Thursday: December/18/08
Who: Frankie and Lyle When: Thursday night Where: Lyle's apartment What: SILLY FUN! Note: incomplete.. doing this via AIM
Frankie needed a mood boost, and it seemed impossible for her to be upset around Lyle. Something about him made her happy. She was able to forget most of her shit and just have a good time. That was beyond necessary right now. After putting up an away message, she threw on some jeans, her favorite Blondie t-shirt, and a zip up hoodie. Shoving her keys and cell phone in a pocket, and grabbing a bottle of vodka to hide inside the hoodie, she set off for Lyle's room. She was feeling better even as she knocked on his door.
Lyle felt awesome. He'd been drinking for days now, and the best part of it was that Fisher had no idea. It was so excellent! His brother had stopped in a few times, checking on him, but he had no idea. And why would he? It wasn't like Fisher had ever engaged him in conversation, or tried to anymore. His brother was just around from obligation. So morbid curiosity and genuine indifference had made him wonder how many days in a row he could be drunk. So far, six days.
When Frankie knocked, Lyle had just swallowed down the last of the can of Red Bull and vodka he'd mixed, tossing the can across the living room and into the sink. At least he was out of his room right now. Pausing his game (Ocarina of Time on the Wii, kicking it old school), he jogged over to the door and opened it, stepping aside to let Frankie enter.
Frankie wasn't expecting this version of Lyle. The last she'd seen him, he was well groomed, polite, and most definitely not drunk. Right now he looked like a frat boy on a bender. "Looks like the shower hasn't happened yet," she teased. At least he didn't smell bad, even though he sorta looked like shit. She walked inside and looked around, seeing that his apartment was just as big of a disaster. Yep, definitely a frat house. "And the maid must be on vacation." Frankie was a messy girl, but nothing like this.
The comment about the maid made Lyle smile a bit, shaking his head. Yeah, maybe the place needed a bit of tidying, but it wasn't as bad as it had been earlier. The paper trash had gone into the basket at least. But since he had company, Lyle started picking up bottles and cans, chucking them into the recycle bin to clear the floor space. At the very least the middle of the room should be clean. While in the kitchen, he grabbed the memo pad and the pencil from the counter by the phone, jotting down a quick note for Frankie. Sorry about the mess. WOW is distracting as hell.
Frankie quickly shook her hands out in front of her. "No, no, I wasn't asking you to clean. Seriously. I'm a slob, and this is your place. Put a big pig pen in the middle of the room for all I care. It's cool." She hoped she hadn't come off as a harpy with that little joke. Still, Frankie smiled when he scribbled a quick note of apology. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and ruffled his messy hair. "I feel the same way about the Sims. God, I get sucked into that game like it's my job. CRAZY!"
Dude, the Sims! Lyle gave her the look, the 'Oh my GOD I know!' look, because half his college career had been spent forcing little simulated people to do his bidding. That shit was dangerous. That was half the reason he'd never taken up World of Warcraft before, but now, why not? He had no life to speak of.
With the place presentable, he felt the drinking could commence. Heading into the kitchen, he grabbed a few glasses from the cupboard (actually they were Pom jars, but they got used as glasses) and set them out, looking through the fridge for juice. Most people didn't just do straight vodka.
Frankie was a Sims addict. She rarely let herself play though, well, maybe a bit lately because her life was pointless like Lyle's. Why the hell not waste the hours away getting those people to WOO HOO like there was no tomorrow? But that was neither here nor now. She had someone to hang with! And it wasn't someone with a totally awesome, happy life, boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever. It was someone else going through a rough patch who didn't expect anything at all of her, didn't lecture her, didn't do anything to upset the fun. Fun was definitely on her agenda, so she didn't wait for him to return with glasses. Frankie opened the full bottle of vodka that had been stuffed into her hoodie and took a large swig straight from the bottle. "Oh, sorry, did you want some too?" she teased.
Man, a girl who drank from the bottle? Hardcore. Smirking, he held out a glass, dutifully waiting for it to be filled. He had some other stuff, whiskey and scotch and such, but that could wait until this was gone. She had brought it, he didn't want to be rude.
Glass full, he clinked his glass with the bottle, then tipped it back and chugged. Liver be damned, who gave a shit. Life sucked anyway.
Lyle's liver was safe, same with Frankie's. He was a vampire, and her body processed alcohol differently than a human body did. It was fuel, much like food was. She clinked with gusto before taking another long sip from the bottle. "You're fun even as a drunk. Is there ever a time when you're not fun?"
The entire glass vanished before Lyle came up for air, proverbially speaking. was he ever not fun? Surely there had to be a time. He thought a moment, wiping his mouth on his arm, until finally something came to mind. Grabbing out the notebook, he wrote sloppily, his letters loopy and a little ridiculous. When I'm taking a shit I guess. Never had company tho ^_^
Frankie actually snorted from the laugh his joke evoked. She giggled with delight after that, holding her belly with one hand, and the bottle of vodka in her other. "You're crazy! Which is why it's so totally unfair that you won't let me be your roomie. We'd have this kind of fun all the time. Maybe even pillow fights while dressed in skimpy underwear," she teased before sipping some more vodka.
