Drinking makes you Popular [Transnistria/public]

Another shot was downed, causing a cheer from the crowd of carnies. Someone shouted out, "Eighteen!" as the shot glass was turned on it's head and placed atop a pyramid of it's kin.

It hadn't been very long until the whole carnival realized what a drinker their Golem was. What he was drinking was his own moonshine, even. One might hesitate to even call it edible, considering the contents were almost pure rubbing alcohol. But alcohol, none the less.

He was celebrating the fact that he didn't die by poisoning himself again-- albeit in a way Cosim was very very used to.

"Twenty one!"

The pyramid grew larger as the bottle grew empty and he grew very drunk. It had taken much to do so, though. Normally he didn't talk to many people-- but inebriated, he was quite the opposite. He was grinning, slapping people on the back, feeding off their applause to counteract the effects of the alcohol.

He hesitated for a moment on the last shot, and the crowd went silent. (there wasnt much they had there to etertain them-- a large man drinking himself into a coma was as good as any show) After the silence became thick enough, he grinned and drank it, completing the pyramid, and then stood up unsteadly to cheer and smash the pyramid with theempty glass bottle, creating quite the crash.

If this strongman thing ever fell through, he could always amaze people over how invincible his liver was.

Itakshir was already quite drunk, having lost an earlier drinking contest with considerably good grace. However, he was surprisingly better at holding his liquor than even he expected--for some reason, he had the feeling he would be. That being said, he was no superman, and he'd quickly lost count of however many glasses he'd managed before literally falling flat on his back off of the bar stool, laughing like a maniac.

Unfortunately, he was not one of those who became a better person after having a few. Oh, he was more sociable, sure. But he was already plenty social sober. Any more, was...overwhelming. To say the least.

Having found a human being that he identified as being female, his drunkenly misguided kisses to her face and neck had been kind of funny (mostly in that he seemed totally unconcerned to be doing this in public) to onlookers...until he'd not-so-consensually attempted to rip her shirt off. Two of the other guys pried him off of the flustered young woman, one of them reprimanding the Ainu, "Too much, man, too much."

But he wasn't really listening. This was but a minor setback; he could and would find another girl if no other distractions came his way. Thankfully one did. In the form of Cosim.

Stumbling like a newborn deer taking it's first steps, he stumbled backwards right into the Golem's back. He had to grab onto the much taller man's shoulder in order to avoid falling into the shattered glass littering the floor. With a stupid laugh, he leaned against Cosim's elbow for support, his half-wits halved and quartered to something merely resembling human intelligence.

"Broooooooooooo," he gurgled happily, his speech punctuated by hiccups, "Bro, bro, I think I'm gonna be sick, man...hahahahahaaa..."

((So classy.))

((Can I join in too?))

It was his saving grace that his back was turned to Itakshir as he had lost his inhibitions over a woman. To Cosim that was a cardinal sin if his definition of sin was even clear in the first place.

He was unaware there had been more drinks nearby, but now that he knew he had a drinking partner, he wasn't exactly going to quit with that last feat. He slapped the shorter man on the back (probably not a good idea right after he had confessed to feeling sick) and pressed a new open bottle into his hands. "As long as something goes down your throat, nothing'll come up!"

Cosim always tried to ignore his own sickness, somehow feeling grateful for the ill that came from being too over-indulgent than the ill the came from having nothing at all. He had been having flashes of unconsciousness punctuated with differing visions, which he had accredited to his almost dying days before. He figured they were inconsequential-- they were all so different, yet in his mind, connecting them seemed so easy. One most memorable was a boy (who must have been some unconscious interpretation of him as a boy) who only felt the sensations of hunger, typhus, and dysentery. Taking it to mean something poignant in what he thought was the real world, he decided to indulge himself more. Or... the regular amount. He had fallen out of practice since he'd been in jail.

And in the spirit of being grateful of his health and mobility and.... hell, he was just drunk out of his mind, he nearly knocked the bottle out of Itakshir's hands with a revelation. "Today-- today, we should do something-- something meaningful-- we're smart people, you're a smart guy-- right? His words were punctuated with belches and wavering pitches. It was a language known and understood by only a few.

((BRING THE CAR AROUND, BEAR--

@idiotbunny- sure XD))

His knees nearly buckled when the strongman slapped his back, but he took it well, all things considered.

"Wh-whoa, spasiba," he wasn't even entirely sure for a second or two what Cosim had handed him (his vision was all over the place at this point), but he gushed his thanks anyways, "Domo--no, no, hioy'oy, hahaha... What is 'domo', haha, that's a dirty word, that's a bad language--I'm sorry, bro, hahaha..." His mouth was running entirely of it's own accord, forming words almost before they were even thoughts.

