It had been more than a few weeks since the situation with his father had passed. Jasper was still confused about what exactly had happened, only that it involved a ghost other than Rusalki, a ghost that had some how taken control of his father. No one controlled his father, at least the boy hadn't ever thought it would be possible. What made all of it even worse was that Rusalki refused to talk to him about it. He'd never seen his friend so serious before, it struck a chord of fear in his heart. Whatever blanket of hope that Jasper had been wrapped in had been since removed. The way his father had grabbed him sent the boy spiraling back to the ways of old. He'd been starting to become comfortable about being around Ahren, less fearful, and he liked to think that they were getting closer, but that had all been wiped away. All of that, among a vast stretch of other things, was why the blonde de le Poer had slipped away from Clouded Tears so late in the evening. He knew where he was going even before he left, a place that he had stumbled up once or twice during his rounds through the city. It was bar, one that looked as if someone had been working on fixing it up just to abandon it in the middle of it all. Jasper made his way inside quickly, sliding past the stools and tables to the area behind the bar, where he quickly disappeared. Soon enough he emerged, hunched over, dragging out a large box of half filled bottles. He placed them on the bar then, taking each out one by one, examining it before setting it out on the bar. He hadn't ever drank substances like this before, he didn't know where to start. |