Frankie's joke, in turn, made Lyle snort, his hand scribbling fast on the notepad. A few things got crossed out, being too damn illegible. You would make my brother cry in your underwear, which would be hilarious, but then he'd hide under my bed and never go away.
"Sooo.. that's a no to bra and panties and pillows?" she asked, still giggling. "There go my plans for the night. You're gonna have to come up with something for us to do. And, no, I will not watch you play WOW." She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the sofa, stretching her legs out on his coffee table after kicking off her shoes. It didn't seem like Lyle would mind.
Making a face, as though in grave disappointment, Lyle shook his head. Oh, it was such a shame, no bra and panty pillow fights. Oh well. Guess more drinking would have to do. Letting himself be dragged, the vampire flopped down on the couch, trying to think of what he and Frankie could do together. Video games maybe? That proved successful for silent entertainment. A movie? His head was a little clouded over, making thinking kind of tough. Finally he shrugged, grabbing the remote control to the television and handing it to Frankie. But in turn, he took the bottle from her and refilled his glass. Tit for tat.
Frankie gave him time to think, taking little sips of her vodka as she waited. After a few moments, there was a remote control in her hand. "Dangerous move, mister. Brace yourself.. because you're about to lose your balls watching a Lifetime movie!" Without further warning, Frankie flipped on one of MANY movies staring Valerie Bertinelli. "YES!"
Lyle sat a moment, waiting for Frankie to make her move, his face expressionless as she did. Looking at the screen, he furrowed his brow, writing something on his notepad and holding it out for the sprite to read.
Seen it. Three times.
Frankie bust out laughing again and gave the remote back. "Change it then. I'm up for whatever. Well, not whatever. No sad stuff. Find something funny for us to watch. Oooh, or something we can create a drinking game out of!"
Oho, if Frankie wanted a drinking game, Lyle could definitely provide her with one. He and his fraternity brothers had spent too many nights finding bad movies and making them into hardcore drinking games. Scanning the channels, his eyes lit up as he came across the perfect target- Bring It On. With a wolfish grin, he set down the remote, scribbling in the notebook while the opening credits rolled. Drink: -When someone makes a cheer pun (cheerocracy) -When dude cheerleaders get ripped on -When a new squad gets introduced
Frankie LOVED this movie! She'd always wanted to be a cheerleader, but she was too afraid to try out because of her wings. Plus, they had lied to the school about her having a bad back so that no one would ever touch it. Such a shame. She was good! "I'll agree to all those terms and add one. After each drink, we have to do a little cheer ourselves.. and I will totally kick your ass at it."
Well that was cheating! Of course she was gonna win, she was a chatty little chatterbox, and he didn't say anything. Fixing a frown on her, he shook his head, though he added (via notebook) You can feel free to do backflips and junk for me if you wanna. I won't mind. ;)
Frankie pushed aside the suggestive comment, figuratively and literally with a little shove of the notepad. "You don't have to do the vocal part of the cheering, but I am gonna teach ya some moves." She got off the sofa and set down the vodka bottle. Frankie was feeling a little tipsy already, but she could move with ease still. She moved into a space that offered her room to stretch her arms and legs. "Okay, so this is a herkie jump," she informed him before performing the move. "Easy, right?" It wasn't, especially not in jeans, but oh well. Frankie stripped off her hoodie and let it fall to the floor. "I should'a worn something different."
Lyle stayed put on the couch, watching Frankie as though clearly she might be crazy. Which, in truth, she might well have been. Not only was she getting into the intermediate stuff right off (yes, he knew a few things about cheerleading), she expected him to copy her. In the middle of the living room. Definitely not wise or safe. Not to mention, Fisher could (possibly but unlikely) walk in any second, and that would be interesting to explain. Shaking his head, Lyle indicated that there was no way in hell he was doing this. And then, pointing at the screen, he indicated that they'd missed a cue, and he tossed back a shot right from the bottle, handing it to Frankie.
"You're not being fun!" she declared, but as he offered her the bottle again, she didn't hesitate to grab it and take a quick swig. "Ready? OK!" She said as she handed the bottle back. Frankie marched backward as though getting into formation, clapping her hands and nodding her head as she did so. She stood still for just a moment before starting the cheer, which involved hip wiggling, more clapping, and an ass slap for effect.
Shoulder shaking in silent chuckles, Lyle watched the display, shaking his head a little. This girl was nutso. But, she did a fine job raising the spirits, so he applauded her dutifully, giving a thumbs up. Well done! he wrote on his notepad, dedicating an entire page to Frankie's praise.
Frankie was bonkers. But she was also sweet and could be really fun to be around. She didn't get to act like this much anymore. Lyle seemed the only one capable of bringing the old Frankie to life. She just couldn't be sad when he was around. She lit up like the Fourth of July when he scribbled the note to her. "I want that one. Tear it off. Gonna put it on my mini fridge to look at the next time I'm sad." She flopped down beside him on the couch once more, taking a sip even though the game didn't call for it.