Post by conoroverstreet on May 31, 2011 19:49:28 GMT -5
1:18 AM , the park
"Holy ..." My voice split the night with a surprisingly clean cut; it was quiet in the park at this hour. "I ..." Things were hazy at the moment, my thoughts certainly weren't falling into their typical straight, logical lines. My sentence was cut off as I broke into a fit of giggles, rolling onto my back from the position I'd collapsed into, feet away from a park bench I'd been trying to reach. "I am really plastered." Suddenly, the laughter was gone and I seemed a little sad about this realization, whiskey-stained lips puckering into a pout. And then, just as quickly as the wave of sadness had encompassed me, I was laughing again, struggling to drag myself up to the level of the bench with my index, then ring fingers. At the time, it made sense to me. Just as I began to see the foil of my plan, I managed to peer over the wooden boards I clung to and noticed a figure standing just a few feet off, watching me in amusement. I chuckled again. That poor bastard was born with two heads. "Hey, baby! Wh ... why don't ya comekeep me company?" I slurred, regardless of my uncertainty as to my audience's gender or history of birth defects.
Henry figured that he'd broken some kind of record for skulking around Glencarry's lab the longest, drunk as a skunk, without being kicked out by a janitor. One AM, he figured his record before had been around midnight. Rather than drive home, he decided he'd try to sober up a bit with a walk through the park. Apparently, he wasn't the only one with that idea. He hadn't been walking for very long when he came upon the singular sight of someone much more wasted than himself. This probably had something to do with the fact that he had three dollars in his pocket and not much more anywhere else. He was standing there, much amused, when he was suddenly accosted. "...The Hell! Get off, get offf," he hissed, writhing like his skin was on fire, "stop touching me, you freakin' fairy!" He tried not to think about all the disgusting... things... that might be on this guy and concentrated on trying to get away. But, as a generally scrawny, weak sort of guy, he wasn't that successful.
Post by conoroverstreet on Jun 1, 2011 19:25:55 GMT -5
1:18 AM , the park
Perhaps the obviously male voice should have done it for me. Perhaps the strength of the arms or the short hair that should have clued me in. Either way, I didn't seem to be catching on to any of these hints, and instead continued to accost my poor audience. "Aw, come on, angel!" I slur some more, attempting to wrap myself around one of the man's squirming legs, though in my mind, I was still convinced he was, in fact, a woman. "Is this because you're self-conscious about your birth defect? Having two heads isn't all that bad, really. Some ... some sleazebags would find that to be an attribute." I cough before I have the chance to laugh because I've just been kicked squarely in the chest. "What the hell was that for?" I am completely unaware of volume constraints right now, and therefore, screaming at the top of my lungs.
Henry didn't realize that he was being mistaken for a girl - in fact, he thought that he was being mistaken for a gay guy. He wondered if he'd stumbled into some sort of weird prefabricated situation. "Get the hell off of mee," he was whining more than screaming, his hands clasped over his head trying to protect every inch of bare skin. It didn't really matter because he already felt as if there were insects crawling all over him, under his skin. By some miracle he managed to knee the guy in the stomach and was able to twist out of his grasp, falling flat on his butt in the dirt. He clawed at his face with his sleeve, making a noise uncannily like a snake or a cat that doesn't want to be touched. "What the fuck? ....Wait... Two heads? I don't..." he sat forward a little, unwrapping his hands from his head, "What exactly have you been popping and where can I get some?" That was some serious hallucinogen, he wondered if he could slip some to the Dean some time.
Post by conoroverstreet on Jun 1, 2011 19:53:55 GMT -5
As my prey escapes me, the thrill of the chase is suddenly lost for me and I collapse back to the ground, rolling around in the dirt because after the blow to the chest, my stomach has been clenching up. "I'm serious, you ... you hurt me." This is said with the utmost concern and betrayal, my Et tu, Brute? for the night. What exactly have you been popping and where can I get some? The voice comes to me from very far away, and I reach above my head, swatting at imagined flies. My ears are buzzing from my screaming and it's very hard to hear. "All I remember is ... a lot of whiskey. A lot." I groan, beginning to regret my decisions from the previous hours. "Where'd you learn to kick like that, babe?" I'll be very disappointed when I finally come to and realize it is a college male that I am talking to. The only silver lining to this evening would be getting some action, and I'd hate to see what that might mean to this kid.
