WHO: Elizaveta, Ludwig, Roderich WHEN: Late Tuesday Night to Early Wednesday Morning (August 11th - 12th) WHERE: Cheuca WHAT: Beware of Drunk Roderich.
Even though he had leaned closer, it was harder for Elizaveta to hear Roderich now. All she could hear was the blood rushing in her arteries as his mouth brushed against her oh God she had never felt anything like that before. What was he prattling on about? Bar hopping? Elizaveta grinned despite herself, knowing he was already in no condition for such strenuous activity. But if he wanted to talk, this certainly wasn't the place.
Shaking her head, she took Roderich's hand and helped him off his stool, leading him to one of the private rooms they had passed on their way to the bar. 'Isn't that convenient?' she thought as she opened the door and pushed her tipsy friend in. She wondered why a bar would offer such places.
It occurred to her as to why when she walked in and instantly hit a plush bed. Oh. Well, she was European; this was hardly anything new to her. And it was much quieter here than at the bar. She sat on the purple bed, rubbing her hands on the thighs of her dark wash jeans before giving Roderich a semi-stern look.
Roderich wasn't sure how he ended up on the plush and soft purple bed. All he knew was that the bed was so soft and comfortable, and he couldn't resist lying on it. The fabric felt good against his hot skin. And... oh, where did his glasses go? He must have left it at the bar.
His fingers roamed across the plush bed, absentmindedly looking for his martini glass. It was much quieter in the room - why was he in a room again?
"Spill... what?" he mumbled with a frown. "Did I spill my drink? That must be why it's here. Where is my glass...? It's green and it has an olive in it."
He pushed himself up and scooted to the edge of the bed. He looked over to Elizaveta; why was she so serious? They were supposed to be having fun!
"You know," he said. He reached over and stroke her cheek. "You look just like my ex-wife. Except... she has blue eyes, and you have green and yours are prettier. Darker, I think. "
If the soft touch on her face made Elizaveta stiffen, then what Roderich had said made her freeze like a Hungarian blizzard. Did he...just compare her to his old wife? Was that a very poor attempt at a pick-up line? And, wait, he was married at one point? Those questions and more had to be asked another night- tonight, Elizaveta was a woman on a mission.
She pulled Roderich's hand off her face brought it down to her lap, holding it in a motherly manner. "Roderich, what happened over the weekend. If you tell me, then we'll have fun, okay?" There, an ultimatum. She had no idea what this 'fun' would entail, but she figured she'd cross that bridge when she got there.
THAT WAS THE BEST PICK-UP LINE IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND.notaustralianAugust 13 2009, 21:23:02 UTC
Roderich snapped back to reality at the mention of 'fun'. He blinked and rubbed the back of his neck. The whole intoxication process was unfamiliar and frightening to say the least. He had never consumed enough alcohol to the point where he felt his self-censor fading; his mouth kept wanting to say words, like water through a broken dam. He most certainly had never been to the point where he would touch another person without his or her consent or think that it was nice to have contact with another human body. And Elizaveta felt so warm and soft, too.
In the split moment of sobriety, he felt an overwhelming embarrassment. He took a deep breath, fighting back against the rush of nausea. Behave yourself.
"I-I am sorry," he said. He glanced at his hand on her lap and pulled it immediately, thinking that he was touching her. No alcohol ever again.
The weekend? Oh, so many things had happened over the weekend. He kept himself from spilling what happened on Saturday and instead talked about Sunday.
"There was a ghost at the museum," he said, "that is all."
NO, 'IS THAT YOUR CAPITOL BURNING OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME' IS THE BEST PICK-UP LINE EVER.manlierthanyouAugust 13 2009, 22:59:44 UTC
A ghost? Really? Elizaveta was absolutely intrigued by this bit of news, but she knew this wasn't what she was after. She would look for that ghost in person later, but not now.
"I meant...before that," she prompted tentatively. She knew he probably didn't want to talk about it, but she had gone this far to leak it out of him, and she'd be damned to stop now. The alcohol flowing in her system was no help to her fading patience. Gently taking his face in her hands, she brought him closer to her so they could see eye to eye. "Tell me what happened on Saturday- what happened to make you so upset," she demanded softly, absently stroking his hair.
