Timed to Wednesday night

Date: 2017-06-05 01:02 am (UTC)
finlay_flynn: (inhale)
From: [personal profile] finlay_flynn
Pulsing- Pulsing light, pulsing sound, like being chained to the floor of London's shittiest night club with a bag over his head. Everything muffled and distorted from being too loud. That's all he remembered. He'd been walking home- No, running home, winding and dashing... Then he'd been somewhere else. Like a dream he couldn't wake up from.

...And then, just like that, he'd been back.

The alley reeked of booze and piss, and Fin's head was pounding as he slowly sat up. It was late and dark, but somehow everything felt too bright and loud. Ducking his head, he covered his ears with his hands and took slow breaths, only now realizing he was shirtless. What he couldn't see, however, was the large tattoo that now covered most of his back, a series of runes and symbols woven into pretty circles that spiralled outwards.

One more deep breath, and the world seemed to calm again, no longer an overstimulating mess of colour and noise. Like this he could focus, and Finlay pulled himself to his feet, patting himself down to find a broken phone, a crushed pack of cigarettes, and a very beaten up looking wallet.

Emerging from the alley, the actor forced himself to find that charming smile of his, and turned it on the first person to pass by.

"Sorry, mate, sorry, I know I look a mess, but- Well, my mates think they're hilarious..."

He wove a story about a drunk night out with the lads, and though the man had seemed startled at first, he was laughing by the end, accepting Fin's offer to buy his coat and offering a good prank for him to pull in return.

Covered enough to face the public, Finlay headed off to the nearest department store, smiling at the clerk and promising to let her get a selfie if she'd let him buy a new outfit and freshen up first. The young fae was oblivious to all the internet buzz currently going on, but it worked in his favour, and the young woman was more than willing to bend the rules for him if it meant getting a bit of attention for herself.

When he emerged from the shop he looked as if nothing had happened. A quick wash and new clothes, and Fin was as good as new- On the outside at least. Inside he was buzzing. A nervous wreck with a head that couldn't seem to stay on straight. A heavy fog hung over his brain, and while he knew he ought to head right home, he found himself walking towards the pub. A drink... A drink would fix this. Then maybe one more...

Four shots later and Fin was leaning hard against the bar, drunk and warm and- Confused. Like he was lost in his own head.
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