InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "MOAR ASYLUMS"

whistle_willow (whistle_willow) wrote in ecorridor_rpg,
@ 2009-03-08 23:18:00

Entry tags:

*greenhouses, a.yves, w. longbottom

Who: Art and Open

What: Drunkely cursing her luck

Where: Out by the Green Houses

When: Almost after curfew

Rating: PG (she feels like swearing)

Art was drunk and pissed off as you can get. Not only had she fought with Claire, she had been left petrified on the floor for hours until the spell had worn off, sobbing to herself and furious with the god darn lil' bitch girl. She felt bloody stupid to say little, a god darn dumb fuck and she had no desire to encounter anyone, not even Wes. In fact he was the person she wanted to avoid the most, Claire's words still echoed in her mind and of meeting him she might just burst in tears. She was a hopeless romantic, but she couldn't have stand the sight of him, and she knew he'd would hardly take her side, or anyone's side. Plus she wasn't going to run straight into his arms after the fight.

So she sat alone outside a Green House, leaning her back on the wall, her knees pressed against her chest, her mouth continuously murmuring curse words against the world. She simply sat there enjoying her booze avidly, taking a sip each time she recalled the fight. Of course following this precepts she had gone seriously drunk, and merely swung the bottle to her lips from time to time, pressing her eyes closed each time the firewhiskey burned her throat. Art refused to cry more than she already had, she was no bloody crybaby and she didn't want to give Claire any satisfaction, but she was too tired both mentally and physically to plan any sort of comeback. So she just necked the alcohol next bottle, tasting the strong flavor of the liquor and rejoicing on the possibility of unawareness. What was that verse?

“Thank your god that I’m not aware, and thank god that I just don’t care”

She was seriously damaged and felt ridiculous, and she could do nothing about it. She had already screamed and kicked the wall, already banged her head and cursed to hell, now she was just in a calm swirl down to the bottom of her feelings. However one thing was sure, her mind was set, there was going to be trouble.

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wassupwes
2009-03-09 03:44 am UTC (link)

Unfortunately for Art, the one person she really wanted to avoid was the one person now walking towards the greenhouses. He was in a stormy mood, the full moon dragging ever closer. Wes was horny, frustated, angry at Claire, angry at Scorpius and, though he wouldn't admit it, lonely. Part of him was looking forward to changing, just because he'd be able to spend mindless time with Caiden and possibly Gemma.

He stuffed his hands into his pocket looking forward to smoking himself to sleep. He needed to relax and weed was probably the only thing that would calm him down with the moon a day away. He paused as he came around the corner, stumbling on a hunched figure, the heavy smell of firewhiskey burning the back of his nose slightly, his senses heightened. He blinked and studied the student, trying to figure out who-"Art?" He questioned in surprise, a little taken aback that she was here and, by the smell of things, quite drunk, "what're you doing?"

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whistle_willow
2009-03-09 02:53 pm UTC (link)

Fuck! Karma had to be a bloody mother fuck though she didn’t know what she had done to deserve it all. Honestly she was no saint, but banging a boy shouldn’t come with all this trouble. She’d only had a little shag, was it so god darn awful?

Art merely cursed herself to hell at the sight of Wes, who didn’t seem that cheery either. She began to feel trapped, Wes seemed quite exasperated and she had nowhere to run, nor any excuse for her present state, not that she had to justify herself to none. Of being a little more sober Art might have got up and try to flee, but taking in consideration that just by turning around she was already feeling rather dizzy, that was no option. Instead she brushed her sleeve to her eyes, whipping away the tears that still dripped from them, and tried to fix her voice so it wouldn’t come out like a drunken sob.

She assumed her words would come out tangled so she only dared to say a rather dragged “Heey”

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wassupwes
2009-03-09 03:15 pm UTC (link)

"Er..hey," Wes replied, looking down at her. He'd seen her pretty wasted before, but there was a difference between getting wasted with a bunch of friends and getting drunk alone. He was a little pissed that he'd stumbled upon her when all he wanted was to go get stoned, but, well, now he was here. what kind of guy would he be to abandon a damsel in distress. Still...

He stepped around her and slid down against the wall next to her, "What's wrong?" He asked, reaching out to stroke his hand over hers, attempting to smoothly pry the bottle from her hand. Well, when in Rome!
"Someone fucking you around? I can go sort 'em out if you want?" He offered. He didn't offer that very often, it was mainly because right now he was fiery enough to punch anyone in the face.