I AM STEALING THAT LINE!notaustralianAugust 13 2009, 23:08:44 UTC
Roderich gawked at the closeness of their faces. Elizaveta surely was a bold one. Up close, he could take in her perfume and the stiff alcohol on her breath; neither of which he minded. He fluttered his eyes, unconsciously leaning into her fingers. Getting his hair stroked, he hadn't experienced that sensation in too long.
"Have you.... have you ever have someone in your life that you hate so much, but no matter what you do, he will not leave you alone? You can't confront him. You can't run away from him. He just keeps coming to haunt you," he raised his voice then, fingers gripping his pants. "It's... it's like his sole purpose in life is to torture and humiliate you! And it's not enough to apologize! He just keeps coming and coming until you... you break down into a mess...."
He took a breather, realizing that there was something bothering his eyes. He broke away from Elizaveta and palmed his face in his hands.
THANK A BEAUTIFUL KINK MEME FILL FOR THAT ONE.manlierthanyouAugust 13 2009, 23:25:50 UTC
Elizaveta snorted and leaned forward, bumping her forehead into Roderich's. "Christ, do I ever," she chuckled, reminiscing a pair of cocky red eyes. She smiled understandingly and collected him into herself. Did he always feel this cold? It was a stark contrast to the hazy air, and Elizaveta found herself enjoying it. Okay, maybe she had drank more than three pints of that stout and just didn't remember?
Feminine fingers found dark hair once more, and she continued in her stroking. "It's okay; take your time," she cooed, ironically trying to push him on.
THOSE KINK FILLS ARE DELICIOUS~notaustralianAugust 13 2009, 23:43:35 UTC
Roderich fidgeted on the bed. With his body absorbing the alcohol, he felt himself sobering up as well as falling asleep. And it certainly didn't help that Elizaveta was stroking him in such a soothing manner. How he had missed the affection from another person. Wanted affection, at least.
At the same time, he didn't wish to continue anymore. Even if he was intoxicated, his mind still had enough senses than to tell someone - a lady - that he was sexually assaulted by another man. He shook his head weakly, pulling away from Elizaveta once again.
"No, please don't mind me," he said. He rubbed his eyes and realized that his glasses were missing. Oh well, he didn't need them. "Would you like to leave now? I don't want to take up your time. It's late, and don't you have to work tomorrow? It's dangerous at night... I should get you home."
THAT THEY ARE.manlierthanyouAugust 14 2009, 00:02:52 UTC
Damn. Well, she didn't mind it too much- all would be revealed at a proper time. Instead, Elizaveta lied back into the yielding bed, stretching and sighing contentedly. "I don't work until tomorrow evening, and nobody scares me," Elizaveta said, hoping to alleviate his worries. No, she didn't want to leave just yet, not when sharing such a soft bed with such an attractive guy. And neither of them had taken in nearly enough alcohol, she decided. Where was the fun in being mostly sober?
"Fun!" she suddenly shouted, punctuating the air with her finger. "That's what you need: more fun!" Elizaveta rolled over and giggled at Roderich. "Hell, I need more fun, too. All we do is work and worry, and where does it get us? Fucking nowhere, that's where." She paused in her rant and looked to the closed clouded glass door. "Do you think they'll let us drink in here?"
NEED MORE ALCOHOL~!notaustralianAugust 14 2009, 00:11:48 UTC
Roderich had somehow ended up on the bed again, on his side. He ran his hand up and down the soft plush fabric, briefly noticing that the bed didn't have any pillows. Well, he might had four drinks in him, he still knew why there weren't any pillows. They weren't necessary for the activity that would go on in the private room.
Now, he just hoped people wouldn't get the wrong idea of them being in the room, even if they were at a gay bar. Why did he take Elizaveta here again... Liberty needed a straight bar.
"F-fun?" he raised a tired eyebrow at her enthusiasm. He laughed - actually laughed out loud - at her rant, and he hadn't laughed in a long time. He nodded his head eagerly and said, "I don't see why they wouldn't let us drink in here! We are paying for it."
He tried to sit up, but couldn't find the strength to. He leaned over and put a hand on Elizaveta's shoulder. "I need something... stronger... a lot stronger."