Once he identified that he'd been given more alcohol, he grinned widely and attempted to take a swig from the bottle...only to miss and slop a good amount of it down his shirt. Which was a shame, because he didn't own many clothes to begin with, and wouldn't know how to get the smell out, even after he'd sobered up. But in a way, it was also good. He was already hammered enough as it was.

"S-smart?" He just about lost his mind laughing, "Who're you--talking about? Ahahahaha... We, we should totally do some'ing, though..." He thought for a minute, but if the blank look on his face was any indication, not much was happening up there. Finally finding the mouth of the bottle, he took a gulp and suggested, "I could--like, give you a tattoo, hahaha--"

As soon as the words left the Ainu's mouth, he gripped his shoulder and stared into his eyes with rapt attention, as if it was the most revolutionary thing he'd ever heard and he needed something to hold onto to take the news.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying." He responded, no hint of a joke in his voice. Thanks to their blood-alcohol levels, he could very well be saying something entirely different. "That..... is genius." Because getting a tattoo from a man so drunk he can barely stand when one is just as drunk is a perfectly intelligent idea.

Why didn't Itakshir say things like this more often? He was much smarter than Cosim gave him credit for. He was no stranger to drunk tattoos, he had one he assumed began in a situation quite like this, on his wrist. But he wasn't quite sure why he would have asked for a serial number for a tattoo. Looking at it filled him with something like regret and shame, so maybe it was from being drunk. None of this was on his mind, though, as he agreed to a tattoo from someone with currently zero hand-eye-coordination.

"Let's do this."

"Cool deal!" He tried to high-five his friend, but didn't realize that the other's hand had never been raised to begin with, and ended up swatting the air in confusion.

For a long moment, he just grinned with delight, vaguely aware of the notion that, even when his vision wasn't swimming in a liquor-induced ocean, he would have been excited to share his tradition with an outsider. And fortunately...or rather, unfortunately, Ainu tattooing was so archaic in practice that it would be absolutely no problem, even in this state, for Itakshir to procure the necessary tools. ...Er, tool. A knife, to be exact. Cosim was in for quite the painful experience.

There was one thing he couldn't get easily, though. The smile fell from his face as the realization slowly dawned on him. Very, very slowly.

"Where do we get s-soot, though?" Dizzily, he pointed to one of the markings on his arm to indicate what the soot was for... But then again, he could very well have been pointing at his shoe. "I need it for the-the, uh... The..." (He needed a moment to conjure up the appropriate word, nearly going cross-eyed in thought.) "...Ink."

Cosim would be glad to accept any tradition people had to offer-- he really wasn't sure he had any. Not even his language was solid, but bits of four or more different ones; though he tried to keep it in russian, it didn't always stay that way, especially when drunk.

He had already agreed to the whole deal, and he was an unreasonable man. If he agreed, it would happen, regardless of what was involved (though his willpower would surely be tested this time).

That being said, he didn't question the man's need for soot. His solution was very questionable, though.

"Burn something?"

Immediately he produced a chair at his side, hoisting it up into the air as the person who had been sitting in it previously tried to get off of the floor where they had been tossed.

Amon had been drinking himself to death. He was ignoring everything and everyone, he was too busy with his ultimate plan. He grabbed another bottle, praying that after this one, he could hit on someone. Until his chair was lifted in the air. "Yahhh. 'Eyyyy! What you..."

He started to flail around. He had heard burning stuff and that didn't really sound that great. He leaned too far and fell on his back. "Arghhhh.. What are y'all gunna do when you burn a human? If ya wanted ta, y'all could have asked." He got up, brushing himself off. "Ah don't wanna be burned if no one tells me."

Amon rised his fists and went in "fighting mode". Despite his blurry vision and his wobbliness, he believed he could fight this... this... Guy. "If ya wanted to fight, why didn't ya say so?"

(( < _ >;; I'm sorry... If it's not good, just delete it. I can't write.)

Itakshir was likewise having language issues. Oddly enough, sometimes Japanese and Russian popped into his head even faster than his native tongue, which was annoying and secretly disquieting to him. At the moment, though, it was just annoying.

He almost applauded the man's resourcefulness. Almost. But even in this state, he could remember that it wasn't just any soot they needed. He waved a hand side-to-side in a negative response, "No, man... uh... No, we can use that for the fire, but--but we need a...a...yaka--no, no, uh..." He gestured like he was scraping something off of the bottom of some surface, "A--a thing like a pot...a kettle?"

There was probably one in the kitchen they could borrow. And the ashes from the wooden chair he could use as 'nire', an antiseptic...nevermind that only certain types of wood worked for that.

He was about to suggest that they go outside, when he (finally) realized that the guy whose chair had been stolen by Cosim was talking to them. Squinting to get his vision straight, a rather ugly expression crossed his face when he realized who it was. A Jap. Itakshir had no idea, really, who the guy was. Just that he was Japanese. And that was a good enough a reason as any for him to hate him.