Last Edit: Jun 1, 2011 19:54:15 GMT -5 by conoroverstreet
"I actually hurt you? SWEET!" Henry grinned a little, although he was still fidgeting around the general area of his bare arms and face and neck. This guy looked like he had quite a bit more on him than Henry did, at any rate. Actually, if Henry had actually known that he was being mistaken for a woman, he wouldn't have been that surprised. Apparently he walked like one... and he had this stupid reedy voice, too, and scrawny arms and chest. "Nah, no way, man, you'd be dead before you could have a sustained hallucination like that off of alcohol... Damn, I guess someone slipped you something... Can I have a blood sample?" He reflected that he probably couldn't actually do anything with one, seeing as how he was horrid at chemical analysis. "Kick? I kicked you and it actually hurt? Fascinating!" He could almost put up with all that... touching... for this anomaly of human behavior. No one in his recollection had ever rolled on the ground in pain after he kicked them.
Post by conoroverstreet on Jun 1, 2011 20:36:52 GMT -5
I actually hurt you? SWEET! Eager to strike up some kind of camradarie with my ... er, company, I started laughing in congratulations until the rest of my brain caught up with this logic, and I was back to glaring at my blurry companion. "Yeah, yeah, cough it up." I meant to say laugh, but in the addled workings of my mind, cough seemed to be a better word choice. "It's just 'cause I can't see you. You can't actually kick. I mean, I'm all for the equality of women, but let's be real here honey." I lied. On the contrary, I was torn between being frightened of this she-man and asking her if she'd like to fist fight, just to prove myself. The whole speech about the blood sample was over my head, I'd sunk into some kind of delirium, just staring up at the stars and smirking to myself. The voice was still there, but as I'd said before, floating farther and farther away. It was silent for a few seconds after the voice stopped; my companion was probably leaning over me to make sure I was still alive when I was suddenly sitting up and had wrapped my arms around the person in a tight bear hug. "Listen, I'm a very lonely person ... Won't ... won't you please take me home with you?" God, where were all these lines coming from tonight?! I was smooth.
Henry chuckled a little halfheartedly along with him, not really knowing what the big joke was. He would probably need a lot more than three dollars to get wasted enough to understand what this guy was talking about. He blinked at Conor for a couple seconds "Equality of women? What does that have to do with any- AUGH!!" He scrabbled backwards in the dirt when Conor latched onto him again, kicking out desperately. "No! Get offa me! Stop touching me! I can't breathe, Mo-" he stopped short, still squirming around uncomfortably, and gritted his teeth. "Hahah, uh... honey... you don't want to go back to my place, trust me," he crooned, a bit awkwardly, trying not to look too terribly suspicious as he looked around for a means of escape. He settled on assault. He primed his thumbs, wiggling so that his elbows were free, and jabbed them in the general direction of Conor's eyeballs. Actually, he didn't know if he had the right trajectory, seeing as his eyes were closed and his head was turned away.
Post by conoroverstreet on Jun 1, 2011 21:27:51 GMT -5
Several things happened at once after I latched onto my unassuming predator. One, I realized as I was trying to cop a feel that my point of interest was breastless, and therefore probably a man (I'd been owing the low, rather husky voice to a history of smoking up until now), and two, without warning or from my point of view, reason, I was jabbed by two meaty thumbs right below and to the left of my eyes, one hitting the bridge of my nose, the other, the dark purple crescent under my eye. "What the fuck, man!?" I was back to screaming again, launching myself after the stranger as he tried to escape, reaching for his arm with one outstretched hand and wildly swinging out with my balled fist in the other. "You could have just told me you were a man without jabbing your fucking thumbs into my eyes! Is that some weird fetish of yours?" Suddenly, I was very sober, confused, and most of all, enraged and embarrassed.
Henry had opened his eyes again and was attempting to stand up when the stranger seized his arm. He squealed like a stuck pig, or like his flesh was burning off of his body. Which was, admittedly, kind of how he felt. He wasn't paying much attention to the balled fist until it hit him in the jaw and he recoiled instinctively. "...let go of me..." he said, but the words didn't come out, they got trapped in his throat and his arm was on fire and now his face was too. "LET. THE. FUCK. GO. OF. ME." that time it came out, and he was roaring instead of hissing, his free hand swinging around in a mis-aimed swing that kind of ruined the effect and knocked him off balance. "Well, if it is it's certainly better than your fetish for groping random guys in the middle of parts at bloody midnight!" He growled, deciding that offense was the only way forward. So he temporarily forgot about sanitation and launched himself at the arm that was holding him, attempting to bite it. Who said he had to fight fair?
