In the basement of a bar

[Harmonic]

Rensin stood in the circle, his fists up. He'd been fighting this jerk for about ten minutes now. His eye was already starting to swell, a nice big purple lump on his young face. He was wearing no shirt, and his black leather pants, along with some very basic gloves. The guy across from him was older, with black hair, with just a hint of grey, and a long jagged scar over his eye.

Rensin narrowed his good eye for a moment, trying to read the guy, who had at least a good fifty pound on him, however it was all in the gut. He saw his right shoulder jerk back, and Rensin threw up a block, quickly, as the punch met his forearm. Sin grabbed it, twisted it, and started to pummel the man's face...

What was this poor fella's mistake? Drunkenly calling Rensin pretty boy, over and over, while making kissy faces at him. Rensin challenged the fat asshole to a fist fight, knowing full well everone was going to bet against him.

They went down to the ring, one made in the soil of the bar's keg filled basement. This ring had dirt that was caked with dry blood. This was a fighter's bar. Not some place you go after visiting the Chappel for a friendly round of drinks.

Before the fight could even start, the fat bastard threw a sucker punch at Rensin, catching him off guard and getting his cheap shot in, along with approving laughs from the crowd.

However... now the tables have turned. Rensin was breaking the man's face. His nose was smashed, his eyes already starting to swell. His lips were cut, and brused. Rensin's gloves became covered in blood. He needed this today. For some reason, he welcomed this fight.

He yielded, dropping the sobbing fat man to the floor. Rensin spat to the side, walking around the circle. "This ain't no real ba'. You all are a bunch o' jaggoff wusses." He looks down at the man on the floor. "Pretteh boy? You think I'm -pretteh-. Go drink yourself t' sleep, y'old git. Think twice b'fore pickin' on someone like me." Rensin put up his fists. More money was laid on the table. "You ain't gonna be part o' no good crew, if ya don' fight."

He smiled. He waved for someone to come take him on, with his fingers. His fists were balled up, and ready again. "Who's next?"

His eye was turning purple now.

(I should state, you can feel free to join!)

[Harmonic]

Rensin smirked as he downed the drink infront of him. It was a light, mischevious smile, accompanied by a glint in his eye that the 'tender had seen time and time again.

"What's on your mind, lad? No doubt a good story to hear over such a dull night, eh?"

Rensin looked up at the bar tender. He let out a chuckle.

"Well, actually. Was thinkin' of the first time I had my ass handed t' me by someone. Kinda a silleh story, considerin' that it's about me gettin' the tar kicked outta me." Sin let out a light chuckle, taking a swig of his ale. The bartender shrugged.

"One story is as good as the next, boy. Just tryin' to pass the time." The bartender took Rensin's drink, and topped it off. Redjaw shrugged, and leaned back.

"Well. Right."

Rensin went over the story. He was younger then, just nineteen, and was sitting at the bar, drinking with some of his friends at the time, mostly people his age, that were all as dumb about the world as he was. They were oogling the waitress, when a man walked in, dressed in fine, frilly clothes. He had a small, delicately made sword at his side, and his hair was well groomed. He had a mustache, curled on each end.

Rensin and his friends spotted the man, and immediately they began to laugh their asses off. On of his friends leaned in and whispered, "Hey, that guy is SI:7! I swear on the light I've seen him there! I didn't know they used dandy fellas like that there! Ha!"

Rensin smiled. Being the type of man he was, he stood, and winked at his buddies. He walked to the counter, and stood next to the man. The barmaid walked by, Rensin looked her over once more, and slapped her ass. "Ge' some more ale for me an' my pals, love." The woman yelped, and sneered at Rensin. She went back behind the bar. Redjaw looked the man over, smacking his lips together dryly. "Well-y well. What do we 'ave here? Ain'cha kinda outta place here, berk? With your pretteh clothes an' nice lookin' hair? D'aww. You curl your own mustache?"

The man ignored Rensin, wearing a scowl on his face. He continued to drink his drink, one that was very vividly colored and had an umbrella in it. Rensin saw it, and laughed. "I bet your boyfriend loves it when ya curl ya mustache."

