(no subject)
Author: Aublivienne
Story: Worldbreakers/ Cataclysmos
Title: Highly Explosive
Challenge: Grape #14 (collateral damage), Daiquiri Ice #16, FOTD (pyrophoric - capable of igniting spontaneously in air)
Extras/Toppings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 721
Summary: Sorian's incredible lack of self-restraint.
Notes: Soooo I may have expanded the Cataclysmos universe just a little (read: a lot) and given everyone their own storyline :|
Sorian never had much control when he was drunk.
He and Sheridan stumbled onto the sidewalk, giggling as they both tripped over the curb. “Dude, this was such a bad idea,” Sheridan laughed, unsteadily getting back to his feet.
Sorian crawled to the base of a palm tree and rested against it. He took a hefty swig of the cheap gas station booze and passed the bottle to his friend. “All my ideas're good,” he slurred, grinning like an idiot. “You're having fun, right?”
Sheridan hated to admit it, but he was. His idea of fun usually involved sitting in a quiet coffee house, or listening to music and lounging around the house, but he didn't mind going out with his much wilder best friend on occasion. “Things are just so much more fun to see when you're plastered!” Sorian had said when he showed up at his door with a large bottle. Sheridan didn't agree, of course, but it was nice to indulge the blond sometimes.
The smile fell from Sorian's face after a long moment. “Why won't Adrienne forgive me?” he asked, staring at the setting sun.
Oh, here we go, Sheridan thought, slowly letting out a breath. First came the sadness, then the anger, and then there was usually a late night phone call from the city drunk tank. “You know how she is, man. She went through something pretty traumatic-“
“But it wasn't my fault!” Sorian said, a bit too loudly. “You know I wouldn't've done that to her normally-“
“Okay, but happened wasn't normal. It was bad, and it almost certainly fucked with her head.” Sheridan sighed and leaned against the tree. “I really don't think she's gonna get over it, and you shouldn't dwell on that.”
“But-“ Sorian looked up, and Sheridan the sadness in his eyes give way to frustration. “It's not fair!” He slammed his fist on the ground, and Sheridan noticed a few blades of the dead grass catch alight and immediately burn themselves out near Sorian's hand.
“No, it's not,” Sheridan agreed, helping the shorter man to his feet. If he didn't calm him down soon... “And that's why you shouldn't worry about it.”
Sorian put his hands to his head and took a few steps. He let out an exasperated groan and turned back around, angry. “I am worried! I don't fucking understand!” His voice rose with every word until he was screaming his lament to the whole block. “Help me figure this out!”
“Dude, you're wasted, let's just go back and sleep on it-“
Sorian screamed to the skies-wordless, enraged, anguished-and the palm tree above the pair combusted. Sheridan gasped, suddenly a lot more sober, and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. “Fuckfuckfuck man pull back pull back-“
The blond's eyes suddenly went wide and he doubled over, throwing up on the ground. Sheridan could hear him laughing between gags. “Holy shit,” he whispered, standing up a minute later. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his oversized hoodie and smiled up at the flames. “Haven't had that happen in a while.”
The pair looked at each other when they heard sirens, then took off running. Sorian laughed manically, embers raining down on him and the street. They didn't stop until they reached a fast food joint about a half mile away.
Sorian collapsed into a booth by the door, still giggling. “Dude,” he panted, noticing that his friend looked a little green. “You okay?”
The run and the alcohol had Sheridan feeling nauseous. He leaned against the window and gave Sorian a look.
“Sorry,” Sorian said in a way that meant he wasn't actually sorry. A fire truck sped by the restaurant, sirens blaring. “You think they'll figure out it was us?” he asked with a smirk.
“You.” Sheridan took a deep breath in a vain attempt to settle his stomach. “Not us. You.”
Sorian snorted. “Fine.” He glanced at the counter and back across the table. “Share fries?”
Just the mention of food made the taller man's stomach lurch. “Nah. I'm...gonna go kneel at the porcelain altar, if you know what I mean.”
Sorian chuckled as Sheridan got up and quickly headed for the restroom. “Let me know if you need me to hold your hair back!” he called after Sheridan, earning an over-the-shoulder middle finger.
