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Something's Missing

Petyr's picture
Submission type:

The whiskey slipped between his lips, the burning sensation had almost been forgotten. It'd been years since he had any real alcohol. He realized then that he had missed it almost as much as he had missed smoking and strangely enough, missed talking to other people.

"What a wonderful taste." he muttered, obviously to himself as he took a drag on the cigarette that occupied his other hand. He held it in and really let the tobacco infiltrate his lungs before releasing his breath "Refreshing." he set his glass of whiskey down and reached up to his face. He had let himself go, a large mangled beard had replaced his normally fresh face. He gave the facial hair some attention, absent mindedly toying with it.
He had managed to find himself in Serenity once more, the cantina that Sin had taken residence in all those years ago. A few strangers looked at the man as he made his way there, as if they recognized him but couldn't quite place from where. He got to enjoy his cigarette and drink in peace, for perhaps the first time ever. Just another man in the crowd of faces that were there to drown themselves for sorrow or for entertainment. He sighed.

"Something on your mind, friend?" a man, probably in his fifties with the strangest patchy pattern of facial hair Petyr had ever seen, sitting next to him had been staring
"Uh, no. I'm fine."
"Come on. I've seen that face too many times, you can't lie to your elders kid."
"Don't look at my face."
The older gentleman chuckled and placed a hand on Petyr's shoulder
"Listen, kid, I've..." but he didn't finish his sentence, he had stared too long "Err, nevermind." a knife had been produced and was prodding his overgrown beer belly gently. Petyr silently waited for the man to lean back and remove his hand before taking another drag on the cigarette and extinguishing it on the wooden counter, blowing the smoke out away from the stranger.
Quietly he grabbed and finished his whiskey aswell before standing up, collecting his jacket and leaving the bar.

He parked outside the city, not wanting to take any chances of people recognizing it. When he reached the newly washed car, he popped the trunk and pulled out the memorabilia of an age past. A cracked white mask and a suit. He couldn't take his eyes off them.

So much for missing other people.


Joe Spivey's picture

Ahhhh Petyr, as friendly and approachable as ever.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

Veronica Volt's picture

Petyr, his mask behind the mask. Good to see Petyr in a FERP story again.

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