I'm Not That Drunk! (Shiro)

Cheers and shouts can be heard from a local bar near the Seireitei, a rather decent place from the look of things and it's reputation. Well, as decent as a bar in the Rukongai can get.

And of course, since it was so close to the Sereitei there had to be Shinigami stopping in it for drinks. And, by this logic and for those who knew him, Shinda would either be here or have been here. And tonight the brown-haired man was drinking his ass off more than usual.

His demeanor was rowdy, his zanpakuto stashed on his waist as he drank, bruises and wounds visibly healing on him. His body was a mess from the recent bar-fights and training he had been getting, especially that one bout against a bunch of Shinigami. Shinda shuddered at the thought. He didn't like getting his ass kicked so much he felt like he might have died.

WIth a sigh, he downs another shot of whiskey, ordering another. And, as the night progressed, he was soon drunk as hell. "I'm sorry bud, but you are being cut off." The barkeep says to Shinda, who just downed his ninth shot. His eyes shoot open and he slams his fists into the wooden bar. "Hey! I'm not done!" He protests.

A glare from the larger man silences the Shinigami, who only grumbles, nodding and staggering his way outside. Perhaps a drunk walk through the town would give him some fun and maybe some more drinks along the way. With a grin, he begins to walk down the road, staggering and falling in places.