Post by Deleted on Feb 27, 2010 19:39:27 GMT -8
Lesu closed his eyes and clenched the edge of the railing tighter. Even then the world didn’t spot spinning, tilting dangerously one way as his stomach went the other. He whimpered and gave a hiccup, wrapping his arms around the railing in desperation now as he felt the contents of his stomach churning again. Tears of embarrassment stung his chins and he coughed softly. Then his stomach heaved.
Opening his eyes at exactly the wrong time, Lesu watched as it all tumbled into the water, some of it splashing on the edge of the wharf. His entire night flashed before his eyes in bits and pieces, solid reminders of the extreme amounts of liquid he had consumed. Even though he had been drinking heavily again, he well knew his limit, the wine never affecting him as much as it had tonight for nearly a Turn.
While this was not the first time he had been sick from drinking, this time it felt different. This time, this time… the world was heavier, the back of his head felt worse and he could barely stand up. Despite that all he could have sworn he had not even had enough for him to slur his words. Then he staggered out of the building and nearly fell over… Whatever the reason he was so sick, the son of the Lord Holder continued to cling to the railing of the wharf, alternatively whimpering, and drooling on himself as he struggled to stay conscious.
And to think, he thought he was going to be a dragonrider like Cl’fey and Miranda when he had run away from the Weyr. Every friend he thought he made took advantage of him or like M’kloin, gave him a lift that left him countless miles from home with no way of getting back because no one believed he was who he said he was! Few dragonriders ever came here and he had no idea where ‘here’ was save for some kind of busy port…
Opening his eyes at exactly the wrong time, Lesu watched as it all tumbled into the water, some of it splashing on the edge of the wharf. His entire night flashed before his eyes in bits and pieces, solid reminders of the extreme amounts of liquid he had consumed. Even though he had been drinking heavily again, he well knew his limit, the wine never affecting him as much as it had tonight for nearly a Turn.
While this was not the first time he had been sick from drinking, this time it felt different. This time, this time… the world was heavier, the back of his head felt worse and he could barely stand up. Despite that all he could have sworn he had not even had enough for him to slur his words. Then he staggered out of the building and nearly fell over… Whatever the reason he was so sick, the son of the Lord Holder continued to cling to the railing of the wharf, alternatively whimpering, and drooling on himself as he struggled to stay conscious.
And to think, he thought he was going to be a dragonrider like Cl’fey and Miranda when he had run away from the Weyr. Every friend he thought he made took advantage of him or like M’kloin, gave him a lift that left him countless miles from home with no way of getting back because no one believed he was who he said he was! Few dragonriders ever came here and he had no idea where ‘here’ was save for some kind of busy port…