Not Drunk Yet [M]

[Lowen Thorn]

Amaya was steadily losing interest in the card game and more interested in the face she just tried to make. Still, he absently moved a few more quartz into the center, his cards still face down.

"Well, actually, I think you might be onto something," he teasted. "Here-" he lifted up his bottle and took a long, forceful slug, this time the alcohol hitting him square in the face.

That was it. He was drunk.

"Try that again."

[Remi]

Remi tilted her head, as though trying to figure out what was more interesting: her booze (that was being rapidly depleted,) trying to decide if she wanted to share her personal drug stash, the card game, or what Amaya was trying to do. When he shoved quartz into the center of the table, she followed suit, adding six quartz, most of her obsidian and four agate to the ante pile, without even looking at her cards.

If they were going to bet on... gods, did it even fucking matter what they were wagering on? Not as far as Remi was concerned right now. They could just continue betting on nothing and it would be fun, at least until all they had was a huge ante pile for no good reason.

"Do you, now?" She jested right back incredulously, slamming more booze down her throat -- Remi had finally achieved drunkenness. "Alright, how's this; haughty enough?" She made that same face again: constipated and pissed, though this time around, just slightly demented as well. As though she were openly mocking the entire concept of a "noble pout."

[Lowen Thorn]

Amaya's eyes shot open in astonishment, and he chuckled, and he choked on his drink. That pattern seemed to be stuck with him for a moment. She's alright, he thought to himself as he went for another sip, despite his mouth still swallowing down the last pour.

He leaned back in his chair and knocked the bottle back, unaware, or uncaring that it was empty. Unfortunately for him, balance didn't work in his favor after a certain amount of drinks, and gravity took over.

"Shit!"

His chair was leaned back a little too much, toppling over and causing him to crash to the ground on his back along with it. "Fuck it," he chuckled. "I'm all in."

[Remi]

For good measure, Remi crossed her eyes, only adding to the sheer absurdity of that expression, though she couldn't keep them crossed for very long; looking at her nose, coupled with her current state of drunkenness, made her somewhat dizzy for the moment. You're really not an ass, Earlier, she wouldn't have imagined she'd think such a thing. "So, could I pass as a baronness?" She inquired playfully, knocking back the rest of her swill and dropping the bottle to the floor carelessly.

Fuck it, She thought, reaching into one of her pouches and withdrawing a good majority of her narcotics stash: flowers, leaves, mushrooms, a handful of dried berries, a small pouch of greyish powder. Stimulants, relaxants, painkillers, hallucinogens, shit that would simply and quite profoundly fuck with one's head. "Here's some more fun shit!" She announced as she tossed them onto the table.

When Amaya tipped backward too far and collapsed to the ground, though she did wince a bit in sympathy, she couldn't keep from laughing, managing to choke out a somewhat breathless: "Need help?"

Before announcing "Why the fuck not? I'll do it too," Shoving the remainder of her stones across the table, some plinking to the floor carelessly. She'd wait to see if Amaya might have needed help up or not before she would look at her cards, more out of curiosity than anything else.

[Lowen Thorn]

"I got it," he grunted a response as he sat upright. He really couldn't remember what cards he had at all, but he was drunk and had lost all patience for the game. After several moments of a struggle with gravity and himself, he was back on his feet and dusting himself.

Then his eyes landed on the stash of narcotics the woman had laid out onto the table, and he smiled eagerly. "What do we have here," he said, taking a step forward to scoop a handful of the berries.

Shit. Gravity again.

He tripped over his feet and stumbled forward for a moment before lunging straight for the woman across from him.

[Remi]

"Okay," Remi stated levelly- or she would have, if she could control that damnable, drunken giggling as she picked up her cards to glance at them, not really giving a damn any more about whether her hand was any good or not. Three of a kind, of... something. With a careless shrug, she tossed her cards in the general direction of the table, though inadvertantly simply tossing a few of them to the floor. The game they'd been playing was a distant, foggy memory at best and well, she'd be damned if it even mattered at this point.

"The best shit money can buy," That came across as a teasing purr, "Help yourself!" When had she become so gods-damned generous with her stash? She didn't know and at that point, just didn't give a fuck as she reached for a few of the large, purplish flower-buds that she knew tasted like honey: stimulants, yet with vaguely hallucinogenic properties.

Oh, fuck. That was her very delayed thought as Amaya stumbled and seemed to launch himself directly at her; at that point, she just wasn't thinking quickly at all, laughing as most of their cards and some of the stones went careening across the room, "What are you--" doing would probably been the word that finished that half-question, because to her, it seemed like Amaya was trying to do his best attempt to fly.

