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Bryn Cadwallader (nowinaminute) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Whether it was twisty or spiralling, it was a pain in the arse when you were hungover.

Bryn flopped himself onto the couch. "Just about," he said, raking his hand back through his fair hair. So there was his jumper, he realised, looking at Melinda. But what about his t-shirt? An image of the roof came into his mind's eye, so he resolved to check up there once he had regained more control of his body. "I feel like something died in my mouth."

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