Bacchus (With link to a picture)

Calvo felt the familliar tight ache in his belly telling him that his Bacchus gland was working overtime neutralising the rotgut alchohol he had been drinking. He had had the gland grafted in to his digestive tract almost a decade ago. As a smuggler and trader, many of his deals were made over drinks, lubricated by alchohol, and he had found it very useful to remain stone cold sober when others thought he was very drunk.

"Here's to Calvo....new hero 'o this dunheap town!"

A ragged, drunken cheer went up from the group packed in to the smokey converted cargo pod. The makeshift bar stank of stale sweat , bad booze, and desperation. Calvo raised his drink, served in an old fruit tin, and polished it off with a flourish, to the renewed roars and shouts of what passed for Tombstone's leading citizens.

Calvo had long since learned the secret of acting drunk: which was not to. Instead, he concentrated on making his actions too precise, focused on walking absolutely straight, tried to make his speach as slow and exact as possible, as he drank more. When actively thinking about actions he would normally carry out automatically, he found himself making the small errors so charactaristic of a drunk.He had had enough practice over the years to be extremely convincing.

"I'm no hero, guys......just a man 'got shafted by the damn system. Had nowhere else to go after I escaped, so I came here. Thought I'd bring a few present along..."

He grinned as he took another drink from one of the men, his storm gray eyes flicking from face to face. His modesty was going over well, he could tell. Good: if these scum felt they owed him something...

"No arguin'.....we say you're a fuckin' HERO!" This recieved a ragged cheer as Ravok got unsteadily to his feet to continue. "You get a prime place to sleep,best in Tombstone...s'got a heating unit an' everything. 'An you can have any of 'em guard cunts too!"

Calvo looked away, feigning shy gratitude.

"Look guys...I'm the one as should be grateful...you're giving me shelter and food after all." This was greeted as Calvo had hoped, by shaken heads and insistent voices telling him to take his pick of the guardswomen, together with coarse suggestions as to which might might be the best fuck.

"Well..." Calvo paused as if considering. ".....that slit eyed bitch you got strung up...if its not a problem?"

"That skinny little cunt? Gotta be froze dead by now. You sure? Tell ya what...here's the key to the hangin' frame. If she's already dead, come back 'an' chose again!"

Again cheering echoed in the cramped, filthy little 'bar' as Calvo levered himself to his feet, thanking Ravok profusely as he took the key. He Stumbled out in to the freezing darkness, catcalls and shouts following him out as the door swung closed behind him. Aware he might still be under scuting, he walked to the rusted metal framework where Dragon's pale, petite body hung naked and motionless in the icy wind. Unlocking the shackles at her wrists and ankles, Calvo hoisted her easily up on to his broad shoulder, patting her beautiful cold asscheeks.

"You better damn well be alive after all the trouble I've gone to...."

((Here's an address for an image illustrating this thread:

http://www.raunchyminds.com/gallery/details.php?image_id=9955&mode=search

As always, you need to login (free) at Raunchyminds before the address will work))