In a matter of seconds, she found herself crashing to the ground, chair sliding out from under her and sliding under the table; laughing uproariously at the sudden and brief sense of weightlessness, one arm instinctively snaking around Amaya's waist as she flailed the other backward, in what was probably an attempt to soften the fall-- and failing to do so, gracelessly landing flat on her back with a dull thud, pinned to the floor, laughing. At least she'd managed to cushion the fall? "You're kind of shitty at flying," she managed to snort a bit breathlessly from the impact.

[Lowen Thorn]

How embarrassing.

The bounty hunter could normally handle his alcohol quite well, and still good for most human standards, but something about the shit they had been drinking was so strong, so potent. One minute he was feeling good, loose smiles and tipsy thoughts, and then it just hit him in the fucking face and everything was la la land.

He blinked, and that blink must have lasted at least ten seconds as his head spun, and when he opened his eyes he saw her. Right under him. Gods. "Iamlildrunk," she slurred, smiling carelessly. "Don't use it as excuse, an excuse, don't use it to take advantage of me."

He slumped off of her to lay on his back, eyes up at the ceiling without a care in the world. Somehow, during all that commotion, he managed to swipe his cards off of the table, and he held them up for the both of them to see.

"Read'em and weep," he managed to say.

And he had nothing. No winnable hand. He was fucked.

[Remi]

The witch was usually known to drink some people under the table-  and well, she'd managed to keep pace with the bounty hunter with some degree of ease. The potency of the liquor, coupled with her desire to taste everything that she'd found, was probably what had did her in. Not that she was bitching by any stretch of the imagination; despite the dull throb in the back of her head, she was feeling good.

"No shit," So what if her words were fairly slurred; if she was wearing a goofy little grin? "Yeah, guess I'mkinda that way too... dun' worry, I wasn', just saved ya from bustin' your head open is all." Her grip was very easy to escape and once he'd rolled away from her, she unsteadily forced herself to her knees for a moment, groping around on top of the table until she found her narcotics- and cards. Well, at least most of them. "You don't do that... advantage-taking either, Birdie-- and don't try to fly again!" It was shot back with an entirely lazy little smile, only the comment about flying again coming across as any sort of reprimand, as she dropped the drugs on the floor and stared at them far too intently. It wasn't her entire stash, probably about half of it, but dammit, there was no harm in getting completely fucked up, now was there? "Got the prize- help yourself!"

She plopped one of the now-crumpled mildly hallucinogenic flowers into her mouth, followed by one of the berries, leaning in so she could peer with bleary eyes at Amaya's cards, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shaking her head, she'd try to aim a playful punch at his shoulder before revealing her own hand. "You fuckin' lost!" She crowed, taunting him playfully as she wobbled a bit on her knees, "No prize for you, I think!" Did you get a prize if you lost? Her mind was a little too fuzzy to remember if they'd decided there would be a consolation prize, or what it was supposed to be, if there was one. "I get the big prize, the bes' one!"

[Lowen Thorn]

The news of his loss didn't seem to phase him one bit. That, or he completely didn't hear and comprehend her. Instead, he groaned heavily as he moved to sit upright, only to plop back down, face-first into her lap. "Bed," he muttered under his breath, eyes barely peaking open to see the strange texture in his hand.

Oh!

The berries!

With a sneaky grin, he stuffed them into his mouth, maybe a chew or two, but for the most part swallowing them whole.

[Remi]

She was a bit surprised that he didn't seem to give a damn about losing; surely that meant they'd decided there was some sort of decent consolation prize? No matter, everything could be sorted out in the morning, she supposed; jumping and laughing when he unexpectedly sort of collapsed into her lap. "Yeah, yeah, get your sleep," She slurred, "Guess I'll take tha firs' watch, if ya think we needit," Remi didn't exactly mind the prospect of taking first watch; she'd more than likely keep herself awake by getting progressively more fucked up.

Did she actually need to keep watch, anyway? All she could come up with was a somewhat firm maybe! Wasn't someone trying to kill them, or something like that? Yeah, they'd tried to do... something... a couple of times, but fuckit. It wasn't important.

Reaching for her stash, she retrieved a leaf or two and a mushroom: relaxants, maybe an anti-nausea leaf- those mushrooms would be playing hell with her mind in the most pleasant of ways, pretty soon. If she rememered right, the purple berries did something similar, but she'd be damned if she could recall what the orange or white ones did. One hand would reach down to idly play with Amaya's hair while her eyelids slid halfway closed; an extremely stupid, goofy smile spreading across her face.

