Post by JR on Oct 8, 2015 4:33:29 GMT -8
Characters:
Miriam Roth { ignafatua@aol.com }, Huck Dyer { waittiligo@aol.com }, Freya Black { darkestiove@aol.com }
Summary:
Once left alone on the green, Freya makes to go home but is stopped by the very drunken arrival of Huckleberry Dyer, and followed a moment later by Mira. Freya knows something is off by Huck's behavior, even drunk, and together the girls coax it out of him. Freya, however, is much more hurt than she'd lead her brother to believe, and Mira takes action.
Triggers:
Language, some soft violence, a mention of rape. Really bad singing.
Huck: "Froooom gleeeen to gleeeeen." The Irish accent screamed in song from one end of the green as he wandered. "And dooooown, the mountain siiiiide!" Bottle of jameson was cheered to ghosts that only he could see, or anyone else with the sight. "The suuuuummer's gooooone...and all the floooooowers are...." He smelled fresh air and tipped head back before whiskey was drawn to his lips and the blonde-headed Tom walked backwards in stumbling steps. "Dyyyying..." He lost balance and crashed backwards onto a part of the grass that began to rise up into a small hill. More like a lump than a hill, really. He cracked back against it and laughed in a furious storm, sweat slick face a little paler than usual as Tom ran the body into the ground with his night out. He wandered back up with drug-addled mind, pills he took from strangers. Well, they took his wallet, so it was a fair trade. "TIS YOU.... TIS YOU MUST GO....." He pointed and sang louder when a stranger wandered by, they wandered faster before the wobbly character in dress-shirt, slacks, and black tie fought to give chase. He came up short, and they were gone, turning again on his heel and singing some more before returning to his path through the green. "... and I muuuuuust bide... Holy fuck... Freeeeeeeeeeeya... FREEEEEEEEYA." He took a page from Marlon Brando, giving his best representation of the infamous 'Stella'. He could see her about thirty yards off, and he was determined to get to her. "Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyaaaaaaaa!" Jameson was sucked at like a baby with his bottle, greedily slurping before waving in the air with a wide stretch of arm. <done>
Mira: Cooler weather beckoned to Mira. It always had, and now that she knew what she was, she was starting to understand why. It did little to physically phase her, and despite the chill, she was clad in nothing but a short wrap dress in a particularly vibrant hue of crimson and a pair of reasonably sensible dark gray flats. So much had happened, so much was on her mind, and she had thought that, perhaps, a walk would clear her head. It didn't. Or well, maybe it might have before there was somebody loudly and poorly singing on the Green. Jesus. Couldn't a girl just go out for a smoke and a think at fuck-all in the morning without getting an amazingly bad rendition of Danny Boy? She found herself walking in the direction of the voice, if only because it gave her a direction to go. She got there right as he started screaming for...Freya? Dark eyes widened and followed his general trajectory towards the woman, and the left side of her mouth--unpainted--quirked upwards while the rest remained a stoic line. "Christ," she said, coming up alongside the stranger, a hand held out to his arm so he didn't just fucking fall over in his attempts to reach the darkly pretty Alu-fiend. "Maybe you should put down the liquor, dude. I think you've had more than enough." And then, "Hi, Freya."
Freya: If there hadn't been the smell of burnt flesh over riding her senses, Freya might have picked up not one of, but two, far too familiar scents. Far too distracted, she'd missed the singing, or maybe just ignored it all together -- until the same voice was crooning off her name in a loud drag of an Irish laced drunk. And not just from his birth, but the whiskey that slurred his tongue. Frey turned Huck's way, brows furrowing closer to one another. For a man who tended to be quiet until prompted to make speech, this was a far different Huckleberry Dyer presenting himself. And there came Mira, pulling confused gray-blues from the tall blonde man, to the slender brunette. "Hello, Mira," she returned, red mouth quirking some in it's corner. "Here, let me help you with that." Frey darted forward then, in a nimble stride of long legs that ate up the distance quickly, and fit herself against Huck's side, sliding his arm over her shoulder; curling it inward a little to keep his heavy arm from hitting where she really didn't need it hitting at the moment. "Handsome, what have you done to yourself?" The inflection of a light scold rode her sultry tones, and her arm went about his waist; fingers making a playful grab for the soft fabric of Mira's dress near her back where she stood on the other side of him. "There's a bench comin' up, shall we?" -d-
Huck: "Oi. Faaaaack. Heeeeey thar lass...." Strangers that offered aid was found. He tight-roped across the sidewalk, using every bit of it each time he took a step until he found a thread to carry. It was a slightly angled edge that brought him into a crash alongside Mira. Hip checked her and arm thrust itself across her shoulder. He was six foot maybe a buck eighty, but he moved with intoxicated grace. The voice was horrendous. It was a man speaking with chords that didn't belong to him, not to mention the haze of liquor. "Oiiii oi.. oi... Oi... Oi.... Hey... Sup, lady." He said hi to Mira again and this time it was with a glossy-eyed leer close, a hand rising up to give her tit a grope. No Tom, we weren't in the strip club anymore. And no Tom... that wouldn't have been accepted there either. Right about the time he reached to grope, he simultaneously found Freya coming in again. "Heeeeeeeey.... thar' she blooooooows.... FUCK A BENCH." And whether or not Mira was molested or successfully defended herself he was in a dead sprint, intent on walking over the bench. The first step found the seat, the second step found the top of the bench, the third one found empty air and he wobbled mid-air. Phantom stair didn't work for ghosts either, well, at least not when they were possessing someone. He lurched and it was obvious how he valued things... Huck's body allowed to take the brunt of the fall with a grunt, but bottle was tipped. "I got it... I got it... Oi... fuck.. heeey.. ya'... got.. somethin' thar..." Able to see the discolored flesh now that his head was upside down and peering over at Mira and Freya. <done>
Mira: Well, well, well. Freya. Mira's eyes slid over her, and when they landed on her wound, her pretty mouth pulled into a slight frown. "Oh, man. What happened to you?" Fingers clawed into the back of her dress, and she sidled closer to Huck because it got her closer to Freya. "Want me to kill 'em?" she asked oh so sweetly. "Or would you prefer keeping the honor?" Tall, blonde, and stringy kept lurching along, and she worked as best she could with the darling demon to ease him towards the indicated bench, only to find herself sort of...half-grabbed for. Her free hand caught his wrist. "At least buy me a drink first?" she playfully scolded. Mira wasn't about to try to get to know this guy. Not while he was wasted, at least. Maybe when he sobered up she could properly introduce herself as something more than lady. So while Huck did his whole try to climb the bench thing, she stood, watched, made sure he didn't crack his fucking head open, and spoke to Freya. "You know, we're always meeting up in the most idiotic circumstances," she murmured, leaning around their drunk babysitting charge to peck a kiss to the corner of the Alu-fiend's mouth. "You know this guy? Considering he was screaming your name and everything." She glanced at him, decided he might be sort of sweet-looking if he wasn't beyond bombed. Honestly it was like watching a lost puppy go on a bender.
Freya: Well, she'd done a bad job trying to hide herself with the jacket. It really was the jacket's fault, though; the collar not high enough to cover the part of the crucifix burn that rode up the side of her throat, or the bit that ran down her chest. When Mira brought it up, she tried to shrug her jacket closer to her under the weight of Huck's arm. "It's nothin' to worry your pretty head over, love." A half laugh bubbled up, and she shook her head. "Nah, we'll keep him in one peice for now -- Oi!," she called sharply to him then when he was after grabbing tits he didn't have permission to go after. An `oi` very much like the one he kept barking out. "Watch the hands, buster." She was less playful in her scolding than Mira was, and simply because she knew that sober Huck was far more of a gentleman than .. oh shit. Realization shot through her like lightning, which made Freya stop in her tracks, giving Huck .. 's body .. a better opportunity to take off and head for the bench he was soon falling off of and leaving her staring after him a moment, then starting forth again to fall back into step with Mira. The winged thing ( minus the wings ) came saddling up, laying the softness of her mouth against the red matte of Freya's, and she slid an arm about the back of her -- though at the moment mercury gaze was stuck on poor Huck's face. "Sometimes, lovely, I wonder if I really do or not." A turn of her face, an the smear of a kiss returned to Mira's cheek, close to her bottom lip, before Freya dropped down to crouch in front of the upside down drunk. "Nothin' for you to worry on either," she gave a little knock to his forehead with a strum of her knuckles, whispering softly as she leaned in a little close. "Who's in there, huh?" -d-
Huck: Laying on the ground was easier than walking he found, but walking was more fun. He could lay down when he was dead. He grunted a little when he sat up, one arm catching the edge of bench and used to raise his body up. He managed to get aboard his knees and lurch arms over the top of the bench, bottle set down on the seat. Blue eyes were still glazed and wide when the two gals were peered at. Tongue hung out of his mouth a little. "Oh.. fook... oh fook... OH my fawkin' arse... Aw.. Aw.. fucck.. do som... Hey.. no.. here's a drink.." He thought the one girl, the one he didn't know, he forgot he grabbed at her breasts already. She asked for a drink... and he was wobbly while Freya approached and pressed knuckles to his head. He was a little clammy, maybe, but that was from running body into the ground. "Itttt''s whaaat... itt's meeee baby.. you din' forget me... It's his brotha'.. tha' good lookin' one." Shit you not he lurched forward when she leaned in closer and face planted between her tits, one arm curling around her waist while he stumbled into her. He pushed back on the girl, pushing her and angling so he could offer the re-snagged bottle of Jameson over to Mira. "Heeere.. for you.. for you.. you.. Look at what I did for you..." Special. He laughed some. Oh, obnoxious Tom, poor girls. <done>
Mira: Nothing to worry about? Fine, fine. She'd accept that answer, if only because it came with a kiss from the dark, drug-like girl. She offered Freya up a little subtle smolder, all eyes behind long lashes and a coy little twist of her mouth, and then turned to peer at this poor soul who she may or may not have known. "Hopefully his liver can handle that," Mira mused aloud. And then he was just falling forward and faceplanting in breasts. The fae pressed the side of her hand to her mouth in a clear attempt to stop herself from laughing. She mostly managed, getting out nothing more than a quiet squeak of amusement. Right in time for her to be presented with the bottle of Jameson like it was a fucking prize. "Oh, no. I couldn't, that's yours! What's your name, anyway?" She gently nudged the bottle away from her, and dark met quicksilver over the boozy stringbean's shoulder. "You know, I can't say life with you around isn't interesting, Freya. All I planned on doing was going out for a smoke and a walk, and instead I found...well." Her laughter rang soft and sweet through the cool night, and it was echoed faintly in the distance by something that shouldn't have been there but was there all the same, something unseen. She smoothed her hand against Freya's shoulder, careful to steer clear of what she could see of the wound on her flesh. It looked painful. Mira made a mental note to find whoever did it and choke them with their own intestines.
