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Post by Clannibal on Sept 28, 2015 17:32:31 GMT -5
sammikay | if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you [HASH]Zach |
There seemed to be a storm brewing in the distance. Standing there on the beachside and staring at the clouds, the young man if twenty-six guessed it would hit land in a matter of hours.
That was not enough time to prepare. And people were getting scared.
Zach had met many of the survivors thus far. He'd already made some friends and some enemies, too. He was unconventional, but already it was made pretty clear that he had taken well good care of those who, in the face of tragedy, had needed leadership. Instead of everyone running off in a panic, or even killing each other, they had all grouped together on the eastern beach and started surviving.
Some food had been scavenged and now they finally felt grounded somehow. That storm in the distance, however, was making Zach feel rather subdued. He wasn't certain, but from the looks of it, it was an entire tropical system. The storm wasn't anywhere near them yet, but it covered the whole entire horizon and the ocean was already churning fiercely. The wind had picked up. The people were antsy. He was already thinking that the cover of the jungle would be safer from wind, but there woould still be falling debris from the treetops. They had to do better than that, even.
Frustrated, Zach had wandered off to the center of the gulf. It had to be a couple of miles wide, it was so large and peaceful. Nobody else seems out and about at the moment. He sat down in the sand, where it was dry, and continued watching the skies with that dark, brooding look he had.
Still no sign of his little brother, Joey. As time passed it became clearer and clearer that he had perished in the crash. He had already searched the wreckage; hardest thing he'd done, actually. Scary as hell. No closure, though.
He sighed and laid back in the sand, closing his eyes without intent to sleep. This may have been the most slacking he'd done since all hell broke loose. Inside, he was a storm as raging as the one approaching them. A hard drink would do him good right about now. He dependency was suddenly run dry, and it was making him irritable. He'd already blown through the scraps found from the wreckage.
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Post by sammikay on Sept 28, 2015 18:56:25 GMT -5
God was she weak. Clutching the half empty bottle in her hand, she could feel the tremors in her fingers. She was angry with herself for falling into the dizzying spell that was addiction in the first place. The worst part is that she had no idea she was really addicted until it was taken from her. Hot messy tears slid down her face as the tiny bottle of Jack shivered like the trees that were now being blown by the wind. She brought the tip to her cracked lips, gently running her tongue over it enough to just get the sweet taste, but not to actually drink it. She was broken, her body craving it so hard that she couldn't even focus on food. The survivors had scrounged up enough to last a bit, but she hadn't even had a bite of food since the crash. All she could do was sip the small bottles that she had stuffed in her tiny carry-on bag and roll one of her 5 cigarettes between her finger tips, constantly clicking the lighter in hopes that it would be dried out enough to work.
She found herself on the deserted side of the beach, gently rolling the bottle in her hands, watching the brown liquid within shake and churn. She sighed deeply, capping the bottle and clutching it until her knuckles turned white. The storm around her was nothing like the storm within. Withdraw has left her in a state of extreme despair. Her flight attendant outfit had been completely torn apart, leaving only the tank-top and cotton shorts she had worn before taking off. In just a week's time, it was obvious that she had lost more weight, mostly visible in her face as she rubbed the fat sloppy tears from her cheeks. She didn't own an ounce of energy in her small body, losing all hope. She rubbed her hands over her tattooed arms, staring out at the ocean as she watched the gray skies churn.
After a few moments, she snapped. The tears flowed quickly, but accompanying them were mad cries of laughter. Laughter at getting the job; who would have hired a flight attendant like her? Maybe they had planned the crash. Laughter at crashing; what a cruel fate to leave her alive when in the wreckage there had been children who deserved life more than her. Laughing at her addiction that was completely controlling her life.
What was a girl to do?
| | Highlights Angry, Addicted, In withdrawl. #LoriCurrently. Lori is facing major withdrawls. She only has three more bottles of alcohol that she had stuffed into her very small bag that had held nothing more than cigarettes and her passport. She's very quick to anger right now, and really isn't dealing with anyone's bullshit very well. | |
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Post by Clannibal on Sept 28, 2015 19:14:36 GMT -5
| if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you [HASH]Zach |
There was an eerie sound of laughter that broke the silent atmosphere of his quiet, brooding stupor. It almost made the hairs on the back of his neck stand when he realized he wasn't alone. And as he quickly stood up and looked around him, finally spotting the sight of the skinny girl near the tree line, he understood that the laughter was not meant to be funny. He couldn't see her face clearly as she was a bit far away, but there was a heavy mood that hung in the air around her slouching body.
He started to walk towards her, and, because he could never quiet his racing mind, he was trying to put a name to the face. She didn't seem to become any more familiar as he came closer and could see her plain as day. She had been crying. And, from the looks of it, very ill off. Zach decided he'd not met this girl before. When he was just a few feet away, he stood in front of her and took the sight in.
There was something really heartbreaking about her. Zach didn't usually feel particularly warm and fuzzy inside for much of anything sentimental, but as soon as he saw her wet cheeks, her almost empty bottle of booze, and the cigarettes, he understood this stranger more than any other survivor he'd met so far. At least, he wanted to think so.
