Joanie Wicker | The Wicked Witch of the West (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} wickedwicker) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} bellumlogs,@ 2010-05-08 22:28:00 |
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What: Drinking and shenanigans
Where: The stairwell and then Juke Joint
When: Today at about 8:30
Warnings: Swearing, asshattery from both parties, copious alcohol use, and general disorderly conduct.
It was like her head was going to explode. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but Joanie definitely felt some pressure behind her eyeballs as she pulled a green hoodie on over her black tank top. Though she agreed that getting drunk just to get drunk was bad, she needed a distraction. Work had always been a minor annoyance - she liked what she did, but hated her clientele - but with recent developments, every little irritation blew up in her face.
She tried not to feel guilt as she locked her apartment door, stuffing her keys in one of the pockets of her jeans. After all, it wasn't her fault that Russell was so pissed off. It was Micah's. Or maybe hers, for even telling Micah what she did in her free time in the first place. It wasn't like they were really friends or anything. Either way, she could tell that Russell hadn't been amused by her request on the forum earlier that day, and she wasn't sure if she could blame him, guilty or not. It was kind of a weird thing to ask, no matter how many ways Micah tried to spin it. So she had driven away her only friend - Luther was old, so he didn't count, and Aiden was an asshole, so he didn't either - and gotten signed up for a potentially dangerous Neighborhood Watch campaign with a wily beast and a handful of busybodies.
So her plans were excusable.
She strode quickly to the stairwell, rushing down it smoothly with a hand gliding over the banister. She was dressed simply - shirt, jeans, hoodie, sneakers - and had foregone a purse, just stuffing her wallet in her pocket. After all, she didn't want to take anything she could lose. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail in case of vomiting, and she had no jewelry on. She was ready to go.
As she approached the third floor, she could see Aiden standing out on the landing. "Hey, princess!" she called from above him, quickly moving down to his side. She looked at him for a moment, a smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. "Don't you look pretty. Let's go." Without a backwards glance, she lead them both down to the lobby.
She tried not to feel guilt as she locked her apartment door, stuffing her keys in one of the pockets of her jeans. After all, it wasn't her fault that Russell was so pissed off. It was Micah's. Or maybe hers, for even telling Micah what she did in her free time in the first place. It wasn't like they were really friends or anything. Either way, she could tell that Russell hadn't been amused by her request on the forum earlier that day, and she wasn't sure if she could blame him, guilty or not. It was kind of a weird thing to ask, no matter how many ways Micah tried to spin it. So she had driven away her only friend - Luther was old, so he didn't count, and Aiden was an asshole, so he didn't either - and gotten signed up for a potentially dangerous Neighborhood Watch campaign with a wily beast and a handful of busybodies.
So her plans were excusable.
She strode quickly to the stairwell, rushing down it smoothly with a hand gliding over the banister. She was dressed simply - shirt, jeans, hoodie, sneakers - and had foregone a purse, just stuffing her wallet in her pocket. After all, she didn't want to take anything she could lose. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail in case of vomiting, and she had no jewelry on. She was ready to go.
As she approached the third floor, she could see Aiden standing out on the landing. "Hey, princess!" she called from above him, quickly moving down to his side. She looked at him for a moment, a smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. "Don't you look pretty. Let's go." Without a backwards glance, she lead them both down to the lobby.