Silently, he staggered around Cosim and, with absolutely no forewarning whatsoever, punched Amon in the face. ...Somewhere. Somewhere in the face. He couldn't see so well. But he felt his fist connecting with something, so he knew damage had to have been done. Such a clever lad.

He didn't give a shit if Cosim had been the one who the aggression had been directed at. What did Cosim care about Japanese people, anyways? No, this was rightfully Itakshir's fight. With a very uncharacteristic scowl, he tackled the Asian onto the ground and continued to savagely hit him...or attempt to, anyways (his aim was so off that it was almost comical), while shouting at him in an unintelligible conglomeration of Ainu and Japanese.

He didn't understand why one soot over another, but he wasnt the one who would tattoo a tiger on his arm (he hadn't verbalized it yet, but that was what he wanted. A tiger. Or maybe a dragon.).

Cosim was unaffected by his friend's sudden outburst, except that he was sort of miffed that now this whole tattoo thing was being thrown out the window. Didn't he know the guy being beaten to a pulp, though? That annoying asian who had yammered at him after a show?

Well, now he felt bad. Realizing his coordination wasn't the best for trying to grab the Ainu's arms at the time, Cosim instead pulled one of the man's legs out from under him and tried his best to drag him away until he couldn't reach his victim. "No." He admonished, not quite understanding what had provoked the whole thing.

Amon was swaying a little, trying to start a fight with the Russian. Suddenly he was on the floor with some man punching his face or the ground, he didn't know which one. But he was probably trying to hit him. "'Ey! Ya bastard! What-" One of the punches landed, breaking his nose. "Ya fu-" Another landed.

Amon tried to slug Itakshir, but completely missed. He eventually tried to kick him somehow when that guy was dragging the punching guy away.

"'Ey! 'Ey! What you doin'? This is mah fight!" Amon tried to crawl to Itakshir. "Stay outta it..."

(( .___. I think I'm not good at this.))

(( fff Wrong person's leg, Bunny XD))

((Sorry! ^0^;; ))

Itakshir struggled against Cosim's grip to absolutely no avail, clawing at the air in Amon's direction as though trying to strangle him. Actually, that might have been exactly what he was trying to do. He wasn't really thinking at the moment, but if he was, even he wouldn't have been sure what came over him. Sure, he knew that, back in his old homeland, he was treated as the lowest caste in comparison to the Japanese, and that obviously had lead to some resentment. But as far as he knew, he'd always lived that life and was grudgingly used to it. It was nothing serious enough to harbor this kind of hatred against a total stranger...right?

But even after it was clear that he could not continue this fight, he continued shouting at his victim in Japanese. The same phrase, over and over again. It was highly likely that no one other than Amon even knew what he was saying, until he let it slip in English by a drunken mistake, "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU!"

A kind of disturbed silence fell on those gathered around them. No one in the carnival had ever seen any side of the Ainu other than the guy who was friends with everyone, who almost never got angry, who smiled by default. This was not that happy person. This was almost like looking at someone else entirely.

Cosim was not the type to stand for this chaos. Chaos made him nervous, made him act without thought. Everything had tone governed by order. His head swam with dizziness for a moment at the sudden change in atmosphere he couldn't control. That coupled with the ainu's death warning made him especially unsure of how to handle this. If Itakshir was any other person, he would be dead by now. All it would take would be one stomp of Cosim's foot on his neck. But he was one of the Golem's only friends, and he had never seen the man so angry before. Perhaps it was the Japanese man's fault. Killing a man when it wasn't his fault wasn't right either.

Giving the Japanese man a look that said get away and get some protection, he dropped his foot down on the Ainu's back, hopefully knocking all the air for his hollers out of him while disabling his movements for the time being.

And he was still disappointed-- he didn't have a tattoo yet.

"What the HELL are you doing??" He shouted, only remembering his Russian.

Amon was used to death threats. He got them before and they usually didn't mean it too. But that guy's face kind of scared him. Again he tried to approach him, but that tall guy's face was almost telling him to stay put.

He crossed his arms and stared at both of them. He didn't understand why that grayish-haired dude suddenly attacked him. He wasn't even picking a real fight with that other white-haired dude. He attempted to think of all the reasons why that man wanted to kill him.

(My reply are getting shorter. What's wrong with me... OTL )

He was very seriously about to bite his friend's arm in an attempt to break free, when suddenly, something heavy and punishing fell on his back. Before he knew it, he was pinned with his face against the ground. And just as the air was knocked from his lungs, the worst of his anger, too, seemed to be knocked from him. It left him feeling sullen, somewhat surprised at himself, and...with a sense that justice hadn't been served. Despite that he was the attacker, in this case.