The man turns, and faces Rensin. "Listen, you lout. I have -no- time to fuss with you, and quite frankly, you're bothering not only me but most the people here. I highly suggest you leave. Now."

Rensin's friends broke into cackles of laugher. Rensin only smiled, showing off his teeth to the man. "Or what? Ya gonna tickle me with your little toy there?"

The man sighed, and sat down his drink. "No, stabbing a buffoon like you will not get through. I suggest a fair bit of pugilism, outside, away from here. Me and you, only. Your friends do not need to join in."

Rensin nods. "Oh, you're so righ' you don' even know, berk! Hah!" Rensin walks out the door, not waiting for the man to follow. He walks till he finds a mostly secluded area, where he sets down his shirt and coat, and puts his fists up. The man does the same, showing off his surprising physique in the process. This did not worry Rensin however, as he was sure he had the upper hand on this fuddy duddy, as he had described it to the bartender.

The bartender laughed. "Lad, you challenged a well dressed man from SI:7? Were you drunk or just stupid."

Rensin chuckled. "Stupid. I din't know wha' the f**k SI:7 was, what they did, or what type o' berks belonged to tha' sorta place. But I learned."

Rensin described how he put up his fists, and went forward, towards the man. He made a feint to the right, and tried to land a hard left hook, but within that moment, the man latched onto his arm, and started to pummel Rensin's face. Ruthlessly, the man unleashed a barrage of punches that slowly made 'Sin lose conciousness.

Rensin told the 'tender that he woke up the next day, with his money bag gone, as well as his shirt and coat, in one of the back alley's of Stormwind. He felt like he tried to tackle an angry mountain goat, and just layed in the alley trying to tune out the pain. He chuckled.

"Well, come to find out, he was the heir t' some fortune, an' his father saw to it the guy got a lot of trainin' to get his position in the SI:7. Best gold coul' buy."

The bartender laughed. "Yeah, no shit. Y'know, you were so drunk that night... I'd have told you that if you hadn't been harrassing my daughter all night."

Rensin frowned. The bartender laughed. "Boy, get the f**k out of my place. Wouldn't have known if it was you if you hadn't told me that shitty story."

Rensin grunted, and got up to leave. "I need my own fuckin' bar."

[Harmonic]

Last time on Rensin Ball Z, we left our intrepid anti-hero in a bar, getting kicked out. He's learned that he can piss people off without trying, and we've learned that he's very capable of losing fights. What will the future hold for our young spriteful man? Will he finally get love? Probably not, unless he pays for it. Too bad he's poor. Now for the next episode.

Rensin drank a bit from his flask, wearily walking his way to Booty Bay. He had grown tired of getting kicked out of bars for petty crap that happened in the past, and had silently made the descision to move on to the Goblin lands, where in his mind, things were much easier for a man who didn't care enough to watch out for other people's toes.

He started the trip a few days earlier, making sure he had the supplies, which consisted of a bit of food and enough liquor to last a normal person a week, as well as shorts and sandals for when he reached the warmer climate. His ultimate goal would be to go to Ratchet, via boat.

The trip was mostly uneventful. However, in the bar, he told the 'tender that he had to suplex a gorilla to get there, and needed a drink badly to wash away the pain of harming an innocent creature of the jungle. At this point, he was severly innebriated, and the barman suggested a room instead, which Rensin bough with the little money he had left.

[Harmonic]

Rensin laid back, feeling the comfort of the bed. The worg pup he'd recently purchased, Ornalu, let out a low growl at the foot of the bed, as it gnawed on a large bone. Sin let out a light chuckle, watching the dog play. He folded his hands over his stomach, and let his thoughts flow.

I like it here, in Hearthglen. Not everyone gets me, but basically everyone is nice, even if some of them pester me about smoking and drinking. I think I'm going to stay here, if not make a place for myself in this town. Doing random jobs that are posted on the boards. Of course... that's if I don't...

He pulls a cigarette out from the drawer next to his bed. He puts it between his lips, and lights it, laying back and taking drags from it. He stares at the cieling, and Ornalu starts to crunch the bone slightly, wagging his tail.

If I don't go with Rofupi. That little bastard. I know he thinks I can't do it... but then am I doing it just to spite him, or for my own reasons? If I do this for the wrong reasons, it'll probably go nowhere, and I'll never learn anything from it, other than Rofu is good at kicking my ass. Damnit, why did I have to lose that fight against him?

