Action Spam - Hangovers aren't pretty.

[quiteknavish]

[Somehow, in a way he probably wouldn't be able to remember later, Puck had found himself at the end of the night curled up quite happily in some corner of the Barge, tucked up away. He'd tried to make himself as well-hidden as possible, but everyone (but him, apparently) knows how logic works when tipsy. So there he is, barefoot, and quite pleased

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[quiteknavish]

[It was like there was blazing light behind his eyes, Puck thought as he rolled onto his back, put his hands behind his head, and cracked one eye open. There was as much a glare in that action as he could manage to put in it with a second heartbeat in his head. The fact that he was mostly nocturnal wasn't helping the aching, and his Warden seemed incredibly perky for such a morning, which annoyed him all the more. Needless to say, Puck wasn't such a happy camper and Sexby wouldn't be getting much normality out of him if he could help it.]

Your exclamations are entirely unnecessary and far too loud, Colonel.

[quiteknavish]

Of course you did. [Puck moved a hand from behind his head to rub his forehead, taking a sip of water to try and remedy the fact that his tongue felt so dry he might have eaten sand. This. Was. Ridiculous. He wasn't sure where the next bit of talking came from, but didn't entirely care right then.] I think the Admiral revels inordinate amounts in giving me the body of a useless git.

[He pushed himself up a bit so his back was leveled against the corner, supporting him. He glared weakly once more, rubbing his eyes and letting his head fall back gently against the wall, his replies terse and quiet.]

I'll have you know just about all I did was move things from cabinets to cabinets. Aside from a few broken glasses from clumsiness. Whatever 'bloody mess' you refer to, if beyond this extent, is not of my doing.