His head was spinning; he felt sicker than ever. And Cosim understandably wanted an explanation, but he was in no fit state to give a suitable reply. Muttering as best as he could with his face half in the floor, he complained, "Let me go, man... I'm gonna be--" He clasped a hand to his mouth right on time as he gagged and just managed to hold it back. No doubt it would have been messy, disgusting, and embarrassing if he vomited while lying in the position that he was in.

Hesitantly, he lifted his boot from the defeated man's back, how slowly he released him almost a warning should the attack start again.

Of course he couldn't let his friend vomit all over himself. Because Cosim had done so before, and it was not pleasant. He wasn't ready to see someone else suffer the same way.

He felt like he needed to choose a side in the conflict, to judge who was right or wrong, but he knew nothing about what provoked it.

"What did he do to you?" He inquired incredulously. Besides talk his ear off. Not even Cosim would kill because of that. The crowd was dissipating now hat the fight seemed to halt and fade out.

He had been observing the scene in front of him. The man on the ground looked like he was sick or something. Amon stood up, flailing his arms. "Ah didn't do nothin' to him! Never met him ma whole life! I dunno what ah did to 'im."

He stared at both of them. Then looked for the nearest wine bottle. "Ah seriously didn't do nothin'!" He shook the bottle at them. "Don't attack me like tha'. I like fighting, but not like tha'." He opened the bottle and downed it, remembering his original plan.

"'Didn't do nothin'," he repeated mockingly, with venom lacing every word. He was sorely tempted to spit on the man's shoes. How typical of a Jap to not own up to their own racist culture. In truth, Amon himself (if his simple personality--not entirely dissimilar to Itakshir's--was any indication) was probably innocent of the crimes Itakshir was holding against him. But unfortunately, he represented something much bigger to the Ainu's currently inebriated mind.

Getting unsteadily to his feet, he doubled over slightly as he held back another hurl. Coughing and gagging alternatingly, he grasped Cosim's upper arm to steady himself and gasped almost pleadingly, "I need some fresh--fresh air..." He didn't know if he could make it outside on his own, and contrary to what his nature might suggest, something like throwing up inside was practically a felony to him. Grudgingly, he added in a mutter to dissuade his friend's confusion, "I'll explain it later, man..."

Cosim nodded to the badly beaten Japanese man. "You should probably go get the doctor..." He decided it would be easier to side with his friend, who seemed deeply distressed, still.

So he led the man out and pulled a barrel from where it stood with a few of the same against the building. That way, at least, Itakshir would have somewhere to hide the consequences of his drinking.

Maybe, he thought, this was how others felt dealing with him when he was unnecessarily angry. Except on probably a much greater scale. Well... It wasn't really his problem, after all, he had no idea when and how his anger flared up.

He gave the Ainu a few heavy pats on the back while looking away from his sickness. Cosim was sure he would succumb to the same fate if he had been watching. He would learn what all this was about soon enough, at least it was over. "Yeah, okay..."

"Nan nn nn..." Amon mocked Itakshir's mocking, if there was any other way to say it. He had no real idea of why this guy was so angry at him. Coming from a small town, he didn't know about the Ainu or how his people treated them. He didn't even know what they were.

"You should probably go get the doctor..." For him or the other guy. Oh, well. Didn't matter right now.

"Er... The doc... Who is he?" Nevertheless, he went looking for the doctor. All he had to do was leave the two guys alone and find a doctor-looking guy.

((@Jeju-chan: Actually, Osakans are noteworthy for their continued discrimination against Ainu. Don't worry about it, though; I only just now found this out myself. XD Amon, y u gotta hate, bro? :I /SHOT

@Starvist: lol, I would love to bring her in, though Itak can't really go to her directly, since they haven't officially met yet. XD))

Itakshir gratefully took the barrel and lurched over it... It was probably best that Cosim looked away; it wasn't a very pretty sight. At least he sobered up a bit, as his system attempted to purge itself of the alcohol. Unfortunately, though, this didn't help his mood. After he was finished, he slumped down to the ground and laid over on his back in the dirt, staring up at his friend with a defeated expression, sighing, "I overdid it, man..." And not just with the drinking.

After a moment, he sat back up and pulled his headband off so he could wipe his forehead and run a hand through his hair. Without putting it back on, he stood up, not bothering to brush the dust off, and said bitterly without looking Cosim in the eye, "Where I come from, the Japanese are the highest caste. And my race is the lowest. 'Filthy mass,' they call us. 'Untouchables.'" He practically spat out the last one, "'Non-humans.'" A heavy silence hung onto the end of his words, as he replaced the headband--indicative of him embracing his identity as an outcast--on his head.

Hands in his pockets, he began walking away, only stumbling a little, "You still want that tattoo?"