bottoms up *matt

[Shendeth Potter]

hello mr. fortunate, it seems you've got it all; you've got the best disguise the world has ever known

[/size]
drink up, your nightmares [/i][/size][/b]
and let the liquor drown out your shame ![/center]

Much more often than not, Shendeth could, in the evenings, be found with a bottle of vodka in one hand. This particular day -the date of which he did not care to know- was no exception. It was a shameless pleasure that kept him going. Going where, only time would tell.

He stared at the newly ordered drink for a second before taking a swallow, used to the burn of hard liquor. Around him, glasses clinked and the voices of fellow customers disturbed the air, but sitting where he was at the shadowy back table of the Muggle bar, he paid them no mind. He was good and alone. Sometimes he went out drinking with the Death Eaters at wizard bars like the Hog's Head, but he wanted to get away from them and all of that for once. As someone who had always appreciated alone time in the first place, he would go insane if he didn't. Well, figuratively at least, because sanity was a moot point for him.

He had shed his Death Eater robes in favor of his old Muggle clothes, including a double layer shirt with long sleeves to hide the Mark. It couldn't quite be said that he blended in, but at least escaped notice. It was an odd thing, look around at people who knew nothing of it, who occupied the same room but were worlds away. Shendeth took another swig of vodka.

Not being a regular patron, he wasn't aware of how busy this place could get, but the bar and tables all seemed to be filling up. Not that he cared; he didn't want to be too alone. He turned his attention to his own thoughts and the drink that would soon start to take its welcome effects.

Part of his reason for going to a Muggle bar, besides the ease of getting away without paying (he didn't have a job anymore and wouldn't be bothered to spend money even if he had any) was the guarantee of not being seen by any wizards. So he wasn't expecting anyone to sit across from him, much less a familiar face.

TAG; MATTHEW ADAMS-GRANT WORDS; 406 OUTFIT; CLICK

[Matthew Adams-Grant]

[beige]hey mr.bartender, please don't be so

[/font][/beige] [black]slow[/black]
[beige]i've got time for one more round and a six pack to[/font][/beige] [black]go[/black][/right]

by the time the muggle men had left their jobs and wives in favor of overloading their tabs, the bar was already full. one seat, in fact, had been occupied since the doors had yawned open that morning. figuring he would not be missed at school and that those magical creatures could care for themselves, matthew had opted out in favor of spending some bonding time with his favorite wingman- beer. if not for the lightness of his pockets, he would've been 5 bottles down by now, but he was pacing himself, weary of falling short. he was fairly certain he already owed the barkeep a good amount of euros (he really had no idea how muggles counted money in england) and had probably bargained off all vegas' cat food at some point. why any bearded muggle would want cat food was beyond him. as far as he was concerned, muggles tended to be jackasses around animals- particularly felines, skittish and untrusting by nature.

nonetheless, his shortage of change did not stop him from licking the bitter juice on his lips and then taking another swig. it was a satisfying burn, and had been in his company all through-out the day. at least, he'd sauntered in as soon as he remembered what particular class he had next. admittedly, it was frustrating having to walk around. if the bar in question was hogsmeade, he could've aparated and been spared the long walk. he could only send himself so far in the muggle world before using his handy dandy magic became illegal.

as matt sat there fermenting in his buzzing conscience, someone spoke to him and all he could do was nod in vague agreement, really not sure what they'd said. when he turned to ask them to repeat it, there was no one there but a brief break in the flow of muggles that left an opening across the tavern floor to a shady little table in the back. narrowing his eyes, he stared for a moment, wondered if he was perhaps already drunk and hallucinating, and then proceeded to take another gulp before raising his bottle in the air in a salute to the shadowy figure.

if it had been a girl sitting alone, he might've gone over right away. he might be a christian but that didn't necessarily make him a saint. what did convince him into doing more than just symbolically tipping his hat to the fellow drinker was when he brought the bottle back to his mouth to finish it. just as the alcohol left the glass, the ceiling lights caught and the sketchy stranger's face reflected through the murky brown- he wouldn't have thought anything of it if he didn't find himself recognizing the not-so-unfamiliar person.

it was strange for matt to see another wizard there. he tended to hang out with the gryffindors and fellow housemates, though occasionally he went to the ravenclaws for a hand-out; they were the real sharp ones and could find you rum under a rock. however, as far as he could recall, slytherin, well, they had never really been on his list of favorite places to get wasted. that didn't mean he didn't know some of them. in this particular case, he recognized the face but couldn't quite place the name, certain he'd seen the other man before in perhaps an old potions class. in his fogging, 4-drinks-down-and-many-more-to-go mind, the most he could do was know that he should know this person. and if he wasn't cocky sober, he undeniably was now.

with great gusto, he pushed himself off his stool, getting up a little too quickly in his eagerness to socialize. it was rare that he saw someone he knew in the muggle world. at least, someone who knew just as much as he did. as his shoes met the floor, he swayed, grabbing onto a nearby muggle's head for support before patting it gratefully and moving on once he'd stabilized himself. the world was warm and bright, and without realizing it he'd begun to smile as he approached Shendeth.
"Hey-oh! And here I was, thinking I was the only bastard lucky enough to find this place." He said a little too loudly, dropping himself heavily into the chair across from the seventh year without so much as a may I.

