Hacking up the deepest reservoirs of his lungs, Luke sniffles the dribble back up his nostrils. He gently wipes his streaming eyes clear, unfortunately not allowing any better view of his dark surroundings. His elbows felt sore and tender - he'd clearly been laying here a while. 

"Whiskey!" - A thought sprung suddenly to his head. He felt around the hard surface beneath him. His fingers so cold and numb that the coarse aggregrate shocking his sense of feeling like the sudden, unexpected nip of a fresh razor blade. Shuddering already as the cold breeze ran through his sore bones, he had overlooked the pain in the desperate desire to reunite with his whiskey.

He lashes out, hurling a few small rocks away from him before slumping back against the nearby wall. He had started noticing objects appearing in his vision. The floating silhouettes began to settle and became recognisable shapes and even colours. He didn't know how long he'd been here, but he felt like he'd fallen down at least four flights of stairs - or perhaps been thrown.

Attempting to sit up, pain shot through his jaw and down his neck. His body cracking as he shuffled up on to his bum, back arched against the wall. While his scruffy appearance would suit that of an old bum, his attire was actually previously well-kept. Of course, the freshly torn stitching and mud stains meant it'd never quite look like it once did but it proved this wasn't a regularly sleeping spot for the young man - some might even say kid. In fact, he was clearly still wet behind the ears but he'd already lived enough to know he didn't want to be waking up in alleyways too often.

He squeezed the back of his neck, attempting to find some comfort as he rolled his head around his broad shoulders. Bouncing his back off of the wall behind him, he slowly finds his way to his feet and steadies himself. 

"UCH. UGHCH. UGHCHH!" Maybe that was his other lung coming up... 

He looks around waiting for the fuzzy feeling of blood rushing around his head to settle. His jelly legs tremble beneath him as he begins taking steps for what feels like the first time. Stumbling around, he feels his way down the wall towards the only visible protruding light. He wasn't sure where he was or why he was here but he needed to find somewhere warm... somewhere dry... But most importantly, he needed to find somewhere with whiskey.

As the light drew closer, he begun to recognise the sounds and basic layout of a city - but which one? It certainly wasn't a place he immediately knew - perhaps it was even a place he'd never been before? His memory was terrible at the best of times but waking up in a pile down a foreign dark alleyway certainly wasn't helping matters. Making his way slowly down the quiet street he'd found himself on, his attention is caught by a nearing shop window. He looks above the window in a hope for a sign or maybe evem an address - he'd settle for any clue of his whereabouts, really.

His vision still isn't great, but he mutters the little words he can see in the lacking light, 
"Downtown," he pauses a moment, thinking.
"Great... But which fucking town?!"

He kicks the flimsy wooden shop door as a show of impatience, leaving a boot mark as the lock struggles to take the impact. Turning in circles, he looks around the streets for signs of life. As he rotates his body, scanning the surrounding area, he feels something heavy in his pocket bang against the side of his arm. Confused, he looks down at his pocket. He slides his hand in slowly, unsure of what he's about to find, he cautiously feels around.

Suddenly, his face lights up as he hurries, attempting to pull his hand back out of his pocket - this time holding something. 

"FUCK YES!! WHISKEY!!"

whisky is a good drink xD