spice is the variety of death...? idek

[lucetimods]

Who: Everyone who wants to be here! ...Again!
What: Total Recall 2014, Part 2
When: The second week of the event, roughly April 17th-22nd. As in the last log, the start date is flexible. The end date less so.
Where: All over blah blah blah
Summary: More chaos, more madness, everyone is just so done with this nonsense gosh
Rating: Varied. Anything too high-rated goes to appointments!


Slow but steady, here is the second log for the event. As before, feel free to have your characters post their own entries if you'd rather do that. Here is the first log as well.

Comments

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

['Good time' is not quite how Ginia would put things. But as it remains, she can always come back for a drink while he's wasted.

She taps her message. Location?]

[wasteddreams]

[Good enough time. Sarcasm helps.]

Jus' got here today...don't have a place to stay.

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Ah. Ginia knows he has a place in Flame Building, but the door is probably locked and if Marco is around and unaffected, she doesn't want to leave Jean with him to deal with.

...Fine, her place then. There's a bed in one of the bedrooms. She pockets her notepad and pen and stands, rotating his chair. Come on, let's go.]

[wasteddreams]

[He heaves himself off the stool, swaying as soon as his feet hit the floor; he grabs the bar counter next to him.]

Taking me home with you?

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Wouldn't be the first person from the Military Police she's taken home. But he only gets a flat glare as she drapes one of his arms across her shoulders and wraps the other around his waist for stability.]

[wasteddreams]

[He complies as she directs his body.] Never gone home with anyone from the damn Survey Corps before. You feel special?

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Feeling like a goddamn princess. Off they go now. Really, keep egging her on, it's great since she can't talk back now.]

[wasteddreams]

[He'll just keep drunkenly rambling on as he staggers along with her support.]

Right, forgot you can't talk...

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Gold star for you.

Thankful Flame building isn't too far away, but it's still a slow walk. Drunk people are never easy to move along. But he is a friend and even if no one in Luceti will hurt him, she'd rather not have something happen to him.

So she's sentimental. Someone had to be.]

[wasteddreams]

I owe you for this, I'm serious...whatever you want.

[He still has enough dignity to feel guilty about undeserved acts of kindness like this - but for all his apologizing, he rarely does little more than make promises. Often because he forgets he ever promised anything in the first place. He's wracked up years worth of debts with Marco that way.]

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Ginia glances over at him and gives a small shake of her head. She's not dismissing the gesture, but rather there's no need to return the favor. It's what friends do and even if Jean isn't his usual self, she still cares enough to watch out for him.

She likes to believe he'd do the same if their situation were reversed too.]

[wasteddreams]

[This version of Jean is rarely sober enough to help anyone else home from the bar, but the one she knows would certainly come to her aid if she hit the liquor too hard.]

You sure? Anything at all, my word is gold...! [That's such bullshit. Dingy copper, maybe.]

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Ginia gives a small huff. She'll take his word, but she doubts he'll remember it by the morning. Not his fault though.

Crossing the bridge now. Be happy she's a nice person or she might try sobering him up in the river.]

[wasteddreams]

[She's the one who would have to come in after him and fish him out. This ordeal is probably cumbersome enough as it is - he jostles against her, head bobbing and making his vision spin hazily. His stomach twists, and he forgets to keep stumbling along, in favor of clutching at his middle. The liquor makes multitasking hard.]

Fuck...

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Ginia gently guides him to the bridge railing, supporting him and giving him a moment to steady himself. And hey, if he needs to vomit, there's a river nearby.

Or her boots, either or.]

[wasteddreams]

[His movements are heavy; he's only half aware of how he makes it from point A to point B. But he can still feel her arms anchoring him and the railing suddenly clasped tightly in his shaking hands as he slumps against it and stares blearily down at the water.

Nothing but a few shuddering dry heaves for now. Dammit, he should have stopped... He never learns, does he?]

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Ginia gently rubs his back, careful not to jostle his wings. He's a pretty pathetic mess, but she treats him as if he were a part of her family. To some degree, he is if only because the Survey Corps has a way of bringing people together. Probably the overhanging sense of death and desperation and that there's not a lot of time to live.]

[wasteddreams]

[When he thinks it has passed, he starts to lift his head...only to feel his stomach heave again. This time, everything he drank and what little he ate starts to come back up, some dribbling on the railing, but most of it falling to the river, thank god.]

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[...Ew. Ginia wrinkles her nose at the stench, but continues to rub his back. On the plus side, at least it's mostly liquid.]

[wasteddreams]

[When he's finished, his body goes limp against the railing, slowly sliding down to crouch on the planks of the bridge, with his hands still reaching up above him to hold on.]

Shit...'m sorry...

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Ginia crouches next to him and reaches out to pat his shoulder, offering a sympathetic smile. Hey, it's okay. They've all been there.]

[wasteddreams]

Sorry Marco...

[When he lifts his head to look at her, his expression is washed in confusion, like he's having trouble processing what he's seeing.]

Right, Gin...Gin'ya...sorry. [Something like that. With a cracked laugh, he shakes his head.]

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[How often is Marco the one to help Jean home? Probably fairly often if the two are dating, if he can mistake her for him. And that Jean could have gone this far even with Marco around...

Well, what did Marco give up to get where he was?

Ginia sighs slightly and slips an arm around him, ready to help him back up.]

[wasteddreams]

[He only becomes Marco's problem once he's brought back from the bar, usually, but he needs help stumbling up stairs and through hallways too.

Jean struggles back to his feet with her help, still holding onto the railing. When they're upright (as much as they can be, with him piss-drunk and her having to support his weight), he loosens his grip.]

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Time to keep on walking. It's muddy along the path from the earlier showers of the day, but at least it's not raining now. It's almost a pleasant chill in the air, the kind that keeps a person awake and refreshed.

...Please don't fall over, Jean. Ginia doesn't want to haul you out of a mud puddle.]