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Interactions:[@princess] Anastasia [@Helo] Callum

The night had carried on. Dancing, flirting, touching, whispering. All the things Munir enjoy doing on a regular basis. Oh and of course imbibing in the myriad of cocktails available to them. Sure, Munir was used to drinking but it was never with this sort of abandon. Many glasses of wine, champagne, and more wine were consumed. However, there was just one slightly green drink. Just one Noble's Venom.

At first, Munir felt overwhelmingly energized. Like he wanted and could run from where he was all the way back to Alidasht just to catch the sunrise. The sweetness of the drink seemed to fill him with vigor. With Callum and Anastasia, he ran, danced, joked around. It seemed like the party would never end.

But of course it does. And End it did.

First, Munir felt extremely fatigued. More than he has ever felt. He chalked it up to the day finally catching up with him. He was at the ball, then only had the briefest respite before he was roused and made his way to this party. All the drinking, and moving about, surely did not help. But this was a fatigue unlike any other. He looked around the party, and everything seemed to spin. Callum was nowhere to be found, neither was Anastasia for the moment. Just where was he, even? He breathed in deep and exhaled, trying his best to maintain his composure. He tried to seek out a glass of water in the hopes of washing away the nauseating taste in his mouth, but alas no luck. He walked on what he thought were steady steps but in reality was nothing more than quaking knees. His footsteps were so unsteady at this point and simply crashed against a wall and slumped down into a stool.

Then the nightmares really began. 

Munir could vaguely make out the shape of another person next to him but his mind was too clouded at this point to care. All he heard, and saw, were the pointed fingers and sharp tongues of the Alidashtian people.

[color=662d91][i]"Look at him? Such a lecherous little beast. Ungraceful, inelegant. Him? A future ruler? I'd rather be face-down in a ditch in the Street of Sisters than be ruled by him. Why can't he be more like his brother Amir? Regal, powerful, becoming. Instead, we're left with this heap of shit. This heap of wine-loving, woman-wasting, good-for-nothing shit. Good Gods where did the sultan go wrong? All his years of rule and just service and he gets this. So sad. He would never be good enough. All the women he has been with? Ha. He was never man enough to satisfy them. All the boasting he does is just to boost his ego. Is he even a man? He simply will never be good enough for anything. He is the epitome of disappointment. His father only tolerates him. He doesn't love him, so I've heard. He just isn't good enough."[/i][/color]

Fingers kept pointing, voices kept jeering...


[hider=TW. Vomit warning. In summary, Munir is in bad shape.]
Everything Munir had consumed welled back up. He dry-heaved a few times. He tried to forcibly choke down the feeling of vomit. But in the end, he was weak, just like they all said he was. He had enough wherewithal to turn away from the human figure next to him and expelled the contents of his stomach. An acrid mix of wine, ale, bits of food, stomach acid, bile and whatever remnants of the Noble's Venom all came rushing back out. The stream of that awful mixture was quite steady for a moment. It was as if his body rebelled and took control. It was not until his stomach had emptied itself of its contents did he stop.
[/hider]

Munir took a few deep breathes, and the aftertaste was not any better. He heaved slightly before slinking down for a moment. That moment was all he need to gather his mind enough to have all the things he saw and heard come back and hit him like a caravan of camels. It broke him. Through the exhaustion and tears, he simply leaned to his left and started sobbing...

The person, as Munir would discover, was Anastasia. Not that it mattered to him in this moment...