[closed] Out of mind, forget it, there's nothing to lose

[drinkthebleach]

Who: boundbytreason and drinkthebleach
When: Jan 20th-24th
Where: The Tower Apartments
Summary: A cloaked magic woman and a drummer with a substance abuse problem are stuck together in a snowstorm for days on end. It's like a sitcom, or a social experiment gone horribly wrong (though seriously, is there a difference between the two?)
Warnings: Probably nothing except for adult

Comments

[boundbytreason]

[ Inwardly, Caster appreciated the little gesture of courtesy as Pickle removed his sneakers. Oftentimes, she had guests that knew nothing about proper house etiquette, and social protocol dictated that she kept silent, until she knew them better. She had slid off her own heels, leaving them in their proper place besides a small, open box of slippers for those more accustomed with Japanese customs. ]

Well, it is next to the baseball diamond. [ As she strode across the room, her robes dispelled with a faint, violet glister, leaving her dress visible. ] And...if I did that, I'd be taking up room that someone else could have had.

[ Her apartment was like any other one, but given recent circumstances, it was exceptionally pristine. Yet, all at once, it was also incredibly barren. Save for a table with a few chairs and a couch, she had no other decorations. Even her bookshelf held only unremarkable titles, such as one detailing the history of Siren's Port. ]

But it's cozy, isn't it? [ She spoke with a soft, wry chuckle. It actually didn

[drinkthebleach]

[Pickles knows next to shit about Japanese customs, despite being through the country more than once on tour, but every once in a while common courtesy acquired during childhood hits him like a mind spasm: little fragments left over from having a passive-aggressive mother.

He turns around in time to watch her cloak literally dissolve from her body in a purple haze. That would've freaked him out if he hadn't seen her cast spells before--he just blinks a couple times. Apart from the impromptu magic show though, Caster's apartment was quite mundane, bearing no signature mark that he would've tied to her or her presumed lifestyle.

Or maybe he just expected to see a spell book or something lying around. But the place doesn't look bad. He doesn't have to lie about that when she asks.] S' all right. Helluva lot bigger than the place I've got now.

[boundbytreason]

Oh? Where do you even live?

[ Now that she thought about it, she never actually had a chance to ask. She glanced over her shoulder at him as she was halfway across the room. She gauged his expression, but she also kept an eye on his position. She had disabled the trap that she set on the threshold when he entered, but whenever he moved away from the door, she would activate it once more. ]

[ After all, it never hurt to play it safe in a city like Siren's Port. ]

[drinkthebleach]

Some place in Sector Nine. [He resists the urge to roll his eyes at his own response as he leaves the general vicinity of the front door. Whenever Pickles heard the city divided into 'sectors' he felt like he was in some kind of lame sci-fi movie. The kind of trash that George Lucas wouldn't wipe his ass with. His band had been through Canada before and he couldn't remember those places having sectors.] I moved there a while ago with my pal from home.

[boundbytreason]

[ Reaching the kitchen, she extended her hand to open the cupboard, the faintest shift of movement sufficient in silently reactivating her ground spell. When she didn't need to eat, she wasn't completely accustomed to every single ingredient's location, even though she had kept everything neatly ordered, and she took a moment to comb the shelves for the cocoa powder. ]

Oh, that must be nice, meeting someone from your home.

[drinkthebleach]

[Nodding vaguely in agreement.] It didn't suck.

[That comment was all he wanted to say about his brief cohabitation with Toki unless further prodded, and he was preoccupied by an aimless migration around Caster's living room. He runs his hand along her bookshelf, rocking a few of the books forward just to poke them back into place with his index finger.] ...You live alone?

[boundbytreason]

[ Reaching into the back of her cupboard for the cocoa, the side of her gloved hand briefly brushed by a green box of teabags. She lightly settled her left hand on it, gingerly shuffling it back into its proper place. ]

That's right. [ It may have seemed odd that she had a two bedroom apartment, but as usual, she had her reasons. ] Does that come as a surprise?

