Monsters and Men (Onee-san and Rika Production! :o)
Every night was like this. The incessant, clinking of glasses, which were previously sliding down the long table. Men laughing, and seeing which can talk louder than the other. Stories tossed around of monsters and lore, only to be bested by a larger tale. Hazlitt had heard it all, and his ears became used to such hardcore situations. He'd become used to looking into those eyes of experience, those eyes who had seen far too much for a man. That was, just possibly, every man in here. But for once from a long day, they were relaxed, and smiling, and enjoying their selves, and.. not having to cut open a belly, or knock out 13-inch teeth. Hazlitt was adjusted to seeing every one of these men waltz into the bar, take a seat, and Hazlitt would already know certain glasses to slap down, certain drinks to mix, certain whatever the men ordered. Certain questions to ask, certain words to say, a certain humor to exchange. Yep, regulars were always fun to have.
So, as the night dragged on, the men-drenched bar slowly started to single out to Hazlitt's preferred type of mood. He liked minimal conversation, or at least a quiet, calm type of setting. This was the time of night where he would be cleaning off glasses, clearing off tables, and.. where he would come. Hazlitt paused his busy hands on the glasses he was polishing, and a sigh escaped him, shutting his eyes. Eoghain. Or, "Gain" to his friends. But, "The White Wolf" to most, which Hazlitt didn't really address him as. He liked "Gain", and Gain was basically the only one he truly enjoyed having in his tavern. Not that everyone else was plain awful, but Gain had an interesting air around him that most did not have. Specifically, he actually had a mind on him. That was something Hazlitt would take fancy to any day.
Suddenly, a glass from the west end of the table hit the ground, and Hazlitt rushed over to carefully pick the remaining pieces up. My goodness.. I seem to always leave this world when I am thinking of him. It's funny. Through the reflection of glass, Hazlitt could spot bi-colored eyes, and a tired grin from all of the business. It must have been, what? 2:00 AM? Yawn. He was glad, though. Most of these men had families to go home to. Most of them. Even Gain did. Well, sort of. Picking up the remaining bits, he set them in a rusted bin, and cleared his throat, returning to polishing the glasses, placing them high up on the shelves(tiptoeing it, of course).