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Does this really feel like P. Diddy?
Who:Fluffy and Dylan
Where: By and almost in the lake
When: Some time mid-afternoon
Fishy. Fluffy's first impression upon regaining a bit of her consciousness was that it smelled fishy, and she tasted a bit fishy too...maybe mixed with a little bit of vomit and a whole amalgam of things she did not remember but had certainly crossed her mouth last night. Sometimes she thought it was better not remembering.
She also felt her face slightly wet and sticky, glued to the ground; so much so that at first Fluffy could not open both her eyes, just the one she hadn't been lying on. And out of that eye, she saw water. It was still summer and yet she felt a slight breeze up her legs reminding her that she might not be wearing a lot of clothes - it was also possible that she was wearing none, but upon a quick tap of her hand over certain strategic spots of her body, Fluffy realized she was just wearing a dress that had ridden up God knew where to. At least she hadn't forgotten underwear this time. With effort she propped herself up on both hands and tried to get on her knees only to drop down again and roll onto her back, eyes blinking madly at the sun shining right into them as Fluffy moaned her displeasure. She felt stuff glued to her face but it wouldn't come out even if she scratched. At least it didn't smell like shit. It was probably glitter, though, judging by the state of her nails after scratching.
Looking to her side, she saw the water again and, obviously wondering how she had come to sleep here, realized she was on the margin of some river, or lake or...well, a natural source of water of sorts. And her head ached, and her throat ached, and her everything ached in unison as if to tell her "You really shouldn't do this" to which she would invariably respond "I always end up doing it again anyway." Fluffy sat on her feet, crossing her legs beneath her, and looked around for her clutch. At least that she hadn't lost this time - it was frequent to lose both her way and her belongings on a night like what last night seemed to have been like. She wondered briefly where Nicci was, and then decided she didn't really care right now. Instead of trying to call her friend she pulled out her cigarette pack and took the one that wasn't wet or moist, lighting it with eyes closed.
Fluffy sighed, almost moaned, in pleasure when she took in the first puff, and then decided it would be okay. It always was anyway.
Where: By and almost in the lake
When: Some time mid-afternoon
Fishy. Fluffy's first impression upon regaining a bit of her consciousness was that it smelled fishy, and she tasted a bit fishy too...maybe mixed with a little bit of vomit and a whole amalgam of things she did not remember but had certainly crossed her mouth last night. Sometimes she thought it was better not remembering.
She also felt her face slightly wet and sticky, glued to the ground; so much so that at first Fluffy could not open both her eyes, just the one she hadn't been lying on. And out of that eye, she saw water. It was still summer and yet she felt a slight breeze up her legs reminding her that she might not be wearing a lot of clothes - it was also possible that she was wearing none, but upon a quick tap of her hand over certain strategic spots of her body, Fluffy realized she was just wearing a dress that had ridden up God knew where to. At least she hadn't forgotten underwear this time. With effort she propped herself up on both hands and tried to get on her knees only to drop down again and roll onto her back, eyes blinking madly at the sun shining right into them as Fluffy moaned her displeasure. She felt stuff glued to her face but it wouldn't come out even if she scratched. At least it didn't smell like shit. It was probably glitter, though, judging by the state of her nails after scratching.
Looking to her side, she saw the water again and, obviously wondering how she had come to sleep here, realized she was on the margin of some river, or lake or...well, a natural source of water of sorts. And her head ached, and her throat ached, and her everything ached in unison as if to tell her "You really shouldn't do this" to which she would invariably respond "I always end up doing it again anyway." Fluffy sat on her feet, crossing her legs beneath her, and looked around for her clutch. At least that she hadn't lost this time - it was frequent to lose both her way and her belongings on a night like what last night seemed to have been like. She wondered briefly where Nicci was, and then decided she didn't really care right now. Instead of trying to call her friend she pulled out her cigarette pack and took the one that wasn't wet or moist, lighting it with eyes closed.
Fluffy sighed, almost moaned, in pleasure when she took in the first puff, and then decided it would be okay. It always was anyway.