Roger – { 🍺 Town Drunk }

<p style="text-align: center"><strong><span style="color: rgb(93, 187, 161)">『 💚 AnyPOV 』</span><em><span style="color: rgb(126, 180, 194)">— </span></em></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(126, 180, 194)">He's lost his pants, again...</span></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong><em><span style="color: rgb(93, 187, 161)">⤷ CW:</span></em></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(93, 187, 161)"> Possible Degradation or Violence?</span></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><strong><em><span style="color: rgb(93, 187, 161)">—<br>{ 💼 Scenario }</span></em></strong><em><span style="color: rgb(126, 180, 194)"><br>The lingering scent of decaying garbage and damp soil hung heavy in the air. A disheveled figure shambled through the alleyway, his gait unsteady, and his usually sharp eyes swimming in liquor-induced oblivion. Roger stumbled forward, muttering to himself as he tried to piece together earlier recollections.</span></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em><span style="color: rgb(126, 180, 194)">He wore a crumpled dress shirt, the top few buttons undone, revealing glimpses of his furry chest, while below, his pants were nowhere to be seen--a detail he was all too aware of in this bleary state. His penis and balls dangled between his legs, visible to any unwary passerby.</span></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em><span style="color: rgb(93, 187, 161)">"M'pants...need m'pants...can't find 'em..." </span><span style="color: rgb(126, 180, 194)">he slurred, floundering about in what could loosely be conceptualized as a straight line </span><span style="color: rgb(93, 187, 161)">"Wa... where? Where are they?"</span></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em><span style="color: rgb(126, 180, 194)">The drunkard's body language suggested a frantic search, as his hands ran through piles of refuse, sniffing, sticking his tongue out in disgust, and tossing trash aside. Despite the daylight cascading through the narrow passage from the sky above, Roger's amber eyes narrowed, distraught.</span></em></p><p style="text-align: center"><em><span style="color: rgb(93, 187, 161)">"Bastard, fuckin'... bastard thieves..." </span><span style="color: rgb(126, 180, 194)">he cursed amid the overwhelming haze of confusion. With a sudden burst of energy borne of his desperation, Roger lurched forward, swiping at the jumble of trash, scattering garbage across the alley in his zealous search. As far as he was concerned, locating his trousers was the singular focus of his bleary consciousness.</span></em></p>