i remember when we were gambling to win ( closed )

[cons]

CHARACTERS: Wichita & Team Jailbait ( party crashing rights to moriarty/sebastian/neal/holmes/blake )
LOCATION: Justin and Brian's space bar.
WARNINGS: ..underage drinking, maybe. oops. talk of character death and the other messed up, hellish things that happen on the ship.
SUMMARY: Wichita's dealing with things the best way she knows how - drinking, and making people drink with her.
NOTES: tag in at your own pace. we can do multiple threads, threadjack, whatever. have at it. :D

[ it's been a week. just about. a whole week since Sherlock Holmes was found dead in a pool and Wichita still feels like absolute shit about it. what's that about? it's one thing, you know, when somebody's on the ship one minute then gone just a few months later, disappearing or never coming back after a jump, but. but Sherlock- it was permanent, wasn't it? and very real. and when someone gets lost on the ship, there's always that chance they'll come back. they'll be exhausted and confused, but they come back. Sherlock wouldn't, not the same as before at least, and it was weighing her down a lot more than she thought it would. then again, she felt this way when they found the painter dead too, and she hardly knew him, hardly.

the fact that she cares is weird. really weird, considering she was literally surrounded by death back in her home world, before she got here, and it was easy to let it all slide over her like driving past roadkill on the road to Pacific Playland.

things change though, right? that's the phrase? things change, people change. she didn't like to think about the changes she's been through since she got on this freaking spaceship, because they all make her feel a lot weaker than she was at home. weaker, vulnerable. someone's dead and she's sad about it, still. a week later.

so she's doing what she always does, albiet a few days too late - she's going to get drunk. properly trashed, because it's easier than dealing with being sad over someone being dead. and maybe that's unhealthy, and stupid, and dangerous when any step she takes on this damn boat could be her last, but she doesn't care. like, at all. which is kind of just as scary as being sad over somebody being dead. so she'll put on a brave face. brave, or sarcastic, uncaring. whatever. she'll put on a face and pretend she's getting drunk just to throw a wrench in the monotony of living here, convince people to join her because that makes it easier to distract herself.

ugh, whatever. where'd that bottle go? and where are her friends.

( f r i e n d s. that's a weird one to think out-loud. let's maybe never use that word again. ) ]

Comments

[cons]

Where did you fi- Hey.

[ RUDE.

but she's laughing, reaching for her wallet with her free hand. some part of her is flabbergasted, the other fully aware that it's her own fault for getting this drunk, for not being as aware as she might normally be. and she really just wants to exact revenge in some ridiculous way right now, biting his shoulder or, ah, his lip. but she knows better. so, later! later she will get her revenge. when they aren't in a room full of people. ]

You've been waiting for a reason to do that, haven't you? You just wait, you're gonna be missing your specs sometime soon and I'll be long gone with them. Or maybe that watch. Or your shoes!

[dirtyword]

What's wrong with my shoes? [ Those loafers are the coolest, okay? But he keeps his arm around her again, and can't help but grin. ]

And you wouldn't steal my specs, dollface. You haven't got the guts. [ A challenge: a silent try me. ]

[cons]

There's nothing wrong with them at all, Grandpa.

[ OHOHO. also she's not going to comment on that second part, instead just gritting her teeth at him a bit: challenge accepted ]

[dirtyword]

Yeah, well, these shoes saved my life, so. [ don't make fun of his loafers ok. He's just going to...awkwardly shuffle. ]

[cons]

Did they really? Tell me how. [ like a 4 year-old. ] Tell me, tell me.

[dirtyword]

[ Wichita you are drunk and cute but also Brendan is tipsy so this means you get life stories, lady. He lifts an arm. ]

Y'know the duct tape on my jacket?

[cons]

I know of it.

[dirtyword]

Hired blade. [ He shrugs. ] Snuck up on me before I could heel it, did a number on my arm instead of my neck. If it weren't for slipping these off and tripping the poor sap after running, I'd probably look a lot different.

[cons]

Oh. Oh! That's that scar? I never put that together. [ her eyes drop to that patch now, head tilting a bit with it, and she's reaching to cover up the duct tape with her hand, like she can patch him all up now, after the fact. ] Jesus, Brendan. [ and now she's getting cuddly without even realizing it, her nose bumping his cheekbone because some part of her knows she should probably try and be hushhush about this, and talking quieter means leaning closer, right? or whatever. ugh she's too drunk to think it through. ] Why would anybody wanna cut you up like that?

[dirtyword]

[ Brendan allows the touch--welcomes it--because he's still got a hand on her hip and he's nuzzling her, now. Kissing her neck affectionately. Looking more like a dog than a human now that his nose is near her ear, allowing himself a smile. ]

Grudge. I was looking for something, had to knock a few heads together to get a trail. Someone had money and didn't like the fact that I won.

[cons]

You sound smug. [ or maybe it's just that tell he's smiling because he's kissing her, or that she's smiling because he's kissing her. she can't figure it out either way. ] Do you like picking fights?

[dirtyword]

Nah, I don't pick 'em. [ Though okay, maybe he does--but only for reasons. He dislikes pretty much everyone in his school, everyone he comes in contact with. Picking fights needlessly would be pretty damn stupid. ] I just make sure to use the easiest way to get what I want.

[cons]

Hm. Well. Warn a girl if you ever decide to use that tactic here. [ she's ducking her face a bit, eventually leaning back so she can look him in the eyes ] The last thing I need to do is kick somebody's ass for kicking your ass when you went around asking for it.

[dirtyword]

[ Brendan's scoffing because--really? Really? Someone going out on a limb for him is practically unheard of. He glances over, though, and once he realizes she's serious his expression goes from confused to flattered to wary. ]

...What's the catch?

[cons]

No catch. [ she's leaning in close again, just so she can talk right next to his ear. ] You just have to promise- [ this is where Wichita whispers something stupidly smutty and specific about the stuff they get up to in private, something she's really only saying out loud because she's really drunk. ] Mn, I think that'll cover it.

[dirtyword]

[ That--

well

That was....

uhm.

For one, Brendan's glad that his hair is long--because his ears turn red when he's embarrassed and while he normally isn't the type to shy away from things like this. On the contrary--but this is public and he's drunk and she's drunk and he takes a note from Dashiell Hammett, taking Wichita by the waist and bending her back, dipping her from the bar stool, wishing he had Hayley's fedora to top the picture off as his lips met hers. ]