Bone Bank

IT ONLY BURNS GOING DOWN

Life. It was a horrid, viscous circle of hope, happiness, despair, and drunken hatred. To live, was to die. To Die, was to be reborn. But to be blessed, or cursed in this damn world of Pandora . . . no one knew. No one really knew the answers to why this world had two moons, or why there was night and day in a world that existed between time. it was no planet. It rotated and spun on no axis. It was its own realm, yet somehow it worked the way it did. Only one man knew the answers. Only one man could tell the story.

But dead men tell no tales.

. . . At least not in this man's case.

The smell of rum, beer, wine, and just about any poison that could kill a man lingered in his attire. He smelled of bad choices and poor decisions. He was a man. He was an adult. He wore his big boy pants and made big boy ... actions? Who is anyone kidding Ravage is the most horrible, godforsaken worse and greatest failure of the ocean. He's an absolut-

"Aye, woman. Ye have a coin to spare?" he asked the woman, his alcohol stained breathe lingering within the space between them. He had a habit of meeting the worst people at the worst time. but he was someone who was not to be fucked with. After all, he was the only one Kaseki himself, dared not try to kill.

A tree demon spirit, who drinks with his fingers, afraid of a drunken skeleton pirate who has a bottomless thirst for a tainted drink?

Wait, how the fuck does anyone drink without organs.

HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A TONGUE.