Gods damn, but she was feeling fucking outstanding right now; the writhing, swirling, ethereal patterns that had begun to dance at the edges of her vision from the mild hallucinogen only helped to intensify her perception that everything was going amazingly well.

[Lowen Thorn]

Amaya's eyes closed shut as his head rested on what felt like the softest lap in the world. Of course, by the look of her, that shouldn't be the case, but oh my gods did it feel that way during that time. Maybe he would stay there forever.

Come to think of it, everything felt soft. Everything felt so good. One eye slipped open as he looked at his hand, his vision blurry and his fingertips tingling, and his entire body having the coming and going sensation of waves.

He started to laugh. It was a soft, muffled laugh, but it was uncontrollable, and it complimented the stupid smile he couldn't seem to wipe off of his face. He peered up at the woman and said through giggled breaths, "You take first watch and I'll take first watch."

[Remi]

Remi's vision continued to swim in and out of focus as those dancing, swirling shapes faded in and out of reality; that stupid grin only growing all the wider with each passing moment- everything was too fucking funny and just plain nice~! She would have sworn that one of those illusory not-quite-beings had wrapped its wings around the entire shop, turing it into its own realm of wondrous enchantment: everything she touched just felt too fucking good for its own good, the myriad of scents that filled the dingy little workroom had somehow changed from dirt, booze and gods only knew what else, into the most intoxifying incense she'd ever inhaled.

And she was far too comfortable for her own good; when was the last time she'd bothered to do anything like this, just relax at complete ease, not wanting to move a muscle for the rest of eternity? Damned if she could remember, but with the way it seemed like time had completely ceased to exist, maybe the rest of eternity had already begun and for some reason, some divine force had decided to reward her with a bit of paradise.

Her hand continued to glide idly through Amaya's hair- and before too long, she'd even begun mindlessly petting him, much like she was holding some sort of kitten, or maybe a baby bird; her free hand reaching to randomly grab an assortment of leaves, flowers, mushrooms and intoxifying fruits, holding them like an offering after plopping a spotted red-and-yellow blossom onto her tongue, "Want some more?" That question was a down-right demi-human approximation of a purr.

Dammit, but was his giggling fit contagious; her own chortle joining his, she peered down in an attempt to focus on him instead of the hallucinations, eyes half-lidded and dull... and just sort of stared unblinkingly for a few seconds. So, they were both going to take first watch? She wasn't going to complain, that sounded like a damn great idea. "I like that. We'll just take all the watches, right here!" It made perfect sense to her distorted mind, if nothing else. "Yerra good kitten, you know that?"

[Lowen Thorn]

"Meow," he said with a sly smile as he stared up at her, or maybe past her, at the swirling clouds that had somehow made their way from outside and into the little shop. It was quite the sight to see, and for some reason, it made him think about things completely unrelated. "I wonder what Red is doing right now," he said almost inaudibly. "I wonder if Red is having this good of a time, or if he's becoming a bounty hunter as we speak. That would mean," he stopped with a gasp. "The bounty hunter becomes the bountyyyy."

He couldn't appropriately finish his sentence without hurling himself into another uncontrollable fit of laughter, now holding at his ribs where his stomach grew sore. It lasted for several seconds before he abruptly stopped again, his glossed over eyes looking intently on Remi.

It was a delay, but he finally comprehended her offer for more of the fruits and other herbs. Opening his mouth, he said, "Have at thee."

[Remi]

She couldn't keep from giggling at Amaya's meow; "I've always liked cats." Her ministrations continuing even as she tilted her head to glance at an ethereal, winged serpent that shimmered in ever-shifting rainbow hues; unintentionally gasping at its unearthly beauty, even as it shifted form and burst into iridescent rain that didn't seem to touch anything. It was exceptionally beautiful and strangely soothing, "I wonder..." She murmurred softly, gesturing at nothing in particular; just the intangible things that seemed to be everywhere, "Could they be gods?" Of course, she'd never seen anything remotely divine, but she was just fucked up enough to wonder if somehow, a portal between the realm of mortals and that of the divine had opened just far enough to catch a voyeuristic glance of deities or demigods.

