[@Eviledd1984][@Kidd]

[h2][i][color=olivedrab]Brian McConaughan[/color][/i][/h2][hr]
McConaughan grunted while he held the end of a yellowing bandage between his teeth and worked on wrapping the other end as tightly as he could against his wounds. Every time he rounded his hand to add another layer of cloth, it squeezed his palm tighter, causing pain, but ultimately halting the bleeding. By the time he was done, his right hand looked like it was wearing a beige oven mitt that was rapidly turning red. With his only good hand left, McConaughan turned on the faucet and splashed some cool water on his face to get rid of the sweat that had built up. He looked up at his own sordid expression in the dirty bathroom mirror and tried hard to focus on his own eyes. For some reason, he couldn’t even find them. All he could see were the eyes of his father.

He stumbled forward out of the bathroom, swinging the wooden door open and stopped in his tracks when it slammed shut behind him. There were two men that looked of Asian descent staring at him across the way.

[color=olivedrab]“Oi, what’re you all lookin’ at?”[/color] His normal Northern Irish lilt was tainted by the drunken numbness of his mouth. [color=olivedrab]“Never seen a fuckin’ drunk before, eh?”[/color] he mumbled, taking his original seat again. The counter was clean from the mess he’d made. McConaughan looked up at the bartender, a beautiful young woman with dark hair, and said, [color=olivedrab]“Thank you, miss. You didn’t have to clean up my mess for me. Get those two guys over there some whiskey on me.”[/color] He motioned to the man with the pompadour and his younger companion.