@kindkatze
Foster huddled over his notebook, giggling quietly. He hadn’t been trying to attract attention, but it was hard not to be stared at when one sat alone at the back of the pub chortling and scribbling wildly.
He had entered by himself, sober, and immediately tried to sweet-talk a free drink out of the bartender; a gruff, bearded man who had grumpily informed him he wasn’t interested by threatening to have him removed. It hadn’t even been flirting, Foster would have argued. Just compliments. And winking.
Regardless, it had put him in a bad mood. With his ego bruised, he paid full price, then proceeded to order more and more, his notes turning less coherent with every refill, and now he was just doodling.
And laughing. He couldn’t even tell why, anymore, really. But something was so damn funny. He flagged down the waitress for another drink, but had only been met with a pitying, but not unkind look and the information that he had “probably had enough”.
He remembered arguing, saying he wasn’t hurting anybody. He remembered the waitress saying more plainly that he was being cut off. He remembered being told to go home, though he couldn’t recall by who anymore. It had all been a blur, and he didn’t fully understand how, but now he was outside.
The chilly evening air sobered him some. Not enough to agree that he didn’t need another drink, though, until he had stumbled up the street a ways, and had to stop and lean against a wall to quell his quickly rising nausea.
He had been expecting his natural ability to sense the North and South poles would guide him back in the direction of The Deceit. He knew roughly where the pub was in town. Or he…had known roughly where the pub was in town. And what he hadn’t been expecting was the dizziness.
Clumsily, he retrieved and proceeded to thumb through his notebook. A knot of worry began to form as he flipped past page after page of increasingly incoherent scribbles. He found his map of the town, but it was mostly composed of arrows, notes, and runes he was too drunk to read.
“….Um…” He mumbled, skimming the last few pages before lowering the book and glancing around. North was….left? no, right, or….maybe behind him? Its magnetic pull seemed to be almost spinning.
“…Ohh...sshhhit.…” He slurred, one hand rising to his mouth.
