to hell with it || Markus & James
James scanned the crowd, wondering--not for the first time since the storm started--why he was even here. Why he hadn't just stayed home and let fate take him where it may. Maybe because there was a damn stubborn part of him that was going to cling to life, no matter how crappy it got. Just because he refused to lie down and lose completely. He didn't know, and nor did he really care about the big philosophical question behind it. All he knew was that he was here--and they wanted him to help? Who in the hell were they kidding?! Couldn't they see he was busy drinking?!
Of course, the flask was almost empty, and when that moment came, James didn't know what he was going to do. All he knew was that he was going to savor these last few sips of the burning rum inside that flask. Not search out this Markus character--a guy he only knew by reputation, really--and wander around looking for some crap.
The others can do it themselves, he thought, taking another swig as he leant back against the wall, letting his eyes fall closed for a brief moment as he savored it.