[beige]tomorrow morning is sunday, im gonna be feeling[/beige] [black]low[/black]

[/font]
[beige]so please, mr.bartender, i want a six pack to[/beige][/font] [black]go[/black][/font][/left]

[Shendeth Potter]

hello mr. fortunate, it seems you've got it all; you've got the best disguise the world has ever known

[/size]
drink up, your nightmares [/i][/size][/b]
and let the liquor drown out your shame ![/center]

"Hey-oh! And here I was, thinking I was the only bastard lucky enough to find this place." Quite suddenly, where previously there had been empty space, some dude was sitting in the place opposite Shendeth. He looked up, surprised at the friendly greeting, sure that the guy had the wrong person, but about to ask 'who the hell are you' anyway- he had the experience to know not to trust strangers in bars. But then the light shifted, things clicked, and he placed the face as somebody he'd seen at Hogwarts.

That still didn't entirely explain his presence. As far as Shendeth could recall, they were in the same year, but belonged to different social circles and had hardly ever talked before- so why now, of all times? Shendeth didn't even go to Hogwarts anymore. Maybe he was bored, and lonely enough that any familiar face would be welcome. Shen was just not a naturally friendly person, so he didn't get it, but whatever.

Matt clearly didn't know anything. Maybe it was the drink getting to him that led him to forget most of his usual unfriendly demeanor. Talking to this guy looked better than the alternative, and they didn't know each other well enough for any harm to come of it. Of course, Shendeth wasn't completely sober enough to actually think all this, but it was the situation- fuck it, why not? He simply raised any eyebrow a little, not smiling back but not looking too unwelcoming, either. "I don't come here much." he took another swig of vodka. "What's up, anyway?"

TAG; MATTHEW ADAMS-GRANT WORDS; 320 OUTFIT; CLICK

[Matthew Adams-Grant]

[beige]hey mr.bartender, please don't be so

[/font][/beige] [black]slow[/black]
[beige]i've got time for one more round and a six pack to[/font][/beige] [black]go[/black][/right]

If Matt hadn't been tipsy and had bothered thinking it through, he might've taken the time to realize how awkward a situation he'd gotten himself into. He would've seen that being approached by a stranger in the back of a bar was a little less than comfortable, and would have supposed he should rewind back to the moment when he'd first mulled over going over. However, Matt was very much unaware of this 'what if' scenario. The warm buzz made everything else happy. He was anything but uncomfortable, and as far from seeing reason as he was from being sober.

"Aw, but here's where it's done best. You can't get any privacy at the Hog's Head. Everyone knows your business back there." Eyeing his new companion's drink greedily, he flagged down a waitress before returning his attention to the familiar face. It was true. If Matt had known any better, he would've left Shendeth alone and not stuck his nose where it was not wanted. Strangely, even though he didn't know any better, he had not yet received any 'get the Hell out of my face before I rearrange yours' signs. So far, so good.

"I'm Matt, by the way," he stated matter of factly, attempting a friendly smile despite not being able to focus on Shendeth's own expression. "And you go to Hogwarts, don't you?"

Now that he thought about it, as a generous glass of something that smelled of hard liquor and happy endings was placed in front of him, he had seen the black-haired man several times before, not even as sparingly as he'd first thought. Strange, how the other seemed to not recognize him at all. Or, if he was, he was a master at disguising it. Matt himself had never been one for tact. Always too straight-forward, never too careful. Perhaps he would've been if he knew Shendeth was a Deatheater. Then again, it happened to be a day when good sense failed Matthew, and what he would and should have done fell short of what he could do.

[beige]tomorrow morning is sunday, im gonna be feeling[/beige] [black]low[/black]

[/font]
[beige]so please, mr.bartender, i want a six pack to[/beige][/font] [black]go[/black][/font][/left]

[Shendeth Potter]

hello mr. fortunate, it seems you've got it all; you've got the best disguise the world has ever known

[/size]
drink up, your nightmares [/i][/size][/b]
and let the liquor drown out your shame ![/center]

He carefully watched Matt settle in without giving much sign of a reaction. "Yeah well, there doesn't seem to be much privacy here either." he retorted dryly. Shen never went to the Hog's Head by himself, only with.. friends. Muggle places were easier to get away from without paying (hey, he was flat out broke, so he couldn't have paid for his addiction even if he wanted to). At least, they were easier to steal from without causing a scene; march in like you own the place, shove your dark mark under a wizard bartender's nose and threaten to kill all the customers, and he'd usually just give you what he wanted. But unlike this guy, Shendeth was a melancholy drunk and did not want to be noticed during those times.

Speaking of drunk, while he carried with him a faint smell of vodka wherever he went, Shen wasn't giving any outward appearance of being drunk yet. Considering the amount he took in he could hold his liquor well.. or maybe his addiction had gotten so bad that he didn't even notice it any more. After all, he must be at least a little intoxicated, or he would have known Matt's name right away. It didn't do to forget anything about anyone in the real world, where everyone could be out to kill you. The Death Eaters, especially, were so secretive with their masks and cloaks, that he had to remember them just by voice, or walk, or particular habits, and a mistake could be fatal. They weren't picky as to who they hurt. Matthew Adams-Grant? The name was spoken by Professor McGonagall's voice in his head, taking attendance in their class together last year. He'd never paid attention enough back then to match all the names to faces, but it fit. "Right. I'm Shendeth, and I went to Hogwarts."

He wouldn't have noticed, especially while drunk, if a classmate he never talked to disappeared for a bit either. But the question sounded odd anyway. With everything that had happened to him since, Hogwarts seemed a thousand lifetimes away. He didn't hesitate in correcting Matt, and trying to sound proud of his choice, but the correction sounded strange as he spoke it. He glanced down at his drink for a split second. Now was the moment when he would have said some nasty things about Hogwarts, but the problem was that he actually didn't have any nasty things to say. Nothing Matt would understand anyway.

TAG; MATTHEW ADAMS-GRANT WORDS; 470 OUTFIT; CLICK