(no subject)
Title: Perchance to Wake
Theme: #10 "Dive"
Claim: Franky
Words: 1481
Rating: PG
Warnings: drinking, swearing
The world was a haze of mixed colors and blurred lines, all smooth and warm and friendly in the dark night. Kokoro leaned back against the wall, smiling at all of it and bottle limp in her hand. This was so much better than everything else.
It had been long since she’d bothered attempting to sober up before Chimney woke in the mornings-it simply wasn’t worth it to leave the warmth for the kid’s sake. Not enough reason to lie to her about how Gramma spent her time. Most often, though, an effort was made to keep the drinking not too far away from home, close enough to stagger back in before the kid could wake up alone.
Kokoro didn’t always manage to reign in where her unthinking fins took her, as was the result tonight, having found her way to an unfamiliar corner of this eternally changing city. She probably could have figured out where it was, years spent in these streets, but right now she was enjoying the feeling of disconnect, this gritty stretch of concrete a nice moment of refuge from everything she knew.
In the late night, few passed and even less took note of yet another red-faced drunk on the sidewalk, which the old mermaid suspected was best for everyone. Who really wanted to be noticed around here? Those few that even took note of her hiccupping laughter were only sneering thugs that shook their heads in amusement as they went off to their sordid behavior. Bleary eyes followed them, lids heavy while she wondered what crime they were off to.
“Iz… izzis whachoo wanted, Tom?” She shifted against the wall, before realizing the thought had actually been said aloud. With a grunt, she decided to roll with the idea of speaking up. “’Zis what ya… whacha had in mind, here, huh?!” She called it out into the empty street, words echoing against water and alley, unheard. A long moment’s pause, before she settled down again, raising the bottle to her lips, mumbling into the liquid sloshing within. “Hah… nah, you… you would say somefin’ like… like it’d all work ou’ in time, wun’cha?” A chuckle bubbled down into her drink. “An’… an’ then you’d laugh.”
Giggles made their way past the bottle’s neck, filling up the space around her, the sound of her laughter lopsided. It skimmed over the water and bounced of building walls and down alleyways, warm and bright like this nice, fuzzy evening.
The merriment was attracting attention, she realized, one person even stopping nearby to stare. Let him marvel at her, she figured, was it so wrong for someone to be in a good mood around here?
Her onlooker stepped closer, and Kokoro settled down to softer chortling as a long set of legs stopped by her. Maybe he was drunk too; he’d forgotten his pants. There was a time that would have bothered her. Now, it was just funny.
“Oi, old lady. What you doin’ out here?”
Baring pointed teeth in a crooked smile, she tried to find her way up to looking at the man before her, but he was too tall, and it was too dizzy up there. Too dizzy up there… that didn’t make any sense at all! She began laughing anew.
“Ngahahaha! Wha’s it look like, boy, you think… think I’m so old I can’t enjoy a drink inna moonligh’?” She waved her free hand at something. Maybe it was him, but it was just as likely at anything else. “What else’d I be ou’ here for, hah? Ngahaha! You wann’ join meh? Got… got plenny a’ booze left, ‘s good t’share! More’a merrier, ngahahaha!”
The bare legs, all she could really make out from this angle on the wall, stood stiff in front of her. She took the pause as an opportunity for another swig from her bottle. “Cummon, buddy! ‘Sa great night fer a little comp’ny an’ a good drink!”
Up above the legs, a thick and unfamiliar figure leaned down, casting her into shadow. She blinked up at him again while a bulging arm reached over and behind her. “C’mon, granny, less’ get you home.”
For just a moment, the feeling of too-thick fingers against her back reminded her of something, from so long ago, but no, he had no webs. She chuckled again. “Ahh, boy, you sayin’ you know better’n this ol’ sack a’ bones? Ngahahaha! Ah’m havin’ a good tahm ‘ere!”
“Yeah, yeah, just get yer flabby ass up, crazy bat. Where you livin’ at now?” The thick hand pulled her up, but careful, gentle in the movement. His voice reminded her of another someone, all different from those hands, all harsh words that meant nothing in the end. Maybe she had been drinking too much, after all. The smile drifted a moment, and she let herself be stood up.
For all the blurring the world did, she stood easy on her own two fins, nimbly whipping a step out of his reach when he held out that strange, thick arm to support her. Now that she was thinking about it, she probably did know this area, the way back home floating up through her consciousness while she giggled at him. “Haaa, izzat any way t’… t’ talk to a lady? Make yerself look suspishis, takin’ away a fine young thing like me at nigh’! Ngaaahahahaha!”
An apparent shudder ran through the bulky man at the idea of it, though his voice held as much bored venom as before. “Listen, you want me t’take you home or not, hag? I don’t gotta be wastin’ my time on drunks like you!”
