Willulf Montari
Herumtreiber
Coruscant
Willulf walked slowly towards a night club's entrance, with disgust finding it's place on his face. This feeling most likely stemmed from him remembering past experiences in these kinds of places. None of it really mattered though, a few drinks and he'd more or less have other things on his mind. Drinking put him in a state of insecurity so he felt uncomfortable doing it often, but he did sometimes. Times like now when he had nothing else to do.
Well, he did have something to do. He shook off the feeling and recalled what he originally came here for. Yes, it was for some kind of self-reflection. Willulf kept a journal in his satchel to write about his adventures as a normal man. It reminded him that he could be normal. Writing at a night club wasn't necessary but he believed drinking made it easier to let go of his emotions. They wouldn't show on his face and they had to be expressed in some way for him to hold up. Even Willulf couldn't bottle up all of his feelings.
He turned to the right once he made it inside and neared a few empty booths. For a moment, he glanced over at the various dancers. His interest wasn't there, as seen by him quickly looking away. Choosing suitable seat was now his focus. A circular booth wasn't occupied by anyone so he decided to claim it, sliding into the booth and stopping directly in the middle. Willulf let his satchel rest on the seat beside him and he slowly pulled out a pen and his journal. After ordering a glass of whiskey he'd begin writing.
[member="Val Aranda"]
Willulf walked slowly towards a night club's entrance, with disgust finding it's place on his face. This feeling most likely stemmed from him remembering past experiences in these kinds of places. None of it really mattered though, a few drinks and he'd more or less have other things on his mind. Drinking put him in a state of insecurity so he felt uncomfortable doing it often, but he did sometimes. Times like now when he had nothing else to do.
Well, he did have something to do. He shook off the feeling and recalled what he originally came here for. Yes, it was for some kind of self-reflection. Willulf kept a journal in his satchel to write about his adventures as a normal man. It reminded him that he could be normal. Writing at a night club wasn't necessary but he believed drinking made it easier to let go of his emotions. They wouldn't show on his face and they had to be expressed in some way for him to hold up. Even Willulf couldn't bottle up all of his feelings.
He turned to the right once he made it inside and neared a few empty booths. For a moment, he glanced over at the various dancers. His interest wasn't there, as seen by him quickly looking away. Choosing suitable seat was now his focus. A circular booth wasn't occupied by anyone so he decided to claim it, sliding into the booth and stopping directly in the middle. Willulf let his satchel rest on the seat beside him and he slowly pulled out a pen and his journal. After ordering a glass of whiskey he'd begin writing.
[member="Val Aranda"]