[drinkthebleach]

Not really. [The response is fluid as he loses interest in her personal library and heads in the direction of the dining room, following her voice.] No offense. You just seem like a private lady.

[Then Pickles seems to contradict this observation by coming into the kitchen and leaning on the counter behind Caster, watching her reach around for the cocoa.]

[boundbytreason]

[ Withdrawing the box, she nimbly slid the door to the cupboard shut, concealing the shelves filled with boxes of plastic wraps, rice, and noodles. If he was quick, he would notice that most of them seemed, more or less, untouched, nearly as if she restocked recently. ]

None taken. You would be correct. [ She spoke offhandedly as she strode to the other side of the kitchen. ] So, where were you headed?

[ Extending her free hand, she pulling open the door to another cupboard, revealing a stock of wine flutes, mugs, and glasses. ]

[drinkthebleach]

[Pickles isn't quick enough to notice the untouched goods--he's too busy watching Caster pull the hot chocolate down from the cupboard and noting how weird it was that she was serious about making it for him. It was a little surreal (offhandedly he also wonders if she just didn't like coffee for some reason, or wanted to treat him like a little kid).]

Home. [His shoulders arch towards his ears in an offhanded shrug.] Or I might've stopped by a bar on the way. I dunno. S' the kind of weather for gettin' plastered beyond belief.

[Though the discrepancy between getting drunk during a snowstorm and getting drunk during any other part of Pickles's day was not very clear.]

/digs self out of HW to crash into this threeeead

[boundbytreason]

[ Slipping out a white mug, Caster set it down on the counter, followed by the box of cocoa. Reaching back up, she moved to close the door to the cupboard. ]

Is it? [ Her fingers moved to open the door to another cupboard, her eyes briefly combing the shelves for the sugar. ] I much rather spend a winter evening with a warm cup of tea.

[ Recalling how he reacted over the NetVice to Loki's New Years trick, amusement briefly curled upwards at the corner of Caster's mouth. ]

So, exactly how much can you drink?

/Cliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiings Hello again! ;w;

[drinkthebleach]

No kidding. [His tone of voice is offhanded, and not very surprised. Even without her prompting, Pickles probably would've assumed the same thing about the kinds of activities Caster did during her evenings, if not throwing a book in there for good measure. It wasn't that he thought she was boring, she just wasn't a party girl.

But he still ran into her in AGI's part of the city. That was kind of surprising. And weird.

Pickles runs his fingers over the counter top that he was leaning against; then curls his hand into a fist and drums his knuckles against the surface a few times before tossing a questioning look at the back of her head.]

What? You want me to give you a number?

/Hoooolds Ahhh, hello, right back at you! ♥

[boundbytreason]

[ With the sugar secured, she headed over to the kitchen drawer next. The rapping of his knuckles briefly drew her eyes in his direction, readily enabling her to catch the quizzical look that he sent her way. ]

Is it even possible to put a number on it? [ She asked, with a remark clearly meant as tongue-in-cheek. ]

[ The drawer rumbled softly, followed by the gentle clatter of utensils as she pulled it open. Selecting one of the teaspoons, the fluorescent lights reflected softly off the pristine, silver surface as she lifted it out. ]

[drinkthebleach]

Probably not. What kind of sick, anal-retentive weirdo counts how many drinks he's havin', anyway? [His mouth twists into an interesting frown, as though he was trying to imagine doing such a thing. That was no fun at all, and kind of like that naked kid in the commercials that was always trying to figure out how many licks it took to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop: just shut the fuck up and eat your candy.]

I mean, s'not always how many drinks yer havin' as much as how much alcohol's in 'em anyway, sometimes. Some drinks can mess you up fast. An' sometimes you can't taste the booze so you drink twice as much. [He flicks invisible dirt off the counter.] ...But I've had a hundred percent in my body before, to answer yer question. That's probably the norm for me--or somewhere 'round that ballpark, I dunno.