Purity Z Storms (purityzstorms) wrote in city_limits, @ 2009-04-01 18:47:00 |
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Current mood: | high |
Entry tags: | avery adlam, connor reilly, purity storms, sonya ramius |
After-Party
Now that it was later at night, and some people had gone home, the doors were closed and the music was lowered. Everyone that was left was sitting around the living area. After flashing Rhiannon the baggy of weed, and getting the go ahead, Purity leaned across the table and pulled out some papers. While everyone talked the witch made two joints before sitting up again and tossing one towards the Slayer. "Rhi, catch." Purity settled back on the couch, lifting a box of matches, the witch sparked one to life. The flame flickered before being pulled towards the spliff. Quietly the paper crackled as it lit, the end glowing red as the witch breathed in. Slowly smoke curled up, like a haze before her eyes, until she let her head fall back and exhaled.
Rhiannon, who was off guard while she nursed a cup of vodka and tonic, attempted to catch the joint left-handed, but it bounced off her palm and landed in the neck of her tank top. "Shit... Purity!" she laughed and retrieved it. "Be glad that didn't land in my cup... Fucking reflexes." Having been drinking steadily for a few hours, her motor skills were beginning to notice the difference. She set down her cup and fished a lighter out of her jeans pocket. Once she ignited the paper, she puffed on it and passed it to the side.
Connor was sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him as he watched the ritual-like lighting of the joint. He'd been uncertain about staying, only because he'd never even thought about trying pot before, but he'd also gotten into the vodka after finishing his third soda and it seemed imprudent to try wrestling the bike back to his own apartment. Blue eyes blinked sleepily as he watched Rhiannon light the second cylinder of paper, and he sniffed at the smoke as it wafted across the room. The ember was very red, and he focused on it as the Slayer inhaled, watching it turn orange, then fade back to red as she passed it along.
Hell with it. His hand brushed Rhiannon's knuckles, and he took the joint from her to put it cautiously between his lips for a short puff. The smoke burned his throat when he inhaled, but he managed to hold it for a couple of seconds before starting to cough. "Jesus," he said, waving his free hand back and forth in front of his face as if that would stifle the fit. Okay, maybe this was not his best idea. Or maybe he just didn't know what he was doing. The Destroyer handed the joint off to his opposite side, wiped at one eye as it tried to water.
Reaching across, Purity handed the joint over to Hayden, just in time to watch Connor choke and cough. The witch laughed and shook her head, "Sip at soda, it'll help take the burn away from the back of your throat." She turned to look at Rhiannon, a sly grin curling her lips, "Is that you showing your skills? Wouldn't want to mess with you, you might miss me." Lifting her beer, she took a liberal sip, her elbow resting on the arm of the couch as she turned to face everyone more fully.
"Don't count on it," Rhiannon said, gathering her wits sufficiently to peg Purity's chest with her Zippo.
Hayden stretched out his arm and took the pot from the witch. "This lesson in coordination from a woman with a piss stain on her crotch," he joked, gesturing at the beer that had dried on Purity's thigh, some spilling incident he missed while talking to Juliet in the kitchen. Because there was a chance she might punch him, he retreated quickly into the arm chair. Hayden studied the pattern on the rolling paper before inhaling and holding onto the smoke. He leaned forward and offered it to Sonya. "Hey... Red." He nudged his roommate's shoulder.
Drugs were an idiotic thing for anyone to subject themselves to... If they numbered themselves among animal kingdom, that was. As someone with demonic heritage on one side of her family tree, Sonya had the good fortune to apparently try any number of chemical cocktails and, providing they were not lethal, did not have to worry about a bad liver, brain damage or any of the rest of it. Human beings did not have such a luxury, but if they did, illicit substances would probably be a whole lot more legal than they were today.
She was already well into the supply of vodka and did not mix it with anything. It gave her a light-hearted, informal mood and there was a cackle of laughter, at the sight of Connor's far inexperience showing with the burning smoke. Expected, but no less amusing. Inhaling her own turn, Sonya had definitely done this sort of thing before, if her manner was anything to go by and passed it onto the next volunteer in their ad hoc circle.
