Mordecai was hungover, again. Surprise, surprise. In fact, not only was he hungover, but he was right back at the bar in his typical seat as far away as possible from any other patrons. The last time he met someone here, it wasn't so bad. They talked, aired grievances a little bit, drank way too much... but he felt like perhaps he had made an acquaintance he would not mind visiting with again. The demon lifted a hand and rubbed his face, claws dragging down his cheek. It was so hard to remember things lately, everything blurring together in a haze of booze and next-day nausea. What was her name? He wracked his brain and fought back a wave of nausea, dipping his head forward to lie it down on his arms that were now folded on the table in front of him. The sudden urge to vomit brought forth a very distinct memory. Seussi; her name was Seussi. And she wasn't terrible. Not intolerable but very wasteful the other night. At the very end of the night, anyway. The demon could admit to himself that the next few following nights spent at the bar were a bit lonelier without her incessant prattling beside him. Ugh, had he made a
friend? Maybe that was not so bad, in light of how his life was in absolute shambles at the moment. He had never been one to rely too heavily on others, but he
was someone that others could find to be reliable; dependable, loyal, and ever snarky. In fact he was currently waiting for the one who relied on him the most to show up and cheer him up but Sid was fashionably late, as usual, by... about four hours now. That probably meant she was not going to turn up after all. He couldn't really blame her, she was grown and had her own life to live and she had put it off for long enough. A sigh escaped him while depression settled in around him. He had considered reaching out to his mother but had not done so yet. It was difficult, the idea of going to her and filling her in on all the awful little details of his life in it's current state. Maura was a good mother but she was not kind or forgiving, it were possible that she would make it her personal mission to track down and shred his former lover to pieces... and he still wasn't sure if he wanted that to happen, or if he just wanted to be the one to do it himself.
With the wave of nausea passing, Mordecai lifted his head if only so that he could let it lazily roll backwards, closing his lightly glowing purple hues. Even the dim light of this place was too aggravating for him right now, nearly calling on a migrain instantly. Then he heard it, the loud rumble of his stomach. He quickly changed his mind on the idea of a drink. His motto had become 'more of the dog that bit you' as the day-after disgust but he decidedly did not want this to become habitual; he saw many of the same faces here nightly and they looked rougher than he did. The demon waved a hand dismissively to the bartender and stood, shambling his way outside the establishment. He had not yet decided what to do or where to go. Grab some grub and then hit the hot springs for a relaxing soak, maybe. Taking a few steps farther away from the building to stay out of the way of those wandering in and out, he tucked his head down and placed a cigarette between his lips, fishing out his matches and striking it. Glowing orbs watched the little flame as it touched to the end of the cigarette and dragging inward as it lit. His shoulders rolled backwards and the demon rolled his head from one side to the other to help loosen his tense muscles, or attempt to, while letting out that first plume of smoke from his lungs. Even through the pungent smell of burning tobacco, there was a distant scent that tickled his nose. From what, or who, he couldn't be certain but he did settle his intense stare into the crowd.
