F
Faber
Guest
Original poster
The pair of drunkards licked their lips as the damsel wiggled in the dark. The one making out, quickly planted his hands around her waist, pulling her in closer as his buddy copped for a feel. Pure lust drove the trio into a wrestling mess as the men attempted to live through their drunk fantasies. The one locking lips with Isabella soon felt weak in the knees as he continued to do his best to the young girl. He sleepily opened his eyes only to see pure black irises staring back.
Ash shrunk inside the bar as the macabre attendants mingled with tequila in hand. The bartender finished her call.
"Can I help you?" she grumbled to Ash, examining her maroon lipstick in a nearby faucet. Her black lace sleeves and pierced eyebrow blend her completely into the bar's aesthetic, but she seemed sane enough.
"Umm, yes, I'm looking for someone. My... friend. She's underage and I think she may have wandered into here."
The jaded bartender quirked a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "A friend?"
"Yeah, she's only sixteen. The guy outside told me he thought he saw her come in."
"What does the chick look like?"
Ash examined the stuffy dance floor, examining the sea of black lace and leather pants. He had to admit that this was the worst place to play the 'goth card'. He searched the recesses of his mind for any distinguishable feature other than her love of black. One thing came to mind. "Umm, well she's rather... curvy and still in high school."
The worker sighed. Her bright eyes glanced at the willowy forms swaying in the poorly lit space. "I have an idea where she is."
Ash shrunk inside the bar as the macabre attendants mingled with tequila in hand. The bartender finished her call.
"Can I help you?" she grumbled to Ash, examining her maroon lipstick in a nearby faucet. Her black lace sleeves and pierced eyebrow blend her completely into the bar's aesthetic, but she seemed sane enough.
"Umm, yes, I'm looking for someone. My... friend. She's underage and I think she may have wandered into here."
The jaded bartender quirked a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "A friend?"
"Yeah, she's only sixteen. The guy outside told me he thought he saw her come in."
"What does the chick look like?"
Ash examined the stuffy dance floor, examining the sea of black lace and leather pants. He had to admit that this was the worst place to play the 'goth card'. He searched the recesses of his mind for any distinguishable feature other than her love of black. One thing came to mind. "Umm, well she's rather... curvy and still in high school."
The worker sighed. Her bright eyes glanced at the willowy forms swaying in the poorly lit space. "I have an idea where she is."