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whistle_willow
2009-03-09 10:34 pm UTC (link)

Art really just wanted for Wes to go away, before she ended up doing some pathetic thing, like burst into tears; or accuse Claire; or even worst kiss him, which was the most dangerous one because she knew perfectly that Claire had spoken truly, to Wes it was some little fuck, when to her it was becoming something quite bigger. Still she’d have to make an effort and keep still. He really seemed out of it, and she didn’t want to be a nuisance, much less a burden, but somehow his company was making her feel uneasy.

She considered various answers, but really how immature would it be to plainly point out Claire and blame it all on her? She was sick of being the eternal damsel in distress, and running to Wes and tell her out wouldn’t help her either. She resumed to attempt a decent answer that didn’t involve that much talking.

“Jst…beeen, ‘aard day”

Art was absolutely put off and totally drunk, and wasn’t planning on getting any sober; so when Wes tried to remove her lovely bottle of firewhiskey she tried to imitate his smoothness and gain the bottle back, failing rather miserably, she nearly knocked it over, and brushed Wes hand more than necessary in the process.

“Can I pwease geti baack?” Her communicating skills were seriously damaged by booze, and she probably looked seriously pathetic asking for her bottle, but it wasn’t like she wanted to stop, actually when she’d heard the steps around the Green House she had secretly hoped it would be one of those misfit boys that are eternally on heavy drugs, perhaps Patrick would be nice enough to get her something strong, he seemed to enjoy watching people in pain.

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wassupwes
2009-03-10 12:00 pm UTC (link)

"Err," Wes held the bottle in his hand and looked at her. No, well, he didn't really need to look at her, it was clear how she was slumped and slurring and the heavy scent of alcohol that she was more than drunk enough, "No. You've had enough."

Being the good, kind and loving friend he was, Wes pressed the bottle to his lips and tipped his head back, draining a large chunk of the remaining liquid in several wincing gulps. Oh chugging Fire Whiskey was never advised really. He coughed, fairly certain his cheeks were colouring heavily against the warm spreading in his belly. Still, he was saving a friend! Yeah, that was Wes' excuse and he was sticking to it.

"Art. You can't stay here. It's after curfew, we're gonna get caught and the aurors will lay some fucking huge detention on us for being out. And I'm not leaving you, now when there's a fucking killer around and whatever," He told her. He bit his lip and glanced at the castle. Both her common room and his own were WAY up in the towers and..well.. he didn't fancy dragging a drunk peer up all those stairs quite frankly.
"C'mon, you can come with me," He said grudgingly, climbing to his feet. He clutched the bottle carefully and offered her his hand to pull her to her feet. Wes didn't much like taking people to the greenhouse he'd re-appropriated from his Dad, it was nice to have a secret place, but he was fairly certain Art was too drunk to find her way back through the moving castle, and he doubted she'd really bother moving from where she was.

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whistle_willow
2009-03-10 01:21 pm UTC (link)

In other circumstances Art might have protested, but for a start it was Wes, she wasn’t going to fight him, truth be told she was rather too wasted to go against anyone right now, and much less the boy that had implicitly caused her current state. So she just bowed her head, feeling inner tickles at the edges along with a soft pleasant nausea, like vertigo but somehow partially enjoyable.

Art couldn’t help a smile spreading across her cheeks at the sight of his reaction to the whiskey, she was a pretty hard drinker and whiskey never did much to her, unless ingested in great quantities like now. But it was lovely, the image of the boy’s face flushing red with the heat.

She was tempted to answer with an evasive ‘whatever’ and refuse to go anywhere, in fact she almost did, but the possibility of staying with Wes a little longer was to precious to blow it away. She took his hand and tried to impulse herself up, but the second she stood her world began to swirl around, and her whole body swung in the air, threatening to stumble to the ground.

