WHO: Grumpy Leroy WHEN: Just as the Worst Emotion plot starts WHERE: The Graveyard WHAT: Grumpy in the graveyard RATING: It's not likely to be pretty. STATUS: Open
With a Sigh he realises he is laying outside on the ground, he takes a deep breath of the cool air and reluctantly opens his eyes, He swiftly closed them again and grabbed his head to check for lumps. Upon deciding it wasn't a head injury, he scrunched up his face and gently opens up his eyes. With the lack of grace that one can only truly master after a lifetime of drinking he took several attempts to launch himself to his feet. Finally using his axe as a crutch he managed to stabilise himself on his feet.
Taking in the scene looking at the dirt on his clothes the last thing he can remember is drinking in Granny's Diner as tendrils of dark smoke swirled past the window. The only thing that can be deduced is that more dark magic has been set loose and yet another curse has been cast, either that or he got really, really drunk.
Frankly on a normal day the drink would have been the more likely reason but the last normal day he recalled was quite a while ago, quickly checking his pockets he realised he doesn't have any drink left on him, he sighs and shakes his head.
Something in the air bit deeply into his lungs his head became clouded and he felt a wave of depression and anger sweep over him, who was to blame for this surely someone had messed with something and caused it, its not likely that anyone would have bothered to cast any magic at him specifically, no one generally noticed him, he was after all the town drunk.
Maybe he could matter, maybe he could try, but he was just a joke to everyone, even Astrid didn't speak to him much any more, well maybe it's about time he did something to get noticed, he could find out who was behind all this after all if he can't have a quiet little drink then he can damn well make some noise and try and find out what is going on.
The thought of taking this growing rage out on someone became suddenly more appealing, his normal instincts to suppress his anger seemed somehow to just fade away and the idea of making some noise and see who comes to gloat at him, took over his senses.
"OK... I'M IN A GRAVEYARD... who's grave am I digging?"
Kicking over some flowers he slams his axe into a tombstone, not hard enough to break it but enough to take a chip out of it and make a racquet.
"Come on show yourself, I will make you a proper hole for you to permanently crawl back into"
With that he moves onward towards the exit banging his axe against railings, graves or anything that will make noise.