[center][h1][color=darkorange][u]Czelsc[/u][/color][/h1][/center]

The bartender made his rounds then returned to Czeslc shortly after. It seemed the bartender was still off-put by the request. Holding a short tequila in one hand, a plate of raw chicken in the other, and a face of very mixed thoughts, he approached the seated man.

"Here's the tequila..." The young voice spoke, the glass clinking as it was set down before him. "....And...here's the...raw..chicken? For you sir..." The lad struggled to finish the sentence. He couldn't even make eye contact as he set the plate before the old man. It seemed if he did he would break into laughter. 

[color=darkorange]"Thank you."[/color] And with that he slid a bill over to cover plus tip. The young bartender slid the money toward himself to collect it while still looking away. "Yeah.. Yes. Thank you. Let me know anything else." The young bartender re-grounded himself and his professionalism as he reminded himself that he was a busy bartender. He walked away. 

Czelsc watched the man walk away. It was an obvious stare. He just felt like watching the guy. Wondering what he thought about their entire interaction. 

He wasn't a mean man. He wasn't upset nor rude. He was a quiet man who lacked enough socialization. Some people are designed to function better this way.

Czeslc looked down to the tequila and relieved a hidden smile. It had been a very long time since sipping his favorite vice. He treated it as a reward or as a end all. Alcoholism was not a district he visited.

He looked down to his left side, the side facing the wall. Within his dressings was a hidden box. A black box with silver metal to hold it together. It was roughly 12 inches across and 14 inches long. Definitely not something that would be hidden too easily had it not seemed like some packed items he had along. This box had a latch on it, which Czelsc now hinged to open. 

With his left hand he touched the raw chicken. It had been stored cold so although he'd prefer room temperature, this would suffice. He pinched a part of the chicken off with the one hand and reached down to the box, opening the small door with his clean hand. Some little sounds of commotion scurried as he handed over the small bit of meat which was eagerly taken away from him. 

[i][color=darkorange]"There you go...Good girl..."[/color][/i] he whispered to the box. 

He closed the door for safety then looked back up to the bar. With his clean right hand he reached for the tequila, bringing to his mouth and sipping some back. He wasn't a shooter; he liked to enjoy it. Draw it out. Once he took a little bit he set it back down, scanning the area to see if anyone caught him handing raw chicken to himself and talking to what seemed like nothing.