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Post by Deleted on Jul 19, 2014 6:28:15 GMT
Duncan Payne had just received an invitation to a wedding in Ireland that involved a masquerade and a tournament to follow in celebration. He wasn't much of one for tournaments, but he knew that they would probably expect someone of importance from his kingdom to participate. Good thing he had just the person in mind. And he was on his way to find that particular person. "You. Have you seen Prince Tadgh," he barked at a servant. "He's still in his chambers, majesty," the woman said, dipping a low curtsy. He ignored the woman, something he wouldn't have normally done, in favor of moving towards his "son's" chambers. When he arrived he threw the door open with barely a pause and it crashed against the inner wall. He spotted Tadgh laying on the bed and strode across the room to yank the pillow from underneath the boy's head before throwing it at him with enough force to cause Tadgh to jump. "Up. Get your lazy, worthless ass out of bed, boy," he barked. "We've received an invitation to a royal wedding and tournament in Ireland. You will be participating in the tournament. Oh, and there's a masquerade after the wedding ceremony and before the tournament. Do try to make sure you don't embarrass me," he growled before he stalked out of the room. Yes. He was that kind of asshole. |
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Post by Deleted on Jul 19, 2014 6:37:09 GMT
Tadgh had been passed out, in a drug induced stupor when his father had crashed into his chamber and yanked the pillow from underneath his head. If not for the fact that he was still feeling the high of the herbs that he'd taken earlier that morning, he probably would have leaped off the bed and gone after his father. As it was he honestly didn't give two shits about...well..anything at the moment. The herbs were the only thing that helped him sleep, and he'd been up until a few hours ago when he'd finally caved and not only mixed them in a wine skin, but also "smoked" some of them. He'd been hell bent on sleep. For that matter, he'd kind of been hoping to over dose. Obviously the over dose idea hadn't panned out. He grumbled when his father hit him with the pillow, but really didn't feel it. A sigh drifted from his lips when Duncan said something about a masquerade and not embarrassing him. "Yes, father," he'd mumbled. "Always the fucking embarrassment to you," he'd growled when the man had finally left the room. He rolled over onto his back and starred up at the ceiling, still too high to really do much of anything. His thought process was in some ways too sedated, in some ways not enough. He growled at the memories from his past that flooded him every waking hour. He rolled out of bed and stumbled to the table across the room, where the wine skin that had some of the herbs mixed in with it still lay, half full. He picked up the wine skin and drained it before he made his way back to his bed. Maybe he could sleep for however long until the fucking wedding. Yeah. Right. |
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