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[img]http://s28.postimg.org/9dweq9ei5/The_Pessimist.png[/img]
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The young pessimist pondered to himself as the woman nodded between him and the riff-raff of the drunken man. He didn't quite fathom an event in which he could reason with the man, but got up regardless. With a deep breath, he walked over to the man, trying not to stumble or quiver. As the young man approached, it became apparent that the drunk was ironically shorter than him. He decided to start off polite, to see where it would get him.

[color=e38800]"E-Excuse me, sir,"[/color] He gritted his teeth, having stupidly stuttered. The man turned to him, clearly unamused, the stench of alcohol strong about him. [color=e38800]"I just wanna know why you're giving our, um, nice hostess here a hard time."[/color]

[color=C0C0C0]"A hard time? She knows what she’s doing. But you’re gonna make something of it?"[/color] The drunk spoke in a thick Brooklyn accent, the alcohol on his breath overpowering. The pessimist had to hold his breath to stop himself turning his nose up. Suddenly, the lights flickered off, before coming back to life, taking everybody by surprise.

[color=C0C0C0]"What the hell kind of place is this?!"[/color]

The young pessimist was also taken by surprise, almost jumping.

[color=e38800]"L-Look, sir, I’m--"[/color] He paused to take a breath. [color=e38800]"I'm just not sure shouting at her is the right way to go about it."[/color] His British accent clashed with the man's strong Brooklyn accent.

The man gave a big drunken stagger as the young pessimist jumped out of the way, just avoiding a collision with the man. [color=C0C0C0]"Oh, and how should I go about it, wise guy?"[/color]

Nerves raced through the pessimist's body. [color=e38800]"Just... kindly point out any problems you have with her. And maybe, I dunno, sober up a little?"[/color]

He was confused at first, as the drunken man had a sudden change in attitude, becoming rather pleasant. However, it was all feigned, as it was followed up by an incredibly sarcastic, smarmy smile. He thrust out his hand, although it was ignored by the pessimist. [color=C0C0C0]"Nicholas Diagoraz. [i]Pleasure to be educated.[/i]"[/color]

The pessimist sighed, not amused by the man's childish sarcasm. [color=e38800]"Sir, I don't want to be rude, b-but you're not helping at all. You're making a-all the guests uncomfortable."[/color]

He went unnoticed however, as Nicholas looked at the unshaken hand with a comedic look. The pessimist glanced at the hand debatingly, not finding the "joke" funny, before coming to a decision. He walked off, and returned with a glass of water, placing it in the man's sweaty palm. It took him a few seconds to ensure it wouldn't slip out due to the amount of grease and sweat. This guy was a real sleazeball.

In turn, Nicholas looked around with the same comedic look, before leaning in incredibly close to the pessimist. This caused him to be able to see all the hairs on the mobster's neck, most of them matted down by sweat. Nicholas then removed his fedora, revealing short, dark hair. He slowly raised the glass, pouring it like a slow tap all over his head, going without a flinch. The slow running of the water almost resembled goosebumps as they ran down the pessimist's spine.

[color=C0C0C0]"Don't cross me, young man."[/color] He hissed, before storming off to get some wine.

He glanced around at everyone, clearly nervous, shifting his weight about almost as if he were physically weighing his decisions. Eventually, he decided to leave it - Nicholas' manners were terrible, and the pessimist wasn't going to get anywhere with him. He sat back down, staring at the table. He glanced in the direction of Nicholas, who nodded his wine glass towards him as if to say "fuck you". The pessimist sighed, looking back down at the table.