fatespoken | ∞ [twenty-seven]

[ private | unhackable ]

You're fucking pathetic, Amory.

You keep reminding yourself of what you could have done, how you could have helped her - but what what's the point? Isn't this what you wanted? To live your life by Dissociation and Indifference. That model of life in which you don't have to bother with all the frivolities and requirements of friendship. If you didn't care, if you had been more careful not to get in this far-

But what are you even trying say, anyway? It's all just fucking empty rhetoric. Do you just like hearing yourself talk, Amory? You can't string together sense if you tried.

The truth is you're guilty because you care about her. Because she's your friend. Just like all the others. And you just can't avoid it, no matter how you try to pretend you don't have a heart.

...But even if you admit you wanted to help, what could you have done? You could have had the ability to help - the ability to do so fucking much, except that you're selfish. Not only to help Eden, to save the lives of all those people back home.

But my life forfeit for theirs? I can't do it. For faces I don't even know? Even if it's what I'm supposed to do- But they're the cause of their own fates anyways, every negative action reflects back on the cycle-

...its too early in the morning for this shit. this same old fucking garbage. just leave it alone

[/private]

Too bad all the fairies from that curse disappeared. I collected a few in a shoebox after a round of batting practice. Planned to pin them on my door like some fashion of lawn gnome (or door fairy in this case), and I even had the layout all planned in my head.

Too bad.

By the way,

playstheblues? I don't think I can make it to work today. I've got headache like a jackhammer's fucking with my brain and I'd rather not go to work, where I'll most likely be 90% useless. But I'm not going to let you down, Blue. I'm not that type of employee, you know? So I'm going to spend my day home, researching drinks for that party at the Blue Light. I'll even test each of them out, just to make sure they're not some sort of noxious concoction. And I won't use moonshine, as I promised. Even though I suspect I can make some damn good bathtub gin.

Here's one, for example:

Mary Pickford
◈ 1 1/2 oz white rum
◈ 1 oz unsweetened pineapple juice
◈ 1/2 teaspoon grenadine
Strain into chilled cocktail glass and drop in a maraschino cherry.

It's like a feminine version of the Piña Colada minus the coconut, especially with that half teaspoon of grenadine. Though the Piña Colada is already fruity shit, so this is definitely a woman's drink. It's named after Mary Pickford— America's sweetheart and starlet of the silent film age. Ever watch Little Lord Fauntleroy? She was the girl you'd stick on your walls back then, all curls and saccharine smiles, and not a tit in sight. Ironically enough, she was actually Canadian.

So I'm just going to stay put with my bottle of aspirin and my liquor. I'll test as many as I can and do a write-up when I'm done. Sound good?

[ ooc; he's already intoxicated, since he's been drinking half of the night. which is why his post is all over the place. ;;

bedtime nao, will pick up tags when i'm up! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No. No, I haven't.

[She remembers that dinner. She just doesn't want to entertain him in that way.]

I'll just sleep it off here. That's what I'm here to do anyway.

What a little liar.

[ And he says that with a half-smile on his face - no venom intended ]

And I was about to start a series of 80's and 90's song renditions. Mind if I do it while you're asleep?

Mind if I kick your head off your shoulders?

[Unlike him, her venom is intended.]

Mind if I kick you out of my apartment?

[ He should have just gone to work. Headache be damned, this woman was making it worse. ]

[If he would just shut up and let her sleep, they both wouldn't be annoyed to hell and back.]

Actually, yes. Yes, I do.

Fine, sleep there. Don't snore or I'll smack you with a pillow. My headache's bad enough already.

[ He hands her a drink he made - this one with a shot and half of rum. Amory would put more, but he's going to assume she's a lightweight. Because she's pipsqueak. ]

[His assumption is right. This is the girl who gets tipsy after one drink; this clearly stops her from drinking as much as her age does.]

Well, maybe if you took aspirin instead of vodka...

[Kate lets the rest of her comment fade into her glass.]

I did, and as much as I want another dose, I just took two thirty minutes ago.

[ he's still eying and kate and the couch, realizing that it'd be more comfortable to lean his head on the arm of the couch versus the hard wood of the table. So he gets up, almost naked with a glass of Jack Daniels in hand, and flops his way onto the right side of the couch. Amory doesn't mind pushing Kate aside without any warning. It is his couch. ]

Edited 2009-08-25 23:41 (UTC)

Then stop yapping and my headache will stop.

[Kate's pretty sure it's his roommate's couch and she gives him a little kick in retaliation, curling up her legs to give him just the littlest bit of room. Funny how she's managed to get so comfortable with somebody she claims to hate.]

[ Amory shoves her back in retaliation because he's not goning to let a woman, no less Kate, abuse him. Curling up his legs, headjusts his head and leans against the arm of the couch, using it to support the seemingly half-ton weight of his head. Fuck headaches. And it was strange, especially strange for Amory who usually maintains a two feet bubble around him. It must be the booze.]

Fine, then we'll both shut up. Annoying

Edited 2009-08-25 23:56 (UTC)

[So he wants to be that way? Fine. Kate kicks him again, this time harder because all she wants to do is take a nap before she has to go back to work and here he is just hogging up the end of the couch.]

You can shut up and go to another room.

[ And he kicks her back, brushing his socked-foot against her face in the process. This is his couch and he can take a side of it if he damn well wants. ]

But I like this couch.

[This is her couch since she laid claim on it in the name of all Bishop and Jesus Christ, did he just put his nasty feet in her face?]

What is wrong with you? That got in my mouth!

[Kate sits up and splutters for a full minute before grabbing her purse and smacking him upside the head with it.]

[ Amory glares at her as she stalks off, but he doesn't make any motion to go after her. Mostly because that whack just made his headache reverberate through his head ]

Don't be a bitch, Kate.

[Her reply comes after a few doors are opened and slammed closed until she finds the room--bedroom, to be exact--that she's looking for. He can have the couch; she's taking his bed.]

Don't be a dick, Amory.

[ An hour has passed, and Amory's barely managed 40 minute of sleeps. With a another shot down the hatch, he decides that the best course of action is to bother Kate.

He doesn't knock, what do you expect? Instead, he slowly opens the door of the bedroom, creeping through the darkness so that he's now hovering over the bed.

One second, two second, three second, four second -

And there's a large thump as Amory tackles the bed, pushing Kate aside as he attempts to snatch the space next to her. ]

Give me my bed, Pipsqueak.

[The only reason why Kate's in Amory's apartment in the first place is not because she's still avoiding Teddy, it's because his building is closer to her job than her own and she really didn't think she had the energy to walk all the way down to Building 2 without a quick recharge. Otherwise, she would have been in her own damn bed without this two-legged annoyance who is the bane of her existence.

Her first reaction once his entire weight lands on her is to rear back and punch him dead in the nose. She's not going to apologize either. Who the hell tackles a sleeping person and a sleeping Kate most of all?]

What the fuck? Damn it, Amory. What the hell is wrong with you?

∞ [twenty-seven]

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