Freya: The bits of smolder from dark eyes were enough to bring a rumble of hunger in Freya's belly, and a little lower than that -- but unfortunately, she instead she was nearly toppled over by the heaviness of his frame when Huck's fucking brother decided her breasts were the best place to take a spill. Tom spilled secrets that Huck had only hinted at, and quick as a wink, Freya put two and two -- and probably four and four by now -- together. "Yeah," she cooed, and echoed Mira's question. "What's your name?" A warm palm was running up his back, since he'd wrapped himself about her waist. He'd feel the heat of it through the thin shirt he wore. It was a slow drag from the lowest point she could reach, and north. She was also shifting. Subtle moves, that only he'd feel -- Mira, close as she was, might not even see it, or even detect it when she smoothed her touch along Freya's shoulder. A tilt of her head lifted her face to Mira, standing there above where Freya crouched, and the drunk one was more than likely trying to put his hands in her clothing. "You'll have to forgive my rudeness, sweetness. It's about to get more interesting. You should take the bottle." Cause if not, poor Tom was going to get heartbroken, when Freya used succu-strength on him now that her hand had moved over his shoulder was caressing up his throat. A caress that turned to a shove beneath his jaw to let fingers clench there, and shove -- following the shove until he was flat on his back and she was kneeling on his shoulders. "Where's your brother?," she hissed down at him. Riding still on the residual far too pissed off that Father Tucker had managed to get the drop on her, and now this? Fuck tonight. -d-
Huck: Tom wasn't aware of smoldering eyes or pulsating clams, if he had he would've pulled out his phone and played some porn music and suggest a deep-sea excursion. As it was he was too busy trying to keep a party going with people who apparently only now were getting the invite. Two people were asking him what his name was, now he had to adjust and remember who it was he was with. Oh yeah. Freya and that girl. "Oi, you know me... girl.. fuckin' Tom.. fuck.. " He told her his name was Huck that first time they met. "... wha..." And the drunken guy was laid out on his back without even knowing how he got there. He was already getting back up when she was on top of him and he grunting again when knees bruised shoulders and he tilted his head towards the hand still toting bottle. There was about a 1/3 left. "Heeeeeey.. what tha' bloody heeeeelll.... RAPE..... RAAAAAAAAPE..... RAAAAAAAPE." Top of his lungs. Danny Boy had nothing on his yells that came among grunts and laughs. He pushed shoulders up, but legs sprawled about. He actually considered kicking her in the back of her head. Well, he actually tried, but Huck's body wasn't nearly as limber as his had been. Or maybe he was really drunk. All he managed to do was squirm down a bit and cause pants to pull down to his thighs revealing the tightie whitie Hanes beneath. "Oiiii... you... girl... there... go get help.. call an adult." <done>
Mira: Get the booze? Got it. Get the booze. A split second before Freya came in to grab the guy by the throat, Mira was there too, plucking the bottle of Jameson neatly from his hand. "I'll just keep this safe for a minute, shall I?" she asked, curiosity couched in mischief in her tone. "A pleasure to meet you, Tom. I'm Miriam." She didn't expect him to remember that for so much as a fraction of a second, even with the way he was being grabbed and tussled with. He was way too drunk to have any sort of working memory of this night, she figured. While Freya grappled with him and demanded to know where his brother was--ooh, he had a brother, maybe his brother drank less and would be better company--she took the offer that Tom had made her. She opened the bottle and took a pull, like it was popcorn at a movie theater and tonight's feature film was Alu-fiend Versus Drunk Guy. Mira screwed up her face because it burned like a motherfucker going down. She was faerie, for fuck's sake, she preferred her alcohol sweet and fruity. "Jesus. How does anybody drink this straight?" As Tom's pants went down, though, she snickered and took a second drink. "Suppose that's enough for two gropes," she murmured, though largely to herself. Not that she necessarily cared if Tom heard her. Freya certainly hadn't lied about the more interesting part. "Need a hand, prettything?" she asked Freya, putting the bottle down somewhere safe nearby and preparing to leap in if need be.
Freya: All that moving around only had Freya digging her knees in harder to hold him down; planting her ass down firmly on his chest in the process, to bear down and ride it out like she was on a bucking bronco, while he decided that rape was the best thing to yell out on a university campus. The hiss she shot down at his face was an unnatural thing, and she tightened the clamp she had on his esophagus to try to shut his mouth up. "Give him back!" She wasn't all together certain how the whole thing worked, having only borne witness to the exchange once, and she hadn't really been paying attention when they switched. He was so squirmy, and she was about to lose the placement of her knees, and the move was swift that had her knee colliding with the side of his head. Maybe that would work? She did it again. "Back. Now." A lift and turn of her attention back to Mira. "Drink it all, darlin'," she drawled -- or did her best through the exertion. "He doesn't need it anymore." A shake of her head, disrupting all that dark hair from the smooth way it had been tucked behind an ear. "Nope. Tom here is going to be leavin' us, and then we can have some quiet. Right, Tom?" How she managed to let calm ride stowaway in the casual way she spoke down at the man who she was currently grinding her knee into the cheek of, we'll never know. -d-
Huck: Tom was a flagrant and caustic type of guy, it was easily the main reason he hadn't survived long in the world. When you didn't give a fuck and spat in the face of everything and anything bigger than you. So some little cunny squatting on his shoulders and givin' out his booze, and tellin' him to evacuate the body. This was not going to fly. Not on his watch, but he also had to watch his fuckin' ire. Sleek and soft features crumpled from the bit of mirth when teeth grit and in drunken frustration he lurched his all. Fingers found the inside of her thighs, stomach clenched, and he aimed to launch with his all. "Geeeeeet tha' fuck offfaa me, ya' bleedin' twaaat." Yes, he wasn't going to be exorcised! Fuck that! He still had a good three hours left in 'em! He knew it. If launch was successful he would have rolled. Yes. Rolled. Sideways, longer than necessary before dizzily finding feet. Or if she was heavier than she looked, he would've just groaned and bit her really hard. <done>
Mira: "Do I have to drink it all?" Mira asked, shaking the bottle to eye what was left of it. "It tastes like burning death water." But considering how drunk Tom was, there probably wasn't a whole lot left in the bottle. So she shrugged and did as instructed. It wasn't going to be enough to get her wasted, but it might just be enough to get her a little buzzed. Now, if Mira knew what Freya was attempting, she'd be right down there screaming about how the power of Christ compels you. Never mind the fact that she was Jewish. As it was, she was just left staring, tilting her head slightly to one side, and setting the empty botttle down. A pack of cigarettes came from nowhere. A magic trick? Cleavage? Who the fuck knew, but it was certainly real enough, and she pulled a smoke from the pack and lit up, standing politely downwind of the pair. "Hey! Quit calling her a twat, you booze-soaked chucklefuck," came the New York drawl. If he rolled, she took off after him to try to tackle him down herself. If not? Well, she just stood there and winced when the bite came. If they managed to get Huck to arrive, she'd have to apologize for calling him that. But well, Tom kinda was a booze-soaked chucklefuck.