There was a delay between the lighter hitting Purity's chest and her actually noticing the small twinge of pain. Blinking at it as it landed in her lap, the witch turned to look up at Rhiannon, "Hey... Maybe I like tough love." Then her attention was drawn to Hayden, her hand waving at her pants, "I didn't piss myself! It's beer, you can tell by the smell. Not that you're invited to do that."
"What?" Hayden laughed and spread his hands innocently. "I wasn't going to dive in."
Having recovered from his first attempt with the joint, Connor made a second try at it on the next pass, tightening his diaphragm to hold in the smoke even when his lungs protested. It still burned, but he managed it without coughing, letting his head thump backwards against the edge of the chair as he finally let it out. "Very funny," he said to Sonya in a strained voice, but the strain was purely because of the smoke, not because of any personal embarrassment. He'd either misplaced it in the apartment somewhere or he'd left it at home. Either option was fine with him.
He leaned forward, breathing out softly, handed the burning cylinder back in Rhiannon's direction. "You're next at bat, I think."
She met him halfway, pinching it between her fingers. Usually she got a kick out of teasing Connor on anything she could, but left him alone on this one. She remembered dimly the first time she smoked pot, and having the urge to punch a guy who made fun of her. It was bad enough, feeling like everybody was staring at you, sizing you up. The last thing she wanted was to discourage him from being social.
"So. I've been thinking. We should start a pool on when's the next supernatural crisis." Rhiannon crossed her ankles and pulled her knees up to her chest, arms looping loosely around. "Weird personality switch-ups don't count. I'm thinking apocalyptic chaos. If it's gonna be a pain in the ass, we might as well have a good time with it." Her smoker's lungs handled the inhale pretty well. After two pulls, she could feel the beginnings of a buzz. "Anyone wanna pick April Fool's Day?"
"Nah." Hayden pulled his hair back in a loose ponytail, but didn't secure it. A couple of pieces got stuck in his beard. "I'm pulling for 4th of July." He got a furrow in his forehead. "Somebody ought to start a chart and do statistics." The beer he had was getting warm. He knocked back the rest of it and put it with collection on the end table.
For the slightest moment, something like a vague outline of Elfleda could be seen in the smoke. Coincidence? Probably. Sonya, however, not being familiar with her, did not comment and the idea of regular supernatural disasters went over her head. Mallory, her friend, had been more interconnected with that side of things. The Russian, by contrast, had got caught up in a few, but was not party to the inner workings of them. While the others talked between themselves, she inhaled, long and slow, then held her breath for the longest time, giving the fumes plenty of chance at being absorbed into her oxygenated bloodstream.
Giving a sudden exhale through nose, the redhead sneezed, feeling a dizzy state in the immediate aftermath. The instrument of their collective mental instability being passed along to the next party, while Sonya blinked in response to the beginnings of her chemical high.
"Fourth July..." She pondered, more familiar with her own national holidays. "Is Capitalist celebration of consumer rights, da?"
Rhiannon squinted and waved at the thickening cloud of smoke, perhaps subconsciously scrubbing a bothersome figure from the air. "I think that's every major holiday," she said. "4th of July's the one with fireworks and John Phillip Sousa and staged patriotism." She passed the joint to her roommate, getting off topic for the moment. "I don't remember where we bought this. It's strong."
Shaking her head with a grin, Purity reached across and took the joint from the Slayer, taking a deep toke and relaxing back. She held it until her lungs and felt warm. "It's awesome." A stupid smile tugged at the corners of the witch's mouth. "I like the idea of April Fool's, sort of gives fate a sense of humor." With a shrug, she took another drag and handed it over to Hayden. Sinking back into the couch, Purity tilted her head and brought one hand up to chew her thumb nail.
"You know what we should take bets on?" She gave a small snort, "What's going to happen next. For all we know it could be a deranged unicorn on the rampage, because uh..." Yeah, she hadn't thought that through, and cringed.
Hayden, in the middle of a drag, froze. He snorted with laughter and choked on the smoke. Face reddening, he said, "You would pick something with a phallus on its head for your biggest nightmare."
"Just so we're clear..." She gave him a sly grin, lifting her hand to point at him, "You're saying that something with a phallus on its head wouldn't be your kind of nightmare?" Truth be told, it had been the first thing to come to her mind after looking at Sonya's wings... Or was that Pegasus with the horn and wings? She didn't really care either way.
