Oh, goddammit.

[thornofcamorr]

Locke is currently sitting in the kitchen drinking a bottle of wine and shivering rather rapidly. He doesn't look nearly as pleased with himself as someone who just successfully filched said bottle from someone's room should, especially since said person was still there. He's trying to remember if there's any sort of thing one is supposed to do

Comments

[cursed_bent]

Valen wanders into the kitchen, perhaps after some wine himself, and smiles when he first notices Locke. "Hello, L--" He pauses and the smile fades as he notices the state his friend is in. "Locke? Are you alright?"

[thornofcamorr]

Locke looks up and gives him a lopsided and rather mad grin. "H'lo, Valen. Other than the fact that I'm totally fucked, yeah, I'm great." That's almost sincere, too.

[cursed_bent]

"Why are you 'totally fucked?' Did something happen?" Between the drunkenness and the mad grin, he's fairly certain that whatever it is, isn't good.

[thornofcamorr]

"Not yet. Just waiting for it to roll around, though. Fucking Bondsmagi. Stupid to think I'd get away from them." He laughs a bit. "Fucking hell...gods, being twelve and stupid once was enough, reliving it's just nasty..."

He gives Valen a slightly more serious look. "You know, you probably shouldn't be here. I'm a dead man and you will be too."

[cursed_bent]

"I thought there weren't any Bondsmagi here. I'm not too worried about it, if I'd actually died every time I was certain I would, well, I probably wouldn't have lived until the age of seven." He doesn't understand the rest of what Locke is saying, and is for the moment attributing that to the drinking.

[thornofcamorr]

Locke rolls his eyes around and back to Valen. "That's what I thought too. You know what they say, though. Where there's smoke, there's fire, and Bondsmagi smoke is pretty distinctive."

He tilts his head back and looks at the ceiling. "So far, I've been pretty good at predicting when people want me dead. I've already barely missed once. I don't expect another one."

[cursed_bent]

"What kind of smoke was it, then?" He didn't really notice the strange goings-on, as they didn't happen to him directly.

He shrugs, "When people want you dead, you just have to keep living if only to prove them wrong." He grins a bit. "It's worked for me so far."

[thornofcamorr]

"I was twelve. Again. I think. Or someone made me think I was twelve." He looks at Valen and grins a bit himself. "One gets sick of it when ones enemies are persistent and rather better armed than oneself." And when you're about the only friend he has left, Valen, but Locke's not even really aware of that particular motivation.

[cursed_bent]

"Aren't they always?" Valen asks, trying to make sense of the first comment. In the end, he really can't. "What do you mean, made you think you were twelve?"

[thornofcamorr]

Locke shrugs. "I dunno. For a few days I was sure I was just that - twelve. Again. Same arrogant, over-confident brat I was." He laughs, almost ruefully. "Am. Sorry."

[cursed_bent]

"Yes, are," he smiles slightly, amused. But the rest still isn't making sense. "How could you have been twelve again?"

[thornofcamorr]

A shrug and Locke slugs back a bit more wine from the bottle. "I have no idea."

[cursed_bent]

He shakes his head disbelievingly and leans against the wall. "No wonder you're getting drunk. I never knew anything like that was possible."

[thornofcamorr]

Locke nods. "Me neither. And besides, I figure being torn limb from limb might be a little less painful if I'm drunk out of my mind. I'm working on it."

[cursed_bent]

"You're not going to be torn limb from limb. You said that there are no bondsmagi here, remember?" He hopes that's still true, and if it isn't he's going to at least try to help.

[thornofcamorr]

Locke gives him a mournful look. "I don't know anyone else with magic and a grudge against me."