doubleohblonde: (Bond is a sad panda)
Bond had started drinking yesterday afternoon, and despite pacing himself, hadn't really stopped since. He had, however, run out of his ready supply of alcohol in his room and since he had absolutely no desire to be there without the anaesthetic effects of 100 proof, he'd made his way to his office to raid his emergency stash.

If anyone asked, he'd claim he was preparing for class on Wednesday.

[door is closed, post is open]
doubleohblonde: (Bond wants you to come back to bed)
After yesterday's binge-induced hangover, the likes of which he never wanted to experience again yesterday, it was almost a relief when Bond woke up beset by cramps. Almost.

Pulling on a set of track pants, and frowning, Bond made his way into the kitchen and reached for the coffee, only to change his mind halfway and go for hot chocolate instead. The good hot chocolate. The hot chocolate that was actually made from proper chocolate. Swiss chocolate. Not that powdered substance claiming to be chocolate.

His proper, Swiss hot chocolate made, he padded out into the living room and curled up on the couch. Maybe Eastenders Westsiders was on.

[ooc: open to the housemates!]

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James Bond

January 2016

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