It took her a few moments to realize that Amaya had said anything at all; though when she realized exactly what he was whispering, she cocked her head, making a low, thoughtful sound in the back of her throat. Though the entire notion caused those gales of mirthful laughter to rise forth again, fading away only when a momentary fit of the hiccups hit; groaning and shaking her head. "I don't think he could possibly have as much fun as we are! Oh... If little old Red's not fuckin' an orc somewhere, I think..." What if he had become a bounty hunter, or worse, an assassin? "What if he's huntin' us right now?" She questioned with a crooked, easy grin, "Out there somewhere... wearin' a bridal gown an' shoes with those big-ass heels, wantin' to take us down an' out in the worst possible way!"

Somehow, the thought of possibly being hunted, assassinated, or only hell knew what else, by an all dolled up Red was something she thought was downright hilarous; that laughter returning in full force yet again, howls of mirth that caused tears of amusement to cloud her already glazed vision, her breath catching painfully in her throat, which only forced the laughter to mellow into sporadic giggling fits.

Remi arched an eyebrow in momentary confusion as Amaya gazed up at her, until she remembered that she'd offered him more drugs; her movement seeming (to her at least) somewhat sluggish, only reinforcing her theory that time had actually slowed down immensely, she would feed him a couple more pieces of fruit, as well as a couple of the herbs she knew from touch tasted decent, probably. If memory served her correctly, that was. Damned if she could remember exactly what they'd do, though.

[Lowen Thorn]

Amaya ate more of the drugs, and life had become absolutely delicious. "There's are some nice dance moves you got there," the bounty hunter said in an almost child-like manner as he imagined Remi to be performing some sort of exotic dance. "You should teach me and then we-"

His eyes grew wide, a giggle came, and then he shot up to sit upright. He quickly snapped his neck to face hers, placed his hands on each one of her cheeks and rested his forehead on top of hers. "I have an idea," he said almost callously. "By now, Red's gotta be wanted dead or alive. Let's just kill the bastard! Yes, that will do!"

He released her from his grasp and clumsily got to his feet.

Whoa.

The room was spinning, and he loved every second of it.

"Afterward you can still have your thing with'em if you want," he wheezed, now believing that to be a reality of her desires. "But I think you can do better."

[Remi]

With a shrug and grin, once Amaya had eaten his share of the drugs, Remi polished off the rest of what she held rather greedily; oh, she could definitely fish the most hard-hitting of her stash (which would have depleted it for the time being) but she'd play a little coy instead of outright offering them. "I got... more," she announced with a playful little smirk, in reference to the drugs, "But they're very special, so..." She trailed off when Amaya complimented her on on a dance that she wasn't even aware that she'd been doing, chortling and murmurring, "You're a sweet pet, of course I'll teach you."

And suddenly, he was sitting up; damn, but he could move fast! She laughed as he reached forward, her eyes widening in surprise, then half-closing again; devilish, perhaps with a hint of a "come hither" little smirk-- though when he mentioned killing Red, that quickly became something quite devious. "Ooh, If she could have purred, she would have done just that; "I adore how you think! We'll kill sorry sack of shit, make him suffer; they'll call us heroes! Big fuckin' pile of gold, songs written about us!" Her wandering fingers trailed along the side of his neck as she breathed those thoughts, giggling.

Lurching to her feet, she blinked and couldn't keep from twirling in a quick, flamboyant little circle, arms outspread as she did so; the room had gone all topsy-turvy and it was hard as hell to tell what was up and down, those hazy, smoky images were pouring into her one after another and everything she touched felt like the softest, most luxurious velvet; she could live this way forever!

"Oh no," She giggled, staggering over to where Amaya was standing, slouching against one of the shelves, "I'm not gonna have a thing with Red," She didn't sound the least bit offended, rather, horribly amused; that laughter causing her to cough a bit, "I wouldn't if he was the last son of a bitch alive. But is that so; got any suggestions?" It was a thoroughly amused question; she was curious about his answer- and how to phrase the fucking brilliant plan she'd just come up with: Hey, ya know, why don't we become vigillante killers? Ya know, we go around killing criminals and collecting money for their fuckin' heads.

But before that, there was the question of dancing lessons that she'd just promised. Stretching languidly, groaning in an unashamed manner that was probably just this side of being lewd as her back popped in a most pleasing manner, "You said you wanted me to teach you to dance? You wanna do that before or after we kill Red?" She didn't care either way; shit, everything sounded like an incredibly fun idea. Had they both always been such gods-damned geniuses?

[Lowen Thorn]

"Dance with me," he almost commanded as he moved his body into hers and grabbed her hands. "I'll show why there are so many songs written about me."

