[Ziggy455]

Ghosts

He sat in the black Esperanto, the last one his cousin had owned. Rain poured down, the sound of a thousand tiny metallic thuds bounced around the cold, leathery interior. The smell was clean, even though Niko was sure that these chairs had seen their fair share of late night vodka-induced vomits and soils of Hove Beach inhabitants. These cars were like people back in the old country; stale, and frightened to move beyond the borders of Hove Beach and Broker, where ‘the real America’ was supposed to be. But Niko had seen that real America and it was as dwindled and corrupt as the old country back home.

Roman’s last black cab lay stiff and unmoving as it rested on the concrete ramp that lead in to the dark, polluted abyss that was the Liberty City River. Blocks of wood and cardboard floated on the calm surface, bobbing lighting as the torrential downpour from the grey skies above beat down on them. The half empty bottle of vodka that lay in the passenger seat stood out in Niko’s eyes. The clear liquid inside bobbed heavier than any other water in sight. His tired, scratched hands lazily gripped the bottle again with already careless inebriation. The bottle lid flicked off quickly and he took another hard swig. The chug burned as the vile liquid slid down his throat. He gritted his teeth and put the cap back on the bottle and then he put it back to its original place.
This was it, he thought to himself. This is what he had promised once it was done. His mind went back to Dimitri, hunched over dying. He showed no remorse, no guilt. He killed, he betrayed. How could one be so evil and not show guilt? Niko felt guilt. He felt responsible for the death of his cousin. If he had just planned ahead, Roman would be here, with his new wife, who was now alone in this world. She was alone and it was his fault.

The rain continued to assault everything in sight. Niko slowly lowered the hand-brake; the taxi began to slowly slip down the ramp. He took a big intake of air and continued to slowly let the car slip into the river. It continued to slip down until the bumper of the car lightly kissed the calm water. Suddenly the familiar vibration of Niko’s phone made him pull the hand-brake back up. He yanked out his phone and the contact MALLORIE blared on his screen. He was hoping not to have to speak to anybody before the end. She deserved to know the truth at least, he thought. He didn’t want to be fully-selfish before the big sleep. He clicked the answer button.

“Mallorie, the man who got Roman killed is dead.” He should have felt relief when he told her but only sadness remained.

“Well that won’t bring him back will it!?” she felt that same sadness. She was right, Niko thought; no retribution would be fitting enough to bring back Roman. “He’ll never even meet his son!”

“Son?” Niko could not hide the lump of pain that now slid down his throat and into his stomach, making the vodka swish around in his gut. The sadness in his voice was something not many had seen; it was genuine pain.

“I’m pregnant; we were gonna say somethin’ at the reception!”

Niko didn’t know what to say, for a moment his mind went blank. Then it hit him; that instinctive protection he had for Roman. It was still there.

“Your child will never worry about anything, Mallorie.” He wanted to mean it with all of his remaining sanity and strength.

“Thank-you, Niko. I know you’re trying but a child without a father has a lot to worry about, trust me on that one.” And with that she had hung up before Niko could get another word in. For a while there was silence, and the metallic bangs of rain on metal was all that Niko had for company, or would have been if he was not entranced in thought.

“I’m pregnant,” was all that he could think about. He didn’t notice the black taxi slipping into the river slowly. The handbrake was lazily pulled up. The water began to slowly sleep in through the front bumper grill and before Niko realized, water was seeping through and surrounding his feet. He looked down at his feet and noticed the murky stench that built the water.

“sh*t!” he yelled; scrambling for the door handle. He flung it open but realized the water was locking him in. He shoved his full weight onto the door and scrambled out into the water that was beginning to absorb the car like some hungry monster. Niko shifted through the water and scrambled onto the ramp, the rain still pouring down in one of what felt like the worst thunderstorm yet. He stumbled to his feet quickly; the blood rushing upwards so fast he had to rest on the concrete side of the ramp. The vodka was strong. He stared at the cab that was now floating on the river, in a few more moments it would sink down into the dark abyss, forever gone.

All of a sudden, Niko didn’t want to die. He watched the car disappear and then he turned away from his last memory of Roman, and now it was time to move on.


