hear you scratch your skin, your sandpaper throat Who: Northstar, OTA What: Following this, Jean-Paul gets thoroughly drunk. When: Sunday night/Monday morning Where: The Blue Danube Warnings: HA HA UM. LANGUAGE?
"Fuck."
He knocked back his sixth whiskey, doing shots quickly enough that his intention to get super extra drunk was pretty obvious. He had a cigarette in one hand and a glass in the other, Wisdom's stupid Excalibur communicator on his person somewhere, and his cell phone, out of habit, not because he wanted to be tethered to the damn thing right now. He didn't want to take any calls right now, not from his "friends" (hah!), not from Raymond, definitely not any booty calls. Five days to one of the most stressful holidays of the year for people with no family and suddenly life just threw him a massive goddamn curve ball in the form of a fucking family. A sister. He muttered some more under his breath in joual, mostly just a string of expletives.
It was super, super fucked up.
The alcohol was helping. A side effect of his mutant powers was he metabolized the things he consumed more quickly, including drugs and alcohol--they both affected him, he just needed larger doses, generally. He was definitely starting to feel it at this point; it was producing a pleasant numbness, starting in his extremities. His fingers tingled and he was finding it harder to hold his cigarette (his third, also, incidentally) steady.
Did he even have enough cash on him to pay for all this? Whatever, his boss could take it out of his pay. Which he would, especially since he was still pissed at him for not showing up a few weeks ago. He was sitting behind the bar, actually, not dressed for work since he wasn't technically on duty, but on a Sunday (technically Monday) not long before last call, the place was nearly dead anyway and the actual bartender was avoiding him because of how he'd snarled at him when he came in. When he'd finished off the bottle he reached under and got a new one from the back of the bottom shelf -- one of the unopened ones, so no one had had a chance to water it down yet. Hah. He poured himself another, then had to pause and steady himself against the counter when everything started to sway a little.
Well. Okay. So he was definitely drunk, then. The unthinkable happened: he actually laughed.