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[b][color=93CB56]Michael “Mike” Withers
June 21st
New Rome, Forum >>> Rafters[/color][/b][/indent]
Who the fuck closed the bathroom?

Mike belated stared at the public bathroom with a sign hung across each entrance. ‘Clausus’ it read - Legion-peoples with their goddang Latin closing the goddang bathrooms. Someone had clearly died in there. No matter what amount of Godly nonsense you could spray, the stench hit Mike well enough that it just made him more annoyed than anything else. Of course, he’d forgotten about needing to throw up. That? That was just rude. It just was and Mike was all-in against it.

He took in a long breath, long enough to calm himself back down. Pluto had gotten him into a eating contest, and man Mike had [i]nearly[/i] won if it wasn’t for the fact that the dog had just been inhaling things. Yeah, they both had laid down for a good ten minutes, but man. Mike almost had it. Where’d he find so many chili dogs…one hand reached down to the coin pocket. Ah. Yeah, it was a [i]lot[/i] lighter than it had been when he woke up that morning. He’d need to talk to Jake about not selling him so many chili dogs. Well, no, he’d already had that conversation with the guy before. He’d definitely had that conversation before. What an ass.

Breathing through his mouth, no mean feat considering how absolutely god-awful the stench was, Mike made his way through the crowds to…well, he was still trying to figure that out. Where would a good enough place to be? Yeah, he started to just kinda move with the flow of the crowd, which was enough that no-one had a good time to notice his legs long enough to be pissed for some stupid reason or another, but he just kept on going.

Was this the rafters? The crowd had started to thin out here and there. Some of the fights had finished up. Some of them still seemed to be going on…maybe? Probably? What the heck were the brackets. Mike had no idea on that, and looking back to see the big-as-heck sign facing the exact opposite way, had an immediate decision. Yeah, who really cared about who was going to fight who and went. Yeah that didn’t matter at all. The faun would just get to see who fought when they fought, if they fought or…something. He couldn’t really think of anyone he was particularly attached to who’d be fighting, anyways. They were all chill folks.

He looked around for a second or two more to see if there was anyone he actually [i]liked[/i] hanging around. Themise? Would she be into this sorta crowd? Naw, it was too loud. John Jr? He was cool, but it was pretty loud for him, too. Besides, he was sure that the guy would be trying to mug someone for a sandwich or something with how cute he was. Naw…ah! Jerry! Jerry? No, [i]Jeremy[/i]. Fuckin’ ‘Grover's Glorious Ganja Goodies’ dude-bro who sold some pretty good leaf, even if it wasn’t grown quite like Mike’s was. Lotta G’s, though. Pretty good. He started to make his way up to that row.

A beat of a stare at the person next to him - who was she? Mike didn’t quite know. He seemed to have just asked her something or another, there was that questioning look in his eyes like he was expecting a response, but Mike just burst out as he got up. [color=93CB56]”Man, how’s it going! Been forever since I’ve seen you. What was it like, last Tuesday?”[/color]