This post has been edited by Ziggy455 on Saturday, Sep 1 2012, 23:34

[AceRay]

Aha, a GTA fanfic! Being a staff of BUYG:IV, I'm an expert on the genre, so lets see how Zigs goes today! You're even the same font that I use! What a coincidence!

Ziggy455
Niko | Apartment | Ghosts
$46 + $0 = $46

Grammerwise, this is fairly excellent, there are no glaring spelling issues or punctuation gaps, although I feel that you need to be consistent with your paragraph gaps as the third paragraph has only one gap, felt it could use two instead. Also, "sh*t" should obviously be capitalized as its the start of a sentence. The story sets the scene strong, giving off a good atmosphere and portraying Niko's desperation quite harrowing, always wondered what happened to him after IV. Houser would definitely approve of how his protagonist is played here. There was also a bit of dark humour when Niko realizes he doesn't want to kill himself and is stuck in the car, I liked that. Nice turning point and arc you've got here, making Niko's arc complete and leaving the story in a bittersweet ending. Liked it.

At 906 words, this is a perfectly fitting length for BUYG, can't wait for how this continues.

Ziggy455

Gang	Niko	Total
Details	Story Count: 1 Active Property: Apartment Money Earned: $46 Money Spent: $0 Last Post: Sept 2 2012	Money: $46 Stories: 1
Weapons	---
Vehicles	Roman's Taxi

rated by AceRay

[Ziggy455]

I thank you for taking the time to read this, but I didn't write it for BUYG- It's more of a story I wanted to write for a long time. If you want I can publish it in BUYG too, but I didn't think actual characters or events were canon.

Anyway, thank-you for the advice, it's already being implemented.

[AceRay]

QUOTE (Ziggy455 @ Sunday, Sep 2 2012, 23:24)

I thank you for taking the time to read this, but I didn't write it for BUYG- It's more of a story I wanted to write for a long time. If you want I can publish it in BUYG too, but I didn't think actual characters or events were canon.

lol, I know, its just that, as staff of BUYG:IV, I feel like I'm the lone vigilante of GTA fanfics and its my duty to review all those who post them, give them feedback etc. I'm like Batman. Also, I need to get as many BUYG links into a post as possible so somebody gets that topic rebooted or something.

[Ziggy455]

QUOTE (AceRay @ Sunday, Sep 2 2012, 10:53)

QUOTE (Ziggy455 @ Sunday, Sep 2 2012, 23:24) I thank you for taking the time to read this, but I didn't write it for BUYG- It's more of a story I wanted to write for a long time. If you want I can publish it in BUYG too, but I didn't think actual characters or events were canon. lol, I know, its just that, as staff of BUYG:IV, I feel like I'm the lone vigilante of GTA fanfics and its my duty to review all those who post them, give them feedback etc. I'm like Batman. Also, I need to get as many BUYG links into a post as possible so somebody gets that topic rebooted or something.

I've already written 6,000 words for this fanfic alone, and once I have written the entire story in first draft, I will start to tend to BUYG.

[AceRay]

QUOTE (Ziggy455 @ Sunday, Sep 2 2012, 23:57)

QUOTE (AceRay @ Sunday, Sep 2 2012, 10:53) QUOTE (Ziggy455 @ Sunday, Sep 2 2012, 23:24) I thank you for taking the time to read this, but I didn't write it for BUYG- It's more of a story I wanted to write for a long time. If you want I can publish it in BUYG too, but I didn't think actual characters or events were canon. lol, I know, its just that, as staff of BUYG:IV, I feel like I'm the lone vigilante of GTA fanfics and its my duty to review all those who post them, give them feedback etc. I'm like Batman. Also, I need to get as many BUYG links into a post as possible so somebody gets that topic rebooted or something. I've already written 6,000 words for this fanfic alone, and once I have written the entire story in first draft, I will start to tend to BUYG.

Well son, it looks like I have taught you well in the art then, I look forward to the continuation.

[Linki]

Perfect length. Great atmosphere. The call from Mallorie was given a nice twist here, making the story feel like canon, nicely done with that. I really hope to see more as I've always wondered what happened after the story was complete for Niko.

I'm sure Mokrie Dela would like this.

