- Messages
- 129
- OOC First Name
- Emzies
- Blood Status
- Mixed Blood
- Relationship Status
- Married
- Wand
- Knotted 15" Unyielding Elm Wand with Billywig Stinger Core
- Age
- 1/2015
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<FONT font="georgia">Felix Garcia had woken up and found himself lying on a beach in northern New Zealand, wondering just on earth his simple, small night out had led him to this place, this beach. A beach that was incredibly far from the country he called home and coincidentally the country this entire thing, whatever it was had started in. It had been a truly long time since Felix had drunk quite like he had over the past few days and nights. His memory consisted of small amounts of blurry images, loud noises and lots of alcohol. It had all started on the Friday after he'd finished up for the day and had found himself on week long leave. He didn't know what day it was now. It had started simple with him and a few of the guys in his platoon having a couple of beers on his friend's balcony in central Madrid. The next thing he remembered was leaving to meet up with some of his old school friends from his time at Beauxbatons at some magical bar in Madrid, and that was it, the rest of the night was a blur. The next thing Felix had been aware of was waking up on a beach, the beach he was still lying on and with the use of his apparently still working phone had located him in northern New Zealand. Felix had no memory of how or when he'd decided to go to New Zealand. The man found as he lay on the ground that he could barely move, everything felt like lead and he was unendingly pleased for the shade of the dark rain clouds limiting the brightness of what he assumed was morning.
Attempting to sit up had been proved difficult, that was why despite having been awake likely close to a half hour he hadn't yet moved at all. He was trying to figure out if he was still drunk, or if he was about to be really, really, just so incredibly hungover. The sort of hangover where he honestly felt like dying would be kinder. All in all, it really just left him feeling like if he tried to move too much too quickly he would just vomit all over the sand he was laying on. The familiar sea air smell filled his nostrils with every breath, he took a long deep breath focusing on the smell of the air as he attempted to get his bearings. How on gods good earth had he ended up here, just how? Having been in the Spanish army since the age of eighteen he had built a fairly high tolerance to alcohol and hadn't either blacked out or felt hungover in years, not since graduating from Beauxbatons. Being hungover didn't end well in the army, the six in the morning wake up calls did not agree with heavy drinking, and the higher ups didn't care if you were vomiting you had to continue. Felix had very quickly learned to moderate to not have to experience running a ten kilometre track in the hot Spanish sun with his pack full and on his back. He usually drank in moderation but apparently not during this weekend. Felix had just no clue what had happened at all over the last few days.
The sound of sharp yapping from what could only be a small dog forced Felix to really take notice of his surrounds. He sat up quickly, startled and immediately regretting doing that action as his stomach protested strongly. He groaned in pain loudly wrapping one arm around his stomach. It took all of his might to not vomit all over himself right at that precise moment. He looked for the origin of the sound and his eyes settled upon his side where the was a little dog looking straight at Felix. Felix glanced around the beach but couldn't see anyone else, the owner of the dog was clearly gone. He reached out, surprisingly sluggishly to him, his body appeared to not be responding well at all to what he was trying to tell it to do. He placed his hand on it and petted it, and the dog responded with a happy little bark, which Felix winced at just too loud a noise for his delicate brain right at that point. It was a really incredibly small dog. He had been about to shoo it away back to it's master but was interrupt as an onslaught of memories suddenly hit him. He came to the realisation because of the memories that there would no owner wondering around looking for this little dog because he was the dog's owner. He had at some point between Friday night and now bought or somehow got a dog. "What the hell happened to me" he muttered in Spanish in disbelief as he forced himself to sit up completely and then took the little dog in hands, holding it up to his face. It was a cute little dog, barely bigger than his hands. He couldn't believe what he appeared to have done. What on earth had happened, how on earth could he have been persuaded into getting a dog. The dog barked happily again and began to lick Felix's face, that obviously made Felix smile happily, his current state briefly forgotten.