Last Edit: Jun 1, 2011 21:59:27 GMT -5 by conoroverstreet
Post by conoroverstreet on Jun 1, 2011 22:43:40 GMT -5
To be totally honest, I'd never been in a fight before. Not one that I remembered, anyhow, though I'm sure I'd duked it out a couple times in random bars or with a friend that mistakenly came over while I was shooting up. But I couldn't have carried that experience over to now, could I? I wasn't sure whether to be disappointed in myself for the sick surge of pride that came with hitting the bastard square in the jaw. Still. Too late to be a pacifist now. His first swing missed, and I started to laugh, knocking him around a little more just to throw him off balance. "You didn't try to stop me, did you?" I shouted back. "No, you decide to fucking jab me in the eyes! I mean, God, as if I couldn't see you clearly enough in the first place!" I was still carrying on with this tangent, becoming lost in the verbal layer of the argument when all of a sudden, he reached out and bit me. My first reaction was to jerk my arm away and sweep the back of my hand toward his face: what the rowdy teenagers who typically engage in these sort of fights would call a bitch slap. Course, I couldn't really see straight, and I was starting to feel nauseous and dizzy again. "Can we just cut the ..." And before I could utter the word 'crap', I was keeled over, projectile vomiting in the direction of my opponent's shoes.
The slap hit him squarely again, but he hardly felt it compared to the sudden fire in his mouth. Henry turned and began gobbing copious amounts of saliva onto the grass, wearing an expression of pure, unadulterated horror. His mouth tasted awful, he could feel it burning all the way into the back of his throat. His guts were crawling. "What?!" he spat again, "I totally" spit "tried to tell you." He retched, but it was dry, his stomach was holding onto the contents of his sparse daily meals. "You taste like... ugh I don't even..." he couldn't look at him. "Anyway, apparently you couldn't see me clearly enough, I'd thank your lucky..." spit "stars that you can see me now." Just about then, something warm splashed up at the cuffs of his khaki pants and he swung his head around in horror, squealing again in abject horror. He kicked his shoes off and was up faster than a bird's head turns, hopping around on the grass. He could feel the warmth of the vomit above his socks, where his pants touched his legs, and it burned like acid.
Post by conoroverstreet on Jun 1, 2011 23:15:02 GMT -5
"Yeah, well, maybe I would thank 'my lucky stars' if you hadn't just tried to blind me with your thumbs." I'd be surprised if he could hear this, because the waves of dizziness were already starting to drown me when these words were spoken; I'd hardly had time to get them out before I started trying to surrender, then began to empty my stomach out onto his shoes. Which, I found out, should have been my first course of action, as it sent him off faster than anything else I'd done, squealing and gallumphing barefooted across the park like a little girl playing with a sprinkler. "Would you calm down, man, I didn't mean to spew chunks on you." I snapped, still somewhat buzzed but hardly suffering from the hallucinations I had been earlier. I even had the audacity to chuckle a little at Henry running around in vomit-stained trousers, a wild expression of horror on his face, which was starting to come into focus. The adrenaline was helping to clear my thoughts, it seemed. "Look, I'd tell you to do with the pants what you did with the shoes, but I'm pretty sure that wouldn't help the whole homosexual argument." I smirked.
"Well, at least you're not groping at my chest any more," Henry managed, through hopping around on the grass. He'd kicked off his socks, too, because there was something distinctly damp about the tops. "No I will not calm down! Do you know how utterly filthy this is? There are like... billions and billions of bacterial colonies in this shit! Staph and... E. Coli... and probably whatever crap you've been eating lately!" After that he was pretty much hyperventilating, so he found it hard to talk any further. By the time he took Conor's advice and dumped the pants, he was shaking like he'd had one too many energy drinks and couldn't care less that he was now standing in the middle of the park at one AM in his underwear. He couldn't bear the touch of the grass on his feet, either, but he gave up and sank to the ground, slumped in absolute defeat, his heart still pounding and his breath shallow. "Fuck you, man, fuck you."
Post by amysinclaire on Jun 2, 2011 0:29:28 GMT -5
It was just my kind of flawed luck, specifically on this night, that I lived in the apartments across from the park. The contractors had installed thin plate glass, little to no insulation in the walls. Sound permeated easily. And I suppose, I worried with an awful sickness in the pit of my stomach, sounds escaped just as easily. Did the neighbors know? If they did, why hadn't anyone reported it? I couldn't worry about it now. I was having a terrible time trying to fall asleep anyhow, might as well investigate what all the ruckus outside my window was about. I didn't want to look like a fucking wreck when I finally got there. The voices weren't too hard to follow; there was a lot of screaming and laughter, from what I could tell, coming from two men. Though I should have been afraid for myself and turned back, I walked on through the trees and into the clearing where a couple benches sat and a sidewalk wound through. "Could you please keep it down, I was trying to ..." I had started to speak my request as I emerged from the trees, but was quickly silenced as I looked, dumbfounded upon the scene in front of me. One man stood in front of a puddle of vomit; he was drawing a cigarette from his pocket and looking quite amused, while his companion stood barefoot in his underwear just feet away, very distraught, expostulating a loud Fuck you. "Oh. ... If you don't mind, there are children that live in the area. This is a public park, you know." I stammered, blushing pink.
Last Edit: Jun 2, 2011 23:05:25 GMT -5 by conoroverstreet