[Ziggy455]

QUOTE (Linki @ Monday, Sep 3 2012, 00:57)

Perfect length. Great atmosphere. The call from Mallorie was given a nice twist here, making the story feel like canon, nicely done with that. I really hope to see more as I've always wondered what happened after the story was complete for Niko. I'm sure Mokrie Dela would like this.

Thankyou for taking the time to read this.

Unfortunately this story isn't going to take on the proverbial role of a 'Shoot em up!' sequel. We won't see mad gun fights every chapter, there won't be a lot of criminal activity. I wanted to make a story focused on the relationships between characters and of course, there's the main antagonists.

I'm just writing up the entire story in full draft so as to keep readers entertained.

[Mokrie Dela]

You just wanted to copy me! The rain, the last of roman's cab, carbon copy of City of Lies.


haha, nah i'm joking, though i did see similarities between our works - which is most likely down to us basing it from the game.

I loved the intro: especially how you tied it in with the end of IV and the phone call that i remember getting (on a boat, in the middle of the river, when mallorie said that, i just froze, hands off the controller. Was a great emotional moment i think).

As you know, Ziggy, I'm a huge fan of fanfics - i even emailed Rockstar asking their opinion on the subject (they replied saying they'll consider it for the next Asked and Answered) - and seeing as how this is a GTA fan site, it's fitting to have some. Also with your frustration at "poorly written fanfics", it's good to see you step up and show how it could be done.

A note on the direction you're intending: focusing on the relationships etc is a good choice imo. writing COL and JIF i've realised how difficult it is to write action sequences, and make them draw the reader in, without stepping on the toes of any other game (i've scrapped about half a dozen chapters not for writing quality, but because they were too similar to Splinter Cell) or on it's own toes, so a more intimate approach i think will be refreshing.

a word on the story itself: there were a few sentances that felt a little rough around the edges, but that really is nitpicking, as i enjoyed reading it. One thing i tried with my two was to offer an insight into Niko - to reveal the more intimate details that tthe game simply can not. I feel niko's a great character and a multilayered one at that. Let me tell you, man, after 2 years of writing Niko: you're going to have fun doing it, and when you're done, playing GTA IV will feel so personal.

I'll be following this - I'm looking forward to an adventure as good (or better than) the one Niko's given me the last couple years

[Ziggy455]

Five years later.

Niko pulled up to the big, beautiful house in Beachgate, Broker, in his black Schafter. The sun blasted down and he could feel the rumbling of the bass that the speakers inside the place were emitting. A bunch of people were outside in the front garden with drinks in hand, balloons covered the path and the huge white house itself was full of bustling activity. Niko took a deep breath.

He stepped out of the car with not an exterior of an immigrant who had caught the ship over the border, but a businessman. Five years hadn’t aged him much; he was never-changing. His black business suit was neat and clean, a red tie breaking the visage of black and white he exhibited. He hastily ran to the boot and opened it; yanking out two wrapped presents and a card balanced neatly on top like a nice finish to wrapped-paper skyscraper. Both of the gifts were coated in pink with little horses on them. Mallorie was the color co-coordinator while Niko was just the errand boy, he liked the arrangement.

He slammed the boot shut with his elbow and shuffled past the gate that lead up to the house. Both of the presents negated his view and he didn’t see her coming but he heard the light footsteps that got louder.

“Uncle Nicko! Uncle Nicko!” screamed a familiar high-pitched voice from further up the path.

Niko couldn’t see but he knew that something was going to collide with his legs in about: three, two, one- THUD. A pair of tiny arms with an iron-brace like grip wrapped themselves around his legs. He stood still and gained his balance. He didn’t need to guess who this was.

“Anabelle Bellic, let ya Uncle move!” came the familiar Puerto Rican’s voice from the front doorway.

Niko leaned his head out to the right and was greeted with the bright toothy smile of his niece. Her bright blonde hair glowed in the bright afternoon sunshine that coated everything. Anabelle Bellic had her mother’s beauty, and the dark eyes of Roman. She was tiny compared to Niko and wore a pretty summer dress with blue flowers on it. Her hair was rough but as bright as the yellow sunflowers that grew in the small front garden.

