riley casteling is angrboða, not happyboða (griefbringer) wrote in monte_logs, @ 2012-07-12 10:40:00 |
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Current mood: | drunk |
Current music: | Ed Sheeran |
Entry tags: | angrboða |
i wanna be drunk when i wake up, on the right side of the wrong bed... [narrative]
Characters: Riley/Angrboða (griefbringer), mentions of Aimon/Cain (killingfields) & Jon/Heimdallr (heimdalr)
Date/Time: Thursday, 07/12, around 2:30am
Location: Cain's apartment
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angrboða's charming self and mannerisms
Summary: After some drunken contemplation -- the best kind, amirite? -- 'boða sort of takes Cain's advice.
For someone who considered herself so strong, 'boða was learning that she really was a massive 'fraidy-cat when it came to matters of the heart. Cain had given her some fantastic advice, but for the moment she was too hung up on exactly what having a talk with Jon would entail to feel like getting over herself just yet. Instead, Riley wanted to remain in her current plastered state, watching movies, pretending she wasn't thinking about stupid emotions and how they were wrecking her life.
Emotions were a frightening thing, as far as she was concerned. They confused her, made her do and say things that she knew could come with regrets, and just generally made life the type of mess that she had no idea how to clean up, which was why she avoided the deeper ones as much as possible. Certain ones -- anger, hunger, and even lust -- were easy. You could act on them, getting them out of your system, and call it a day. So long as you were careful they didn't come with lasting side effects, or make you have to reevaluate your entire life. They didn't have you effectively hiding out at a friends' house wasting the vast majority of your paycheck on alcohol so you can sleep without having ridiculous fucking nightmares about things like the future and the awkward realizations that you allowed someone to impact your life enough that you suspect you'd be legitimately bereft without them. Most of all, they weren't feelings that had hidden meanings behind them. They were nice and simple, just how she liked things best.
Admitting that she was convinced that what she was feeling for Jon -- for Heimdallr -- had both sides of Riley -- the human woman who had a shitty upbringing and only bad experiences with love outside of the familial type she shared with her brother, and the jötunn best known for being Loki's mistress and mother to his three children -- incredibly uncomfortable. She was able to admit what she was feeling to everyone but Jon, it seemed, and deep down she knew that it was because she didn't want to scare him off. It didn't take a genius to conjecture the various reasons that could happen -- Jon was younger, he was rarely serious, and their relationship was barely past its infancy which was far too soon for anyone with half a brain to be thinking about things like moving in together or the potential of offspring. Truth to be told Riley wasn't even sure she wanted all of that -- she just wanted him.
It was after watching Scott Pilgrim vs. The World and a few too many glasses of espresso and chocolate cake vodka that Riley got the bright idea to text Jon -- her rationale being that it was too early in the morning to call but waiting would give her a chance to lose her alcohol-bolstered nerve -- about her state of mind. Sure, Cain had said she should be doing this face to face, but the meeting would have to be set up somehow, so why not in a series of potentially regrettable texts?
She figured she'd start with an apology -- 'Sorry for acting like a twat lately' -- and it devolved from there.
'I miss you'
'Can we talk?
'Fuck it, I should quit being a pussy'
'But you might be weird if I say it'
'Okay, here goes'
'Your moms, Reeve, Jazz, and Aimon know I'm pretty sure I'm in lesbians with you'
'Shit, that was so fucking not appropriate of me'
'It was a joke'
'Fuck, you might not get that joke'
A pause, and then --
'Have you seen Scott Pilgrim'
'That movie is fucking awesome'
'I wanna be cool like Ramona Flowers'
'But I'm more like Knives Chau, without the hyper'
For another few minutes the steady stream of texts stop, but then comes --
'I should tell you I've been drinking'
'Espresso vodka mixed with chocolate cake vodka is fucking glorious'
'I drank two bottles'
'Tried to save you some but forgot. Sorry'
'I suck at this'
'Fucking forget it'
'This is stupid'
'I drank too much'
'I'ma pass out'
'Or watch Thor'
'Both'
Realization that she'd said too much kicked in --
'Shit... ignore all those messages'
Semi-confident that he'd heed her last message, thanks to the power of the drunk-brain, Riley switched out the movie, took another swig of her drink, curled up against Cain's side on the couch, and eventually drifted off into an uneven sleep.