He turned, and dumped his ashes into a nearby ash tray. Sin let out a frustrated sigh, and pulled the dog and bone onto his gut. He started to stroke the dog's head.

Maybe there are other ways. I haven't drank in a while. That could mean that I could go the straight and narrow, like pa did. Pa was a good man, and people liked him, but again, is that for me? Or am I stuck doing what I do now? Chasing after women like Annabelle, who already are getting married? Am I staying here for the right reasons even? I honestly don't know. Rensin, what the f**k are you doing with your life? WHO are you? You honestly don't know, and the traveling isn't helping you any with finding that answer.

Stay here for a while. Get to know people. Help them. See where it leads. This could be the home you've been searching for, for years. The home you've wanted since ma and pa died, leaving you alone. Leaving me alone.

At that moment, Ornalu, as if he sensed Sin's turmoil and tension, bit his finger, hard. Hard enough to draw blood.

"OW! Y'lil' shit! G'damnit!", Rensin yelped, as he sat right up, almost immediately forgetting what he was thinking about. His cigarette's ashes littered the sheets. He glared at Ornalu. Ornalu panted happily, wagging his tail.

[Harmonic]

The cold liquid hit his dry lips, and splashed delightfully in his mouth. He swirled it around, and savored the taste he hadn't tasted since the last fight he had with Rofupi. He closed his eyes, and continued to suck the liquor from the bottle, as if he was nursing from it, which for all intents and purposes he was. He finally allowed himself to take a breath, a deep one. He felt the heat in his belly, despite the cool liquid inside. The heat intensified, until it released in the form of a loud and obnoxious belch.

Those damned thoughts hit his head. The thoughts that only the drink could bring.


"Revenge."

"On who, boy? You don't know who did this."

"On Don. Son of a b***h didn't take care of her."

"You know that's a lie, Sin. It's a lie you want to hear."

"Then on the city that failed to protect her."

"You mean the city that took you in? The city where your friends live?"

"Shut up, you damned voice. Why do you always sound like my father?"

"Because I'm the voice of reason, boy. That's why."

"Reason my ass. You died, bastard. You died and left me alone, to fend for myself."

"And you turned out fine."

"Shut. Up."

"Admit it boy, there's nothing you can do."

"Yeah, yet. Let me find out some fucking names."

"Then what?"

"You know."

Before long, the thoughts started to muddle. His brain felt fuzzy, and the liquor had started to dribble down his cheeks, and soaked him with the foul odor of alcohol. He pulled his knees to his chest, and held on to the bottle for dear life.


"This is bullshit. Pure bullshit."

"Things like this happen, lad."

"To me. All the time."

"It's not your fault."

"For not knowing? You always taught me that's a shit excuse."

"This time it doesn't apply."

"Yeah, right. You're not alive. You're not real."

"In your heart, you know it doesn't."

"Shut up, I said."

The fog in his head turned into a cloud of smoke. His brain had been consumed by the drink. He could smell himself, and it had made him gag slightly in between the thoughts. The burps hadn't helped. Neither did that fact that he missed the drink so much.

"I gotta fight, pa."

"No you don't, boy. You have to wait."

"No. If I don't, they'll win."

"You don't know who they are!"

"Everyone, pa. Everyone. I can't trust any of them. Not even you, or Anna."

"So, you're blaming her too now?"

"She died. She left. She could again."

"But she won't. She's alive, you saw."

"She's a 'potato', and you're dirt."

"Son..."

"Shut the f**k up!"

Rensin stood. He yelled at the dirt, and kicked it around. He flailed drunkenly. He violently started to empty the contents of his stomach on the pavement, painting it with the foul smelling expensive liquor. He threw the bottle to the ground, and let it shatter.

"Shut th' fu' up! Shut th' FU' UP! G'DAMN! G'DAMN!" He fell to his knees, screaming at the sky, before he finally passed out, in the pool of vomit, glass, and anger.

His dreams were just as foul.

[Harmonic]

How bad can it be to take a nap, in a random place? Or where you feel is random?

