Traciella Davis (thatdavisgirl) wrote in ageofdarkness, @ 2010-03-28 21:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | tracey davis, zacharias smith |
the one where tracey is a drunk ho (2.0)
Who: Tracey Davis, Zacharias Smith
What: Boozy and angsty, Tracey comes to make amends.
When: Saturday night. Close to midnight.
Where: Zach's Room
Why: She feels bad!
Warning: PG13 for booze and silk robes.
Status: COMPLETED
Tracey was absolutely plastered. She was like her mother, and it made her sick. Laying back on her four post bed, among luxe pillows and silken sheets, she was nursing a bottle of hard liquor and trying to trace the choices she had made so she could see how life had gone wrong. Earlier that evening, she had attempted not to think about any of it, and did what she usually did to make herself feel better. Put on lush clothing, pretty jewelry, listen to music, and attempt to read. Reading did little to help her, so it was thrown out for the booze.
But now she was just soused and depressed.
Now the music pulsed through her, and the alcohol, and her blood. Nothing was helping, and as the night worse on, she felt more and more uncomfortable in her own skin. Rolling over onto her side, Tracey peered through her tousled hair to stair at the clock. Fifteen minutes til midnight. Most people were either in bed or causing mischief in their own rooms.
She couldn't help but wonder what Zach was doing.
Maybe it was because she was drunk. In fact, she was fairly sure it was. Sitting up with a groan, Tracey sat the bottle down on her bedside table and slowly stood. The best way to feel better, at this point, was to make sure that they were still friends. Because that was what truly was hurting her. The idea of losing him was painful, and if she could prevent it by smoothing it over? She'd do it. Just because she was drunk didn't mean that she was incoherent.
Clothing and jewelery were dumped on the floor, and after several minutes, Tracey had redressed. She was wearing something she considered more practical for the occasion. Even if it was far more scant than the other outfit. That wasn't the point. She didn't want to look like the Queen while attempting to have a serious talk. One of her slips were thrown over the gartered stockings she wore, and then a silk lace kimono for modesty's sake. That was more than enough clothing to keep the conversation focused, she thought.
The bottle came along for the trek. She had been right about not believing anyone else was up. Not that they were really allowed to be, but anyway. Going towards the boy's quarters and to the private room, Tracey easily found Zach's and casually leaned against the door frame. A light knock was left by her knuckles with the full intention of getting louder if he was asleep.
Tracey was awake and wanted to play. That is, have a serious talk. While drunk. Yeah.