good at. The only question was, which pain was worse?

He saw his teammate’s face as she screamed for them to run, to leave her behind, and, shuddering, decided he preferred the pain given by the booze better than the pain in his ribs or of the images flashing through his head. Even if the relief was only temporary, and he was guaranteed to feel worse in the morning. Even if his hangover would be horrible, giving his broken ribs a good run for their money. Even if the medics, when he finally went to them, would scream and lecture about how it was his duty to go for treatment when hurt, especially when it was bad. Despite all that, Neji still preferred drinking and the effects of such.

It seemed the Hyuga’s plan of forgetting his most recent mission were bust. He wondered briefly how long it would take him to knock himself out, and if that would finally make him forget. Probably not, but it was worth an attempt.

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