05-25-2010, 06:22 AM
WC: 811.
All Welcome.
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The night had began to creep onto the landscape – a full moon rising to the sky, and the clouds disappearing to reveal stars as bright as could be. The world lay silent, bar the distant screeches of owls and crows, searching for their families or perhaps just hunting their prey. There was little scenery in the wasteland; a desert of desolate nothingness; the occasional cactus or trail of a snake which had tunnelled into the dirt, but that was it. It was literally what its name said, a waste. It varied in comparison to the beautiful countryside which everything else had been painted it – perhaps the creator of the world, if one did in fact exist, got lazy when it came to here. Or perhaps pollution had finally taken its toll. Either way, the statuesque landscape was almost beautiful. Beautifully ugly, and definitely a place to stumble upon once in a while.
However, the stillness it possessed shattered into a million pieces. The drunken singing of a female broke into the world like a sledgehammer to a wall – or maybe somebody’s head. It spilled out blood everywhere, the blood of distaste for the obsidian female that fell side to side with each step and clasped a bottle of Jack Daniels in her slender digits. She would undoubtedly fall over at some point – and along with getting a face full of dirt, she would probably pass out. That would definitely amuse anyone who could see her right now, and it would probably make her chuckle too. After all, when you’re that drunk, who wouldn’t laugh?
“OOOOOOH! It’s a pirate’s life for me....” The words were yelled more than sung, no melody to the female’s voice whatsoever. It was apparent that if she were not intoxicated up to her eyeballs, she could probably carry a tune quite well, but tonight was not one of those times, and that was simply that. Stumbling forward, Lucia’s pelt appeared more grey than ebony – littered with dirt, mud and other random parts of the environment she had picked up in her matted fur as she had fallen several times on her pointless journey. It was not apparent to her where she was right now, and even though it was clear she was in some sort of territory that was not hers – she had just past the northern strip, two or three feet into Inferni territory. The drunken female was in for trouble, there was no doubt about that.
“...Drink up me heartiiiies, yooooo hooooooo!” Her words continued hiccups and forgetfulness ruining what could perhaps have been a decent pirate song. She had a thick smile on her maw. “I’m so gone!” she barked, clearly talking to herself, or maybe the bottle of which she had just taken a rather large swig out of – spilling a lot of it down her chin. “I can’t believe I got this drunk,” she paused, hiccupping in mid-speech. “...What would Snake say?” She put on a stern face, and fell forward, almost ending up on the dirt before steadying herself. “Now, now, now!” she imitated her lover, clearly not meaning it but being too drunk to care. “...What have you done to yourself, my dear Lucia?”
She burst into laughter, her free hand slinging across her chest as she almost doubled over in hysterics. Lucia had no idea why she had decided to go for a walk – or why she had thought it a good idea to drink herself into a stupor. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to have that third joint, or that second bottle of alcohol. Perhaps it had all been a bad idea in the beginning – but when she was miserable, what else could she do? She missed her lover, and she missed sex – it was that simple. The frustration was her excuse, and it worked... kind of. It worked in her mind at least.
Finally, the ebony wolf stumbled over a rock. She fell into the dirt with a thump, grazing her knees and spilling a few droplets of Jack Daniels on the way. She giggled loudly, a high-pitched squeal that didn’t match her personality whatsoever. Lying with her back in the dirt, she pulled out a cigarette from her rucksack which had been slung over her shoulder the entire time – pursing it between her lips, her hands shook as she attempted to light it. Inhaling deeply, her malachite eyes stared up aimlessly at the stars. “Preeeeeettty!” she remarked to herself, exhaling a cloud of smoke and bringing the bottle to her lips once more. Swallowing the liquor, she felt her eyelids become heavy. Tiredness was kicking in, and even though there was a scent of another on the wind, the drunken wolf had no idea. She just started singing again, stopping occasionally to puff her cigarette.
“...And really bad eggs! Drink up me hearties.... Yoooo HOOOOOOOO!”