Freya: Seriously, where was Father North when you really needed him? Burning half-demons was bullshit, but exorcising a possessing ghost would be perfectly acceptable. Freya wasn't so offended by the name calling, he was drunk -- and even if they came from Huck's lips, it wasn't Huck saying it. "Out out out! I swear to fuck! He dug his hands in, tried to launch her off, but she wasn't heavier than she looked. Just stronger. So she stayed on, and her free hand slapped hard down on his forehead with a loud smack .. but the bite, where really all he could get to was her thigh? Ow. Not nice. Peckerhead! The pain of it sent her to the side; landing on her rump and giving Mira the opportunity to do her own tackling. This was not her night. Just not at all. Fed up, Freya just fell back in the grass; laying on her back with a throbby thigh and burn blisters that had opened back up where they'd begun to form seeped onto the inside of her jacket and oozed onto clean, pristine skin. "Fuck. Fuck. Fucking arsehole." Jaw clenched, and fingers rubbed furiously where the throb became a sting. "Gobshite, fucking gobshite. Does he know what the bloody hell you do with his body?! I'm telling him, Tom! Do you hear me?!" And she was so gonna make up lies, and then be super smugly satisfied when those lies turn out to be true. Like, duh. -d-
Huck: Maybe it was Tom's ire, or maybe the yelping. Or the strain on the body, but there was a return of consciousness. Somewhere. It stirred at him and left him blinking a little, while scooting backwards across the grass from Freya. He blew at the hair that hung in his face and up he went. Gotta get outta here! "YGobshite ya' bleedin' ass ya' blaawdy. twaaaa- Nngh." Little Mira successfully tackled the haphazardly wiggling Tom who's pants fell around his ankles. In his skivvies! Naked legged and crashing face first, without the awareness to deflect oncoming earth. Face planted into the grass and arms spasming out before smacking palms down and low groan, muffled into the dirt. The fairy girl he didn't know easily taking him to the ground in his current state. His head was spinning, felt dizzy, his face hurt. He could taste blood in his mouth. He could hear Freya something.. Ungh. His stomach twisted. Fingers curled in the grass. He could feel Mira. Aching in his face, shoulders, body. Fuck. Where was he.. what was happening. Slightly tweaked nose bled a little, but he barely even recognized it--everything hurt, but everything was numb too. And spinning still. Experiencing vertigo while laying flat across the earth. That was no bueno. "...oow." <done>
Mira: Cue the lunge. Mira was slight but scrappy, and if she had to she'd hang around his neck like a fucking deadweight if need be. Arms and legs tangled around Tom like she was moonlighting as a backpack, until he fell face first into the grass. "Cut the crap and apologize, you drunken shit!" That was ground out angrily, because now Freya was in pain and that did not sit well with her. At least it wasn't the real rage, the deep down rage, because that was the rage that put people six feet under. This was standard human anger, and it petered out a little when she felt him go sort of limp and sound sort of miserable. She picked herself up off of him, tugged down the hem of her dress--she was flashing little red panties all over the place--and rolled him onto his side. "Stay like that. Sideways. Otherwise you'll choke on your own barf like a washed up seventies rock star." And with Tom taken care of--or Huck now, but she didn't know that--she turned to Freya. "You okay?" she asked, watching where she was rubbing. A frown tugged at the corners of her generous mouth. That 'nothing to worry about' looked like it might be something to worry about. Currently, the faerie was standing somewhere between the two, situated to keep an eye on them both, considering she was the only one currently upright. The cigarette, which she'd left smoldering on the sidewalk, was stomped out beneath her dainty little ballet flat.
Freya: Mir-Mir ( which is totally pronounced in the way that the big boobed girl in the Thor movie's says Mjolnir, btw ) might have noticed the change in him, but Freya from her prone position a few feet away had yet to catch it. The sting in her thigh was not enough to take away from the burn on her chest -- which suddenly seemed to be more intense while she lay there, fuming. She might have let it stay too long. It felt like it was bubbling on the inside now, fizzing like something acidic on her clavicle and chest bone. But she kept on thinking Tom was still in there, sputtering out words through the clench of her teeth. "Call me a twat again, and you'll damn well regret it." Except probably not, because truthfully, she didn't want to hurt poor Huck. She'd already fed from him a little too much, and without permission. And tried to possibly give him a concussion. Totally awesome friend she was. Mira was standing over her then, and she'd find Frey with her eyes squeezed shut against the world. "Uh huh," gritted out in a too-quick response to the question rightfully shot her way, and she slowly opened up the thicket of her lashes to view Mira; eyes gone too dark, snuffing the silver out and replacing it with nearly black. "Doin' just fine," there came the flash of a forced smile, and she let her head flop to the side, realizing it'd gone way too quiet over yonder. "You didn't kill him, did ya, Mir? Tom?" A ghost in a ghost? Weiiird. -d-
Huck: Huckleberry remained prone on the ground some, not because of anything Mira did. It wasn't her fault, but what Tom did. He knew it was Tom. It was always Tom. Plus, the battered nose wasn't too bad. It was the... stretchy feeling. It was the spinning. The colors and fuzziness to the world that he woke to... and why was his ass cold? Why.... Ungh.. The belt buckle rattled a little when he twisted some and heard Mira say something. Stay there? Ugh. He did want to vomit. He felt like it anyways.. Are you okay? Oh shit, Freya.. did he do something? Ugh. No.. Tom. Speaking of the devil made him appear as an apparition violently swirling over Freya as she sat up and was speaking to Mira. She'd feel the blistering cold waves crawling along her skin when he threw a flurry of karate chops into, and through, her corporeal form. Spinning high kick across her chin. " Ya-ya! FUCKING TWAT. HUCK! You fuck! Come CHOP Freya in tha' throat." Huck watched and heard his brother's antics while he wormed down his pants and mumbled. "Spspht.. dhflk.." Oh fuck.. You're drunk. He turned some of his senses down by closing eyes and disabling his nasal air flow. "Wat... happened... I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to do anything. Sorry.. .. uh.." Huck didn't know her name. Tom did, but he was straightening out his orange suit while shaking his head. Free of all the wonderful sensations that Huck was now 'enjoying' and only his anger at being ousted. <done>
Mira: Freya was not okay. But unlike Tucker, Mira wasn't the sort of person who called people out on that unless they were actively bleeding to death in front of her. Instead, she dropped down to her knees next to the Alu-fiend, brushed her hair back from her forehead, and offered her up a sweet little kiss. "If you say so," she replied. She knew nothing of healing or feeding or what had happened to cause that awful injury, but this close, she could tell that it was starting to weep fluid. Mira popped back up to her feet, and she turned back to poor Tom-Huck on the grass. "No, he's alive. And feeling particularly apologetic. Maybe I slapped the drunken asshole right out of him or something? Why were you yelling at him about his brother, anyway? Feeling like...y'know. Couple puzzle pieces missing?" The curiosity had indeed come up during the scuffle, but that hadn't been a good time to ask questions. Now that everyone was done grappling and the little illusionist was the last woman standing, inquiries could be made. "You don't look so hot, Tom. Do you want some water or something?"
Freya: Freya, most decidedly, did not feel any chops or kicks, just a cold breeze that felt way too familiar and let her know what she'd hoped was true. Tom was getting handsy, but with hands that couldn't grab. "Good!," she barked out then. "Serves you right!" A middle finger was shot up in the air -- careful not to hit Mira now that she'd come that much closer. Pain contracted in her chest a little, and she spasmed with it; covering it up with some fake coughs, and shaking her head. "No .. no, he just came him back. That's not Tom. Mira, Huck, Huck, Mira." Tension rode in the way she forced herself to sit fully up; though she wasn't against using the warm fae girl some to help her task, leaving Mira with the sounds of little gasps and even the tiniest groan. She needed to touch it though, needed to feel that awful, but rather comforting pressure -- just as much as she'd needed to feel it burn when she'd been so mad after it happened. So her hand clamped over her jacket, over the burn, and Freya all but curled herself away from Mira so she could inwardly scream and not let anyone feel the way she went stiff as a board with it, and then trembled. "Hey, hey," she panted at Huck. "You're back. Welcome back. Are you okay?" -d-
Huck: Honestly, Huck would have liked to stand up, but he wasn't too sure he'd be able to just yet. Fingers that came back from his nostrils red and he wiped them off in the grass. A trickle of it dribbling onto his lip, but swipe of tongue wiped himself clean. "... .. Yeah.. no... Hey.. Huck... Mira... Hey Mira... I'm real... sorry.. About this..." He squirmed a little more and made sure his ass was back beneath slacks, and tightened belt. He pressed fingers against the ground and stood from where he had been tackled, a couple of feet away from where Freya had flopped and Mira had wandered to. Again he felt the earth hurtling through space and it made everything spin, equilibrium on the tilt and he made a pointed face. Lips pinched together and one eye closing, Huck the Sailor man trending all Americana, this Irish lad. "Oh shit.. oh fuck... did he .. Oh, shit... .did.. how.." He furrowed his brow a little while hands wiped down the front of his grass-stained dress-shirt. A dress shirt he never remembered owning. Oh yeah. Tom. He absently went about a drunken self-assessment, but face still blinked a little carefully. Not ready to get any closer, especially thinking branded flesh that Mira inspected was in anyway his fault. That's what asked. or wanted to ask, but couldn't find the headspace to summon that. Instead he just kind of pointed and then brought hand to cover bruising bridge of nose and bloodied lip. He could feel his blood pumping hot with whatever uppers Tom had stuffed into his nostril, but at the same time anchored and slowed by the whiskey in his belly. <done>
Mira: Congratulations, Miriam Roth! Not only are you the last one standing, you're also the only one who isn't a fucking mess right now. Tom-Huck was drunk and apparently two people at once, and Freya was in far more pain than she cared to let on. "Jesus. You guys both need to go to the infirmary or something." She didn't even know if Huck was a student. But surely they wouldn't turn down somebody in obvious need, right? She curled an arm around Freya while she was used as a support to stand, then let her pull free at her own discretion. Now that Huck was standing and not cursing a blue streak and trying to fondle her, she got a good look at him, and whatever she saw made her give a rapid shake of her head and a few surprised blinks. Weird. "I don't suppose you'll let me take the two of you down there? Or are you guys like me and you're going to be all pissy and fighty about it?" She smoothed a hand gently down Freya's back, then stepped towards Huck, who looked like he was having some serious stumbling issues. "Easy. It's okay. Who's Tom, then, if you're Huck?" Multiple personality disorder wasn't like...a generally accepted diagnosis anymore, duh. Everyone knew that. Everyone who was in Mira Roth's psych 101 class, at least. She tried to pull Huck and Freya close together so that she could better help both of them stand. The smart thing to do, she supposed, would have been to call for help. Who could she call at this hour? Will would probably come if she said there were people who needed aid, but he'd likely be surly about it, and she couldn't blame him. By now she had learned that Freya was the sister of Beth's impossibly hot boyfriend, mostly from talking to him around Lily Hall, but she didn't have his number. Ash? He'd whine. Gabriel? No. The list of people she could call was frightfully brief, and Mira found herself resigned to trying to navigate two people around.