"Ah, man." Hayden rubbed his eyes. "I get your point."
Rhiannon stared at a spot on the carpet. "I dunno. I think it sounds kinda promising."
"Was that the sound of somebody not getting any?" Purity slumped further on the couch, just in case the Slayer decided to throw anything else.
"I haven't heard a lot of noises coming from your room," Rhiannon retorted.
Purity gave a slow smile, "My noisy activities don't happen here."
"Having a phallus on your head sounds promising?" The dope was getting into Connor's bloodstream in a hurry regardless of its potency and he rolled his head to the side to look at Rhiannon as both eyebrows climbed up towards his hairline. The corners of his mouth were already twitching and then he couldn't fight the snicker, either. "How would you even...?" He waved his hands around, the correct word eluding him, and then he had to look away because he could feel a laugh bubbling up from his stomach. Hair fell into his face, and he swept it aside, feeling his cheeks start to burn. "Never mind." Snicker. "Ew."
They were speaking about donkeys with ice cream cones on their heads or something... Sonya's grasp of the English language was tenuous, at best and her present mental state only added to the problems of language barrier. "What for you sayings...?" She asked, eyes narrowing in a wince of confusion, before attempting to get to her feet.
Now, Sonya had a curious metabolism... It was the reason why she went through food like a gastronomic chainsaw. It was also why she now swayed, not at all balanced right, as she attempted to navigate her way to where food was kept, only to find that her legs were not obeying orders. "You... Moves," she slurred at one foot, but it remained in place. Those wings of hers were considerably less erect than usual and acting more like a weakened shower curtain, than what they actually were.
"I is be thinks..." Lips wet themselves and she sort of slumped back down on the couch, again. "I is be thinks..." But Sonya was not quite sure what 'she be thinks' and looked at her watch. "Heyyy...! So short of times... But! Is like... Like hour have be passed!"
A moment's consideration later and Sonya piped up with a spontaneous, "I would be likings sugars. Who have sugars, please?"
"Just remember you asked for it," Hayden warned, moving onto the couch. He slung an arm around his 'ex-wife' turned roommate's shoulders. He planted a big, noisy and completely chaste kiss on her cheek, which was more like a raspberry than anything romantic or sexual.
Rhiannon's addled brain was still stuck on the previous topic. Exhaling smoke, she leaned forward to paint a vivid mental picture for Connor. "See, if you had a horn on your head, you could kind-of..." she hunkered down and made a makeshift horn out of her stacked fists, "Get in there... Well, it'd be better if you went in upside down, because then you could use your mouth, too." Rhiannon tilted left. Trying to reenact it without invading anybody's personal space proved confusing. "Shit, I need a blow-up doll or something."
Finishing off her beer, Purity watched, fascinated by Rhiannon's performance. Waving her hand around, the witch indicated herself, "Use me."
"Oh, now that's just..." The Destroyer was blushing now, but he straightened his spine and sat up more, his jeans making noise against the living room floor. "You'd have to be, like, beyond flexible for that to even work, and as good as I'm sure you are, I doubt you're that good." He picked up the can of Coke he'd set aside and took a clumsy swig of it, feeling grateful for the dark sweatshirt he had on when he spilled some down his chest. "Shit. Party foul." He squinted at the Slayer owlishly, the alcohol and marijuana combining to slow even his reflexes and mental processes. "Gimme another hit off that. Before I...tickle you or something."
While she listened to him talk, Rhiannon's expression grew more and more confused. Holding the joint hostage, Rhiannon said, "Wait a second. You didn't think I meant horn-fucking myself?" God, did she need to draw a picture? "No, I meant like... the guy," she pointed at her roommate, "Or girl puts on the horn, and then..." She made a tunneling motion with her hand, which actually made her look like she was doing The Swim.
Suddenly, she realized what she was talking about. "I must be drunk." Either that, or she needed to drink more. Rhiannon passed him the joint and picked up her cup.
"Ohhh!" Announced Sonya, having a wide-eyed eureka moment. "Like with double-end Vibro-Sabre-tooth 3000 and the dirty fuck-meats!"
