Drunken Monkeys are Funny

[onthecase.livejournal.com]

Chimp is glad to be back from Hell. Enough bullsh*t down there to last a lifetime. Remind him to avoid it for next time... especially if he can't take a drink. The edge of Hell was felt the whole time -- keenly. Because he wasn't allowed to be drinking.

Yeah, well, screw them. He's older than many members of this whole damn team. He doesn't need to be babysat. Besides, it's not like they're his friends. Sure, he likes them... but to them, he's just a mascot. Just a talking chimp.

He knows people joke about him. The drunken monkey. Hell, it's hysterical.

So why isn't he laughing?

He knucklewalks to the bar and pulls out a glass.

Comments

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

Ah. Another one.

An easier one, admittedly, since he is arguably already one of her subjects but that is what makes it more interesting. Someone who is trying to climb away, trying to climb out of the depths. There is no true Despair without hope.

The kitten climbs up into her lap as she looks at the chimp through the mirror. Despair pets the little cat absently as she watches.

There is a whisper to him, less than that. You don't need it.

[onthecase.livejournal.com]

He glances at the amber liquid behind the glass, and the mirror on the bar behind it, as he takes out a bottle of whiskey.

No, he doesn't need it. He could probably stop any time he wants to.

Problem is, he doesn't want to.

He puts the bottle of whiskey on the bar.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

The cat mewls softly, in a questioning tone. Despair continues to pet the little one. Is it so bad? That you need the comfort? A bottle instead of a friend...?

[onthecase.livejournal.com]

Friends? Who needs friends? Human friends die.

They all die. Except the chimp.

He'll die someday. No one is truly immortal. Will he live 200 years? 2000? 2 million? Who knows. But in the end, he'll outlive all his friends. And he'll die in one of two ways.

Either his liver will finally give out... or he'll die violently. Either way doesn't seem all that pleasant.

Fucking fountains of youth.

He pours the whiskey into the glass. It's not a shot glass, and he fills the glass to the brim, until it sloshes over the edge.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

A long drink. Just one....

Despair tilts her head to the side in thought. The kitten leaps from her lap to go exploring once again.

[onthecase.livejournal.com]

He drowns the drink.

The amber fluid burns as it goes down, but as it hits his stomach, he already feels the edge of Hell vanishing. The pain of loss disappearing. It's still there... but the feeling is blunted.

And looks at the mirror, considering.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

More slowly... A bit... more... slowly...

The mirror is a bit misty with age, not quite reflecting correctly.

[onthecase.livejournal.com]

He pours another.

He can still feel the pain. He doesn't want to anymore.

And he looks at the mirror, at the face of the chimpanzee staring back at him.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

For a few moments it looks like there is something else there but... that's just the alcohol speaking. If he's thinking like that....

He needs some more to drink.

Despair begins to pull back from the mirror. Not much is needed here. She will have to find something more this evening.

[onthecase.livejournal.com]

And he pours down the second drink.

And wonders how many glasses like this he'll finish before he passes out.