“Hello, Ana.” Said Niko with a smile and with that he suddenly dropped both of the presents and swept up the little girl with both arms. The two of them began talking to each other with rapid tempo. He swept up the presents with his free hand and continued to walk to the doorway. Anabelle continued to talk about her friends, and Niko could barely comprehend her basic dialect that flowed through her mouth so rapidly. Mallorie moved out and scooped the boxes out of Niko’s hands with a smile. He gave her a brief one back and lifted Ana onto one of the counters of the designer kitchen.

“Are they for me?” she asked with another big smile; her eyes reminded Niko of Roman so much when she smiled- even if they were ogling the wrapped gifts.

“Of course they are for you, it is your birthday isn’t it?”

The next sound was the piercing high pitched scream as she jumped off the counter and ran into the ocean of balloons that flooded the living room. A bunch of people were scattered all around the house and music was playing out back in the garden. A huge banner hung in the kitchen reading: HAPPY 4TH BIRTHDAY ANABELLE. Mallorie put down the gifts on the table with the rest and came back. Niko shared a glance with Mallorie and they both briefly laughed.

“Heya, Niko.” She said before giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, Mal.” He said with a smile.

Mallorie hadn’t aged much. Childbirth had not exacerbated her physique in any way. She had only gotten prettier with age, and she had taken on the role of mother with Niko by her side the whole way like a mother should. She had a bunch of chopsticks in the back of her hair, showing her flawless face. She rubbed her eyes and gave a small yawn. She stumbled over to the kitchen and began sorting out plastic cups. Niko slowly came over and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Here, Mallorie let me help.”

She gave a sigh. “I’m alright, Niko I-“

“It’s alright, here, let me sort this stuff,” he turned and lazily waved his arm to the crowd of people, “Go and talk to them and I’ll focus on keeping things in check.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Not many people want to talk about bars and business. Go and tend to your friends.”

Mallorie gave a nod and shot off into the crowd of people. Niko wasn’t bothered by how much of impassive she was being, it did not warrant concern. He was practically around here every single day. And he knew that when Ana’s wonderful party had come to an end, she would thank him properly like she did all of the time. For everything he had done for Mallorie, he did not expect anything in return except see and be there for his beautiful niece.

Peeking out at the small crowds of people that covered the kitchen area he realized didn’t recognize anybody.

He focuses on filling up all of cups that coated the kitchen counter with juice and put them on the other side for kids. The big cake he’d paid a sh*tload for was in the fridge, ready to be prepped with candles. He flicked open the huge beast of a refrigerator and noticed the amount of random jars and tins crushed around the cake. He have a sigh and pulled out the three layered pink iced cake that spelt out HAPPY 4THBIRTHDAY ANABELLE BELLIC. He put it down on the side and loosened his tie with a yank.

Brrrr. Brrrrrrr. Not now, he thought as he yanked it out. He clicked it on and didn’t check the contact.

“Hello?”

“Nicky, we’re running low on Pisswasser, can I get Johnny to do a keg run?” It was Mickey; head bartender.

Niko took a sigh.

“Yeah, sure, but Mickey?”

Silence.

“Mickey, are you just nodding along?”

“Sorry, Nicky. I’ll call him now.”

“Alright, that’s fine,” he went to hang up, “Oh and Mickey?”

“Yah?”

“I tell you this every time. You don’t need to call me every time you need runs. I trust you and Johnny enough to make certain decisions without me.”

“Alright, I got you, give the kid a happy birthday hug from Uncle Mickey.”

“I’ll do that.”
He put his phone back in his pocket and started putting candles on the cake. The hustle and bustle of the party continued around him as he tended to the kitchen. Kids ran by him, he’d offer out some drinks, but he barely spoke. He didn’t really socialize anymore. It was a strange profession of a recluse; who knew anybody who owned a bar and restaurant but hated to socialize in groups, let alone one on one? Niko felt like the first.

The celebrations continued on for a few hours perfectly. Ana beamed proudly as she got her big cake but Niko seemed to notice Mallorie’s smile more. It was the first time he had seen her smile properly in a long time. Ana called her Uncle Niko over to blow out the candles with her and after that she sat on his lap as she opened presents in front of all the guests. Niko had bought her a toy dollhouse with a million features, or so the catalogue had said, and a book collection of one of her favorite authors. She had loved both presents just as she had loved everybody else’s.