FOR SOME REASON, 'LIBERTY NEEDED A STRAIGHT BAR' MADE ME LOL.manlierthanyouAugust 14 2009, 00:34:54 UTC
Elizaveta pointed at her companion and nodded enthusiastically. He had laughed, and maybe it was her imagination, but it was the most beautiful laugh she had ever heard. Almost brought a tear to her eye, she was so moved by it. He even seemed excited to try something new, and it was her job as a lady to see to it that he did.
She opened the door, almost toppling headlong into a group of dancing people. Spying a waiter nearby, she began to wave erratically and yelling until the hot pants clad man came to them.
"Ah! Yes! I want...drinks. Lots of them." The man gave her a 'look', and Elizaveta realized she was going to have to be more specific. She glanced back at Roderich, sizing him up. He was a bit on the weak side, but had asked for something strong. Really strong. And he seemed to like sweet things...
Turning back to the waiter, she gave him a smirk. "Two Zombies, if you can." The waiter's eyebrows shot up, but he jotted down the order without argument, gave a nod, then walk to the bar. Elizaveta turned and smiled at Roderich. "Problem solved!"
I'M GLAD IT DID.notaustralianAugust 14 2009, 03:31:18 UTC
While Elizaveta was out ordering more drinks, Roderich took the chance to reach for his phone. It was nearing one in the morning, and he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have a talk with Ludwig. Without really thinking that it was already past midnight and Ludwig was most likely asleep, he dialed for his German friend.
No answer. As he had expected. He tossed the phone on the plush bed just as Elizaveta came back in. He smiled at her, waving for her to join him back on the bed. He scooted, made himself comfortable, and pressed his face against the softness.
"So what do you want to do until our drinks come?" he asked, face half-buried in the bed.
Elizaveta flopped backwards into the bed, landing flush next to Roderich. "I don't know," she ansered, fighting back another giggling fit that threatened to escape her. It had been months since she had last drank like this, and was therefore out of practice when it came to alcohol resistance. But even with most of her reservations gone, Elizaveta still couldn't think of a single thing to do. This is why she always drank alone- others needed entertainment.
She stretched, her green camisole riding up her stomach with the movement. The hazy air felt cold against the exposed skin, and Elizaveta quickly smoothed the fabric back over herself. She sighed deeply and looked sheepishly to Roderich. "What do you want to do?" she asked, a terrible cop out she knew, but a necessary one if he was to do anything remotely interesting.
Roderich had closed his eyes at some point and could only hear the loud rustling of fabric and the groaning of the bed echoing in his eardrums. And Elizaveta's giggling too, of course.
He opened his eyes then, hoping to know just exactly why she was giggling. He only caught her green top riding up, exposing the smooth skin of her stomach. He laughed too and rolled over on the bed, resting on his side and facing her.
What do you want to do?
Roderich had no idea. He could climb on top of her and kiss her lips, still slightly coated with clear lip gloss. No, wait, what was he thinking? Even if he was drowning in alcohol, he still had enough self-control and decency to not take advantage of a woman - a friend to top it off.
"I have no idea," Roderich said, sitting up as the cocktail waiter came in and handed them their drinks. He clinked their glasses together and took a long sip. The rum rushed to his head, and he laughed and coughed at the burn.
"I have... never been drunk before. What do drunk people do for fun?"
Elizaveta returned the clinking of her glass full-heartedly, adding a 'Prost' for the Austrian's sake. Her face fell intro a pensive frown as she thought. What do drunk people do for fun? "Um...Get more drunk?" she countered, causing her to laugh uproariously. She took a large gulp of her drink, the fluid sliding down her throat without argument.
Thinking back to any time she got drunk(that she could remember), Elizaveta noticed a pattern- she drank by herself, got loaded by herself, went home and fell asleep by herself. Not very exciting, really. Although, sometimes she fought with the other patrons, but she figured Roderich wouldn't be into that.
She took another long sip. Of course, he could be a closet brawler. And Elizaveta was in the mood for some physical exercise. She set her drink down and, as efficiently as she could under the influence, took Roderich's drink and set it next to her's. She then pushed him so that he was lying on his back, straddling him and pinning his wrists to the bed, smiling ferally all the while. "Try to get up," she challenged cockily, too drunk to bother explaining what she was doing.