Story: Worldbreakers/ Cataclysmos
Title: Highly Explosive
Challenge: Grape #14 (collateral damage), Daiquiri Ice #16, FOTD (pyrophoric - capable of igniting spontaneously in air)
Extras/Toppings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 721
Summary: Sorian's incredible lack of self-restraint.
Notes: Soooo I may have expanded the Cataclysmos universe just a little (read: a lot) and given everyone their own storyline :|
Sorian never had much control when he was drunk.
He and Sheridan stumbled onto the sidewalk, giggling as they both tripped over the curb. “Dude, this was such a bad idea,” Sheridan laughed, unsteadily getting back to his feet.
Sorian crawled to the base of a palm tree and rested against it. He took a hefty swig of the cheap gas station booze and passed the bottle to his friend. “All my ideas're good,” he slurred, grinning like an idiot. “You're having fun, right?”
Sheridan hated to admit it, but he was. His idea of fun usually involved sitting in a quiet coffee house, or listening to music and lounging around the house, but he didn't mind going out with his much wilder best friend on occasion. “Things are just so much more fun to see when you're plastered!” Sorian had said when he showed up at his door with a large bottle. Sheridan didn't agree, of course, but it was nice to indulge the blond sometimes.
The smile fell from Sorian's face after a long moment. “Why won't Adrienne forgive me?” he asked, staring at the setting sun.
Oh, here we go, Sheridan thought, slowly letting out a breath. First came the sadness, then the anger, and then there was usually a late night phone call from the city drunk tank. “You know how she is, man. She went through something pretty traumatic-“
“But it wasn't my fault!” Sorian said, a bit too loudly. “You know I wouldn't've done that to her normally-“
“Okay, but happened wasn't normal. It was bad, and it almost certainly fucked with her head.” Sheridan sighed and leaned against the tree. “I really don't think she's gonna get over it, and you shouldn't dwell on that.”
“But-“ Sorian looked up, and Sheridan the sadness in his eyes give way to frustration. “It's not fair!” He slammed his fist on the ground, and Sheridan noticed a few blades of the dead grass catch alight and immediately burn themselves out near Sorian's hand.
“No, it's not,” Sheridan agreed, helping the shorter man to his feet. If he didn't calm him down soon... “And that's why you shouldn't worry about it.”
Sorian put his hands to his head and took a few steps. He let out an exasperated groan and turned back around, angry. “I am worried! I don't fucking understand!” His voice rose with every word until he was screaming his lament to the whole block. “Help me figure this out!”
“Dude, you're wasted, let's just go back and sleep on it-“
Sorian screamed to the skies-wordless, enraged, anguished-and the palm tree above the pair combusted. Sheridan gasped, suddenly a lot more sober, and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. “Fuckfuckfuck man pull back pull back-“
The blond's eyes suddenly went wide and he doubled over, throwing up on the ground. Sheridan could hear him laughing between gags. “Holy shit,” he whispered, standing up a minute later. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his oversized hoodie and smiled up at the flames. “Haven't had that happen in a while.”
The pair looked at each other when they heard sirens, then took off running. Sorian laughed manically, embers raining down on him and the street. They didn't stop until they reached a fast food joint about a half mile away.
Sorian collapsed into a booth by the door, still giggling. “Dude,” he panted, noticing that his friend looked a little green. “You okay?”
The run and the alcohol had Sheridan feeling nauseous. He leaned against the window and gave Sorian a look.
“Sorry,” Sorian said in a way that meant he wasn't actually sorry. A fire truck sped by the restaurant, sirens blaring. “You think they'll figure out it was us?” he asked with a smirk.
“You.” Sheridan took a deep breath in a vain attempt to settle his stomach. “Not us. You.”
Sorian snorted. “Fine.” He glanced at the counter and back across the table. “Share fries?”
Just the mention of food made the taller man's stomach lurch. “Nah. I'm...gonna go kneel at the porcelain altar, if you know what I mean.”
Sorian chuckled as Sheridan got up and quickly headed for the restroom. “Let me know if you need me to hold your hair back!” he called after Sheridan, earning an over-the-shoulder middle finger.