(no subject)
Mar. 28th, 2018 09:06 pmIn another drink or two, he's going to get kicked out of this place.
He ought to care. He doesn't. All the bars in this fucking place are the same. They all amount to the same old shit and with his luck swirling further and further down the drain, what they amount to is a whole lot of bullshit. This place isn't making it so any of it gets any better. It's the same as it's always fucking been and the only thing he can do at the moment is drink. Maybe if he does enough of that, none of his shitty luck will matter so much.
Or maybe he'll just get alcohol poisoning and die. That'd be fucking convenient.
If it happens, though, that won't be the way he goes. His luck is getting increasingly dangerous for those around him, but for the most part, he's still immune. Bad things happen, but none of them are dangerous. None of them threaten his life. None of them hurt him. The jackass who'd taken a dart to his shoulder earlier can't say the same. Everyone'd called it an accident, a fluke throw that had somehow gone utterly wild, but Sweeney knows better.
Of course, the guy had been a prick, so he hadn't been too sad to see it happen either.
Another drink or two, though, and he'll get out of here, kicked out or not. Maybe he'll stumble around, see if Spike is willing to put up with him for a bit, but then he catches sight of a familiar face and he smirks, lifting his glass in greeting toward Gabriel.
He ought to care. He doesn't. All the bars in this fucking place are the same. They all amount to the same old shit and with his luck swirling further and further down the drain, what they amount to is a whole lot of bullshit. This place isn't making it so any of it gets any better. It's the same as it's always fucking been and the only thing he can do at the moment is drink. Maybe if he does enough of that, none of his shitty luck will matter so much.
Or maybe he'll just get alcohol poisoning and die. That'd be fucking convenient.
If it happens, though, that won't be the way he goes. His luck is getting increasingly dangerous for those around him, but for the most part, he's still immune. Bad things happen, but none of them are dangerous. None of them threaten his life. None of them hurt him. The jackass who'd taken a dart to his shoulder earlier can't say the same. Everyone'd called it an accident, a fluke throw that had somehow gone utterly wild, but Sweeney knows better.
Of course, the guy had been a prick, so he hadn't been too sad to see it happen either.
Another drink or two, though, and he'll get out of here, kicked out or not. Maybe he'll stumble around, see if Spike is willing to put up with him for a bit, but then he catches sight of a familiar face and he smirks, lifting his glass in greeting toward Gabriel.