As the night continued, Niko reverted back to party patrol. Eventually people started leaving by the masses and soon enough silence had taken over the Bardas-Bellic household as had the darkness of night. Annabelle had collapsed out of exhaustion on the sofa. Niko gently picked her up slowly, her hands wrapping around him as she half-awoke.

“Uncle Nicko?” she slurred.

“Go back to sleep, Anny.” He said, and she did so. He put her into her huge pink bed and kissed her goodnight. Heading back downstairs he could see that Mallorie was asleep on the table. He quietly

“Mallorie?”

He sighed and scooped her up. Staring at her as he did so; her mascara had run down both cheeks. He carried her over to the sofa and laid her down softly. She stirred lightly just like Ana. “Rome?” she asked dreamily and Niko only felt sadness as he pulled over the blanket that was lazily strung on top of the couch. He went back to the kitchen and picked up his black blazer that was askew on the counter; slipping it on as he went to the door.

“Niko?” said somebody in the doorway.

He turned to see Mallorie stood in the kitchen doorway with the blanket around her. “You leavin’?”

“Yes,” he paused for a moment and the two stood in silence, “I left you money on the counter.”
She gave a brief nod to the white envelope stuffed with cash and then back to Niko. She noticed he always seemed to want to escape these moments. Days like today were just sad reminders that the people who should be here to celebrate weren’t. Niko nodded and turned to leave.

“I missed him today, y’know?” She blurted out.

He froze.

“I missed him too,” he turned around, “She has his eyes and spirit.”

“I’m seeing someone now.” She said as if she was guilty of something.

Niko nodded. Mallorie remained still but watched as he left without saying another word. The door shut with a click and he stood still taking in deep breaths of the cold night air before heading back to his car. He took his time, the house had been humid, and he hated heat. He eventually jumped in the car and flicked his phone on. He dialed down to the blaring name MICKEY and rang it.

“Roman’s, bar and-“

“Mickey, I am coming back. Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s A-OK, how was little Anny’s party?”

“It was a success.”

“Alright, see you soon.”

He hung up and started the car. He looked up at Ana’s window and sighed. The house was one Roman short, and no matter how hard Niko tried to be there, he knew it wasn’t the same. He sped off back to the club with a lump in his throat.

[Linki]

An unexpected turn to fast-forward five years on. I'm happy to see you are focusing on the characters rather than action, as that has already been pretty much covered. In doing this though, I hope you make sure it still feels like the characters we are used to seeing - making it a soap opera with them would be sort of out of place. But I'm not saying that's what this is, because it's working fine now. The only criticisms would be grammatical mistakes, nothing more.

I'm wondering if the Johnny we heard of was the Johnny I know of? I'm looking forward to reading more.

[Mokrie Dela]

I thought that too linki though I doubt it will be as those two have little interaction and I think johnny says at the end of tlad that he's leaving town

A good chapter there. One thing I notices:
'he gently picked her up slowly'
I don't think we need the word slowly, as I think gently covers it

But again it's a nitpick. Good work

[Ziggy455]

Can you specify the grammatical mistakes as although I am somewhat critical with others works, I am subject to f*ckupery myself.

As for the relationship aspect, of course there will be action and violence, respectively. However it's not going to involve drug deals and betrayals and gun-go wars every few chapters.

As for Johnny, all I can say is five years is a long time.

[Ziggy455]

REMNANTS

Johnny made it back to his apartment within an hour of leaving ROMAN’S. He bid farewell to Terry and Clay who still seemed to have the energy of continuous riding- they remarked they were going out for some beers. Johnny couldn’t be bothered with crowds, not after watching over one all night. He was too tired for loud noises, his head blared like a thousand razor blades were spinning in that big blob of grey he barely used.

He slowly made his way up the rickety stairs. The walls were coated in the familiar scrawls that accompanied places like this. Of course he could afford somewhere with a nice interior, the bouncer business paid well. But he liked the gritty and grimy entrails of cracked walls and rough textures. It reminded him of a simpler, better time.