All Welcome.
-------
The night had began to creep onto the landscape – a full moon rising to the sky, and the clouds disappearing to reveal stars as bright as could be. The world lay silent, bar the distant screeches of owls and crows, searching for their families or perhaps just hunting their prey. There was little scenery in the wasteland; a desert of desolate nothingness; the occasional cactus or trail of a snake which had tunnelled into the dirt, but that was it. It was literally what its name said, a waste. It varied in comparison to the beautiful countryside which everything else had been painted it – perhaps the creator of the world, if one did in fact exist, got lazy when it came to here. Or perhaps pollution had finally taken its toll. Either way, the statuesque landscape was almost beautiful. Beautifully ugly, and definitely a place to stumble upon once in a while.
However, the stillness it possessed shattered into a million pieces. The drunken singing of a female broke into the world like a sledgehammer to a wall – or maybe somebody’s head. It spilled out blood everywhere, the blood of distaste for the obsidian female that fell side to side with each step and clasped a bottle of Jack Daniels in her slender digits. She would undoubtedly fall over at some point – and along with getting a face full of dirt, she would probably pass out. That would definitely amuse anyone who could see her right now, and it would probably make her chuckle too. After all, when you’re that drunk, who wouldn’t laugh?
“OOOOOOH! It’s a pirate’s life for me....” The words were yelled more than sung, no melody to the female’s voice whatsoever. It was apparent that if she were not intoxicated up to her eyeballs, she could probably carry a tune quite well, but tonight was not one of those times, and that was simply that. Stumbling forward, Lucia’s pelt appeared more grey than ebony – littered with dirt, mud and other random parts of the environment she had picked up in her matted fur as she had fallen several times on her pointless journey. It was not apparent to her where she was right now, and even though it was clear she was in some sort of territory that was not hers – she had just past the northern strip, two or three feet into Inferni territory. The drunken female was in for trouble, there was no doubt about that.
“...Drink up me heartiiiies, yooooo hooooooo!” Her words continued hiccups and forgetfulness ruining what could perhaps have been a decent pirate song. She had a thick smile on her maw. “I’m so gone!” she barked, clearly talking to herself, or maybe the bottle of which she had just taken a rather large swig out of – spilling a lot of it down her chin. “I can’t believe I got this drunk,” she paused, hiccupping in mid-speech. “...What would Snake say?” She put on a stern face, and fell forward, almost ending up on the dirt before steadying herself. “Now, now, now!” she imitated her lover, clearly not meaning it but being too drunk to care. “...What have you done to yourself, my dear Lucia?”
She burst into laughter, her free hand slinging across her chest as she almost doubled over in hysterics. Lucia had no idea why she had decided to go for a walk – or why she had thought it a good idea to drink herself into a stupor. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to have that third joint, or that second bottle of alcohol. Perhaps it had all been a bad idea in the beginning – but when she was miserable, what else could she do? She missed her lover, and she missed sex – it was that simple. The frustration was her excuse, and it worked... kind of. It worked in her mind at least.
Finally, the ebony wolf stumbled over a rock. She fell into the dirt with a thump, grazing her knees and spilling a few droplets of Jack Daniels on the way. She giggled loudly, a high-pitched squeal that didn’t match her personality whatsoever. Lying with her back in the dirt, she pulled out a cigarette from her rucksack which had been slung over her shoulder the entire time – pursing it between her lips, her hands shook as she attempted to light it. Inhaling deeply, her malachite eyes stared up aimlessly at the stars. “Preeeeeettty!” she remarked to herself, exhaling a cloud of smoke and bringing the bottle to her lips once more. Swallowing the liquor, she felt her eyelids become heavy. Tiredness was kicking in, and even though there was a scent of another on the wind, the drunken wolf had no idea. She just started singing again, stopping occasionally to puff her cigarette.
“...And really bad eggs! Drink up me hearties.... Yoooo HOOOOOOOO!”