Preston Paine
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 590
- Wand
- Curved 9 1/2 Inch Flexible Chestnut Wand with Mermaid Scale Core
- Age
- 2/2020
An annoying mist was falling and had been for most of the day. The man entered the tiny hole in a wall of a bar and brushed his hair, water droplets falling to his shoulders and the ground. Not that he noticed. The muggle born guy simply kept walking, heading straight for the bar . He was a man on a mission. Preston badly needed a drink. I'd been a rough day for him. His boss had yelled at him for forgetting to feed one of the creatures, and he'd gotten into an argument with one of his co-workers before that even. With his shift finally over, Preston was in no rush to head home. He didn't know if another argument awaited him there, and he really wasn't in the mood. Even the animals had been difficult today, restless with him as if they sensed his mood. They probably had. It hadn't improved his mood though that they hadn't wanted to be near him. By the end of the day, he'd barely wanted to be around himself.
Sitting right at the bar, in a far corner that was half in shadow, Preston called out, his voice deeper even than it'd been during his seventh year. "Give me some kind of cider. Make sure it's got alcohol in it. A lot" he uttered before rubbing his face with his hands. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his hands to the bar where he played with the sickles and knuts he'd need to pay. The man was brooding, and he knew it too. He figured he'd get himself super drunk and then go home and call Paige over, if she wasn't mad at him too. She was usually good at improving his mood and Preston was in desperate need of that. He hoped that she'd come through for him. The guy hadn't even bothered to look around when he'd walked in, so he did while he waited. Most of the other patrons looked like him, men who looked like they'd had bad days. Preston caught the drink that slid towards him and nodded his head in thanks. The first sip warmed him.
Sitting right at the bar, in a far corner that was half in shadow, Preston called out, his voice deeper even than it'd been during his seventh year. "Give me some kind of cider. Make sure it's got alcohol in it. A lot" he uttered before rubbing his face with his hands. With a heavy sigh, he dropped his hands to the bar where he played with the sickles and knuts he'd need to pay. The man was brooding, and he knew it too. He figured he'd get himself super drunk and then go home and call Paige over, if she wasn't mad at him too. She was usually good at improving his mood and Preston was in desperate need of that. He hoped that she'd come through for him. The guy hadn't even bothered to look around when he'd walked in, so he did while he waited. Most of the other patrons looked like him, men who looked like they'd had bad days. Preston caught the drink that slid towards him and nodded his head in thanks. The first sip warmed him.