Now that he was sitting up the man realised that he'd probably had crazy few days and so, forced himself to check he still had everything else, placing the dog down on his lap so that he could check himself over. He found his wallet thankfully, his phone that seemed undamaged though the case was a little sticky and upon closer inspection he realised it smelled like vaguely like cider. He did appear to be missing a jacket or jumper of some kind he couldn't remember if he'd started on Friday with one, he was sat on the sand in just a white t-shirt, faded blue jeans and his dog tags worn around his neck and under his t-shirt. He still had his shoes and socks though they were beside him rather than being worn that made sense seeing as he was sitting on a sandy beach. He leaned forward slightly with a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his head. Felix felt sickly, dizzy and his head was aching, he felt as though with each passing second he was getting worse. He would never ever again he drink that badly. His time in the army had largely removed most of his crazier antics but it appeared that for just one night he'd just let it all go. The man was incredibly pleased that he was on leave and did not have to worry about being back in training for another week. He was sure it would take him more than a few days to get over this absolutely killer hangover. The little dog in his hands appeared to be falling asleep as it was snuggling up. He decided that the little dog had the right idea, he just needed to lay down a little longer. So, slowly the man lay back down on the sand, placing the little what was clearly a puppy of some kind on his chest and just closing his eyes. Thinking that a little more sleep would go a long way.
Attempting to sit up had been proved difficult, that was why despite having been awake likely close to a half hour he hadn't yet moved at all. He was trying to figure out if he was still drunk, or if he was about to be really, really, just so incredibly hungover. The sort of hangover where he honestly felt like dying would be kinder. All in all, it really just left him feeling like if he tried to move too much too quickly he would just vomit all over the sand he was laying on. The familiar sea air smell filled his nostrils with every breath, he took a long deep breath focusing on the smell of the air as he attempted to get his bearings. How on gods good earth had he ended up here, just how? Having been in the Spanish army since the age of eighteen he had built a fairly high tolerance to alcohol and hadn't either blacked out or felt hungover in years, not since graduating from Beauxbatons. Being hungover didn't end well in the army, the six in the morning wake up calls did not agree with heavy drinking, and the higher ups didn't care if you were vomiting you had to continue. Felix had very quickly learned to moderate to not have to experience running a ten kilometre track in the hot Spanish sun with his pack full and on his back. He usually drank in moderation but apparently not during this weekend. Felix had just no clue what had happened at all over the last few days.
The sound of sharp yapping from what could only be a small dog forced Felix to really take notice of his surrounds. He sat up quickly, startled and immediately regretting doing that action as his stomach protested strongly. He groaned in pain loudly wrapping one arm around his stomach. It took all of his might to not vomit all over himself right at that precise moment. He looked for the origin of the sound and his eyes settled upon his side where the was a little dog looking straight at Felix. Felix glanced around the beach but couldn't see anyone else, the owner of the dog was clearly gone. He reached out, surprisingly sluggishly to him, his body appeared to not be responding well at all to what he was trying to tell it to do. He placed his hand on it and petted it, and the dog responded with a happy little bark, which Felix winced at just too loud a noise for his delicate brain right at that point. It was a really incredibly small dog. He had been about to shoo it away back to it's master but was interrupt as an onslaught of memories suddenly hit him. He came to the realisation because of the memories that there would no owner wondering around looking for this little dog because he was the dog's owner. He had at some point between Friday night and now bought or somehow got a dog. "What the hell happened to me" he muttered in Spanish in disbelief as he forced himself to sit up completely and then took the little dog in hands, holding it up to his face. It was a cute little dog, barely bigger than his hands. He couldn't believe what he appeared to have done. What on earth had happened, how on earth could he have been persuaded into getting a dog. The dog barked happily again and began to lick Felix's face, that obviously made Felix smile happily, his current state briefly forgotten.
Now that he was sitting up the man realised that he'd probably had crazy few days and so, forced himself to check he still had everything else, placing the dog down on his lap so that he could check himself over. He found his wallet thankfully, his phone that seemed undamaged though the case was a little sticky and upon closer inspection he realised it smelled like vaguely like cider. He did appear to be missing a jacket or jumper of some kind he couldn't remember if he'd started on Friday with one, he was sat on the sand in just a white t-shirt, faded blue jeans and his dog tags worn around his neck and under his t-shirt. He still had his shoes and socks though they were beside him rather than being worn that made sense seeing as he was sitting on a sandy beach. He leaned forward slightly with a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his head. Felix felt sickly, dizzy and his head was aching, he felt as though with each passing second he was getting worse. He would never ever again he drink that badly. His time in the army had largely removed most of his crazier antics but it appeared that for just one night he'd just let it all go. The man was incredibly pleased that he was on leave and did not have to worry about being back in training for another week. He was sure it would take him more than a few days to get over this absolutely killer hangover. The little dog in his hands appeared to be falling asleep as it was snuggling up. He decided that the little dog had the right idea, he just needed to lay down a little longer. So, slowly the man lay back down on the sand, placing the little what was clearly a puppy of some kind on his chest and just closing his eyes. Thinking that a little more sleep would go a long way.
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