The water hit the side of the ship, making it sway back and forth. Rensin woke up in one of the bunks, caked in his own bile. He had a half opened bottle on his stomach, which fell off of his chest and shattered. Ornalu yelped as the bottle crashed to the floor, and whimpered at his master in worry.

Sin grunted, and rubbed his forehead. " 'Ow long 'ad I been out?"

A nearby Goblin grunted, and laughed. "Only a couple days. You wandered on here with the lil' worg, and said something about how you wanted to screw everything, then started laughing really hard. You passed out, so we just assumed you wanted to travel. We took the appropriate gold from you, and, well, -now- you're on your way to Ratchet."

Sin grumbled, while still trying to process things. He was fighting through a bender hangover, one that he hadn't felt in a while, and he had forgotten how to handle such things. He looked to the goblin with his bloodshot eyes, and just muttered, "It's prolly fo' th' best. ...I didn't belon' thar."

He laid back down in the bunk, and took a big whiff of his own odor. He gagged slightly, and played it off with a cough, before closing his eyes, once again letting his thoughts consume him.

"Why was I there in the first place? For money. I was making alright income, but not really anything that I couldn't do at Ratchet, selling weapons, doing some fighting, all that shit. So why was I sticking there? Some woman who I barely knew? Sure, she was pretty, and nice. I'm mad about her death, but, why does it have to affect me like that? Ma. Pa. I miss you both so much. I think that's why I got so damned hurt. I need to stay away from places like that. Places of death and decay. I need to go back to Ratchet, and worry about getting a foothold there again."

He sighed, letting out another cough.

"I need to stop worrying so much. Go back to drinking. It makes me feel right, despite Rofu's bullsitshit about fucking nature and the meanings behinds stuff. There's no meaning you have to get from taking a healthy swig of strong shit, other than 'This means I won't have to remember'. That's all that matters now. Screw Hearthglen. Screw that council. Screw Rofupi. Screw the Argents. I'm gonna do my own thing."

He growled before turning on his side, and attempted to sleep.

[Harmonic]

Those dreams. I have them more frequently now.

I can smell the bread baking. It's so delicious smelling, I can't help but wander into the kitchen. And there's Jean. Baking the bread, with his shirt off, sweating. The beads of sweat roll down his muscles, glistening in the dimly lit candles and fire from the oven, as if the man was covered in beads.

I smile at him, looking at his butt, like always. For some reason, I find it so shapely and appealing, that my eyes just automatically glance to it. Now, I can not only smell the bread, but the scent of the man before me. It drives me crazy. It's a very light smell, almost like a female rather than a man, however, I've known Jean for a while, that's just how he smells... clean.

I come up behind him, and tap his broad shoulder. "Hey pal, can ah have a taste?" He smiles at me, taking the warm bread at setting it aside. He takes a bite, and dangles it from his lips.

I lick my own. I can't help it. I lean in, and gobble up the bread. Our lips meet. His mustache tickles my lip. His big arms wrap around me, and I let out a sigh, breaking our lips apart.

I softly giggle. "Oh Jean, I feel so safe in your arms..."


Then I wake the hell up, drenched in sweat. All I can do is smoke, and drink, and drink, and smoke. I don't know what the hell has been going through my head, but, I've never felt like that about a man, let alone have one invade my damned dreams. It almost makes me sick, yet... it also feels natural. Like I've been doing this my whole life. It's odd really, because it's almost as if I don't think of him as another man.

I don't get it. -Why- Jean? Why me? What does this mean for me?

[Harmonic]

The berk started to pack up his various belongings. Like usual, his thoughts swarmed him like a group of angry hornets that think someone is stealing their larva.

"That b***h. Making me think that I was falling in love with a man. The things I told him... er. Her. The constant rejection. Why? Because she's a coward that can't face the facts that she's a woman that's slightly man-like. I'd have accepted her, but noo, instead she pretended to be a friend, and... paraded around all confident, when really she just... wasn't. Now I'm even more fucking confused."

He threw clothes into the trunk... all two sets other than what he was wearing. They were wadded into wrinkly balls. This only made him think of Jean more, for some reason.