Mira: Alice? Her mun was already in this scene.
Freya: Alice would also just laugh. And poke Huck's nose. And Freya's burn. She's a bitch.
Mira: Yeah no, Alice was mean to 95% of people. Best not chance it.
Freya: Now that Huck came stumbling closer, Freya got an even better look and caught the sight of his face; bloodied and bruised. He was asking if Tom had hurt her, but all she could focus for the moment was on his damn nose. ".. Did I break that?" Ever see a demon cry? You might be about to. Dark cloudy eyes filled with wet, and when Mira helped her to her feet, Freya didn't protest -- even though she'd only been going for sitting up. She figured if she could sit still, things weren't so bad. Standing though?! Then she was totes fine! The finerest! But she was clutching at Mira's arms, and shaking dark head at Huck before a single word burst out with air she hadn't realized she was holding in her lungs. "Crucifix." She'd asked him so politely to take his off -- now? He could see first hand why. Peeling her hand off her chest, parts of it that had actually touched the burn were covered in pus and charred flesh that had come from it. "I might need .. to feed." Mira was pushing them together with her super circus agility, and Freya's demon seemed to take right on over when she nearly collided into Huck. Grimy hand flattened onto his chest, fingers curling into the white shirt and with her last bit of strength, she jerked him a little closer so his mouth was close to hers. Energy sparked around her lips, pulled at his. Red and tangible, like flickering fire .. but it only lasted a few moments, before .. Freya lost it, and a whole bunch more. Going limp and slumping into Mira, passed out cold. -d-
Huck: He smelled like a stripper and swore there was a pube stuck in the back of his throat. He could taste blood in his mouth, his face felt puffy. Limbs were shakey, the world becoming a dock that shook a little too much for him. Mira helped though, she pulled in and he actually found some stability with fingers resting at her back. The blonde headed guy grunting some when he realized that wallet was missing and simultaneously earning a laugh from his brother's ghost. Yeah. Tomorrow was going to be an uncomfortable day of being led around on the night he had, till probably showing up to someone's house he didn't know to get a wallet that Tom probably hid in someone's medicine cabinet. Who fucking knew. Could've been a priest or a whore, anywhere in between, but he wasn't too worried. He blinked and eyed up the wound, but mumbled to Mira first breath heavy with that Irish burn. ".. eh... thanks.. my.. eh.. I'm fine.. not really... necessary.." Mun wasn't too sure what the healthcare system was like in England, but Huck didn't even have a wallet, and it sounded like a long ordeal he didn't need to go through. Not to mention he was pretty sure the number of illegal drugs going through his system would get him in more trouble than he needed. Wait. Fuck. Freya.. he was drunk and hadn't seen her coming, only staring at the pussy wound that he almost gave her that one time with his own cross. He felt his skin tingle and he shared the burn of whiskey, body tightening when energy was sopped up by the spongy succubus. Poor Mira, first she had to hold up Freya's form drawing curtains, and then she had the ghost talker slumping more on her. "Unnngh... oh fuck.. I can't my... legs... " He was falling and he was trying to hold onto Mira's shoulder so she'd keep him standing. HOW STRONG ARE YOU GIRL? <done>
Mira: Feed. "I can do that," she whispered to Freya. "I can do that." And when she saw how she went to Huck, she amended, softly, "Maybe we can do that." Assuming he wasn't too drunk to function, let alone get it up. Dark eyes watched the way that she pulled the energy from Huck's mouth, and Mira couldn't help the way her tongue drew across the corner of her lip. A moment later, she collapsed. "Freya! Freya? Fuck!" Carefully she went to lay the Alu-fiend on the grass, which meant that now Huck was falling on her. So here's how everyone ended up. Freya did make it onto her back in the grass. Mira, on the other hand, collapsed underneath Huck with a squeak. She was face down now, crimson dress streaked with grass and mud and riding too high on her thighs. "Fuck me," she said, in the way that was very much not an invitation and more of a statement of what the universe was doing to her right now. "Can you roll off, Huck? Get back on your side? I'll...I need to call somebody to get Freya." She didn't have her phone on her, but Freya surely had hers, right? She reached for it, tried to yoink it out of whatever pocket it was stashed in. There were very few mutual friends that they had that she was aware of, but Tucker was one. "And we need to make sure you have somewhere to sober up. Are you, um..." Because once she wriggled her way out from underneath him, she found herself staring. Staring right into eyes, at facial features, at the movements he made, as slow and as sluggish as they might have been. It was like trying to put together a piece of IKEA furniture with half the components missing. Mira caught herself, shook her head again. "Right. Sorry. Um. Do you have somewhere nearby where you can go? There's a couch in my quad, if you don't."
Freya: Smushed. So smushed.
Huck: Huck probably had a boner and it was probably pressed right against Mira's ass, but when demon's sapped you from your mouth. Well.. erections happened. Especially when because of said sapping you fall into a fairy's bum. She said something about fucking her, and he wasn't sure if he'd passed out and woken up after Tom again. Could've happened. When he was this fucked up he could lose control pretty quickly again. He thought he rolled off her, but instead only rolled half off her, boner tucked into the armpit and twisted limb of Freya. Unburnt shoulder, mind you, he was careful about that. This game of twister without the mat was going awry, he shifted a littlte and perused the burnt skin that was close, shifting face while blonde dangled and Mira was blinking right at him. He peered back with glassy blues and soft smile, the lethargic Irishman squirming so he was off Freya completely and falling on hisass. "Unngh.. couch.. quad... is she... is alright.. I think.." He mumbled, she was breathing, and he grinned up at the pretty Fae girl. Who looked at him like he wasn't quite right, he wasn't quite right though. He figured Tom must've been a real ass. Well, maybe not if she offered a couch. "... I don't want to puke on your couch." <done>
Mira: That...that was absolutely a dick pressed against her half-exposed ass. Look, this was Mira. She let Don take upskirt photos of her in a bar without giving so much as a flying fuck. She had zero shame. None. And she was pink along the cheeks now and wide-eyed on a hilarious level. Something surged in her blood. It was old, maybe older than her. Old and hot and beyond her understanding. It felt like the very few times she actually let herself fantasize about things she couldn't have, about the boy on the
other side of the quad with the beard and the tats and the kitten and the permanent case of eye-roll. He was off her just as fast, and the girl took a deep, stabilizing breath while she dug in Freya's jacket pockets for her phone. Thumb scrolled numbers. She perused, her face lit up by the phone's glow, catching in deep brown eyes that flicked back up to Huck's face like she was almost a little afraid of looking. "I'm calling for help," she explained, remembering the number for the school's infirmary. "They'll come get her. I don't think she's okay. That shit looks infected." Her smile softened when his did, and then it turned into that wry thing that sat on her mouth at an angle, left higher than right. "It's not my couch, it's the quad's couch. And you wouldn't be the first one or the last." The phone went up to her ear now, and she held up her index finger in a hang-on gesture while she spoke to the person on the other end. We need to get her to the infirmary, she's unconscious, she's a student named Freya Black, and all that. When the call ended, she positioned herself against Huck's other side, an arm sliding around him to keep him reasonably upright. "I live in Turner Hall. It's not far."
