A GOOD NIGHT [EMIL]

Booze lingered on the breath of Emil Heidrich. Intoxication came and went as the time passed and he continued to remerge himself with the haze of alcohol. It had been a long time since the male had indulged himself in any sort of substance that impacted one’s mental state, a little over eight hundred days to be exact. Recent events in his life had forced him to the brink however, and had dragged him back down to the slums. What other choice did he have? What did anyone else who really knew him expect? It was a miracle that he didn’t dabble into substances that were far heavier than that of measly liquor.

An orphaned Quincy who had just lost pride and power, what else was he to do in the lonely city of New York?

Crisp night air nipped at the blonde with each passing moment. Dressed in typical punkish attire that consisted of various greens, he walked down the sidewalk with a bottle in hand. Each step that was taken was evidence of how much the man had already drunken. It was a testament of his natural skills of balance that he was able to continue walking as his body seemed to be constantly tilted at an impossible angle. Oh what a lovely sight the Gemischt was. Street lights gleamed off of his many facial piercings and blinded his already obscure vision. Soon enough he found himself bumping into the back of someone.

Boom, a foreign force collided with Emil’s jaw and caused him to slump to the ground. The pain of the blow was negligible considering he had experienced worse and was currently suffering from the effects of a depressant, but it didn’t stop with one strike. As the body of the drunken fool lay on the concrete he could feel multiple strikes coming from a multitude of directions. He was so out of it that he couldn’t make out how many people there were or what it was that he had done that was so bad but he couldn’t find the strength to get back up; couldn’t find the desire to get back up. He wanted to lay there and take the beating. The sad truth was that his only desire was that the strikes hurt more so that they could draw him away from his own mental sorrow.

If he was able he would have went to Hueco Mundo or Soul Society and taken whatever beaten was cast upon him. The young Heidrich would have to settle for some random thungs on the streets of NY however.

CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE

Pain flared with each strike to the fallen body, and Emil reveled in it. It wasn’t so much that he found himself struggling with coherent thought or even contemplating suicide rather than insanity. No, the level of pain he was currently experiencing didn’t hold a candle to what he had felt that night on the streets outside of the Vatican. This pain was both tolerable and intolerable.

Scuffling feet sounded around him and suddenly his beloved pain left him. Why? Why did everything decide to leave Emil when he needed it the most? His parents had left him, his wife had left him, his friends had left him, and even his powers had left him. Now the pain had decided it would come to his rescue and leave him just as swiftly and easily as it had come. There was nothing in his life that he could keep around, nothing that he could hold onto and claim as his own and truthfully know that it would never leave him.

Groaning slightly, Emil reached out and grabbed at the ankle nearest to him. In his drunken stupor he didn’t register that it was the soft skin of a female nor did he much care that it was faced away from him. He squeezed onto the ankle rather harshly despite his current state of intoxication and spat out into the air, “That the best you got you little bitch!?”

Foolish, that was the best way to describe his little outburst but he cared not for he was not in his right mind. The Emil that people were used to would never call for violence. The Emil that people were used to however was a lie and he no longer cared to pretend, he would do as he pleased and at that moment it pleased him to feel pain. It pleased him to dig his nails into the ankle that was near him just as it caused him to chuckle as he drunkenly attempted to pull the person to the ground.

CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE

Hostility was thick in the air but the male known as Emil wouldn’t revel in violence. No, rather than answer to the call of the woman whom he had grabbed, he would empty the contents of his stomach and paint the ground and unruly violet color. Vile and disgusting, such was the act of a fool who had little control over themselves, which was a fairly accurate description of the foolish Quincy at that present moment. Had entities of his past been around to see him it was likely that he would have been on the receiving end of various lectures which would have merely led a downward spiral with alcohol.

Taking note of the condition Emil was in; the thugs that had previously beaten him decided that he was an unworthy target of aggression. The group would be allowed to leave and get away from the foulness that the blond had released upon the world. The female wouldn’t be so lucky however. Despite his intoxication the male still had a rather hardened grip around her ankle which left her with multiple options. The most entertaining of which would be for her to attempt to pull herself away. Doing so would lead to the dragging of the Gemisctht through his own bile.

“I khrcrhet…” Regardless of the action taken, nonsense would escape the male. As intoxication dragged him deeper and deeper into its depth, Emil would become more and more amerced in his own little fantasy world.

CODED BY ELECTRIC OF GANGNAM STYLE