The Russian melted into giggles, because her own hip gyrations for reasons of demonstration, exemplified a bizarre cross between sock puppet theatre and the realm of the obscenely pornographic. Taking the burning stick of smouldering cannabis in hand, Sonya inhaled a good whiff, breathing out more laughter than silent air.
"Looks, Hayden!" She suddenly espoused, holding his wrist aloft with much drama, like it was the most amazing discovery, ever. "You have hand!"
Purity's eyes widened at Sonya's outburst. A few blinks later and the witch was trying to catch Hayden's attention. "Saber-tooth what now?" Running her hand through her hair, leaving it standing up and disheveled. She was beginning to think there was a whole lot more to Sonya than she had realised. "Yeah but you've got wings!" Her hand snaked towards the table and snagged a can of coke, she pulled it open with a hiss and took a large gulp.
"Which puts her in the company of..." Rhiannon let her head loll backwards as she thought it over; inanely, a daytime commercial came to mind. "Feminine products." Shaking that nonsensical idea away, she scooted towards Connor and sat before him, indian-style. Rhiannon peered into his face, beverage held aloft in her right hand. "God, look at your pupils. They're huge." She was of the opinion that he needed more to drink, and forced her cup of vodka and tonic water into his hand. "Drink this."
Like a marionette, Hayden let his hand flop around. "This is gonna blow your mind," he said to Sonya, and produced the opposite hand with a waggle of fingers in front of the redhead's face. "I have two."
"They are?" Connor asked, touching his face as if that would clue him in about the relative size of his pupils. He looked down into the glass Rhiannon had just handed him after a toke of the joint, then shrugged one shoulder and knocked back half of the contents without thinking about it. The Slayer had never steered him wrong before, he didn't see why she'd start now.
"Sonya's hot," he announced, the words muffled because he was still looking down into the glass, noticing how the material of his jeans seemed to ripple through the bottom of the glass, like he was looking at them through the rushing water of a river. "Wings and all." He felt very light suddenly, as if his body lacked density, and the back of his head dented the cushion of the chair as he looked towards the ceiling instead. Another toke came and went. "I have two hands too," he added, looking over at Hayden with a faintly puzzled expression. "I think I was gonna say something else, but I just forgot what it was."
Hayden's kiss had caught Sonya in a more jovial mood than usual. Her reaction had just been to laugh through it. The verbal journey, from wings to hotness, though, was giving the young Russian a reason to scrutinise the comments. It might not have been so bad, until Connor mentioned she was... And then virtually compared extremities to the other male in the room, which gave Sonya the kind of mental images to start squeaking into veritable hiccups of stifled laughter.
"Oh! Waits! Rhiannon be gets you tape for the measurings!" Downing her vodka in one, Sonya attempted to drag herself up to feet, again. This time for a game of what could loosely be described as charades for stoners. "Two words... One syllollabic... First wording! Is be sound like..."
There was a moment where Purity wanted to throw her soda at Connor, but she decided it was far too silly, especially over a demon who was more than likely straight. Shrugging lightly, the witch picked up several bottle caps laying on the table, gently clinking them in her palm. "Sounds like...?" Green eyes flickered to Sonya before shifting to Rhiannon, one of the bottle caps suddenly flying through the air to smack against her shoulder. Looking away quickly, she flicked another towards Hayden, her chin tilting so she was watching the ceiling as if innocent.
Having surrendered her cup to Connor, the Slayer backed into her former sitting place, a bottle of alcohol in hand. Rhiannon gave him a bizarre look; she really hoped she remembered his outburst later, so she could bring it up and harass him. As for now, his mention of the redhead being 'hot' and 'winged' made her think about barbecue sauce, which made her hungry. Retrieving a bowl of cheese doodles, she proceeded to chomp on them and suggest words to match Sonya's antics. "Feet, sounds like feet! Wait... Meat? Meat ass? What the hell's a meat ass?"
The bottle cap bounced off her shoulder. At first, she simply flicked it away and concentrated on Sonya's pantomime. "Dog!" Then a second cap struck her in the chin. "Ouch!" Rhianon picked it up and looked around for the nearest guilty-seeming person. Which happened to be Connor, although quite what he was guilty of doing or thinking, who was to know? "That fucking hurt, Connor!" Abandoning alcohol, the brunette launched herself across the living room divide, armed with a cheese doodle, and attempted to stick it in his nose.