I LOVE IT WHEN YOU SPEAK GERMAN TO ME~notaustralianAugust 14 2009, 22:50:42 UTC
Roderich wasn't taking his time to savor the Zombie. He drank it down as if he had been deprived of rum his whole life and now needed it to sustain him. He spit out a laugh at Elizaveta's answer and wiped the spilled alcohol on his chin with his fingers. Needed napkins.
He almost whined when his drink was taken away by Elizaveta, but he didn't have much time to protest before he was roughly shoved down on the bed and mounted. He frowned, looking over to his pinned wrists.
What was happening? Was Elizaveta challenging him?
He nervously shifted under her. Though he was sure Elizaveta was just being playful, he couldn't help being reminded of Francis' hands trapping him.
"What if I hurt you?" he joked, struggling weakly against her hold. "That wouldn't good. Then again, you are a nurse so you would know what to do if one of us do get hurt. B-but, I don't want to hurt you."
Shaking her head, she took Roderich's hand and helped him off his stool, leading him to one of the private rooms they had passed on their way to the bar. 'Isn't that convenient?' she thought as she opened the door and pushed her tipsy friend in. She wondered why a bar would offer such places.
It occurred to her as to why when she walked in and instantly hit a plush bed. Oh. Well, she was European; this was hardly anything new to her. And it was much quieter here than at the bar. She sat on the purple bed, rubbing her hands on the thighs of her dark wash jeans before giving Roderich a semi-stern look.
"So, spill. What happened?"
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His fingers roamed across the plush bed, absentmindedly looking for his martini glass. It was much quieter in the room - why was he in a room again?
"Spill... what?" he mumbled with a frown. "Did I spill my drink? That must be why it's here. Where is my glass...? It's green and it has an olive in it."
He pushed himself up and scooted to the edge of the bed. He looked over to Elizaveta; why was she so serious? They were supposed to be having fun!
"You know," he said. He reached over and stroke her cheek. "You look just like my ex-wife. Except... she has blue eyes, and you have green and yours are prettier. Darker, I think. "
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She pulled Roderich's hand off her face brought it down to her lap, holding it in a motherly manner. "Roderich, what happened over the weekend. If you tell me, then we'll have fun, okay?" There, an ultimatum. She had no idea what this 'fun' would entail, but she figured she'd cross that bridge when she got there.
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In the split moment of sobriety, he felt an overwhelming embarrassment. He took a deep breath, fighting back against the rush of nausea. Behave yourself.
"I-I am sorry," he said. He glanced at his hand on her lap and pulled it immediately, thinking that he was touching her. No alcohol ever again.
The weekend? Oh, so many things had happened over the weekend. He kept himself from spilling what happened on Saturday and instead talked about Sunday.
"There was a ghost at the museum," he said, "that is all."
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"I meant...before that," she prompted tentatively. She knew he probably didn't want to talk about it, but she had gone this far to leak it out of him, and she'd be damned to stop now. The alcohol flowing in her system was no help to her fading patience. Gently taking his face in her hands, she brought him closer to her so they could see eye to eye. "Tell me what happened on Saturday- what happened to make you so upset," she demanded softly, absently stroking his hair.
Oh Christ, where did his glasses go this time?
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"Have you.... have you ever have someone in your life that you hate so much, but no matter what you do, he will not leave you alone? You can't confront him. You can't run away from him. He just keeps coming to haunt you," he raised his voice then, fingers gripping his pants. "It's... it's like his sole purpose in life is to torture and humiliate you! And it's not enough to apologize! He just keeps coming and coming until you... you break down into a mess...."
He took a breather, realizing that there was something bothering his eyes. He broke away from Elizaveta and palmed his face in his hands.
"I am sorry. Please excuse me."
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Feminine fingers found dark hair once more, and she continued in her stroking. "It's okay; take your time," she cooed, ironically trying to push him on.
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At the same time, he didn't wish to continue anymore. Even if he was intoxicated, his mind still had enough senses than to tell someone - a lady - that he was sexually assaulted by another man. He shook his head weakly, pulling away from Elizaveta once again.
"No, please don't mind me," he said. He rubbed his eyes and realized that his glasses were missing. Oh well, he didn't need them. "Would you like to leave now? I don't want to take up your time. It's late, and don't you have to work tomorrow? It's dangerous at night... I should get you home."
