rhys cadwallader, bitches! (ex_tomfooler134) wrote in thedepository, @ 2010-02-14 20:12:00 |
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While the alcohol made the edges a bit fuzzy and calmed the distress some, he needed another point of focus that he couldn't gain from drowning in drink. And as he didn't quite have the gall to physically hurt himself, he was spoiling for a fight. It was easily one of those nights he went out looking to lose, not that he wouldn't fight back because that was just instinct, but more than anything he just wanted to get out of his own head and nothing quite did that like split lips, bruises and scrapes.
Maybe he would just stop fighting back, allow his body to go limp to that peaceful blackness of unconsciousness. Sure, it would all but guarantee him a few days at St. Mungo's, but it also meant the possibility of a few days black to the world and his striking lack of purpose in it. The thought had some merit, felt good when he washed it down with a shot of Jameson as he was escorted out of the second pub for the evening.
Eli walked out of the dive that all but kicked him out, mindlessly heading to the next nearby pub, a bit closer to Diagon than he would have liked, but he really didn't have the desire to wander because that might give him time to think. He was already sporting the beginning of a very nice black eye and specks of blood on his hoodie, although to be honest he wasn't sure if the blood was his or the other guy's. Not that it really mattered because there was blood on his shirt all the same. And really it was just the beginning of it, he was just warming up. However, nothing could have prepared him for the wrath of George Weasley.