The news was disturbing. That much was evident, because nothing short of an extremely devastating catastrophe could drive Alexandria Marwolathe on the path to self-harm, especially after explicit instructions from the St. Mungo's Healers to avoid any strain on her mental health. Apparently, hangovers came under that category. "Announcing to your recovering daughter that I have found a 'match made in Heaven for you!' doesn't come in the bloody list." She muttered, slamming close the door behind her as she dropped onto a stool next to the bar, gesturing for a drink to be served to her. She didn't care that this was just her first week out of the hospital, even the constant vigil of the prison-in-another-name, a.k.a her room was better than the constant annoyances put up by her mother.
"I don't even know his name!" She muttered to herself, as she tried to remember anyone like him, but like always, her memory drew a complete blank. It was funny actually. How people never seemed to appreciate their simple ability to recall. To remember, to link, to be able to talk with a certain knowledge. She had lost that ability, she knew its value. "Wow. One drink and I am on my way to a PhD in Philosophy. Good going!" She muttered, rolling her eyes and ordering another shot.
She nodded to the only other person in the bar, probably because it was too early for drinking anyway. Slumping down on her seat, she ordered a vodka shot, before studying the menu carefully so she could decide her next drink
by Alexandria Marwolathe Sun Jul 21, 2013 7:31 pm