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"Fun!" she suddenly shouted, punctuating the air with her finger. "That's what you need: more fun!" Elizaveta rolled over and giggled at Roderich. "Hell, I need more fun, too. All we do is work and worry, and where does it get us? Fucking nowhere, that's where." She paused in her rant and looked to the closed clouded glass door. "Do you think they'll let us drink in here?"
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Now, he just hoped people wouldn't get the wrong idea of them being in the room, even if they were at a gay bar. Why did he take Elizaveta here again... Liberty needed a straight bar.
"F-fun?" he raised a tired eyebrow at her enthusiasm. He laughed - actually laughed out loud - at her rant, and he hadn't laughed in a long time. He nodded his head eagerly and said, "I don't see why they wouldn't let us drink in here! We are paying for it."
He tried to sit up, but couldn't find the strength to. He leaned over and put a hand on Elizaveta's shoulder. "I need something... stronger... a lot stronger."
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She opened the door, almost toppling headlong into a group of dancing people. Spying a waiter nearby, she began to wave erratically and yelling until the hot pants clad man came to them.
"Ah! Yes! I want...drinks. Lots of them." The man gave her a 'look', and Elizaveta realized she was going to have to be more specific. She glanced back at Roderich, sizing him up. He was a bit on the weak side, but had asked for something strong. Really strong. And he seemed to like sweet things...
Turning back to the waiter, she gave him a smirk. "Two Zombies, if you can." The waiter's eyebrows shot up, but he jotted down the order without argument, gave a nod, then walk to the bar. Elizaveta turned and smiled at Roderich. "Problem solved!"
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No answer. As he had expected. He tossed the phone on the plush bed just as Elizaveta came back in. He smiled at her, waving for her to join him back on the bed. He scooted, made himself comfortable, and pressed his face against the softness.
"So what do you want to do until our drinks come?" he asked, face half-buried in the bed.
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She stretched, her green camisole riding up her stomach with the movement. The hazy air felt cold against the exposed skin, and Elizaveta quickly smoothed the fabric back over herself. She sighed deeply and looked sheepishly to Roderich. "What do you want to do?" she asked, a terrible cop out she knew, but a necessary one if he was to do anything remotely interesting.
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He opened his eyes then, hoping to know just exactly why she was giggling. He only caught her green top riding up, exposing the smooth skin of her stomach. He laughed too and rolled over on the bed, resting on his side and facing her.
What do you want to do?
Roderich had no idea. He could climb on top of her and kiss her lips, still slightly coated with clear lip gloss. No, wait, what was he thinking? Even if he was drowning in alcohol, he still had enough self-control and decency to not take advantage of a woman - a friend to top it off.
"I have no idea," Roderich said, sitting up as the cocktail waiter came in and handed them their drinks. He clinked their glasses together and took a long sip. The rum rushed to his head, and he laughed and coughed at the burn.
"I have... never been drunk before. What do drunk people do for fun?"
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Thinking back to any time she got drunk(that she could remember), Elizaveta noticed a pattern- she drank by herself, got loaded by herself, went home and fell asleep by herself. Not very exciting, really. Although, sometimes she fought with the other patrons, but she figured Roderich wouldn't be into that.
She took another long sip. Of course, he could be a closet brawler. And Elizaveta was in the mood for some physical exercise. She set her drink down and, as efficiently as she could under the influence, took Roderich's drink and set it next to her's. She then pushed him so that he was lying on his back, straddling him and pinning his wrists to the bed, smiling ferally all the while. "Try to get up," she challenged cockily, too drunk to bother explaining what she was doing.
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He almost whined when his drink was taken away by Elizaveta, but he didn't have much time to protest before he was roughly shoved down on the bed and mounted. He frowned, looking over to his pinned wrists.
What was happening? Was Elizaveta challenging him?
He nervously shifted under her. Though he was sure Elizaveta was just being playful, he couldn't help being reminded of Francis' hands trapping him.
"What if I hurt you?" he joked, struggling weakly against her hold. "That wouldn't good. Then again, you are a nurse so you would know what to do if one of us do get hurt. B-but, I don't want to hurt you."
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