Miriam Roth { ignafatua@aol.com }, Huck Dyer { waittiligo@aol.com }, Freya Black { darkestiove@aol.com }
Summary:
Once left alone on the green, Freya makes to go home but is stopped by the very drunken arrival of Huckleberry Dyer, and followed a moment later by Mira. Freya knows something is off by Huck's behavior, even drunk, and together the girls coax it out of him. Freya, however, is much more hurt than she'd lead her brother to believe, and Mira takes action.
Triggers:
Language, some soft violence, a mention of rape. Really bad singing.
Huck: "Froooom gleeeen to gleeeeen." The Irish accent screamed in song from one end of the green as he wandered. "And dooooown, the mountain siiiiide!" Bottle of jameson was cheered to ghosts that only he could see, or anyone else with the sight. "The suuuuummer's gooooone...and all the floooooowers are...." He smelled fresh air and tipped head back before whiskey was drawn to his lips and the blonde-headed Tom walked backwards in stumbling steps. "Dyyyying..." He lost balance and crashed backwards onto a part of the grass that began to rise up into a small hill. More like a lump than a hill, really. He cracked back against it and laughed in a furious storm, sweat slick face a little paler than usual as Tom ran the body into the ground with his night out. He wandered back up with drug-addled mind, pills he took from strangers. Well, they took his wallet, so it was a fair trade. "TIS YOU.... TIS YOU MUST GO....." He pointed and sang louder when a stranger wandered by, they wandered faster before the wobbly character in dress-shirt, slacks, and black tie fought to give chase. He came up short, and they were gone, turning again on his heel and singing some more before returning to his path through the green. "... and I muuuuuust bide... Holy fuck... Freeeeeeeeeeeya... FREEEEEEEEYA." He took a page from Marlon Brando, giving his best representation of the infamous 'Stella'. He could see her about thirty yards off, and he was determined to get to her. "Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyaaaaaaaa!" Jameson was sucked at like a baby with his bottle, greedily slurping before waving in the air with a wide stretch of arm. <done>
Mira: Cooler weather beckoned to Mira. It always had, and now that she knew what she was, she was starting to understand why. It did little to physically phase her, and despite the chill, she was clad in nothing but a short wrap dress in a particularly vibrant hue of crimson and a pair of reasonably sensible dark gray flats. So much had happened, so much was on her mind, and she had thought that, perhaps, a walk would clear her head. It didn't. Or well, maybe it might have before there was somebody loudly and poorly singing on the Green. Jesus. Couldn't a girl just go out for a smoke and a think at fuck-all in the morning without getting an amazingly bad rendition of Danny Boy? She found herself walking in the direction of the voice, if only because it gave her a direction to go. She got there right as he started screaming for...Freya? Dark eyes widened and followed his general trajectory towards the woman, and the left side of her mouth--unpainted--quirked upwards while the rest remained a stoic line. "Christ," she said, coming up alongside the stranger, a hand held out to his arm so he didn't just fucking fall over in his attempts to reach the darkly pretty Alu-fiend. "Maybe you should put down the liquor, dude. I think you've had more than enough." And then, "Hi, Freya."
Freya: If there hadn't been the smell of burnt flesh over riding her senses, Freya might have picked up not one of, but two, far too familiar scents. Far too distracted, she'd missed the singing, or maybe just ignored it all together -- until the same voice was crooning off her name in a loud drag of an Irish laced drunk. And not just from his birth, but the whiskey that slurred his tongue. Frey turned Huck's way, brows furrowing closer to one another. For a man who tended to be quiet until prompted to make speech, this was a far different Huckleberry Dyer presenting himself. And there came Mira, pulling confused gray-blues from the tall blonde man, to the slender brunette. "Hello, Mira," she returned, red mouth quirking some in it's corner. "Here, let me help you with that." Frey darted forward then, in a nimble stride of long legs that ate up the distance quickly, and fit herself against Huck's side, sliding his arm over her shoulder; curling it inward a little to keep his heavy arm from hitting where she really didn't need it hitting at the moment. "Handsome, what have you done to yourself?" The inflection of a light scold rode her sultry tones, and her arm went about his waist; fingers making a playful grab for the soft fabric of Mira's dress near her back where she stood on the other side of him. "There's a bench comin' up, shall we?" -d-
Huck: "Oi. Faaaaack. Heeeeey thar lass...." Strangers that offered aid was found. He tight-roped across the sidewalk, using every bit of it each time he took a step until he found a thread to carry. It was a slightly angled edge that brought him into a crash alongside Mira. Hip checked her and arm thrust itself across her shoulder. He was six foot maybe a buck eighty, but he moved with intoxicated grace. The voice was horrendous. It was a man speaking with chords that didn't belong to him, not to mention the haze of liquor. "Oiiii oi.. oi... Oi... Oi.... Hey... Sup, lady." He said hi to Mira again and this time it was with a glossy-eyed leer close, a hand rising up to give her tit a grope. No Tom, we weren't in the strip club anymore. And no Tom... that wouldn't have been accepted there either. Right about the time he reached to grope, he simultaneously found Freya coming in again. "Heeeeeeeey.... thar' she blooooooows.... FUCK A BENCH." And whether or not Mira was molested or successfully defended herself he was in a dead sprint, intent on walking over the bench. The first step found the seat, the second step found the top of the bench, the third one found empty air and he wobbled mid-air. Phantom stair didn't work for ghosts either, well, at least not when they were possessing someone. He lurched and it was obvious how he valued things... Huck's body allowed to take the brunt of the fall with a grunt, but bottle was tipped. "I got it... I got it... Oi... fuck.. heeey.. ya'... got.. somethin' thar..." Able to see the discolored flesh now that his head was upside down and peering over at Mira and Freya. <done>
Mira: Well, well, well. Freya. Mira's eyes slid over her, and when they landed on her wound, her pretty mouth pulled into a slight frown. "Oh, man. What happened to you?" Fingers clawed into the back of her dress, and she sidled closer to Huck because it got her closer to Freya. "Want me to kill 'em?" she asked oh so sweetly. "Or would you prefer keeping the honor?" Tall, blonde, and stringy kept lurching along, and she worked as best she could with the darling demon to ease him towards the indicated bench, only to find herself sort of...half-grabbed for. Her free hand caught his wrist. "At least buy me a drink first?" she playfully scolded. Mira wasn't about to try to get to know this guy. Not while he was wasted, at least. Maybe when he sobered up she could properly introduce herself as something more than lady. So while Huck did his whole try to climb the bench thing, she stood, watched, made sure he didn't crack his fucking head open, and spoke to Freya. "You know, we're always meeting up in the most idiotic circumstances," she murmured, leaning around their drunk babysitting charge to peck a kiss to the corner of the Alu-fiend's mouth. "You know this guy? Considering he was screaming your name and everything." She glanced at him, decided he might be sort of sweet-looking if he wasn't beyond bombed. Honestly it was like watching a lost puppy go on a bender.
Freya: Well, she'd done a bad job trying to hide herself with the jacket. It really was the jacket's fault, though; the collar not high enough to cover the part of the crucifix burn that rode up the side of her throat, or the bit that ran down her chest. When Mira brought it up, she tried to shrug her jacket closer to her under the weight of Huck's arm. "It's nothin' to worry your pretty head over, love." A half laugh bubbled up, and she shook her head. "Nah, we'll keep him in one peice for now -- Oi!," she called sharply to him then when he was after grabbing tits he didn't have permission to go after. An `oi` very much like the one he kept barking out. "Watch the hands, buster." She was less playful in her scolding than Mira was, and simply because she knew that sober Huck was far more of a gentleman than .. oh shit. Realization shot through her like lightning, which made Freya stop in her tracks, giving Huck .. 's body .. a better opportunity to take off and head for the bench he was soon falling off of and leaving her staring after him a moment, then starting forth again to fall back into step with Mira. The winged thing ( minus the wings ) came saddling up, laying the softness of her mouth against the red matte of Freya's, and she slid an arm about the back of her -- though at the moment mercury gaze was stuck on poor Huck's face. "Sometimes, lovely, I wonder if I really do or not." A turn of her face, an the smear of a kiss returned to Mira's cheek, close to her bottom lip, before Freya dropped down to crouch in front of the upside down drunk. "Nothin' for you to worry on either," she gave a little knock to his forehead with a strum of her knuckles, whispering softly as she leaned in a little close. "Who's in there, huh?" -d-
Huck: Laying on the ground was easier than walking he found, but walking was more fun. He could lay down when he was dead. He grunted a little when he sat up, one arm catching the edge of bench and used to raise his body up. He managed to get aboard his knees and lurch arms over the top of the bench, bottle set down on the seat. Blue eyes were still glazed and wide when the two gals were peered at. Tongue hung out of his mouth a little. "Oh.. fook... oh fook... OH my fawkin' arse... Aw.. Aw.. fucck.. do som... Hey.. no.. here's a drink.." He thought the one girl, the one he didn't know, he forgot he grabbed at her breasts already. She asked for a drink... and he was wobbly while Freya approached and pressed knuckles to his head. He was a little clammy, maybe, but that was from running body into the ground. "Itttt''s whaaat... itt's meeee baby.. you din' forget me... It's his brotha'.. tha' good lookin' one." Shit you not he lurched forward when she leaned in closer and face planted between her tits, one arm curling around her waist while he stumbled into her. He pushed back on the girl, pushing her and angling so he could offer the re-snagged bottle of Jameson over to Mira. "Heeere.. for you.. for you.. you.. Look at what I did for you..." Special. He laughed some. Oh, obnoxious Tom, poor girls. <done>
Mira: Nothing to worry about? Fine, fine. She'd accept that answer, if only because it came with a kiss from the dark, drug-like girl. She offered Freya up a little subtle smolder, all eyes behind long lashes and a coy little twist of her mouth, and then turned to peer at this poor soul who she may or may not have known. "Hopefully his liver can handle that," Mira mused aloud. And then he was just falling forward and faceplanting in breasts. The fae pressed the side of her hand to her mouth in a clear attempt to stop herself from laughing. She mostly managed, getting out nothing more than a quiet squeak of amusement. Right in time for her to be presented with the bottle of Jameson like it was a fucking prize. "Oh, no. I couldn't, that's yours! What's your name, anyway?" She gently nudged the bottle away from her, and dark met quicksilver over the boozy stringbean's shoulder. "You know, I can't say life with you around isn't interesting, Freya. All I planned on doing was going out for a smoke and a walk, and instead I found...well." Her laughter rang soft and sweet through the cool night, and it was echoed faintly in the distance by something that shouldn't have been there but was there all the same, something unseen. She smoothed her hand against Freya's shoulder, careful to steer clear of what she could see of the wound on her flesh. It looked painful. Mira made a mental note to find whoever did it and choke them with their own intestines.