So familiar, but so, so different. Why was it funny? Well, she didn’t need a reason to keep laughing, did she? Kokoro’s head bobbed about as she swished her bottle up high, and started walking off in the direction she figured must be close enough to how to get home. “I dun’ need help, but if y’want, you c’n be mah stalker…!”
“Dammit, crazy witch!” But it meant nothing, and he followed a step behind her, hovering, twitching a hair every time her balance went off. A bad-mouthed brat with no manners, who did what he wanted. Respecting his elders while he called them bad names. He hadn’t changed…
There was that thought again, and she laughed, glancing back while knocking back another gulp. She was being stupid, comparing this big hulk to that ghost. They were nothing alike, him all bulges where once there had been lean muscle. But in the moonlight, his hair looked the right color. Was it just the blur of her booze that made his shirt look so colorful? He carried himself too heavy for someone drunken enough to lose their trousers.
He did a lot of mumbling as they walked, and her a lot of laughing at these strange ideas, but there was nothing more said to one another. She thought she heard him start a word to her once or twice, cut off and forgotten before the meaning could get out. How weird people could be. Her included. This was hilarious. It called for another swig.
The nearer they got to the station, the more certain she became this was a dream, something silly and to be forgotten when she woke up, and there, the pink on the horizon, it was almost over. She couldn’t be sure exactly how grateful she was for it, or wasn’t at all, but the drink kept her warm either way.
“Haaa, there w’go. I’m good, boy, don’ need ya peepin’ in on me in bed, geddoutta here, woulja?” She beamed, cheeks burning dull red and eyelids drooping heavy. “Y’got bedder things t’do than follow me, doncha, huh? Up all nigh’, g’wan, mus’ be tired followin’ me around.”
She sneered around the bottle as she suckled the last drops from the neck, and in the dim light growing in the sky, she could finally see his details, the lines of his face and his eyes that watched her, narrowed. No, no, this man looked nothing like that ghost. But for his eyes.
“Shit, you better believe walking your drunken ass home’s tiring. Don’t go causing problems for other people, saggy old bat.” His lip curled just so, baring his gums in that way, his arms folding one over the other exactly in that manner, posture slumped perfectly right.
There wasn’t any booze left in the bottle, so she pulled it away from her mouth, still grinning at him. She just smiled for a long moment, and he went a little tense all over. And she laughed again. What a dream this was.
Her back turned against the ghost, empty bottle still swinging by her side as she waved her hand and walked back home. “G’wan, you stubborn little brat, get outta here. Before y’get yerself in trouble.”
Theme: #10 "Dive"
Claim: Franky
Words: 1481
Rating: PG
Warnings: drinking, swearing
The world was a haze of mixed colors and blurred lines, all smooth and warm and friendly in the dark night. Kokoro leaned back against the wall, smiling at all of it and bottle limp in her hand. This was so much better than everything else.
It had been long since she’d bothered attempting to sober up before Chimney woke in the mornings-it simply wasn’t worth it to leave the warmth for the kid’s sake. Not enough reason to lie to her about how Gramma spent her time. Most often, though, an effort was made to keep the drinking not too far away from home, close enough to stagger back in before the kid could wake up alone.
Kokoro didn’t always manage to reign in where her unthinking fins took her, as was the result tonight, having found her way to an unfamiliar corner of this eternally changing city. She probably could have figured out where it was, years spent in these streets, but right now she was enjoying the feeling of disconnect, this gritty stretch of concrete a nice moment of refuge from everything she knew.
In the late night, few passed and even less took note of yet another red-faced drunk on the sidewalk, which the old mermaid suspected was best for everyone. Who really wanted to be noticed around here? Those few that even took note of her hiccupping laughter were only sneering thugs that shook their heads in amusement as they went off to their sordid behavior. Bleary eyes followed them, lids heavy while she wondered what crime they were off to.
“Iz… izzis whachoo wanted, Tom?” She shifted against the wall, before realizing the thought had actually been said aloud. With a grunt, she decided to roll with the idea of speaking up. “’Zis what ya… whacha had in mind, here, huh?!” She called it out into the empty street, words echoing against water and alley, unheard. A long moment’s pause, before she settled down again, raising the bottle to her lips, mumbling into the liquid sloshing within. “Hah… nah, you… you would say somefin’ like… like it’d all work ou’ in time, wun’cha?” A chuckle bubbled down into her drink. “An’… an’ then you’d laugh.”
Giggles made their way past the bottle’s neck, filling up the space around her, the sound of her laughter lopsided. It skimmed over the water and bounced of building walls and down alleyways, warm and bright like this nice, fuzzy evening.
The merriment was attracting attention, she realized, one person even stopping nearby to stare. Let him marvel at her, she figured, was it so wrong for someone to be in a good mood around here?
Her onlooker stepped closer, and Kokoro settled down to softer chortling as a long set of legs stopped by her. Maybe he was drunk too; he’d forgotten his pants. There was a time that would have bothered her. Now, it was just funny.