Amaya, in his current state, was nothing but certain that there were indeed songs and melodies in his name, but a wiser, more sober Amaya would call that a crock of absolute horse shit.

He dipped his head in closer to whisper in her ear. "Dance with me and then we will kill him," he said, unusually calm for a man who's mind was in absolute chaos. "We'll be vigilantes."

[Remi]

She grinned quite broadly at his near-command, which she didn't disobey, "You'd better," That low, raspy phrase was almost a challenge as she settled in comfortably against him, finding the correct position with an ease that probably came from at least a modicum of experience, willing to let him take the lead.

At that moment,  Remi was willing to accept that Amaya probably had a shitload of songs and ballads written about him, played far and wide by countless minstrels. Just as there were scholars and scribes that had filled volumes with tales of her exploits. However, a sober (and far more disbelieving) Remphaine would have challenged and him to find any bard worth their salt to sing just one of those songs; probably would have announced that if he had music written in his honor, she was damn sure a displaced queen. But she was neither sober nor disbelieving tonight.

She nodded, "I like the sound of that," Her voice was a throaty murmurr as she tilted her head upward slightly; "I couldn't fuckin' agree more with that plan," For a woman whose mind was reeling,  she sounded nothing less than at ease and perfectly confident that everything was going to work out perfectly as soon as they got started.

[Lowen Thorn]

"You talk too much," he said as he placed his hand on her back and pulled her closer, his feet clumsily moving to the left and right and every which direction. "Just relax and listen to the music."

There was no music.

"And dip," he demanded as he leaned her back, his hand sliding and down and gripping her outer thigh. Not well enough though, cause shortly after what he thought was his greatest showcase of dance he had ever pulled off, his fingers slipped and he dropped her onto the floor.

Laughing, his eyes darted around the room. "The hells you go?" he muttered to himself until his eyes found her just below him. "What you doing down there?"

[Remi]

"So do you," She murmurred as he tugged her closer, her freed arm wrapping around his waist as she attempted to follow his lead: even as clouded as her mind was right now, it was difficult to keep from laughing at the clumsy, stumbling flailing that she couldn't quite find a rhythm for. Listen to the music. Words that she'd heard more than once- and was more than willing to oblige; though it was difficult to relax like she kept trying to do, when she couldn't exactly figure out where to put her feet next.

Though there was no real music to listen to, it wouldn't have been hard to allow the sounds of their combined footfalls and his breathing guide her through the steps; biting her lower lip to keep from giggling as the room continued to twirl around them- and then came the command to dip. Bending one leg back so that knee brushed against the ground, she extended the other so that her foot was stretched between his ankles, weight distributed so part of her weight was situated on that heel, toes pointed straight up, she lazily unhooked her arm from around his waist, lifting it upward as she would have done for a true dip; bending as far backward as she could over his arm as he gripped her thigh... and yet the dip didn't end.

Instead, she found her back and the back of her head making a close, personal acquaintence with the floor once again, giggling breathlessly up at him as she shrugged and slowly moved forward and got back to her feet again; "One of us slipped." For reasons she didn't understand, it was nothing short of comical. Grinning broadly and winking coyly, she'd close the gap between them once again; her chin thrusting upward briefly in a show of utter cockiness, hips swaying a bit more than necessary, stalking quietly on her toes, "Let me show you how I was taught to do it," It was a softly-spoken order, but an order nevertheless.

That grin not faltering, she would grasp his hands, moving one to her shoulder and the other to her hip, planting one of her own against the back of his neck and the other against his lower back, "Relax and let yourself go; there's always music, find and follow it. Don't worry about stepping on my feet, I don't fucking care. Just follow my lead and what you hear,"  She had risen to the tips of her toes to whisper that somewhere near the proximity of his ear, "If you do well, I'll teach you something you'll really fuckin' like!"

Pressing even closer, head lowering to rest against his shoulder, she would take the lead and try to guide him through the steps of a slow-paced waltz that she thought should have been easy to understand, even as fucked up as they both were; in her mind, the room had transformed into a breathtaking ballroom with an extremely impressive band playing non-stop, starbursts errupting brilliantly overhead. If he managed to keep up even reasonably well without elbowing her or somehow knocking her feet out from beneath her too many times, Remi would do her best to show him how twirls and dips were executed; adding her own little shimmies and flourishes.

She would remain pressed close as the crash-course on waltzing was completed, waiting to see if he was interested at all in that other "lesson", catching her breath as she rested against him.