Freya: The bits of smolder from dark eyes were enough to bring a rumble of hunger in Freya's belly, and a little lower than that -- but unfortunately, she instead she was nearly toppled over by the heaviness of his frame when Huck's fucking brother decided her breasts were the best place to take a spill. Tom spilled secrets that Huck had only hinted at, and quick as a wink, Freya put two and two -- and probably four and four by now -- together. "Yeah," she cooed, and echoed Mira's question. "What's your name?" A warm palm was running up his back, since he'd wrapped himself about her waist. He'd feel the heat of it through the thin shirt he wore. It was a slow drag from the lowest point she could reach, and north. She was also shifting. Subtle moves, that only he'd feel -- Mira, close as she was, might not even see it, or even detect it when she smoothed her touch along Freya's shoulder. A tilt of her head lifted her face to Mira, standing there above where Freya crouched, and the drunk one was more than likely trying to put his hands in her clothing. "You'll have to forgive my rudeness, sweetness. It's about to get more interesting. You should take the bottle." Cause if not, poor Tom was going to get heartbroken, when Freya used succu-strength on him now that her hand had moved over his shoulder was caressing up his throat. A caress that turned to a shove beneath his jaw to let fingers clench there, and shove -- following the shove until he was flat on his back and she was kneeling on his shoulders. "Where's your brother?," she hissed down at him. Riding still on the residual far too pissed off that Father Tucker had managed to get the drop on her, and now this? Fuck tonight. -d-
Huck: Tom wasn't aware of smoldering eyes or pulsating clams, if he had he would've pulled out his phone and played some porn music and suggest a deep-sea excursion. As it was he was too busy trying to keep a party going with people who apparently only now were getting the invite. Two people were asking him what his name was, now he had to adjust and remember who it was he was with. Oh yeah. Freya and that girl. "Oi, you know me... girl.. fuckin' Tom.. fuck.. " He told her his name was Huck that first time they met. "... wha..." And the drunken guy was laid out on his back without even knowing how he got there. He was already getting back up when she was on top of him and he grunting again when knees bruised shoulders and he tilted his head towards the hand still toting bottle. There was about a 1/3 left. "Heeeeeey.. what tha' bloody heeeeelll.... RAPE..... RAAAAAAAAPE..... RAAAAAAAPE." Top of his lungs. Danny Boy had nothing on his yells that came among grunts and laughs. He pushed shoulders up, but legs sprawled about. He actually considered kicking her in the back of her head. Well, he actually tried, but Huck's body wasn't nearly as limber as his had been. Or maybe he was really drunk. All he managed to do was squirm down a bit and cause pants to pull down to his thighs revealing the tightie whitie Hanes beneath. "Oiiii... you... girl... there... go get help.. call an adult." <done>
Mira: Get the booze? Got it. Get the booze. A split second before Freya came in to grab the guy by the throat, Mira was there too, plucking the bottle of Jameson neatly from his hand. "I'll just keep this safe for a minute, shall I?" she asked, curiosity couched in mischief in her tone. "A pleasure to meet you, Tom. I'm Miriam." She didn't expect him to remember that for so much as a fraction of a second, even with the way he was being grabbed and tussled with. He was way too drunk to have any sort of working memory of this night, she figured. While Freya grappled with him and demanded to know where his brother was--ooh, he had a brother, maybe his brother drank less and would be better company--she took the offer that Tom had made her. She opened the bottle and took a pull, like it was popcorn at a movie theater and tonight's feature film was Alu-fiend Versus Drunk Guy. Mira screwed up her face because it burned like a motherfucker going down. She was faerie, for fuck's sake, she preferred her alcohol sweet and fruity. "Jesus. How does anybody drink this straight?" As Tom's pants went down, though, she snickered and took a second drink. "Suppose that's enough for two gropes," she murmured, though largely to herself. Not that she necessarily cared if Tom heard her. Freya certainly hadn't lied about the more interesting part. "Need a hand, prettything?" she asked Freya, putting the bottle down somewhere safe nearby and preparing to leap in if need be.
Freya: All that moving around only had Freya digging her knees in harder to hold him down; planting her ass down firmly on his chest in the process, to bear down and ride it out like she was on a bucking bronco, while he decided that rape was the best thing to yell out on a university campus. The hiss she shot down at his face was an unnatural thing, and she tightened the clamp she had on his esophagus to try to shut his mouth up. "Give him back!" She wasn't all together certain how the whole thing worked, having only borne witness to the exchange once, and she hadn't really been paying attention when they switched. He was so squirmy, and she was about to lose the placement of her knees, and the move was swift that had her knee colliding with the side of his head. Maybe that would work? She did it again. "Back. Now." A lift and turn of her attention back to Mira. "Drink it all, darlin'," she drawled -- or did her best through the exertion. "He doesn't need it anymore." A shake of her head, disrupting all that dark hair from the smooth way it had been tucked behind an ear. "Nope. Tom here is going to be leavin' us, and then we can have some quiet. Right, Tom?" How she managed to let calm ride stowaway in the casual way she spoke down at the man who she was currently grinding her knee into the cheek of, we'll never know. -d-
Huck: Tom was a flagrant and caustic type of guy, it was easily the main reason he hadn't survived long in the world. When you didn't give a fuck and spat in the face of everything and anything bigger than you. So some little cunny squatting on his shoulders and givin' out his booze, and tellin' him to evacuate the body. This was not going to fly. Not on his watch, but he also had to watch his fuckin' ire. Sleek and soft features crumpled from the bit of mirth when teeth grit and in drunken frustration he lurched his all. Fingers found the inside of her thighs, stomach clenched, and he aimed to launch with his all. "Geeeeeet tha' fuck offfaa me, ya' bleedin' twaaat." Yes, he wasn't going to be exorcised! Fuck that! He still had a good three hours left in 'em! He knew it. If launch was successful he would have rolled. Yes. Rolled. Sideways, longer than necessary before dizzily finding feet. Or if she was heavier than she looked, he would've just groaned and bit her really hard. <done>
Mira: "Do I have to drink it all?" Mira asked, shaking the bottle to eye what was left of it. "It tastes like burning death water." But considering how drunk Tom was, there probably wasn't a whole lot left in the bottle. So she shrugged and did as instructed. It wasn't going to be enough to get her wasted, but it might just be enough to get her a little buzzed. Now, if Mira knew what Freya was attempting, she'd be right down there screaming about how the power of Christ compels you. Never mind the fact that she was Jewish. As it was, she was just left staring, tilting her head slightly to one side, and setting the empty botttle down. A pack of cigarettes came from nowhere. A magic trick? Cleavage? Who the fuck knew, but it was certainly real enough, and she pulled a smoke from the pack and lit up, standing politely downwind of the pair. "Hey! Quit calling her a twat, you booze-soaked chucklefuck," came the New York drawl. If he rolled, she took off after him to try to tackle him down herself. If not? Well, she just stood there and winced when the bite came. If they managed to get Huck to arrive, she'd have to apologize for calling him that. But well, Tom kinda was a booze-soaked chucklefuck.