He opened the door to his small apartment and stepped in with a sigh of relief. The apartment looked like it was just a weird hybrid room of the hallway outside. The floor was dirty and full of stains. A rough, brown, thread-loosened couch was on the far wall. Over the couch all the walls were coated in pictures and memorabilia that an avid motorbike enthusiast would have; pictures of him and Angus, pictures of motorbikes, members who had suffered and paid the morbid price of their life in times of war years ago. The centrepiece of art was the huge glass frame that was behind the small TV that balanced on a mound of concrete slabs. Inside the frame was the crisp and clean biker cut of The Lost MC; with President Tags and all. Johnny had taken it off after seeing everything burn and there it had remained since: a reminder that the outlaw life was over.

He stepped in his small kitchen and threw his keys onto the table that was home to a varying amount of dirty dishes and microwavable pots. He opened his fridge and pulled out a can of Pisswasser. He loved this little place. It was his sanctuary, even if it was a sh*thole. He slumped onto the sofa and flicked on the TV. The Men’s Room: No way. MeTV: He wasn't a pregnant teen looking for tips. He flicked on some rock music channel and zoned out with his cold beer slowly disappearing. He grabbed a familiar picture off the side table and stared at it. It was of him and Ashley before the drugs kicked in. He remembered her words before that fateful day at the correctional facility:

“I’m gonna go to rehab!”

She had said that and disappeared off the face of the earth. Johnny hoped she stuck to her word. At night when he couldn't sleep, he liked to imagine Ashley had actually gone to rehab, and instead of returning to old roots, she had moved on out to the West or something. Maybe she was a mom; maybe she had a family and was living her life in the now and not in the past like he was. Yeah, maybe she was. It was a happy thought, and it irritated him to think that all possibilities pointed to her being buried somewhere. For everything she did, he didn't hate her.

He found himself once or twice trying to contact her, but then he knew if she ever needed help, she’d skulk out of some place like a genie and would ask him to grant her three wishes. That wasn't why he wanted to stay. He’d biked to the airport three times to leave, bags packed ready for the West Coast. But every time he’d leave, he’d be shown off by the brothers and it made him want to stay even more. Sure they weren’t real family. But they were a f*ckload better than his own non-existent one.

He tapped the picture then slung it lazily onto the floor and gulped down the rest of the beer. He flicked the TV, it changed over with a loud flicker of static.

“REPUBLIC SPACE RANGERS!” yelled a choir of southern slack-jawed voices on the telly. He liked this show. It was the only decent thing worth watching in the early morning. He peeked at the two windows and saw the grey clouds of approaching drizzle, the faint rumble of thunder made its approach loud. The rain comforted Johnny and the beer on an empty stomach had gone to his head. His eyes began to droop as the night caught up with him and he slipped away into serenity with the Republican Space Rangers shooting some form of alien, and the rain of the early morning coating the tenement building.


This post has been edited by Ziggy455 on Monday, Oct 29 2012, 13:53

[Mokrie Dela]

Welcome back Zigs.

Good little chapter too. I like how your take on Johnny is both similar and different to mine. We both picture his life being lived out in a sh*thole, almost hopeless, with lots of memories and such, but also i get the feeling that Johnny's happy with this kind of life, whereas "my" johnny wallowed in self pity.

As said before, i like how the focus is away from carjacking and gunfights etc. The bit about ashley piqued my interest. I hope you follow that through

Anyway good to see you back man!

[Ziggy455]

Thanks for the read, Mokrie.

I want Johnny to not so much as wallow in past times as I want him to regard his past as one of the only times he felt normal in society. If the story goes the way I want to it, everything should come full circle. Thankyou for taking the time to read this, mate. I'm slowly trying write again but I'm still going through a tough time.

I'll upload another chapter tonight after I fumble around with it a bit. Cheers again!

Also cheers for putting City of Lies on PDF, saves me time!

[Mokrie Dela]

You're welcome fella. Hope you're enjoying it!

And I find that when I have sh*t going on, writing helps me - songs and poems. One of the poems linked in my sig was written at the height of some deeply personal issues I had, as was several songs. I think it helps

I got that sense about johhny too btw - I felt that he kinda misses those times even though they were not exactly great.