On the couch, Hayden hid his palmful of beer bottle caps underneath his pillow and gestured at Purity, swiping his hand across his throat. 'Shh! Shh!' Meanwhile, he took some kind of sick, cackling glee at watching Rhiannon go after Connor with the snack-food, red faced and rolling onto his side, almost falling over the couch arm. It was a major effort not to drop the joint and burn a hole in the carpet.
While hanging off the couch, Hayden glanced up at Sonya. "Ass bone, it's definitely ass bone."
"Oh!" Exclaimed Sonya, breaking from her word game. "Is rapes! Is rapes!" She declared, pointing furiously at the two champions' sudden entangling of limbs and attempted food product penetration. "Kills him! Kills him!"
Sonya was definitely in an altered state of mind. Sensory input seemed somehow heightened, more vivid and, considering the girl's love of watching anything violent, had done her usual leaping to conclusion of the Slayer making a sexual assault - which she found utterly hilarious. So much so, in fact, that the Russian went from cheering on in full, throaty laughter, to falling on her ass, wings a-flapping.
"Ow! What? Hey, what?!" Caught off guard, Connor was thoroughly unprepared to find himself with an armful of Rhiannon and he toppled over sideways, as he twisted his head to the side to avoid the invasive cheese doodle. He tried to get his hands on her wrists, but as stoned as he was getting his coordination was shot. He finally gave up on getting a grip on her, abandoning that plan in favor of following up on his earlier threat of tickling. The cup with the vodka in it had spilled and the liquid started to soak into his shirt as he poked his fingers into the Slayer's midsection. He couldn't even remember if Rhiannon was ticklish or not, but it hardly mattered. He'd started to laugh by then, the words almost drowned in the rising hilarity as he said, "Whatever I did, it wasn't me, it was someone else!"
Trying to stuff the bottle caps into her pants pocket, Purity kept her gaze away from the Slayer, just in case she realised that Connor was innocent. The faces Hayden was pulling, however, had the witch laughing. Combined with the alcohol and pot, even the most basic things seemed to take more effort, like getting her hand back out without pulling any of the beer caps back out with it. So she sat there, in the corner of the couch, her right hand across her stomach and rummaging in her left pocket. Then she forgot what she was doing. Frowning, clearly puzzled, she wiggled her hand free. Causing the bottle caps to jingle again. "Was I looking for my cell phone?"
"Hold still!" When Connor tipped over, Rhiannon snatched the opportunity to brace her knees in his ribs and hold him by the chin. She was merciless with the cheese doodle, twisting left and right, attempting to force it up his nostril, which was just about the right size. But tragedy struck: he tickled her. "Nooo!" In a mad scramble to escape, she broke the cheese doodle off halfway. Orange puffed starch remained jammed up Connor's nose.
Rhiannon fell back on her ass, the other end of it in her fingertips. Horrified, she looked back and forth. "Oh shit..."
Having bogarted one, and taken a few too many puffs at the rapidly-dwindling joint, Hayden was fully into paranoia. "Shh!" He put the joint in an ashtray and dove over the couch arm, making a frantic grab for Purity's noisy, pocketed hand. "Shh, Purity, you're too loud! She's gonna know!" he stage-whispered, pointing back at Rhiannon.
"Shit, you're out of your mind!" Connor was still laughing and he scrambled back from Rhiannon, to try and extract the broken cheese doodle from his nostril. His leg banged against the coffee table, and several beer bottles rattled together before they fell over like bowling pins, making a huge glass-on-glass racket. The Destroyer chuffed like a bull, then blocked the unclogged passage with his thumb to repeat the action. He shook his head when the object finally came loose, looked at it with a sort of amazed disgust. "You're so gross."
And then he looked up and noticed the way Hayden was trying to catch hold of Purity's hand, and a dopily suspicious expression crossed his face. There were orange crumbs on his upper lip. He pulled himself up to his knees, all of his usual agility missing in action before he dive-bombed the couch, fully intending to apply the tickling method to the witch instead.
