Hey ya'll, it's Enderdeath! I hope you're having a great day and I hope to make it even better with this new story that was inspired by one of my drawings which was previously inspired by another fanfiction. So there's a challenge I've set for myself with this; basically, I have to have each chapter between 1,000 and 2,000 words and to have ten chapters. This chapter has 1,433 words, excluding the title and the author's note at the beginning and end. NOTE: I do NOT own Mianite, any Youtubers mentioned, Minecraft, any songs mentioned, and really, I don't own anything except the idea.
The Captain's Loss
From the second he saw her, the world faded to just him, her, and the flashing multi-colored lights. He saw her standing at the bar, a bottle filled with rum in her hands. Her wavy light brown hair was carelessly tossed over her shoulder and when she turned around to face the stripper pole, Jordan saw her eyes were a sparkling dark brown that looked like warm cocoa on a cold winter night.
As much as he scoffed at it, he couldn't deny that it was love at first sight.
"Hey. Hey, Jordan!" Tucker came over and gave Jordan a friendly punch on the shoulder. Beer sloshed from the mug that Tucker held and the Ash Ketchum look-alike struggled to focus on Jordan. "Watcha starin at, buddy?" His breath stank of alcohol and vomit and he swayed on his feet as he tried to look at the girl at the bar.
Tucker laughed coarsely. "Thaza looker aw right! You thunkin bout goin in hawt?" Jordan visibly winced and muttered something under his breath.
Tucker took it as a yes.
"Welp, go on then!" He crowed, shoving Jordan in the direction of the bar, almost unbalancing himself in the process. Jordan shuffled his feet nervously and turned his head, about to tell Tucker that he couldn't go up to her. But Tucker was stumbling off in the direction of the bathroom, his hands clamped over his mouth.
Now or never. Swallowing down his fear, Jordan walked over to the girl, who had just put the bottle of rum to her lips again, a little bit of the alcohol dribbling out of the corner of her mouth.
"Hi," Jordan decided to start off simple. The girl looked at him, lowering the bottle and giving him a drunken smile.
"Hello!" Her words were slurred but to Jordan, it sounded as melodious as an angel's song.
"My name is Jordan. Jordan Sparklez," The girl nodded and took another quick swig out of the bottle.
"Cora Capsize. Pleasure!" The girl, Cora, grasped her rum bottle firmly.
"Wanna come dance?" Jordan asked, and after a second, added, "pretty girl."
Cora laughed and tugged him onto the dance floor, weaving through the small crowd. The colored tiles seemed to shimmer from the light of the disco ball, and suddenly, a familiar song started blasting through the speakers.
"Sandstorm!" Jordan laughed and as the 'du-du-du-du-du's' resonated through the air, Jordan and Cora danced to the beat, their feet moving swiftly and their arms waving wildly. The exhilaration of the song, the mood in the strip club, and the mind-dulling beer all compensated into one feeling.
Love.
Love for the song, the rum, and the alcohol induced passion for each other. They danced, they yelled, they spun around and around until the nausea forced them to collapse into each other's embrace. Then they laughed and drank and danced.
Around 1 AM, Champwan walked in, bringing with him a generous supply of beer, vodka, rum, and a special mixture he called 'grog.'
"Acohol!" Champwan yelled, making sure he was heard, though it was almost impossible to hear with his drunk slur. "Git it! Iz good!"
Cora pulled a half-conscious Jordan over to Champwan and grabbed two bottles of grog. Everyone swarmed the grog and within two minutes, all of the grog was dispersed across the strip club, clutched in various hands.
And if possible, the Friday night party turned even crazier. The music became faster and more wild; the guys were practically drooling on the girls; and to top it all off, Tucker called for someone to pole dance.
Sonja made her way up to the pole and with droopy, bloodshot eyes, stared into the crowd with an enthused grin. But amongst the mass, Jordan and Cora were not to be found.
"I helped build this place, Cora. Let me show you a little secret."
"What is - oh my Nether! This is amazing!"
"I know, right!"
"Is that real lava?"
