You Spin My Head Right Round

[Toussaint Favreau]

Word count: 228 | Outfit: Here | Tag: @'Open!' '

Toussaint was starting his 23rd year of life as jenny had spent the start of 2016 he meant to go on.

Hungover as fuck.

He had next to no recollection of what had gone on the night before, nor what time he had gotten in, but his valet had found him asleep just outside a tub of water that had long since turned cold that morning, which he had promptly been thrown in, and given some breakfast before he could protest. Toussaint had made it through the process of flooing without giving into the urge to throw up, and had managed to stumble through the atrium looking only a little worn-out. The motion of the lift, however, rendered the wizard a distinct shade of green that might have been considered a rather refreshing colour for a garden room, but which had no place on a human’s face.

Toussaint slammed his hand into a button and pretty much raced out of the doors, not noting or even caring which floor he was on. He made it around a couple of corners- or that might have just been the world spinning, why was it spinning, he hadn’t signed up for spinning- before he fell to his knees in front of a potted plant decorating what he sincerely hoped was a deserted hallway and began emptying his stomach of his breakfast.

The following 1 user Likes Toussaint Favreau's post:1 user Likes Toussaint Favreau's post
   Barnabas Skeeter

[Zian Zhao]

Zian had been on his way from delivering a report to another office when he spotted a sickly looking young man veering into the corridor. He hung back for a bit watching, unsure if he should offer his assistance or let the other man be. The question was answered for him in short order. Zian grimaced as he watched the other man vomit into an unfortunately placed potted plant. After a few moments Zian averted his eyes out of respect, hopefully allowing the man to preserve some semblance of dignity. 

"Is there anything I can do for you?" He called down the hall. "Supply you with some water perhaps ...?" 

@'Toussaint Favreau'

  

[Benedict Sterling]

Hope it's ok if I join! <3

After numerous hours of bad paperwork, it was hard not to stop bouncing his knee up and down, so he decided to lock up his office and take a stroll around the Ministry. After a while, Ben found himself observing a young man, whom he thought he recognized, dumping the contents of what he supposed was last night's dinner into an obliging plant. Though rather unsightly, Benedict couldn't blame the man for doing what he'd been guilty of plenty of times before (though perhaps not as often as work, and less discreet) The head auror gave a grimace as he approached, recognizing another man also privy to the unpleasant sight the younger man gave. Zhao was kinder than Ben felt, so he was content to chuckle slightly. It wasn't exactly professional, but he'd been in the younger man's position before too, so he couldn't really blame him or laugh at him in a degrading way. "Perhaps something stronger," he murmured to the man next to him.

  

[Toussaint Favreau]

Word count: 111 | Outfit: Here | Tag: @'Open!' '

He managed to stop his vomiting for long enough to glance up at who was witnessing this debacle- the head auror who had curls to rival Parkinson’s (was there an office somewhere in charge of imbuing important ministry officials with curls to keep the female population in line? He’d really have to investigate if so) and some man who must have been from one of the colonies or somewhere in the great expanse of the globe that was coloured in pink.

Toussaint opened his mouth to speak, and only just diverted it back to the pot in time. “Water.” He managed to gasp eventually, eyes running and feeling quite ill indeed.