Board Thread:Role Play Discussion/@comment-24435042-20140717210338/@comment-1691394-20140728121733

After wandering around aimlessly for an unspecified amount of time, Aeron finally found his way to the mess hall. He had been actually looking for a comfort room, but he lost the need to urinate awhile ago... He silently prayed that no one would pick up a certain plastic bag on Aisle 12-C.

"It smells like Leif Erikson day, but with much less facial hair." Aeron remarked as all sorts of weird and wondrous scents made its way to the his nostrils. He walked towards the nearest table and sat down. He stared at his seatmates, who ignored thankfully, and realized that he didn't know who anyone was and why they were here. His mind began to race with more questions. Were they friendly? Would they like him? Why DID the chicken cross the road? Did it need health care? What is health care for anyway? How many questions was Mr. Brain gonna ask? Why are we even here?!

Suddenly Aeron coughed, his throat burning. The distinct, acidic taste of alcohol rolled off of his tongue. It didn't take him long to find the source of it, a bottle of booze from a tipsy, grey-haired young man. The man had taken to waving it around in a sloppy manner. This couldn't end well for anyone.