((here I am))
Axel needed a smoke. Badly.
He tried vainly, and not for the first or fourth time, to get his lighter to work. Every three minutes he'd punctuate his morose gait with the *click click* of his generic brand lighter. The head of the cigarette was beginning to get damp with the hot air and spit that was starting to congeal at the tip. The dark haired man cursed around the cancer stick and shoved the lighter into his leather jacket's pocket. Green eyes narrowed to slits, homing in on a potential target to vent his frustrations out on. At first, he'd wanted a drink since he'd dragged through three cigarettes for the day [trying to be a 'responsible' smoker] but the nearest town didn't have anything strong enough to loosen him up. However, a pretty young thing decided to help him out and pointed him in the direction where his heated pace was headed.
Not too far off, however, he spotted smoke. And where there was smoke, there was a potential light. Axel felt his heart soar just a little and increased his hopeful steps. In almost not time flat, he was at the scene of a near died out car wreck. It was still ablaze. Without care or fear of another potential explosion, Axel ventured forward and plucked his cigarette out of his moth to hold the butt at the flame.
Success! With a satisfied grin, he put the cigarette between his lips and did a mental jig. But soon after, he looked forlornly at the wreckage, pocketed hand gripping the dead lighter ever so slightly. If only he could lump some of the flames into his lighter... But with a wistful sigh, he put the thought out of his mind and continued on his set path. He was in need of a drink now that he had his smoke. He took a jagged-looking path through the forest on the side of the road. He half wondered, after about ten minutes, if the townspeople sent him into the forest to get raped by some random bear. It was possible. He'd met some townspeople who were clearly off their rockers. At one point, they sent him to this weird old man for a place to stay since the inn was supposedly booked out. The old man nearly shot a hole through his crotch when he entered the house after knocking and finding the door open. Then again, it could have been self defence but...
Axel found his eyes darting to and fro like a crack addict looking for a quick sniff, looking out for errant bullets and crazy old ladies. That, in itself was another story. Ten more minutes passed by when the faint smell of some sort of dish hit his nostril. It was heavenly, but then again, with witches wandering around or squatting in the middle of nowhere, it could be a ploy. What was life without a little risk, he reasoned, puffing out a breath of smoke. As he neared the source of the scent, he found a rather large building. Witches have something akin to mansions, too?
He chuckled at his dry joke and proceeded. There was smoke coming out of the chimney so someone had to be there.
Walking in, he spotted a few people: four men, a lady and a little girl. The little girl must have been one of the adult's daughter or something. The place was kind of quiet, but it wasn't strained. But good grief, the place needed some conversation!
"Kind of out-of-the-way to have a tavern out here," he said casually, walking toward an empty stool. He sat beside the little girl, who seemed to not care he was even there. He, however, resisted the urge to wave his hand in front of her face. She might have been one of those crazy natives or something.
He folded his arms atop the bar's surface and puffed out another cloud of smoke. It wasn't his usual one, though, taking into consideration that a child was in his presence. Never mind that said child was in a tavern, but he digressed.
"Who runs this joint?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.