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wassupwes
2009-03-10 01:32 pm UTC (link)

When Wes got her onto her feet, he was sure they were both ok, but then, just like that, she wobbled and tipped. Wes dove forwards without thinking, catching her before she fell, bundling her into his arms.
"Shit, careful Arty," he muttered, pulling her arm around his shoulders. With one arm around her waist, the other clutching her hand around his neck, Wes led her through the rows of greenhouses to the dark, empty-looking one he'd taken for his own. He found the charmed window panel and muttered his password, assuming Art was too far gone to remember any of this come morning. The window melted away to reveal a tunnel of leaves.
"Can you crawl through?" He asked, though he knew most drunks could crawl when they put their mind to it. He lowered her to the ground and led the way into his greenhouse, filled with colourful, magic flowers, rare plants, tiny origami animals and butterflies flittering around like wildlife and large lumpy cushions in the center of it all. Wes stood up and dusted himself off, turning to see if Art needed any help.

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whistle_willow
2009-03-11 08:34 pm UTC (link)

The mere contact drove Art mad, the simple meet of his arms around her; it was enough to make her go crazy, she leant closer into his arms and let her head drop to his chest, in a drunken gesture for pleasure.

Art would have normally felt quite uncomfortable with “Arty”, but this was Wes, he made it sound fucking nice, like if he was calling her ‘darling, dear? Or one of the sort. So she was pissed, she could still fantasize for at least one more night. She was pretty much hanging from his shoulder, with him bearing most of her weight, she felt bad about being such a literal burden, but on the other hand the physical contact.

She heard him whisper a few words against a window panel, and it was probably her imagination, but the crystal melted away, vanishing from their path. She just nodded to his question and got to it, despite the terrible nausea taking over her, she made her best to crawl over the leaves, making sure to follow him, and to keep going, though she knew she might just puke at any second.

Her Jaw dropped when Wes moved apart from the tunnel exit and revealed a fantastic spot, a place she would have never pictured inside the greenhouse. The flowers were rather exotic and plants seemed to be wilder there, blasting colors of red and blue all around, and the origami animals!! She felt a bitter pang, remembering the origami butterfly on Claire’s bag, along with everything that had come after, still she shook her head and took in the sight.

“Whas this plaace” Art managed a more decent talking this time, even though she was feeling a bit overwhelmed and sick.

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wassupwes
2009-03-13 09:16 am UTC (link)

"Er, my greenhouse," Wes said, hoping to avoid too many questions. She was the second person he had let into his greenhouse now, and he wanted to avoid having the place stormed if anyone found out about it. Still, they were in their last year now, it probably didn't matter.

"Here come sit here," He have pushed, half led her to a cushion because he was sure she was going to collapse or throw up or something, "If you need to puke, here use this." He pushed a watering can into her hands. Once he was sure she was safely down he set about tending to the almost fully grown marijuana plants tucked near the back of his greenhouse, growing happily under a little ball of conjured light. Once he was sure they were ok he found himself a joint he had rolled earlier and sat down on a cushion next to Art.

"You want anything?" He asked, cocking his head, joint held neatly between his lips, smoke curling lazily from the end, "Drink or something. Water? Wanna tell me what's got you feeling so shitty?" It was a stab, but Wes was a little curious to why his friend was attempting to drink herself unconscious. Of course, being a guy, he wouldn't push the matter. It was her choice to tell him or not, but it didn't stop him wondering.

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whistle_willow
2009-03-16 12:12 am UTC (link)

Wes was being most nice and caring, and though in the back of her mind Art perfectly understood that it was just him helping out a mate, she couldn’t help raising her expectations to the brown of his eyes. Art didn’t even wonder how he’d got his greenhouse or anything, in her state those were nimieties. Right now all that mattered were his arms leading her towards the cushions, his smile waving oddly at her, he wasn’t exactly too comfortable with everything but to Art, him being kind was enough to have her on the moon.

She was doing her best not to puke but her nausea was ruling her thoughts, and she could only try to focus on something else, like Wes ass as he turned around, what? She was still a girl, drunk or sober, indifferent or in love. Fuck had she got to the “in love” point? She seriously prayed Merlin, not! On the other hand Wes presence had butterflies racing down her spine…

His question did make her uncomfortable, partly because the answer held his name, and partly because it seemed a little silly now; getting all drunk and sobish for a row with a mate and the little love triangle. But it had been really annoying, and it was like it all had been building up, and “Claire was a bitch” fuck she said that out loud? Did she? Fuck…
Her only hope was her mumbly voice would hide it out. Well all said and done, the girl had been an utter bitch to her.

