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Laura Moon ([info]spitandviolets) wrote in [info]mirage_rpg,
@ 2009-02-05 16:23:00

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Entry tags:andy gallagher, complete, day 31, laura moon

Who: Laura Moon and Andy Gallagher
What: Insomnia!
When: Day 31, very late night
Where: Laura's room, C112.
Rating: PG-13 for language and gory details
Status: Complete


If there was one thing that Mirage already knew about Laura, it was that she no longer had any concept of or any care for the concept of time. It had not supplied the undead woman with a clock. It didn't matter. When the sun was down, Laura was active and the rest of the world was not. When the sun was up, well, sometimes she didn't have a choice, and others she debated with herself as to whether or not she should be doing something. Thus, it was very dark, and possibly late or early.

Laura did not remember her own wake and funeral very well. She was not there, exactly. It was a distant memory, like watching herself from across the room. She remembered when her best friend spat on her face, and she remembered the violets. She also remembered the pose in which she'd been put to rest. At the moment, she was practicing it on her bed, bored, as usual, and cold, as usual. Her body was rigid, laying on her back on the plush, black coverlet, arms crossed over her chest, hands folded. Since she did not need to breathe, she was not breathing. Her eyes were closed but she did not sleep. Her hair was fanned out around her. Only the outfit, a pair of jeans and a black tanktop, which made her look even paler than usual, was out of place for a wake.

Having just retired from her computer, she was expecting Andy. When he would arrive, however, was uncertain. Drunk people ran on their own schedule. When she got drunk, when she was alive, she drank a lot. That, in fact, had been the death of her. Literally. Maybe she'd try to brighten Andy's mood with that story. The likelihood that he wanted to hear about her death, however, was probably not high. L was unique in that respect. Still, maybe she'd have another friend, someone else who wouldn't mind that she was dead and cold.

Focusing on the movements of the lights of humans, she managed to zero in on Andy's with only minor difficulty. Rising from the bed as a zombie from the grave, Laura sauntered to the door, opening it just as her guest arrived. She said nothing, holding the door open for him, dark eyes studying his face.



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[info]brain_ninja
2009-02-05 05:59 pm UTC (link)
Andy closed his eyes, feeling a bit nauseous. It occurred to him that a slice or two of bread to soak up some of the alcohol would probably do him well, but the thought of food only made him feel sicker. He was definitely praying to the porcelain Gods by the end of the night, he could already tell. The room stopped moving and he felt like he was floating. "Oh fuck..." he breathed, letting his head drop forward. "Jesus, what the fuck..."

He felt numb from the booze and to him, her tight grip really only felt like he was being guided awkwardly and then she set him down in a chair across the room. Andy leaned his head back against it and could feel it pounding with the oncoming of what he predicted was going to be a killer fucking migraine. "You're so cold," he said stupidly. "Should turn up the heat," he suggested. "Thanks," he added almost as an afterthought in response to her having moved him away from the door.

Through bleary eyes, he looked around the room. It was dark and candle lit. Ah, shit...this looked like the room of some chick wanting to set a mood he wasn't anywhere near. "Nice digs," he said, though, rather than point it out to her.

She asked if he needed something and he started to shake his head. Oh, bad idea. He groaned. "Actually...some coffee or water or something wouldn't suck," he admitted. And then she asked what had him so fucked up and told him he looked like crap.

"Yeah, well, I feel like crap," he replied lazily, putting a hand on his face and rubbing his temples with his first finger, middle finger, and thumb, spread apart. "Just, this fuckin' chick. I'll get over it," he replied to answer her question. No, he didn't want to go into it with Laura, too. He'd rehashed it enough, he thought, for one night.

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[info]spitandviolets
2009-02-05 06:25 pm UTC (link)
Laura looked around as he complimented the room. "If you couldn't tell, I don't like lights very much," she commented. "It seems that the planet agrees with me." His comment about her being cold was amusing. "I could turn up the heat, but, I assure you, it wouldn't do me any good. It might even do more harm than good." She shuddered at the thought of accelerated decomposition. She was going to make her last batch of Norn water last for as long as possible. That last drink, back in West Virginia, had frozen her insides in an unforgettable way. That was not an experience she wanted to revisit anytime soon without total necessity.

"Did you get drunk or did you get drunk?" Getting up, she made her way to the bathroom, grabbing a cup on her way. She ran some water in the sink, making sure that it was cold, before returning to him. She set the glass on the coffee table. Hopefully he wouldn't knock it over. If he did, the chances that mold would grow were slim to none. "Sorry I don't have any coffee. I'm a water kind of gal. Suppose it goes back to my star sign. I was born October 27. Scorpio."

Reseating herself, she studied him carefully. A chick, huh? Shrugging, she nodded. Didn't sound so bad, and someone who didn't know any better would probably press him for more information. Fortunately, Laura knew that people didn't get that drunk without serious motivation, and that motivation was usually something they didn't like to discuss.

"I'm not one to give lectures. I know for a fact, though, that drinking yourself senseless leads to death. Even if it's just once in a while. You never know when it's coming. It's a dangerous force, and it's ruled by karma and fate, both of which we are all victims of. You can do what you want. I believe in going your own way. I will feel better, though, knowing that I told you the truth and gave you a warning. Drinking might not kill people every time, but it certainly can set in motion some very unsavory chains of events. An emergency room is a very cold and lonely place to die."

There. No mentioning of the chick. Laura was very capable of letting things go. The apathy of the dead was a blessing. She was glad that she didn't have to make him relive his sorrows again, though the flicker of her heart wanted to know in order to make it better.

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