[Ziggy455]

DEPRESSION

The silver metallic letters that spelt out ROMAN’S was visible at least two blocks away east to west. Niko pulled up outside it and sat still for a few moments. Regardless of his strong weathered exterior, he was completely tired, and he was desperate for drink and sleep. The inside of the bar and restaurant was bright and the numerous blurred shapes of patrons should have made him happy. He ran one of the most successful bars in Liberty; a dream reserved for those who deserved it. Outside on one of the benches that lined the building, the blurry shape of a man hunched over was visible, a cigarette’s end lightly moving and getting bright and then dim as he inhaled; a puff of smoke entwining with the cold air.

He got out of the car as the figure stood up.

“Hey, dude.” Said the shape with his most formal gruff tone.

“Hey, Johnny.” Niko said impassively as he headed inside. The biker was probably ready to go home. He quickly looked around, the bar was stocked full of patrons while the restaurant area was choc-full of couples and friends eating heartily away. Mickey gave a quick wave to Niko and he did the same back before pointing upstairs, the head bartender gave a nod and Niko headed up to his office. Niko liked Mickey, when he invested in the bar business with his funds, he’d heard that Comrades had been shut down due to a smoking ban, and also the key patrons were Hove Beach loans sharks, and Mafioso members. He’d offered Mickey the job the second he heard he was on his ass. Mickey had been grateful ever since.

He stepped into his office. It was built into a large balcony that was always open, day or night. He immediately shot over to his liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of pure, clear vodka and a small glass. He hastily unscrewed the cap, and poured in the gasoline-like liquid almost to the rim of the glass. He gripped it lightly and walked out onto his balcony, the crescendo of sirens, yells, car horns, and tyre screeches were a lullaby to his ears now. Years ago when he had first arrived it had been much harder to adjust. The old country was quiet, except for the bombs. He stared out at the blurry mosaic-like traffic jams of red and white lights that split off south to north and east to west and began to drink. All of these years of drinking, even from the first bottle he shared with Roman, he had never gotten used to the taste of vodka. It never dulled the senses and began to taste sweet like scotch. It burned and it always would.

Niko turned back to the city and looked at the vodka, his equilibrium began to sway and he realized he’d drunk the whole glass in a matter of minutes. He launched the glass into the street below where it shattered against something out of view. He went back into his office, grabbed the bottle off the desk and sat down behind it. He unscrewed the bottle and continued to chug, ignoring the burning that seemed to coat his throat and stomach now. By his third chug the essence of time had sped up, and his eyesight had begun to shift. He didn’t want to move, he just wanted to drink and forget today.

He closed his eyes and didn’t feel the pain of hitting his head onto the desk as he passed out. Exhaustion had its way with him.


This post has been edited by Ziggy455 on Wednesday, Oct 31 2012, 11:00

[Mokrie Dela]

Nice chapter - the entire thing would have worked equally well with no dialogue, but the minimal inclusion of which I think was good

Only one problem I saw:
"He got out of the car and as he stood up."

You'll see the error there I'm sure

I got the theme well though. I've had a sh*tty evening and that drove right into how I feel ATM. No dilly dallying with purple prose or overthetop description, and I think that worked in your favour

I kinda wanted something to happen though. I realise it was an insight, but I dunno, it felt cut short tbh

[Ziggy455]

QUOTE (Mokrie Dela @ Wednesday, Oct 31 2012, 00:20)

Nice chapter - the entire thing would have worked equally well with no dialogue, but the minimal inclusion of which I think was good Only one problem I saw: "He got out of the car and as he stood up." You'll see the error there I'm sure I got the theme well though. I've had a sh*tty evening and that drove right into how I feel ATM. No dilly dallying with purple prose or overthetop description, and I think that worked in your favour I kinda wanted something to happen though. I realise it was an insight, but I dunno, it felt cut short tbh

I understand what you mean. I originally had this chapter to be much longer with dialogue between Johnny and Niko over Mallorie and such. It ended things well but I felt it seemed a little cliche - I'll try and edit it as it was my original idea anyway. Cheers for the read, mate.