“Oi, old lady. What you doin’ out here?”
Baring pointed teeth in a crooked smile, she tried to find her way up to looking at the man before her, but he was too tall, and it was too dizzy up there. Too dizzy up there… that didn’t make any sense at all! She began laughing anew.
“Ngahahaha! Wha’s it look like, boy, you think… think I’m so old I can’t enjoy a drink inna moonligh’?” She waved her free hand at something. Maybe it was him, but it was just as likely at anything else. “What else’d I be ou’ here for, hah? Ngahaha! You wann’ join meh? Got… got plenny a’ booze left, ‘s good t’share! More’a merrier, ngahahaha!”
The bare legs, all she could really make out from this angle on the wall, stood stiff in front of her. She took the pause as an opportunity for another swig from her bottle. “Cummon, buddy! ‘Sa great night fer a little comp’ny an’ a good drink!”
Up above the legs, a thick and unfamiliar figure leaned down, casting her into shadow. She blinked up at him again while a bulging arm reached over and behind her. “C’mon, granny, less’ get you home.”
For just a moment, the feeling of too-thick fingers against her back reminded her of something, from so long ago, but no, he had no webs. She chuckled again. “Ahh, boy, you sayin’ you know better’n this ol’ sack a’ bones? Ngahahaha! Ah’m havin’ a good tahm ‘ere!”
“Yeah, yeah, just get yer flabby ass up, crazy bat. Where you livin’ at now?” The thick hand pulled her up, but careful, gentle in the movement. His voice reminded her of another someone, all different from those hands, all harsh words that meant nothing in the end. Maybe she had been drinking too much, after all. The smile drifted a moment, and she let herself be stood up.
For all the blurring the world did, she stood easy on her own two fins, nimbly whipping a step out of his reach when he held out that strange, thick arm to support her. Now that she was thinking about it, she probably did know this area, the way back home floating up through her consciousness while she giggled at him. “Haaa, izzat any way t’… t’ talk to a lady? Make yerself look suspishis, takin’ away a fine young thing like me at nigh’! Ngaaahahahaha!”
An apparent shudder ran through the bulky man at the idea of it, though his voice held as much bored venom as before. “Listen, you want me t’take you home or not, hag? I don’t gotta be wastin’ my time on drunks like you!”
So familiar, but so, so different. Why was it funny? Well, she didn’t need a reason to keep laughing, did she? Kokoro’s head bobbed about as she swished her bottle up high, and started walking off in the direction she figured must be close enough to how to get home. “I dun’ need help, but if y’want, you c’n be mah stalker…!”
“Dammit, crazy witch!” But it meant nothing, and he followed a step behind her, hovering, twitching a hair every time her balance went off. A bad-mouthed brat with no manners, who did what he wanted. Respecting his elders while he called them bad names. He hadn’t changed…
There was that thought again, and she laughed, glancing back while knocking back another gulp. She was being stupid, comparing this big hulk to that ghost. They were nothing alike, him all bulges where once there had been lean muscle. But in the moonlight, his hair looked the right color. Was it just the blur of her booze that made his shirt look so colorful? He carried himself too heavy for someone drunken enough to lose their trousers.
He did a lot of mumbling as they walked, and her a lot of laughing at these strange ideas, but there was nothing more said to one another. She thought she heard him start a word to her once or twice, cut off and forgotten before the meaning could get out. How weird people could be. Her included. This was hilarious. It called for another swig.
The nearer they got to the station, the more certain she became this was a dream, something silly and to be forgotten when she woke up, and there, the pink on the horizon, it was almost over. She couldn’t be sure exactly how grateful she was for it, or wasn’t at all, but the drink kept her warm either way.
“Haaa, there w’go. I’m good, boy, don’ need ya peepin’ in on me in bed, geddoutta here, woulja?” She beamed, cheeks burning dull red and eyelids drooping heavy. “Y’got bedder things t’do than follow me, doncha, huh? Up all nigh’, g’wan, mus’ be tired followin’ me around.”
She sneered around the bottle as she suckled the last drops from the neck, and in the dim light growing in the sky, she could finally see his details, the lines of his face and his eyes that watched her, narrowed. No, no, this man looked nothing like that ghost. But for his eyes.
“Shit, you better believe walking your drunken ass home’s tiring. Don’t go causing problems for other people, saggy old bat.” His lip curled just so, baring his gums in that way, his arms folding one over the other exactly in that manner, posture slumped perfectly right.
There wasn’t any booze left in the bottle, so she pulled it away from her mouth, still grinning at him. She just smiled for a long moment, and he went a little tense all over. And she laughed again. What a dream this was.
Her back turned against the ghost, empty bottle still swinging by her side as she waved her hand and walked back home. “G’wan, you stubborn little brat, get outta here. Before y’get yerself in trouble.”