Jonathan Kane was drinking, once again. The Trafalgar Ale had never tasted better. It probably wasn't a good idea to get drunk now, but he felt he deserved it. The Cardamine run earlier that day had gone well, much better than expected.
As a former alcoholic and as addiction-prone as a man can be, drinking wasn't a good idea, but at least it was better than the Cardamine addiction most of his clients had going on. They couldn't live without it, literally. ''Yeah,'' he thought to himself, ''I'm not that bad.'' That was true, but he had other things running through his mind instead of where to score his next shot of Cardamine. Like the meeting with that strange man later tonight. To Jonathan, the man had looked like a high ranking Corsair, but he couldn't place him.
On that note, he found the Corsairs a few tables away to be looking his way suspiciously often. Quite uncomfortable, two men stalking you. He tried convincing himself it was the alcohol and the exhaustion, but even then it didn't sit well with him. After a brief moment of trying to ignore the two suspicious men, he finished his drink and went to his room. Jonathan needed some sleep very badly.
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Comments: Just felt like writing a bit, and I just thought of a way to tell a nice story about this man, Jonathan Kane. I'm not a native English speaker though, so please forgive me weird sentences or grammatical errors. (But do point them out to me so I can learn!) I'll just write this on the fly, not really thinking to many steps forward. Should be fun.