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Post by haus on Aug 6, 2015 5:06:54 GMT -5
"Well, nothing goes your way when you're an art school expatriate. As the stereotype goes."
His day wasn't really all that awful. But, then again, he spent at least half of it (probably more) in bed, catching up on sleep from his two-day long bout of insomnia. It was terrible. You needed to sleep to be beautiful. Sleeping pills were effective, but he didn't want to grow too dependent on them... either way though, he supposed it was a little sad, that this whole escapade was apparently the highlight of his day.
Gabir patted him on the back amiably, though the awkward hollow sound from his ribcage made him very aware of how much thinner he was— and how much less meat he had on compared to Gabir. It wasn't like it knocked the wind out of him, but there was force to be felt. Oh, but his hands. Wow. Someone needed some lotion pronto. And a manicure. Maybe five. And not even for stereotypically gay and/or "metrosexual" reasons. At some point, it was a matter of simple personal hygiene.
Jonah blinked a little when Gabir's smile vanished, replaced by the frown he wore minutes before. Aw, and he thought the smile was kind of refreshing. Maybe if he got drunker he'd smile more.
"No worries, Gab. If you start hitting on me, I promise I won't take it personally." He winked. A joke, of course. But as with everything that came out of Jonah's mouth, there was a sheen of sincerity that often threw people off. He reached for the drink Gabir ordered for him, taking a sip to wash down the beer's aftertaste. How hospitable, he thought. Jonah might actually enjoy his time here after all.
"So you must be pretty down in the dumps to be spending your evening in this pothole. What's eating you?"
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Post by gabir on Aug 6, 2015 5:36:57 GMT -5
Art school. He was not surprised. Didn't stereotypes exist for a reason? After all, he was a big, gruff man drinking his sorrows away in a bar also filled with big, gruff men. Ah, humanity was such a wonderful thing. And then... did he just flirt with him? Jonah just flirted with him. Yep. Yyyyyep. He wasn't sure how to deal with that. Maybe he was one of those little twink boys looking for a big, burly man. It would explain why he was in this bar. Still... most were not very attractive. Gabir himself might have a strong jaw and good cheekbones.... but he also had big scaly lizard hands. Nope, not an attractive man in sight. Well, not by manly standards. Jonah might not have been handsome, but he was certainly pretty. Oh wait, he was asking something.
"...Nothing. I'm at the top of the food chain."
He immediately regretted it. That was a cringeworthy joke. It was bad and he should feel bad. Humor wasn't something he had ever been good at. God, now that he thought about it he could be extremely boring. Anti-fun, anti-friends, and anti-jokes. Was this what his life was destined to be? Maybe.
"...Sorry. I would... just rather not talk about it, I suppose. I will just say... life is complicated, and I would like it if it were simpler."
A very very polite way of saying 'I have really bad issues and it makes my life really shitty and I'm scared of making friends.' Not that Jonah would get it. It was better that way. Holy shit he was depressing himself. TIME TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT.
"...So. Art school. Why?"
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Post by haus on Aug 6, 2015 6:10:08 GMT -5
While Jonah did enjoy the company of big, burly men, he did not, in fact, come here for that purpose. He came out to have a good time and he was honestly feeling pretty alright about it right now. Even with the nearly depressing quality of Gabir's most recent attempt at a joke, Jonah had to laugh a little bit— hey, he was trying. And Jonah thought it was actually pretty funny— because, he was half gator. Haha. Oh man. Top of the food chain... what's eating him... ha.
This was the point at which Jonah realized he wasn't nearly inebriated enough to warrant laughing at that. Oh well.
"Life getting you down, huh?" Jonah replied, drinking up a little more of his screwdriver. "Bummer. I guess it happens and stuff. Explains why you're chugging those beers."
And now the question of his education. Oh boy. This could either go one of two ways: he could get drunk enough to start telling his whole life story, complete with reenactments starring none other than him, or... he'd be kind of cagey about it. As he usually was about his personal life. But if he just stayed on the topic of art school, that'd be fine. So...
He shrugged. "I came from the lower class district. Had enough talent to test up, and bam, they stick me in some arts program for sad, disenfranchised youth. Won some contents, did some exhibits, maybe slept with the occasional dean or two—" another joke. Sort of. "And here I am now. Living the life."
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Post by gabir on Aug 6, 2015 6:37:05 GMT -5
"And what a life it is. Drinking with the most boring man in Novus. You're going places."
He was kidding, of course. Well, not about the boring part. Kind of. His professional life was faaaar from boring. Personal life? About as exciting as watching paint try. Y'know, the except the paint never dried and just sat there being wet and depressing forever. Honestly, his quip about art school was kind of a mean thing to say. Personally, he didn't understand art. He found it useless. Why not do something more practical? A chef could be an artist, yet they still fed people. What was it about staring at something that enchanted people? It wasn't real. Just an image made to express some kind of emotion. Maybe he just preferred things being grounded in reality. He was a practical man.
"If only my story was as riveting. I was born middle-class. Raised middle-class. I'm still middle-class. I make money being big and aggressive. The sort of work you would expect from a man of my stature. That is my life story."
He was absolutely full of fucking shit but Jonah had no way to know that. In fact, Gabir's life was exciting and depressing at the same time. Some absolutely serious shit had gone down in just the last few years. Shit that he was currently drinking to forget about. One more wouldn't hurt, right? He quickly ordered another beer, grabbing the bottle when it arrived and nodding at Jonah.
"To monotony."
He quickly downed it in one go. It was therapeutic, as if the bitter liquid was pushing all of those emotions back into the pit of his stomach where they belonged. Just bottle it up.
"...If you don't mind me saying, you don't appear too disenfranchised. You have money, alcohol, clothes, and company."
...Oh god. He was making friends. If he weren't drunk, he would have excused himself and hurried off into the night.
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Post by haus on Aug 6, 2015 16:48:24 GMT -5
Ahaha. Gabir was funny. Not in a laugh-out-loud kind of way so much, but his depressingly sober sense of humor was kind of refreshing. Jonah, after all, came from the age where people would send eachother ASCII dicks via holographic text messages— and that was considered a joke. To render a dick in the most primitive form of web art, only to display it using the most current spatial-photic technology was an ironic testament to how far society's come.
Such was the life of an art student.
"To monotony," Jonah replied, taking a drink. "And to finding yourself drinking in a bar with a stranger on a Thursday night."
He supposed that, if Gabir caught him on any other day, he might've come up with something more interesting to say about the current state of his life. Because, in all reality, Jonah's livelihood shuffled him between parties and get togethers and bars, sometimes all within the same evening. It was okay, he thought. It kept boredom at bay. But something always felt... undeniably missing. And he could never quite put a finger on what it was.
Jonah laughed a little, tracing a little circle into the counter. "Yeah, you'd think so, right? I guess if I left in some details, it'd be one of those rags-to-riches movie plots that'd win, like, a hundred academy awards."
That was an exaggeration. Jonah did that a lot— exaggerate. Bad habit of his. His life wasn't really that note-worthy.
He shrugged, continuing, "I guess some rich members of the bourgeoisie thought I'd be a cute addition to their harem of protegés. Some loser kid from the lower class who couldn't get his nose out of a book." |
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