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wassupwes
2009-03-16 11:53 am UTC (link)

However quietly she might've muttered it, Claire's name was like an instant attention grabber for Wes, and her perked up, pausing mid-puff before realising and exhaling a rather ragged, smoky breath.
"What? Claire?" He asked, surprised. What on earth could Claire have done or said to make Art want to drink like this? He edged a little closer, offering a stoner's arm of comfort across her shoulders. He would've offered her the joint as well, but she was wasted enough as it was and he didn't fancy making her paralytic on top of it with additional narcotics, "What did she do? You know what? She's been a proper bitch this week. She must be on the rag or something.." He grumbled, thinking back to how many times he'd been blown off, barely bothering to wonder if he'd offend Art with talks of her 'rag'.

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whistle_willow
2009-03-17 12:26 am UTC (link)

Art’s stomach tingled with Wes sudden reply, the mention of Claire’s name, the glow on his eyes when mentioning it, perhaps it was all mental but by the moment he passed his arm around her, it was obvious she could no longer resist the urge to puke out. She only had time to reach for the watering can as she felt every inch of her nausea leaving her body, along with a considerable amount of booze she had ingested, the acids burning her throat on their way back. On a way it was pure bliss, the conversation was vanished away by her sickness, both physical and mental.

She launched herself forwards, trying to avoid staining the boy’s clothing, as her stomach kept pumping the remains of the firewhiskey that traveled up her throat and out of her mouth, now into the fresh dirt of the greenhouse. Art knelt in the soil, with her scratched out palms holding her still, barely, with her condition getting worse by the minute. She could feel hot tears sliding down her cheeks, with her guts blowing out everything inside her, her sorry emotions included in the package. Despite realizing all the alcohol inside her she was getting dizzier and her vision most blurry, pray on oblivion and perhaps Wes would even forget what she had just said.

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wassupwes
2009-03-19 01:21 pm UTC (link)

Wes moved back instantly as started throwing up, rather selfishly looking to avoid getting any of her vomit anywhere near his clothes.
"Oh..gross," he remarked with a frown and pulled his wand from his pocket. When she was done with his watering can Wes carefully poking his wand through the top and muttered a quick, "Evanesco." the contents of the can (previously the contents of Art's stomach) vanished but Art apparently had no problem replacing it, this time over the floor. Nice. Wes took a drag of his joint and tried to ignore the sounds of her retching, his own stomach none-too-pleased with the sounds. he glanced around and found an empty bottle, which he filled with water from the tip of his wand.
"Here, Art, drink this," he offered, "and stop puking yeah?"

Despite appearing pretty uncaring and annoyed, Wes was a little worried. Drinking yourself stupid with friends was one thing but alone was another story entirely. And Claire had been the trigger? that was even more concerning. He stroked his hand over her back gently, hesitantly, hoping she was done and that the sharp scent of bile wouldn't hang around after he'd vanished the puddle she'd made on the floor.

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whistle_willow
2009-03-23 12:05 am UTC (link)

Art felt rather blue and insulted by Wes carelessness, she was throwing her guts up and he seemed just to cool for the situation. Maybe she was just drunk but it bugged her down, in her mind this scene was with him holding her hair back and kissing her forehead, but then again she wouldn’t really want that, it was part of that laid back attitude that got her hooked up on him.

Eventually she finished releasing all the contents in her stomach, still trembling and sweating cold, but at least it had stopped, screw the booze, she barely registered the way the puke vanished from the soil. Yet the warmth of Wes palm colliding softly to her back was most registered, and she instantly grabbed the water, hoping its arrival to her stomach wouldn’t cause any more damage.

At least their conversation was long forgotten and she was tired enough to just fall asleep right there, perhaps it was too much to ask but could this silly nonsense drinking go unmentioned? Couldn’t it all simply vanish and make her stay in the castle more pleasant? Less conflictive?

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[[short - sorry!]]

wassupwes
2009-03-24 11:38 am UTC (link)

Well, at least she'd stopped throwing up! That was a good thing. He pushed away the fact that he now regretted bringing her to his little hide away and rubbed her back with a little more vigour whilst using the other hand to reach for his joint where it lay abandoned. Another lungful of weed and Wes didn't really care all that much about the slight tinge of vomit in the air.

"Better?" He asked casually, pulling her back a little (grateful that she didn't have anything around her mouth) and smiled softly, rather stoned now, "Better out than in y'know?" He almost felt like throwing his hand across her shoulders, and, after slow, careful deliberation, he decided that it might help her feel less sicky, so he did it, giving her a platonic squeeze.

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