Freya: Seriously, where was Father North when you really needed him? Burning half-demons was bullshit, but exorcising a possessing ghost would be perfectly acceptable. Freya wasn't so offended by the name calling, he was drunk -- and even if they came from Huck's lips, it wasn't Huck saying it. "Out out out! I swear to fuck! He dug his hands in, tried to launch her off, but she wasn't heavier than she looked. Just stronger. So she stayed on, and her free hand slapped hard down on his forehead with a loud smack .. but the bite, where really all he could get to was her thigh? Ow. Not nice. Peckerhead! The pain of it sent her to the side; landing on her rump and giving Mira the opportunity to do her own tackling. This was not her night. Just not at all. Fed up, Freya just fell back in the grass; laying on her back with a throbby thigh and burn blisters that had opened back up where they'd begun to form seeped onto the inside of her jacket and oozed onto clean, pristine skin. "Fuck. Fuck. Fucking arsehole." Jaw clenched, and fingers rubbed furiously where the throb became a sting. "Gobshite, fucking gobshite. Does he know what the bloody hell you do with his body?! I'm telling him, Tom! Do you hear me?!" And she was so gonna make up lies, and then be super smugly satisfied when those lies turn out to be true. Like, duh. -d-
Huck: Maybe it was Tom's ire, or maybe the yelping. Or the strain on the body, but there was a return of consciousness. Somewhere. It stirred at him and left him blinking a little, while scooting backwards across the grass from Freya. He blew at the hair that hung in his face and up he went. Gotta get outta here! "YGobshite ya' bleedin' ass ya' blaawdy. twaaaa- Nngh." Little Mira successfully tackled the haphazardly wiggling Tom who's pants fell around his ankles. In his skivvies! Naked legged and crashing face first, without the awareness to deflect oncoming earth. Face planted into the grass and arms spasming out before smacking palms down and low groan, muffled into the dirt. The fairy girl he didn't know easily taking him to the ground in his current state. His head was spinning, felt dizzy, his face hurt. He could taste blood in his mouth. He could hear Freya something.. Ungh. His stomach twisted. Fingers curled in the grass. He could feel Mira. Aching in his face, shoulders, body. Fuck. Where was he.. what was happening. Slightly tweaked nose bled a little, but he barely even recognized it--everything hurt, but everything was numb too. And spinning still. Experiencing vertigo while laying flat across the earth. That was no bueno. "...oow." <done>
Mira: Cue the lunge. Mira was slight but scrappy, and if she had to she'd hang around his neck like a fucking deadweight if need be. Arms and legs tangled around Tom like she was moonlighting as a backpack, until he fell face first into the grass. "Cut the crap and apologize, you drunken shit!" That was ground out angrily, because now Freya was in pain and that did not sit well with her. At least it wasn't the real rage, the deep down rage, because that was the rage that put people six feet under. This was standard human anger, and it petered out a little when she felt him go sort of limp and sound sort of miserable. She picked herself up off of him, tugged down the hem of her dress--she was flashing little red panties all over the place--and rolled him onto his side. "Stay like that. Sideways. Otherwise you'll choke on your own barf like a washed up seventies rock star." And with Tom taken care of--or Huck now, but she didn't know that--she turned to Freya. "You okay?" she asked, watching where she was rubbing. A frown tugged at the corners of her generous mouth. That 'nothing to worry about' looked like it might be something to worry about. Currently, the faerie was standing somewhere between the two, situated to keep an eye on them both, considering she was the only one currently upright. The cigarette, which she'd left smoldering on the sidewalk, was stomped out beneath her dainty little ballet flat.
Freya: Mir-Mir ( which is totally pronounced in the way that the big boobed girl in the Thor movie's says Mjolnir, btw ) might have noticed the change in him, but Freya from her prone position a few feet away had yet to catch it. The sting in her thigh was not enough to take away from the burn on her chest -- which suddenly seemed to be more intense while she lay there, fuming. She might have let it stay too long. It felt like it was bubbling on the inside now, fizzing like something acidic on her clavicle and chest bone. But she kept on thinking Tom was still in there, sputtering out words through the clench of her teeth. "Call me a twat again, and you'll damn well regret it." Except probably not, because truthfully, she didn't want to hurt poor Huck. She'd already fed from him a little too much, and without permission. And tried to possibly give him a concussion. Totally awesome friend she was. Mira was standing over her then, and she'd find Frey with her eyes squeezed shut against the world. "Uh huh," gritted out in a too-quick response to the question rightfully shot her way, and she slowly opened up the thicket of her lashes to view Mira; eyes gone too dark, snuffing the silver out and replacing it with nearly black. "Doin' just fine," there came the flash of a forced smile, and she let her head flop to the side, realizing it'd gone way too quiet over yonder. "You didn't kill him, did ya, Mir? Tom?" A ghost in a ghost? Weiiird. -d-
Huck: Huckleberry remained prone on the ground some, not because of anything Mira did. It wasn't her fault, but what Tom did. He knew it was Tom. It was always Tom. Plus, the battered nose wasn't too bad. It was the... stretchy feeling. It was the spinning. The colors and fuzziness to the world that he woke to... and why was his ass cold? Why.... Ungh.. The belt buckle rattled a little when he twisted some and heard Mira say something. Stay there? Ugh. He did want to vomit. He felt like it anyways.. Are you okay? Oh shit, Freya.. did he do something? Ugh. No.. Tom. Speaking of the devil made him appear as an apparition violently swirling over Freya as she sat up and was speaking to Mira. She'd feel the blistering cold waves crawling along her skin when he threw a flurry of karate chops into, and through, her corporeal form. Spinning high kick across her chin. " Ya-ya! FUCKING TWAT. HUCK! You fuck! Come CHOP Freya in tha' throat." Huck watched and heard his brother's antics while he wormed down his pants and mumbled. "Spspht.. dhflk.." Oh fuck.. You're drunk. He turned some of his senses down by closing eyes and disabling his nasal air flow. "Wat... happened... I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to do anything. Sorry.. .. uh.." Huck didn't know her name. Tom did, but he was straightening out his orange suit while shaking his head. Free of all the wonderful sensations that Huck was now 'enjoying' and only his anger at being ousted. <done>
Mira: Freya was not okay. But unlike Tucker, Mira wasn't the sort of person who called people out on that unless they were actively bleeding to death in front of her. Instead, she dropped down to her knees next to the Alu-fiend, brushed her hair back from her forehead, and offered her up a sweet little kiss. "If you say so," she replied. She knew nothing of healing or feeding or what had happened to cause that awful injury, but this close, she could tell that it was starting to weep fluid. Mira popped back up to her feet, and she turned back to poor Tom-Huck on the grass. "No, he's alive. And feeling particularly apologetic. Maybe I slapped the drunken asshole right out of him or something? Why were you yelling at him about his brother, anyway? Feeling like...y'know. Couple puzzle pieces missing?" The curiosity had indeed come up during the scuffle, but that hadn't been a good time to ask questions. Now that everyone was done grappling and the little illusionist was the last woman standing, inquiries could be made. "You don't look so hot, Tom. Do you want some water or something?"
Freya: Freya, most decidedly, did not feel any chops or kicks, just a cold breeze that felt way too familiar and let her know what she'd hoped was true. Tom was getting handsy, but with hands that couldn't grab. "Good!," she barked out then. "Serves you right!" A middle finger was shot up in the air -- careful not to hit Mira now that she'd come that much closer. Pain contracted in her chest a little, and she spasmed with it; covering it up with some fake coughs, and shaking her head. "No .. no, he just came him back. That's not Tom. Mira, Huck, Huck, Mira." Tension rode in the way she forced herself to sit fully up; though she wasn't against using the warm fae girl some to help her task, leaving Mira with the sounds of little gasps and even the tiniest groan. She needed to touch it though, needed to feel that awful, but rather comforting pressure -- just as much as she'd needed to feel it burn when she'd been so mad after it happened. So her hand clamped over her jacket, over the burn, and Freya all but curled herself away from Mira so she could inwardly scream and not let anyone feel the way she went stiff as a board with it, and then trembled. "Hey, hey," she panted at Huck. "You're back. Welcome back. Are you okay?" -d-
Huck: Honestly, Huck would have liked to stand up, but he wasn't too sure he'd be able to just yet. Fingers that came back from his nostrils red and he wiped them off in the grass. A trickle of it dribbling onto his lip, but swipe of tongue wiped himself clean. "... .. Yeah.. no... Hey.. Huck... Mira... Hey Mira... I'm real... sorry.. About this..." He squirmed a little more and made sure his ass was back beneath slacks, and tightened belt. He pressed fingers against the ground and stood from where he had been tackled, a couple of feet away from where Freya had flopped and Mira had wandered to. Again he felt the earth hurtling through space and it made everything spin, equilibrium on the tilt and he made a pointed face. Lips pinched together and one eye closing, Huck the Sailor man trending all Americana, this Irish lad. "Oh shit.. oh fuck... did he .. Oh, shit... .did.. how.." He furrowed his brow a little while hands wiped down the front of his grass-stained dress-shirt. A dress shirt he never remembered owning. Oh yeah. Tom. He absently went about a drunken self-assessment, but face still blinked a little carefully. Not ready to get any closer, especially thinking branded flesh that Mira inspected was in anyway his fault. That's what asked. or wanted to ask, but couldn't find the headspace to summon that. Instead he just kind of pointed and then brought hand to cover bruising bridge of nose and bloodied lip. He could feel his blood pumping hot with whatever uppers Tom had stuffed into his nostril, but at the same time anchored and slowed by the whiskey in his belly. <done>
Mira: Congratulations, Miriam Roth! Not only are you the last one standing, you're also the only one who isn't a fucking mess right now. Tom-Huck was drunk and apparently two people at once, and Freya was in far more pain than she cared to let on. "Jesus. You guys both need to go to the infirmary or something." She didn't even know if Huck was a student. But surely they wouldn't turn down somebody in obvious need, right? She curled an arm around Freya while she was used as a support to stand, then let her pull free at her own discretion. Now that Huck was standing and not cursing a blue streak and trying to fondle her, she got a good look at him, and whatever she saw made her give a rapid shake of her head and a few surprised blinks. Weird. "I don't suppose you'll let me take the two of you down there? Or are you guys like me and you're going to be all pissy and fighty about it?" She smoothed a hand gently down Freya's back, then stepped towards Huck, who looked like he was having some serious stumbling issues. "Easy. It's okay. Who's Tom, then, if you're Huck?" Multiple personality disorder wasn't like...a generally accepted diagnosis anymore, duh. Everyone knew that. Everyone who was in Mira Roth's psych 101 class, at least. She tried to pull Huck and Freya close together so that she could better help both of them stand. The smart thing to do, she supposed, would have been to call for help. Who could she call at this hour? Will would probably come if she said there were people who needed aid, but he'd likely be surly about it, and she couldn't blame him. By now she had learned that Freya was the sister of Beth's impossibly hot boyfriend, mostly from talking to him around Lily Hall, but she didn't have his number. Ash? He'd whine. Gabriel? No. The list of people she could call was frightfully brief, and Mira found herself resigned to trying to navigate two people around.