"Rhiannon knows I'm not loud." Purity's eyebrows furrowed as she blinked at Hayden, her hand coming free from her pocket when she noticed her cell on the table. "Hey, there it is." She grinned, quite content with herself for locating it without having to get up. When Connor lunged, the witch brought her knees up to her chest, her hands outstretched as she shrieked, "Get off me doodle boy!" Twisting to try and get away from him, the witch all but climbed over Hayden, "I have... " Purity's hands were searching her pockets, her fingers wrapped around something and she grinned, "I have...!" Scrambling up with a bit of a wobble, the witch pulled her hand free and brandished, "Gum!" Shit. "Gum? Fuck!" Hastily the witch threw it at Connor, the small pack slapped his forehead.
Hayden grabbed onto Purity around the waist. He was presently on the floor with the witch in his lap, using her as a human shield, in case he should be discovered as the culprit of the second bottle cap. "Throw this!" he suggested and armed her with somebody's abandoned shoe.
Curiously, for Sonya, the Russian seemed rather disengaged with the more dynamic events going on around her. She was looking up at the goings on with a thoughtful expression, muttering something philosophical, although quite what it was, one would have to speak her language, to know for certain. The half-demoness bringing knees up to chest, as she looked at her own open palms. Where the source of the groups' collective fumes now was, eluded her, which meant a bout of contemplating the meaning of life, the multi-verse and everything in between.
Rhiannon, too, was now looking at Purity and Hayden with suspicion. Especially since a bottle cap had fallen out of the witch's pocket, and another small stash of them was on the cushion where the researcher had been sitting. She considered going in for revenge, but the combined effect of alcohol, pot, and a contaminated cheese doodle sobered her. Instead, the brunette tossed the doodle under a chair and took a wilted-looking joint out of an ashtray. She collapsed against the armchair beside Sonya and took a hit.
"Actually," confessed she, with a conspiratorial look at the redhead, "Purity's kind-of a groaner. You'd think you couldn't hear that through drywall, but you'd be so wrong." She shared the bud and rested her head back on the cushion, allowing a pleasant fog to creep into her head.
"Oof." Connor looked at the pack of gum where it had landed on the floor, then brushed it out of the way before half-sitting, half-flopping onto the sofa, his weight denting the cushions as he watched Sonya watch her hands. His head felt like it was too big for his body, as though it might literally rise up from his neck and start to float across the room like a helium balloon. "I think I'm stoned." Saying it to no one in particular, brow furrowing with concentration as though that would prevent his skull from taking flight. He turned with a small effort towards Purity, tapping the witch on the shoulder. "Do you think I'm stoned?" he asked, having already forgotten the bottle-cap incident. "There's cotton inside my head right now."
The shoe from Hayden was thrown with force, and whizzed right on by Connor without so much as grazing him. It landed with a thud somewhere out in the hallway. "Now what, we ran out of stuff?" Purity ran her fingers through her hair thoughtfully, her glazed green eyes watching Connor intently, "Really?" The witch laughed quietly, almost to herself, "Head fluff." She was about to relax until she remembered that her make-shift seat was Hayden. Getting up she walked over to Rhiannon, prodding her upper arm with a finger tip, "And I heard that."
"I think... Be needs to..."
Not bothering to finish her sentence, Sonya half-lunged, half-flew herself onto the couch. A flap of her wings causing something to fall onto the floor, which startled her enough to immediately jump to feet and assume fighting stance, glancing this way and the other, out of paranoia. She was under attack! Was sure of it! Without anything leaping into the fray, however, she relented with a, "Shiiiiiiits..." Before flumping back down upon the furniture, face burying itself in a mound of cushions, before trying to awkwardly doggy-paddle her way through it, as if the small group was underwater.
"Nyet... Nyet dolphins," she spoke in fearful, if muffled tones. "Sends away! Sends away!"
Hayden was on the floor by the couch that was under attack. "Whoa!" He ducked beneath the thrashing of wings, like a person in a bat cave, who feared getting one hung in their hair. And by this point, his hair was already a rat's nest. When the worst had passed, and nothing explosive occurred, he blew out a breath of relief and came out from beneath his sheltering arms. "Christ, I thought she might really need to shit," he revealed.