"I'm apparently such a fucking sexist that women can't act natural around me. ...Just because I talk about how many women I've banged and... who. And where. And how. Well! You know, I guess. I guess that's fucking payback, right? Making me think that I could be gay, when really I'm not. I mean, I seriously sat and thought about that shit for months. The drinking, and drugs to help me deal with what might have been the truth... only to find out it was -another- damned lie! Jean was my best mate, along with those two fucking asshole gnomes I know. But. She turned out to be more of a dick than the two of them combined. I'm glad I punched her in the face."

He looked to his dog, Ornalu. He sighed, scratching him behind the ear.

"I mean, how better to show that she's still 'the same' to me? Instead, she wussed out and walked away like I offended her. So what, suddenly she's gonna act all girly 'cause she told me she's a woman? I don't get this shit... how does that work? First, she wants me to treat her like a guy, now she wants to act like a woman?"

He set the trunk on the ground, and sat on it trying to get it to clasp shut.

"f**k Stormwind. f**k the foreclosure. f**k Jean, f**k this... whole goddamn mess. I'm going to Dalaran. I'm going to find out who makes the brew I've heard about, and taste it. I'm going to go other places too, and do other shit. Get to know more people. Get in fights... all the good stuff. Find out who I -really- am. Put my thoughts on my parents to rest."

He looked down to his dog. "Ornalu... first thing first. Imma have to let you go, lil' fella. Where I'm goin', I can't 'ave pets."

Ornalu whimpered, and layed his head back down without protest. Sin opened the door, and dragged his trunk outside. He left the house behind.

[Harmonic]

Dear diary,

I haven't written in you since that one time Jean found you and read it out loud to the bar while Piken served eveyone a round of ale to hear all the garbage that I've written in you, which at the time was mostly... the shitty feelings I was putting up with when I thought Jean was a man. So, sorry for that, I've sort of been turned off to the idea every since they've been calling me "Fanny bandit Nancy Pants", a name which almost stuck till I found out Jean was indeed a woman, complete with flat breasts and muscles bigger than Piken's skull.

Anyways, I wanted to write in you now to explain my "Voyage". I stowed away on here probably about half a week ago, living in a crate that was intended for dried beets. Sometime yesterday, I was found by the Orc Corlmitz.. who sniffed me out. Wasn't hard to do, considering there wasn't a shower or bathroom in the damn crate.... sooo, well, you could imagine how that went.

But, then the ship was attacked. The beast was probably... twenty, no, maybe fifty feet tall. So, the beast started like, rockin' the air ship, right? Well, here's what I did, Diary. I jumped on the fucker. Right on it's head. Made it first try, too. Started stabbing it in the eye with my swords, right?

I had to dodge cannon fire. They were going full blast with the cannons... I can't say I blame them, they didn't -know- that I was so damn awesome. So anyways, here I am, killing this thing with my bare hands, and I get hit on the ass by lightning. Then in the gut by a cannonball. (Luckily, it bounced off). A few more blew up near me, littering me with shards of metal. Then I got a spear through my arm.

The beast let out a sickening howl. I howled back, spitting in it's open eye wound. I swung back to the ship by my arm wound, using the spear's rope attached to it to do so, as the pussy-beast that was seventy feet tall swam away, bleeding from it's face like a whiny git.


I got healed, mostly, and I've been picking metal out of my face all day. Been tellin' this story at every port we've stopped at. Hasn't gotten me laid yet, but it's so amazing, I don't think it'll take much time. Maybe JEAN will look at me in a different light, eh? Not like I care, she ain't my type. Ehh, she is a woman though, and I've had worse, so who knows. She'd probably beat me with a pan though if she found this.

She'd also probably read this out loud if she did. My name is Jean, and I'm actually a woman. Also, Rensin is a sexy beast.




Take that!




Anyhow diary. I think that's enough for story time. I'll write in you more when my hand stops feeling numb from me punching a Kraken to death, and until then, uhh. Stuff. I suck at writing.


-Sin

[Harmonic]

Rensin sat down, stretching in his room. He let out a sigh as a few bones popped. He currently was in Ratchet, in the inn. He started to write what appeared to be a poem, Entitled "The Person of Whom I Once Had Thoughts Of".

Now and then I think of when we'd bake bread together,
Of when I was so hungry I could die.
Told myself you had a peen,
But felt wierd about your company,
I thought I was falling for my own gender.