"As real as your own human flesh."
"Is this why you've brought me here, Jordan?"
"Why else, my dear?"
"Oh, it's going to be a fun night!"
XxX
Jordan blinked open his eyes, groaning at the stinging sensation. He rolled over onto his stomach and immediately started to vomit, the alcohol from last night making its reappearance in a disgusting and painful way.
Once he had stopped retching, Jordan gazed around, looking for familiar landmarks. He was in the middle of a desert, on a rather tall mountain. He saw a building a few hills away and got to his feet, barely managing to stand; he still felt tremendously ill. His head pounded as he took a step forwards, but he swallowed and continued on. Every footstep on the flat, hard sand felt like he was jumping down from a high place and landing hard on his feet.
His vision swam and once he reached the building, he collapsed against the outside wall of the sandstone structure. It was small, with no glass in the windows, but a countertop with an oven and a chest inside and a table outside. There was a sign by the building and it took Jordan several seconds to decipher the words.
"Dine-at-Nite?" Jordan read aloud, his voice sounding raspy and unused. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. He remembered Dine-at-Nite. It was a small restaurant Tom Syndicate had built in celebration for his birthday. It had been 'attacketed' by mobs and wasn't visited too often.
But here was the building, still intact, and he wondered…
He stumbled inside the building, holding onto the walls to balance. He opened the chest, the fine film of dust over the top of the chest drifting into the air. Inside the chest were a few pieces of bread, a cooked pork chop, and some potions of invisibility. Jordan took the bread and pork, making a sandwich for breakfast. His stomach churned but he kept eating, his hunger not yet satisfied. Once he was done with the sandwich, he sat down on the floor, feeling his stomach start to settle.
Now it was time to get back home. If he remembered correctly, home was in the direction of the green fields to the east. The sun was just about in the center of the sky, so he should have enough time to get back to his house.
He walked through the fields, tripping occasionally when it felt like a searing hot dagger was driven into his head. His headache only worsened, but at least his stomach was free from all alcohol. He caught sight of the edge of Champwan's fortress, and he headed towards it, thinking that maybe he could rest for a little while. Maybe Champwan had some milk to help get rid of this infernal headache.
He walked over the pressure plates at the entrance, triggering the redstone mechanism and opening the gates. The warm scent of bread baking filled the air and farm animals could be heard from the other side of the fortress. Jordan smiled and walked over to a little stall with a red-and-white cloth stretched over it to keep it shaded. There was a furnace that was slowly baking bread and sitting on the counter next to it were several buckets of milk.
Jordan lifted the bucket up and just drank straight from the metal container. He finished drinking and set the bucket down, sighing in relief as the pounding in his head faded.
"Hey Sparkly Pants," Jordan turned around to see Tom standing behind him, a weary smile plastered on his face. His suit was wrinkled and stained, so different from its normal immaculate look.
"Hello Tom. Did you have fun last night?" Jordan smiled back, adjusting his glasses. Tom nodded but didn't speak.
"You got any milk?" Tom asked. Jordan grabbed the bucket of milk and handed it to Tom, who immediately started to gulp down the refreshing liquid.
"Thanks," Tom grinned and handed it back to Jordan. "Where did you go last night? We were looking for you but we couldn't find you."
Jordan's thoughts were suddenly whirled back to last night. He remembered the sharp taste of grog, the flashing lights, and a girl with chocolate eyes. He remembered going into the back room with the girl and…
"I was having the best time of my life," Jordan winked. Tom nodded knowingly and rubbed his eyes.
"Worst hangover ever, though," Tom yawned, collapsing onto a nearby bench. Jordan walked over and sat down next to him.
"Agreed," he murmured, eyes closing as soon as he hit the wood.
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I have a goal of at least two reviews, so if you want a new chapter tomorrow, review or wait until next week! (I will see how many reviews I have at 2:30 PM tomorrow and that will determine when I post the next chapter.) Just FYI: Milk cures everything. Everything.
Random observation: It was really fun to write about drunk Tucker! I have no idea why, it just was.