10-02-2018, 04:41 PM
For a self-proclaimed optimist, Wendell was quite mad at himself. Alcohol had gotten the better of him again (and the wolverine had sworn that such a thing would never happen), and by the sounds of it, he had missed quite the show. NPC smalltalk he had eavesdropped on explained that Monroe was now Marina, and that’s because the leader had died and... damn, he was a horrible hearthkeeper. Perhaps the most he had for a job in that position was greeting newcomers, and the Brit failed even at that. These facts urged him to drink it all away; and that is where the conundrum transpires.
You have perhaps a hundred flagons of drink that you don’t want to abuse, yet you drink excessively when the slightest problems knocked on your door, yet causing you to drink more once you realize that hitting the bottle creates new issues - it was an endless loop of madness that desperately needed to meet its demise.
At least it was all done in the comfort of his home. He had hoped.
At the call of weekly tasks, he had practically leapt off his appendages to the crier. It was a chance, a chance to prove he wasn’t a downright flop. "Coulja spare me one, kiddo?" Wendell’d inquire, his question a tad skeptical as it came after everyone else’s.
You have perhaps a hundred flagons of drink that you don’t want to abuse, yet you drink excessively when the slightest problems knocked on your door, yet causing you to drink more once you realize that hitting the bottle creates new issues - it was an endless loop of madness that desperately needed to meet its demise.
At least it was all done in the comfort of his home. He had hoped.
At the call of weekly tasks, he had practically leapt off his appendages to the crier. It was a chance, a chance to prove he wasn’t a downright flop. "Coulja spare me one, kiddo?" Wendell’d inquire, his question a tad skeptical as it came after everyone else’s.