You can get addicted to a certain kind of woman,
but it's hard when you think you like men, always the men.
So when I thought that did not make sense,
you did not spare me from my ignorance...
But I'll admit I did not care.

But you didn't have keep it up,
didn't make out with me or nothin',
I really thought I needed manly love!
I thought about the idea and it felt so rough.
You didn't have to dupe me bro,
pretend you had a penis and hide your gender...
I guess you're a woman though,
Now you're just some girl that's not a bro.

Ding ding ding ding...

Now you're just some girl that's not a bro.

(I think this would be the part I'd write for her, so I will.)

Now and then I think of all the times you talked about screwing girls,
Had me believing you'd be after my bum.
And I didn't want that shit,
with your smelly bits,
you said you'd never though,
But you always swung them to and fro!

But you didn't have keep it up,
didn't make out with me or nothin',
I really thought I needed manly love!
I thought about the idea and it felt so rough.
You didn't have to dupe me bro,
pretend you had a penis and hide your gender...
I guess you're a woman though,
Now you're just some girl that's not a bro.

Somebody...

Somebody...

That's not a bro.

[Harmonic]

Alcohol. My lifeblood. I've never been able to admit it, but I'm quite the alcoholic. Sure, it's funny to see me stumble around, acting like a fool who can't speak properly, but I don't do it for the entertainment. My heart runs cold, because no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, people drift away in my life either due to death or because I am infact... an asshole. Jean, Rofupi, all of my friends... are never around when I need 'em. Problem is, and the -truth- is, I'm the one that's not around.

So here I sit. Drunk again, passed out, unaware of what's happening to my body. And I'm okay with it... I fucking -embrace- it even. That cold feeling running through my heart, pumping to my organs, making me become how I feel inside.

I can tell you right now---I've failed my mother and father. They had high hope for me as a child, to become some sort of knight that could "Save Azeroth" from all that plagues it. Instead, I became a drunken drifter in life, searching for something that was never really there to begin with in loose women, drink, entertainment, and the empty pleasures of life. I don't have anything to show for it.

I'm convinced if I had children I'd only put another person on this planet that had a Daddy who wasn't worth a damn. So you know what? f**k it. f**k all of it. I'll let this shit course through my flesh, just like every other night, I'll wake up...

Except this time it will be different. This time I won't wake up. I'm dying, slowly in this bed. I'm not even aware that I've already vomited on my chest, or that I'd started to convulse in my drunken stupor. I didn't even know that before morning broke... I was gone.






A single rap came to the door. Rensin laid in the bed, motionless. He didn't draw breath, his chest didn't heave. The only sound came from the bruiser, who let out a single "tch".

"Get this one to Doctor Spachemin. I heard doc need cadavers. This one though might as well be a freakin' pickle. Mogul's sake, no wonder there were complaints, you smell that?"

The End.

Epilogue

Doctor Spachemin received the body post-haste. While examining the cadaver he found multiple things. The man indeed was severely diseased. Sadly, it seems his frivolous nature led to a sort of mashing of many interesting and odd things... none of which should ever be discussed to any extent, other than what Doctor Spachemin would call the "Grossest freakin' thing I've seen yet" syndrome.

In regards to the liver... the good Doctor had a hard time finding one. What he did find, was something that looked like a shriveled prune. He found it soley on smell, as it resembled an olive that had been dunked in hard liquor for dozens of years. Along with this was the finding that one of his kidneys had failed a long time ago, and accompanied with multiple unattended fractures to his ribs led to much organ damage, which probably aided in his death.

There was a tattoo on his rump, a small one. It said "Jean".

The body parts were thought to be mostly useless, however, Spachemin sold the bones to a bone-carver.




Currently, Rensin is on bid as a silverware set, with the miss-labeling of them being "Ivory Lavish Dining Ware". In truth, even the gold inscribed on the bone is fake.

[Harmonic]

Spoiler:

Rensin, getting ready to be the centerpiece of some wealthy goblin's collection.

[Mikain]

((Part of the "Absolute Sin" Collection. Spoon set sold separately.))

[c0rzilla]

[Harmonic]

(Don't even want to know how those were made.)