# Brandy Of The Damned

Title: Brandy Of The Damned
Status: Complete
Characters: Fang, Reed
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Anonymous
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It’s a late evening like any other in the busy city of Volcaldera Bluffs. The hustle and bustle of the workday giving way to the shiny and bright neon of the nightlife the city offered. The sheer number of signs and lights could lead one to believe the city was stuck in permanent daylight if they didn’t check the sky. Equally as many people headed out to take on parties, shows, and other adventures as the hustle and bustle of the city never ceases. Among these after-dark aficionados is a peculiar pink raptor, Reed Balboa.
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A dinosaur of unending intellect and ingenuity, or just plain luck depending on who you ask, Reed managed to forge himself a sizeable amount of wealth following the legalization of carfe in Dinofornia. Being one of the first legal dispensaries to open up allowed him to make quite a bit of capital. From there, he quickly turned to open another, and another, and so on as he forged a pseudo-empire in the local drug business. Despite the income, the raptor continued to forge forward living a more modest life than some of his contemporaries.
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On this particular evening Reed is en route to meet up with a potential business partner. Trying to find suppliers closer to home would be a boon for business: Lower logistics cost for supplies, cheaper production, cheaper prices for buyers, more sales. The prospective contact wanted to meet up at a local bar, “A nice quiet joint, hidden from tourists, good drinks, maybe some live entertainment if we’re lucky.” was the description he had given. The idea of a nice hole in the wall place away from all the noise of the town definitely appealed to the drug dealer turned established businessman, but of course, getting the deal done was the primary concern for him.
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He pulled the beat-up blue van he drove into the parking lot of the bar in question, managing to whip it into an open space at concerning speed with a deft flick of the wheel. The raptor climbed up and out of his seat, slamming the door to the old surfer van with a hip check. Even for an important meeting like this he wasn’t one for formalities. His attire consisted of a light-green hoodie accented with a few thick stripes, a simple ocean blue tank top, with the attire being rounded out by a pair torn black board shorts and a set of simple grey flip flops.
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With a quick stretch and lock of the van he made his way over to the bar. The place didn’t seem too packed, it definitely was a small one-off spot though. The building was as old school as it got: a dark brick façade that showed quite equal amounts signs of age and quality upkeep, a couple of ornately detailed stained-glass windows depicting Raptor Jesus along with Celtic crosses, and a deep chocolate brown walnut door featuring a stained-glass motif of a raven with wings extended and a dazzling purple eye, as well as a metal placard branded with “Byrne’s” to signify the name of the establishment.
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Pushing his way into the pub to the greeting of a bell chiming, the raptor took stock of all the current patrons. The interior was dimly lit and smelled musty like any other aging bar, with walls decorated top to bottom with knickknacks, memorabilia, photos and even more dino-Christian iconography. To top off the classical feal, some smooth jazz was playing over a cheap radio system the place had rigged up. A colorful collection of various species sat spaced around the room, though none resembled the contact he was supposed to meet. A cursory glance over to the bar proper showed a well-dressed light green pantydraco behind the bar and a monochromatic pteranodon. She wore a black tank top, torn up black jeans, and a pair of black knee-high boots. Her wings seemed disheveled and tattered, her crest was adorned with a black band, and she seemed... underweight, not to an extreme, but enough to be noticeable.
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The more he gazed upon her and took in the image of the figure in full, the more it came back to Reed. His eyes widened as his jaw began to slack. That wasn’t just any other ptero. She had gone to Volcano High with him. They played in a band together. They spent a good bit of their childhoods around each other. She has a name, and that name is Fang Aaran.
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After a bit of hesitation Reed finally decides to approach her... what would he even say? It’s been years since they last communicated with each other, let alone mention what even went down at the end of senior year. Best to start with the basics at least he assumes.
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“Fang... is that you, bro?” The normal confidence the raptor carried was partially cracked by the display of his friend in her current state.
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Fang, for her part, froze up entirely. The tattered pterodactyl hearing the voice of a ghost from the past, a life she thought was fully behind her. She clutched the rocks glass she had in hand harder, followed by the sound of ice clinking against the glass as her body began to visibly shake.
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“Fang, it’s Reed, from high school remember? We played in that band together.” There was a bit of audible shakiness to his voice. No amount the carfe could have possible prepared and mellowed him for what he was getting into here and now.
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“I know your name, Reed, now what do you want?” She didn’t even bother to turn and face him. Her head remained craned down towards the bar. Whilst one hand remained firmly on the glass the other clutched onto that hardwood piece, ever so slightly her talons were etching new marks into it.
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“I was supposed to meet with a buddy here, but it seems like he didn’t show up,” Reed pulled up closer, a look resembling a mix of dread and concerned had washed over that once confident smile as he sat down next to his former bandmate, “Guess we could talk and all, maybe have a few drinks. If you would like all that, of course.”