Knowing precisely why his roommate feared dolphins, Hayden whispered, "Watch this," and grabbed a pillow in his large palm. He pushed it up against Sonya's leg and rocked it back and forth. Then there was a surprisingly accurate series of, "A-a-a-a-a," sea creature sounds.
Rhiannon dropped the spent joint in an ashtray and flopped out on the carpet. She blocked out the lamplight with her forearm. "I'm gonna be wrecked tomorrow," she moaned. There was a throw blanket on the back of the chair, which she reached up and yanked onto herself. When it unfurled, Mary Sue the cat rolled out and tore around the living room in a frenetic circle. Rhiannon settled into what looked like a comfortable, sprawled position.
"Kitty!" The Destroyer almost yelled the word, reached out in Mary Sue's direction as though to pull the animal close to him, but she eluded his grasp and he ended up falling halfway off the couch, just managing to get traction before he landed on his butt on the floor. He pushed back so that his spine aligned with the supporting cushion, and he watched with a myopic expression as Hayden started his dolphin impression. "Dolphin sex," he muttered, and that struck him as so unbearably hilarious that he sailed off into laughter, his hands covering his face as his narrow shoulders trembled with it. Yeah, he was stoned, all right. And like Rhiannon, he was going to be not much good for anything tomorrow. But right now, he was fine with that, mostly just because he was laughing too hard.
Purity walked around the table, her feet taking cautious steps as she felt so relaxed it was almost dreamlike. "Ah, that's where I left you..." Fingers plucked up the can of soda that she had abandoned earlier, bringing it to her lips the witch took a gulp before claiming a spot on the floor. One elbow rested on the corner of the table, her legs crossed, and she sighed. "Sea creatures are evil. Creepy evil." Dolphins and unicorns? Like her dreams weren't going to be fucked up enough tonight.
The sounds of rising panic could be heard from the couch, as Sonya practically squeaked in alarm, bucking and yelping at the phantom aquatic mammal, for fear of copulation. Although most of the details as to the specific nature of her employment with the Russian government's scheme to contain supernatural threats were largely secret, she had once drunkenly revealed to Hayden that some of it involved being told of how some navies, especially that of the United States, used dolphins and seals for marine base security. Quite whether she had been given some sort of counter-wildlife training was irrelevant, for Sonya had apparently read up on the Internet about the habits of what dolphins were known to get up to.
And it scared her. Mightily.
The battle between dry-humping cushion and Sonya's still-intact virginity ended in a quickly bolting clamber for the top of the couch; Sonya attempting to climb it out of sheer terror, before whirling on the would-be sexual intruder and blindly pummeling it with tiny, clenched fists, laying into the fluffy container of cloth, for all she was worth.
That was one cushion which was never going to molest anyone again...
The physical exertions had rendered the already-dizzy Sonya into a heap of panting, collapsed shadow of her formerly energetic self. With a drowsy, "Sonya be wins," the girl curled up on the space her face had been smeared against, just moments before.
Hayden stole the defeated pillow and stuffed it under his head. He didn't know how long he planned on being there, but he was unfit for driving home anytime soon, and the cab of his truck wasn't an appealing option. "I'm crashing on your floor," he said to no one in particular, folding arms over his chest and shutting his eyes. Periodically, he'd start laughing again, at nothing.
"You leave my cat alone," Rhiannon mumbled, lifting up an arm to point. Unfortunately the limb just flopped loosely, without much conviction. And then she was pretty much a goner.
Connor's laughter eventually died down to a series of chuckles and snorts, and he looked down at his feet where they rested on the floor. His stomach ached, the muscles complaining about the protracted hilarity, and he folded his arms across his chest as his eyes slipped shut. "Tired now." The tiny part of his brain that was still coherent was already dreading the morning. The Destroyer nodded off after a few minutes, slumping a little to the left as he discovered a light slumber. He might have mumbled something about unicorns before he went under, but was unlikely to remember it later.
Purity didn't hear any remark about dolphins, or cats, she heard nothing at all. With one arm flat across the table, and one leg awkwardly wrapped around the table leg, the witch's head rested on her bicep as she slept. There was no way of knowing what she was dreaming, the witch was undeniably out for the count, a small smile still tugging the corner of her lips the only sign of her lingering happiness.