InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "it's too late to apologize"

Merwyn Finwick (fallasleep) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2014-09-01 00:34:00

Entry tags:

character: merwyn finwick, character: zacharias smith

Who: Merwyn Finwick & OPEN

What: Alcohol makes everything okay, apparently

Where: The Common Room, Finnigan's

When: Sunday evening

Rating: Soft NSFW - drinking, language, tbd?

Merwyn had only been up since 2:00 that afternoon and he had already been drunk by 4:00, enough to hit on anything that moved passed his field of vision in a vaguely male shape but not so drunk that he wasn't able to kind of get around. It didn't really matter that he couldn't though, because he had been seated firmly on a booth corner seat and didn't even have to agree to getting the next round of drinks anymore, it was just taken for granted that he would. He'd had some girl he didn't know hanging off him and sure he'd been kissing her back now and again but it meant nothing, as he showed in the next instant when he'd tried to stand up, meaning to reach across the table before him and kiss the guy sitting across from him.

He couldn't remember now, but he'd been pushed semi-gently back down where he landed heavily, or as heavy as his non-weight could land, and giggled over nothing that was funny.

Two hours later and his 'friends' had filtered off to a club or home or somewhere else, leaving him alone bar a couple of guys. He didn't know where the champagne bottles on the table had come from - he certainly didn't like drinking it - but they were there and close and he lifted one up by the neck and swigged from it before putting it back down, sloshing it on the table and feeling around for a napkin to mop up the mess. Task completed, sort of, he put his chin in his hand because he couldn't hold it up otherwise and grinned at the guy beside him, suggesting they leave somewhere together.

Being told to fuck off by the guy you'd been getting the drinks in for in the past hour wasn't pleasant, but then neither was finally being left alone. Merwyn tried to look like it didn't bother him as much as it did, feeling around for his wallet and not even thinking about the fact that he might not have the money in it to pay the sizeable tab at the bar, not when his head was spinning the way it was.

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unspeakableness
2014-09-04 03:21 am UTC (link)

Zacharias's main mission in the pub that evening had been to investigate the bookcase in the Corner. He'd left several books a few days ago and had decided to wait to take any for himself since none on the shelves at that time had interested him. Some people might secretly or not so secretly enjoy trashy romance novels, but he wasn't amongst that particular crowd. He supposed, as a general rule, there wasn't anything wrong with them; they just bored him. Heaving bosoms and quivering members weren't his cup of tea so to speak. So he'd waited and watched to see if others left anything before finally decided to partake in the taking a book aspect of the case. Or, in this case, a few, which he reasoned was fine because he'd left more than one already. Besides, no one was policing it, and if someone had been, he'd have honestly just gone to the library instead.

After a thorough browsing of the contents of the bookcase and a cup of tea for good measure, he made his way to the bar, quickly paying his tab. He really didn't want to spend a Sunday night hanging out in a pub, and not just because he had work in the morning. Of course, it was better than spending Friday or Saturday night in the pub as, sometimes, he felt incredibly out of place after a certain hour in the evening. And on Sundays, he felt, to be honest, a bit pathetic, as if he had nothing better to do and nothing to go home to. While it was true he lived alone, he liked to think that, for the most part, he had more that he could be doing than spending time alone in a pub, though he didn't think ill of those who did choose to spend in pubs on Sunday evenings. They were just his own thoughts for himself.

Once his tab had been settled, Zacharias began heading out. However, something -- or someone -- caught his eye. He'd seen the other in there earlier when he'd arrived, doing things he didn't think he'd personally be caught dead doing in public (if for no other reason than he'd be terribly embarrassed to be seen snogging someone just about anywhere, even if it were just himself catching it in a mirror in the privacy of his own flat), but he'd also seen more people around him than there appeared to be currently. A voice in his head told him to keep walking, the door was in sight, the man would be alright, someone would make sure of it. And then another voice said, But what if he isn't?

I'm going to regret this, he told himself. I'm going to blood regret this, he continued as he changed direction and walked over to the drunk man. He cleared his throat, several images of just how badly this would probably go flashing through his mind.

"Stupid question, but are you alright?" Zacharias asked. In his opinion, he didn't look that alright, but he figured that was a better opener than pointing out just how drunk he appeared to Zacharias at that moment. Or how pungent the stench was coming off him. Somehow, Zacharias managed not to show on his face that he'd notice the smell, though it did make him wonder just how much this man had had to drink today.

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