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The mention of more drinks poked the interests of the poor ptero, leading her to motion the barkeep for another round. Reed for his part followed up on that by signaling for a second, as well as a second gesture that showed he’d be picking up her tab. The barkeep returned back a subtle nod, quickly grabbing a couple of rocks glasses before producing two servings of whiskey on the rocks.
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Fang finally turned just a slight bit to glance over at Reed. To her, he looked like he had barely changed a bit, almost like a direct glimpse into the past of the happier times she used to have. “What do you want to talk about, Reed? What even is there to really talk about? Our time in high school is as open and shut as the fucking yearbook at this point.”
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“Well, what about what’s happened since then, amigo? What have you been up to over the past few years?” Reed picked up the glass he was slid and took a small gulp from it, swirling the contents around before setting back on the bar. His head turned to face Fang fully, one cursory glance could tell him that the years had not been kind to her, no matter what she said.
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“Things have been just fine. I moved out of my parents' place, got my own apartment, go around town playing gigs by myself. Just got done with a set here, in fact.” She gave a subtle motion with her head that directed the raptor’s eyes up to a small stage at the back of the pub. Sure enough there was a white and red guitar, leant up against a stand beside a mic setup. He immediately recognized it as hers, even though she barely got to use it back then. “What about you? You seem like you’ve not changed at all since we left high school. Judging by your attire my first guess would be you’re homeless or something.”
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“Homeless? Naw man, I run my own my own business these days. After they legalized carfe I opened up a distribution spot. I’m not the richest raptor in town or anything, but it pays the bills and all.”
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“So now you’re some big shot in town off government sanctioned drug dealing? Thought you hated the establishment and all that.”
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“Ain’t no shame in capitalizing on these kinds of things. I’d still be out there selling it even if it was illegal, probably would make more profit that way,” Reed slouched over the bar more, taking another gulp out his whiskey before taking another glance to the ptero, “What about yourself? I know you said you were off on your own now, but you look... rough, bro.”
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Fang’s brow furrowed as she glared back at him with a bit of malice to her expression, “I’m doing just fucking fine, Reed,” she then took up her own glass, taking a rather sizable swig out of it as she knocked out half the dose in one go, “No one needs to worry about me, no one needs to care about me. That’s just the way things should be. I’m out here for myself and no one else.”
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“I get the whole out for numero uno thing, amigo. But you really look like you need some help. You look all beat up and emaciated. I’m just concerned about how you’re doing.”
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“Is that how you butter up every dino you swing with now? You just tell them they look like shit and say you can fix them?” Another swig of the grog for the guitarist, leading for her to signal for yet another round to the barkeep. She was starting the third round that Reed was aware of while he was barely wrapping up the first himself. With each rocks glass seemingly being gauged at a double shot, she was setting up for nearly six shots total, if not more if she had more before he was there.
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“Awe, c’mon Fang. You know I don’t swing with anyone, that just isn’t my gig. Maybe one day I’ll find someone that interests me, but I’m not going around looking for hookups and such.”
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“Could’ve fooled me and everyone else in high school with that suave attitude and those eyelashes.”
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Reed blew air out of the corner of his maw as his eyes looked upward, settling himself back once again before taking another sip of the whiskey, “Just trying to be cool and mellow, never was a pickup act or anything. Just a bro trying to be a bro, just like I was to you.”
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Fang shot him another glare, though this time she didn’t turn away, nor did her expression shift from that death stare, “If you were my fucking ‘bro’ you would have supported me at least once instead of taking Trish’s side in everything.”
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“I’m sorry, I just didn’t-”
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“What you didn’t do was anything Reed! You let Trish run roughshod over the band and I just had to go along with it because you always agreed with her!” Reed tried to come up with a response as he was backed into a verbal corner. Upon him taking even the slightest bit longer than her liking, Fang took the initiative by lashing out further, slamming her hand down on the bar, “The band failed because no one fucking listened to me! Everyone acted like I didn’t know what was best for our group, that Trish was some business savvy genius that would take us to the fucking moon! Well, look where I am now Reed, I play by myself in random bars across town trying to make a buck to buy food! So much for the band being our fucking future right?”
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Reed, finally having a response to her ranting attempted to reply, but before even a word came out the pissed pterodactyl interjected again, “You two turned the thing I loved the most in life against me! It took a whole year before I even considered picking up a guitar again! Meanwhile you lived a cushy life running a business and Trish went off to do God knows what! How does it make you fucking feel seeing me like this now? How does it feel to know that you cause-”
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“I’M SORRY ALRIGHT!” Reed shot up from his stool and was now looking down on Fang as he leaned in towards her. His sudden outburst took even Fang off guard, the normally calm and collected dino-bro seemed to never raise his voice, but a boiling point had been reached to where he just couldn't hold back. By this point the majority of the patrons were staring at the pair, whilst the barkeep seemed ready to call the cops out at a moment’s notice, “I just... I didn’t like conflict and such, so I just did what I did to prevent it. I know I fucked up and all by not making my opinions heard and giving you a hand. I just didn’t want every day of hanging out to turn into an argument session.”