Mira: Alice? Her mun was already in this scene.
Freya: Alice would also just laugh. And poke Huck's nose. And Freya's burn. She's a bitch.
Mira: Yeah no, Alice was mean to 95% of people. Best not chance it.
Freya: Now that Huck came stumbling closer, Freya got an even better look and caught the sight of his face; bloodied and bruised. He was asking if Tom had hurt her, but all she could focus for the moment was on his damn nose. ".. Did I break that?" Ever see a demon cry? You might be about to. Dark cloudy eyes filled with wet, and when Mira helped her to her feet, Freya didn't protest -- even though she'd only been going for sitting up. She figured if she could sit still, things weren't so bad. Standing though?! Then she was totes fine! The finerest! But she was clutching at Mira's arms, and shaking dark head at Huck before a single word burst out with air she hadn't realized she was holding in her lungs. "Crucifix." She'd asked him so politely to take his off -- now? He could see first hand why. Peeling her hand off her chest, parts of it that had actually touched the burn were covered in pus and charred flesh that had come from it. "I might need .. to feed." Mira was pushing them together with her super circus agility, and Freya's demon seemed to take right on over when she nearly collided into Huck. Grimy hand flattened onto his chest, fingers curling into the white shirt and with her last bit of strength, she jerked him a little closer so his mouth was close to hers. Energy sparked around her lips, pulled at his. Red and tangible, like flickering fire .. but it only lasted a few moments, before .. Freya lost it, and a whole bunch more. Going limp and slumping into Mira, passed out cold. -d-
Huck: He smelled like a stripper and swore there was a pube stuck in the back of his throat. He could taste blood in his mouth, his face felt puffy. Limbs were shakey, the world becoming a dock that shook a little too much for him. Mira helped though, she pulled in and he actually found some stability with fingers resting at her back. The blonde headed guy grunting some when he realized that wallet was missing and simultaneously earning a laugh from his brother's ghost. Yeah. Tomorrow was going to be an uncomfortable day of being led around on the night he had, till probably showing up to someone's house he didn't know to get a wallet that Tom probably hid in someone's medicine cabinet. Who fucking knew. Could've been a priest or a whore, anywhere in between, but he wasn't too worried. He blinked and eyed up the wound, but mumbled to Mira first breath heavy with that Irish burn. ".. eh... thanks.. my.. eh.. I'm fine.. not really... necessary.." Mun wasn't too sure what the healthcare system was like in England, but Huck didn't even have a wallet, and it sounded like a long ordeal he didn't need to go through. Not to mention he was pretty sure the number of illegal drugs going through his system would get him in more trouble than he needed. Wait. Fuck. Freya.. he was drunk and hadn't seen her coming, only staring at the pussy wound that he almost gave her that one time with his own cross. He felt his skin tingle and he shared the burn of whiskey, body tightening when energy was sopped up by the spongy succubus. Poor Mira, first she had to hold up Freya's form drawing curtains, and then she had the ghost talker slumping more on her. "Unnngh... oh fuck.. I can't my... legs... " He was falling and he was trying to hold onto Mira's shoulder so she'd keep him standing. HOW STRONG ARE YOU GIRL? <done>
Mira: Feed. "I can do that," she whispered to Freya. "I can do that." And when she saw how she went to Huck, she amended, softly, "Maybe we can do that." Assuming he wasn't too drunk to function, let alone get it up. Dark eyes watched the way that she pulled the energy from Huck's mouth, and Mira couldn't help the way her tongue drew across the corner of her lip. A moment later, she collapsed. "Freya! Freya? Fuck!" Carefully she went to lay the Alu-fiend on the grass, which meant that now Huck was falling on her. So here's how everyone ended up. Freya did make it onto her back in the grass. Mira, on the other hand, collapsed underneath Huck with a squeak. She was face down now, crimson dress streaked with grass and mud and riding too high on her thighs. "Fuck me," she said, in the way that was very much not an invitation and more of a statement of what the universe was doing to her right now. "Can you roll off, Huck? Get back on your side? I'll...I need to call somebody to get Freya." She didn't have her phone on her, but Freya surely had hers, right? She reached for it, tried to yoink it out of whatever pocket it was stashed in. There were very few mutual friends that they had that she was aware of, but Tucker was one. "And we need to make sure you have somewhere to sober up. Are you, um..." Because once she wriggled her way out from underneath him, she found herself staring. Staring right into eyes, at facial features, at the movements he made, as slow and as sluggish as they might have been. It was like trying to put together a piece of IKEA furniture with half the components missing. Mira caught herself, shook her head again. "Right. Sorry. Um. Do you have somewhere nearby where you can go? There's a couch in my quad, if you don't."
Freya: Smushed. So smushed.
Huck: Huck probably had a boner and it was probably pressed right against Mira's ass, but when demon's sapped you from your mouth. Well.. erections happened. Especially when because of said sapping you fall into a fairy's bum. She said something about fucking her, and he wasn't sure if he'd passed out and woken up after Tom again. Could've happened. When he was this fucked up he could lose control pretty quickly again. He thought he rolled off her, but instead only rolled half off her, boner tucked into the armpit and twisted limb of Freya. Unburnt shoulder, mind you, he was careful about that. This game of twister without the mat was going awry, he shifted a littlte and perused the burnt skin that was close, shifting face while blonde dangled and Mira was blinking right at him. He peered back with glassy blues and soft smile, the lethargic Irishman squirming so he was off Freya completely and falling on hisass. "Unngh.. couch.. quad... is she... is alright.. I think.." He mumbled, she was breathing, and he grinned up at the pretty Fae girl. Who looked at him like he wasn't quite right, he wasn't quite right though. He figured Tom must've been a real ass. Well, maybe not if she offered a couch. "... I don't want to puke on your couch." <done>
Mira: That...that was absolutely a dick pressed against her half-exposed ass. Look, this was Mira. She let Don take upskirt photos of her in a bar without giving so much as a flying fuck. She had zero shame. None. And she was pink along the cheeks now and wide-eyed on a hilarious level. Something surged in her blood. It was old, maybe older than her. Old and hot and beyond her understanding. It felt like the very few times she actually let herself fantasize about things she couldn't have, about the boy on the
other side of the quad with the beard and the tats and the kitten and the permanent case of eye-roll. He was off her just as fast, and the girl took a deep, stabilizing breath while she dug in Freya's jacket pockets for her phone. Thumb scrolled numbers. She perused, her face lit up by the phone's glow, catching in deep brown eyes that flicked back up to Huck's face like she was almost a little afraid of looking. "I'm calling for help," she explained, remembering the number for the school's infirmary. "They'll come get her. I don't think she's okay. That shit looks infected." Her smile softened when his did, and then it turned into that wry thing that sat on her mouth at an angle, left higher than right. "It's not my couch, it's the quad's couch. And you wouldn't be the first one or the last." The phone went up to her ear now, and she held up her index finger in a hang-on gesture while she spoke to the person on the other end. We need to get her to the infirmary, she's unconscious, she's a student named Freya Black, and all that. When the call ended, she positioned herself against Huck's other side, an arm sliding around him to keep him reasonably upright. "I live in Turner Hall. It's not far."