Post by Protégé on Jun 1, 2012 23:52:24 GMT -5
They say waking up with a hangover is hell.
Truth be told, waking up still drunk isn't much better.
Protégé was pretty certain that he had made it to his bed last night. Or at least he thought he had. Apparently, last night, that translated to "table". Rolling over to try and find a more comfortable spot, he was awakened by the sound of a glass bottle falling off the table and shattering on the ground. Curses, he thought, that's gonna be hell to clean up...
Reaching around the table blindly, his hand brushed across the surface. Beer....rum...bourbon...he couldn't remember what that bottle was, but hopefully there was something still in it. Finally, his grasping fingers found his wand. Pointing it down at the floor, he thought of the glass melding together into a solid sheet with a silvery base on the back. If he was lucky, it wouldn't be stuck to the floor.
Shifting onto a chair, he grabbed his makeshift mirror off the ground and looked in the surface. While marred and a bit wavy, the mirror couldn't hurt his appearance much. The green in his eyes was clear with his pupils constricted to points. His brownish hair was messy and unkempt, and stubble covered his face. His gray shirt and jeans were relatively clean, but that happens when you spend all your time horizontal.
Unfortunately, his table wasn't as pretty. While it had a dazzling collection of glassware, all of it was empty. This must be rectified! Slowly maneuvering up from the table, he braced himself while the world swirled around. He then shifted towards the door, lifted one foot....and fell headfirst through his door, crashing down the stairs onto the street.
Truth be told, waking up still drunk isn't much better.
Protégé was pretty certain that he had made it to his bed last night. Or at least he thought he had. Apparently, last night, that translated to "table". Rolling over to try and find a more comfortable spot, he was awakened by the sound of a glass bottle falling off the table and shattering on the ground. Curses, he thought, that's gonna be hell to clean up...
Reaching around the table blindly, his hand brushed across the surface. Beer....rum...bourbon...he couldn't remember what that bottle was, but hopefully there was something still in it. Finally, his grasping fingers found his wand. Pointing it down at the floor, he thought of the glass melding together into a solid sheet with a silvery base on the back. If he was lucky, it wouldn't be stuck to the floor.
Shifting onto a chair, he grabbed his makeshift mirror off the ground and looked in the surface. While marred and a bit wavy, the mirror couldn't hurt his appearance much. The green in his eyes was clear with his pupils constricted to points. His brownish hair was messy and unkempt, and stubble covered his face. His gray shirt and jeans were relatively clean, but that happens when you spend all your time horizontal.
Unfortunately, his table wasn't as pretty. While it had a dazzling collection of glassware, all of it was empty. This must be rectified! Slowly maneuvering up from the table, he braced himself while the world swirled around. He then shifted towards the door, lifted one foot....and fell headfirst through his door, crashing down the stairs onto the street.