Artemis was lounging on a bench table, one foot crossed over the other. Hand dangling over his face, an empty pitcher on the table. His body surprisingly comfortable against the hard wood. He probably shouldn't be lying on the table, but he couldn't give a crap at the moment. No one seemed that bothered here either, at least not at the moment. They were pretty used to his antics by now. Most who saw him recognised what was happening.
Unfortunately at that moment in time he was in the process of nursing a hangover. A pretty bad one. All the while attempting to drown it with hair of the dog. It wasn't working yet. Man, I went hard last night, He thought bitterly. He had remembered much. Chatting up pretty girls, some rowdy behaviour, was there a fight? He wasn't sure.
He lifted his hand and opened his eyes to check out his knuckles. There was some scratches, but nothing that indicated he had punched anyway. He could just swatted a thorn bush or something. Who knew, who cared. Whatever it was, one thing was sure. He had enjoyed himself, his lips twitched into a small smile when he thought about it. Definitely worth the headache. He dropped his hand back onto his forehead, covering his eyes once more
"Yo, can I get another bevvie?!" He called out, reached into his pocket with his other hand and slammig some money on the table. He wasn't sure if he wanted to get drunk again, but he knew one thing. One way or another he was gonna get rid of this hangover, and if that didn't happen. Well then he'd just be screwed, he'd had to go home and sleep it off. That was the boring option, Art was seeking something much more fun. At least he wasn't likely to hear anything to Morte, he was always very quiet during him hangovers. It was a bittersweet peace.