The moment that the bottle left his lips, his mind was already going through withdraw, begging for another sip of that hard liquor. He simply could not consume it quick enough to cover the shame and regret that had enslaved him. Long ago he had lost something so precious to him; a male whom he once could call his best friend. Rumors had spread that he had been betrayed and maybe he even let it get to his head.
But Malcolm knew the truth, deep down inside his heart. That man, Tobias, would never have left him to rot. It was a mistake. Right? There was no way he could have-
Malcolm threw his head back as the bottle met with his lips once more and consumed another helping of alcohol. He was once again thinking too much; and irrationally.
He was lucky that the bar allowed him to stay when he got shit faced and it seemed tonight would be one of those nights. He ran out of hope, no will in finding that damned gambler. Last he heard, he was in this town, but he had no sign of the bastard.
A sigh left his lips, as he took note of the now empty bottle resting in his fingers. Damn it… IT had not been enough but he wad running low on coin. He could always barter and swindle, but he did not even have anything to offer.
At a loss, he rolled his head slowly, a minor headache beginning to pound within his skull. But that was when his blurred vision laid upon a painfully familiar black jacket. No way in hell. Was he that drunk? He had to laugh to himself, was he getting this bad?
“Now what? Seein’ visions of you, Tobias?” He slurred, blacking out for only a second before coming back to. He was not shit faced, but he was a few levels past tipsy.
He’d been enjoying one of his nightly walks. The cool, refreshing air that breezed passed him made it easier for Fate to clear his head. There had been so many things going on lately. The whole escapade with Miss Fortune trying to dethrone Gangplank and takes the reins for herself.
It had thrown him directly into the path of Malcolm, and even seeing his best friend pointing Destiny at his face, was quite hurtful. He knew he’d failed the gunslinger years ago, but to actually actively hunt him for it...
A loud sigh left his lips as he decided it was time for another of his poisons. The small tip of his cigarette grew bright as he took a long drag, his lighter once more in his pocket as he slowly exhaled the smoke. Maybe he’d deserved whatever punishment would come his way. Perhaps then their relationship could improve. Sure, back there on the water, (something Tobias didn’t really want to linger long on), he sort of forgave him. Yet, just a few simple words wouldn’t ever be enough to fix what had happened between them.
Finally seeing the stone walls of his destination coming into view, the card master threw the butt of his cigarette in front of him on the cobblestones in front of him only to be crushed by his boot soon after. The familiar wooden door he’d passed through several times by now was pushed open easily and his nostrils were immediately assaulted by the mixed aroma’s of, men sweat, smoke, alcohol and food. No place like home.
He nodded at the several patrons he recognized, moving to one of his favorite tables to earn money for the night when a familiar voice stopped him dead in his tracks. Was that?? He twirled around, his coat swishing around his legs as he stared at the shit-faced version of Graves. He huffed, cyan eyes taking in his old partner’s state before he slowly approached.
“Seems like you’ve started without me, Mal’.” He started with a tease, yet slight worry edged through his tone. The gunner looked worse for wear, only minutes away from passing out. “Just how much have you had?” Tobias stepped closer, his hand going to Graves’ shoulder to steady him.
@spiked-milk