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The raptor finally settled himself back down onto the stool behind him, staring straight at the glass in front of him, “That’s what it was for so long, every day we’d get together and it’d just be arguments over what the songs would be called, what kind of attire we’d wear. It took us a whole month just to get a name because the three of us kept colliding over it. Given the fact my life at home was mostly just dealing with parents arguing all the time and not caring at all about me the rest, I just wanted a break from all of it. Band time was the only time I could find that, I became apathetic and just let stuff happen in the hopes everything would go smoothly. Yet here we are and all I did was manage to help drive everything apart man.”
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He grabbed that glass he had been working away at for a while now, polishing off the last bit of liquor that remained in it. Fang had seemingly mellowed back down from the rage she was in, even if clearly still on edge and upset over dredging up all these memories. The two sat in silence, not daring to look over at one another, until Reed finally spoke up with a query, “How often do you go out drinking like this, Fang?”
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She returned his question first with a soft sigh and roll of the eyes, then giving back a full response, “Every time I go out basically, every gig I do I usually chase with alcohol. Just makes everything that bit easier.”
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“That really isn’t healthy, amigo. It’s fine to go hard on alcohol here and there for parties and such, but doing this multiple times a week isn’t good. What’s causing you to drink left and right like that bro?”
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“Alcohol is the great equalizer, I can still enjoy a shit evening if I get hammered, not like I have any good evenings to compare bad ones to at this point.”
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“If you’re drinking that much and this often you’re an alcoholic, compadre. You’re getting yourself into a feedback loop of needing the stuff to get by day to day.”
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The pterodactyl rolled her eyes and glanced over at the raptor with a look of content, “Yeah, the local carfe addict is here telling me that I have a problem, that’s fucking rich.”
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“No one better to call out an addict than someone who was one themselves.” Another round of silence fell over the pair, Fang couldn’t dispute that fact at all, even if she wanted to.
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“I’ll be the first one to admit I haven’t stopped using carfe, not even close, but with help from others I at least managed to wrangle it back to a point that’s acceptable. I don’t keep myself dosed up on it twenty-four seven, nor do I hit it daily anymore, but I won’t lie to you and pretend I don’t still use the stuff.” Reed reached over and took the remaining glass that was in front of Fang and slid it down the bar past himself, placing him in between it and her.
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“My point isn’t that you have to stop drinking entirely, but that you need to realize that drinking like this isn’t going to fix your problems. It isn’t going to make you happy once the buzz fades, you’ll just be back to square one and wanting more of it. Instead of running from all the problems you’re experiencing you need to face them. You need to conquer all these doubts and painful memories you have soi you can move on, instead of hopping bar to bar hoping to block it all out.”
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Still no replies returned from Fang. The ptero just stared face down at the bar, trembling slightly as she took in every bit of what Reed was saying. The more analysis she gave to what he was saying the more it hurt. Not because what he was saying was vitriolic, but because every bit of it was right.
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“I know I was a shitty friend to you in the past, but please, let me help you out with this Fang. I don’t want to see you go down this path. I’ll do whatever I can to help you beat this and get to where you want to be... just trust me.”
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Fang responded to his pleading not verbally, but physically. She craned her body over towards his shoulder and leaned her head against it. She couldn’t help but give in to her emotions and begin weeping. It remained soft and subtle, yet between her actions and her trebling it was obvious enough to Reed as to how she was doing. He slowly drew his arm around her head, shielding her from the rest of the world as she cried into his arm. The storm was weathered and thus all that remained was rainfall, the disquieting aura around the bar washed away into a sense of somberness. The patrons around the room had returned to what they were doing as the show on display had ended.
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“I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help you. You’re still my bro, Fang, and I won’t leave a bro hanging when they need it most,” As she continued to weep into his forearm, the raptor reached his opposite hand into his pocket to fish out his wallet, sliding a card over to the bartender to go ahead and cover the tab, not even questioning what the actual charge was on it. “You can room at my place for the time being if you want. I’ve got a spare bedroom and some extra space you can have for now, up to you.”
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She gave a slight nod and a soft, reserved “Okay.” to him. He uncoiled his arm from around her head and gave her a soft pat on the back, hopping off of his stool to go and grab the guitar for her. By the time he had turned to head back she had composed herself enough to be waiting by the door. She glanced over at him, makeup running down her face from the waterworks, as well as her eyes glistening even in the dim light of the pub. Reed quickly made his way back on over to her and led her on out into the bustling city. A long road laid ahead for Fang, but at least now she had the help she needed, a friend to help her through these trials.