His eyes betrayed those feelings as he stood there staring at the pitiful sight of her. He didn't dare approach her. You could never be sure how these people were going to react to you. This was a fullblown breakdown of humanity and some were unstable.
Without a doubt, she was one of those people.
"That's some sick shit there," he said in a quiet voice, referring to her overall state. Especially the alcohol. It was the drinking that wanted to consume him, too. His willpower was strong, but an addict was still an addict. He'd barely slept since the crash and spent most nights in an anxious, sweating ball of cravings. "I'm going through it, too."
It was all he offered. What more needed to be said? He waited, to see how she'd respond. In case it was aggressively, he was ready to defend himself, of course.
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Post by sammikay on Sept 28, 2015 19:46:15 GMT -5
She was completely lost, and not just in the physical sense. She didn't know where she was, but worst of all, she didn't know where her spirit was. It was crashed and burned just like the plane. With a heart-shattering inhale of breath, the laughter died off to more cries of desperation. She hadn't cried like this since the crash, and honestly it felt good to finally let go. She looked up, green eyes swimming as she looked into the face of the stranger. She bit down on her lip and rubbed the back of her hand across her cheeks quickly. She was just about to say "Come to sneer at the piece of shit who's crying about being stuck on an island?", but right before she regained enough composure to mutter this out, he spoke.
And, wildly, she was not offended. She typically would have bitched out anyone that called her sick shit, but in all honesty, in this moment, that really is what she was. She licked her lips, casting away her eyes back to the churning waters. She couldn't even look him in the face as he stood there before her. She knew he was the leader guy, but beyond that, she had no idea who he was. She couldn't remember him out of the hundred or so passengers that she had welcomed onto the plane before the crash. She felt a whimper crawl in her throat at his offering of a secret of addiction. Without casting her eyes off the ocean, she reached out a terribly bruised and badly cut up arm to snag a bottle. She pulled a cigarette out of her packet, holding them out to him. She finally raised her eyes to him, cleared her throat, and in the voice of a seagull with bronchitis said, "I haven't found a light that works yet".
| | Highlights Angry, Addicted, In withdrawl. #LoriCurrently. Lori is facing major withdrawls. She only has three more bottles of alcohol that she had stuffed into her very small bag that had held nothing more than cigarettes and her passport. She's very quick to anger right now, and really isn't dealing with anyone's bullshit very well. | |
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Post by Clannibal on Sept 28, 2015 21:08:51 GMT -5
| if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you [HASH]Zach |
He never had been much of a smoker. A few times he'd tried it, just wasn't for him. He was more than anything, a social smoker, if he needed to be classified. He took the cigarette that she offered to him anyway. This was their life now, and God knew they needed stress relief. Sex used to be nice, but, it was strange to think that he may never get that again. Secretly he wished she had shared some liquor instead. Probably for the best. He'd end up crying himself to sleep tonight.
"Thanks," he offered to her and stuck the cig behind an ear. He knew enough about making fires without the easy ways. One of the survivors was even better than he was. Zach was hardly a pro, though. It could take him a while. He left her for a second, looking around for some kind of kindle and a sharp edged rock. He found some stones near a palm tree, and quickly mustered up a pile of grass.
When he dumped it all in front of her, he sat and began to work at the fire, striking the stones together rhythmically. Maybe in a few minutes he'd have something. The storm wind probably wasn't helping anything.
Watching his work closely, he spoke to her some more. "I'm Zach. I love alcohol. I had to choose between dying slowly of infection, or having a last drink. I chose to live."
He stopped his striking to lift his left arm and show her the healing wound that stretched from the bottom of his palm down to almost the elbow, where he had poured his last sips.
"It hurt. You know, your arm could use a little bit of disinfecting, too. The searing pain of the alcohol might be a nicer alternative to the other pain."
His eyes darted to hers for a second before he continued striking the stones together. All this work, just for a quick buzz. In ordinary circumstances, it was probably a bad idea to feed their sinful desires. Nothing had changed, then.
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Post by sammikay on Sept 28, 2015 21:44:14 GMT -5
She watched carefully as he tucked the cigarette behind his ear. He left her, and as she sat alone, she clutched the bottle close to her heart and muttered under her breath about how right he was about the shitty thing she was in this moment. She sighed quietly, rubbing the red rings around her eyes. She bit down on her lip, trying to pull it together. With a quick close of her eyes, she muttered something her dad used to tell her whenever she got upset about her mother not being around. With the last words of the quiet phrase that she had repeated as many times as a devote Catholic mutters the hail Mary's, Zach returned and dumped the findings in front of her. Her tears had begun to dry up, leaving her once pretty skin blotchy and red as she tried to gather herself again.
Her bare feet dug into the sand, her toes curling and uncurling as she silent watched him, thin legs pulled to her chest and her arms protectively encircling them. She had long since abandoned the heels that she had worn as an attendant, and instead, was running around without any protection from the elements. That had been one of her motivations to not go with the other guy towards the caves. She wasn't sure how she was going to manage getting through the jungle without some type of shoes.
The rhythm of the stones slapping against each other was oddly calming, She watched, transfixed by the whole process. Zach then quickly ruined it by bringing back what she so desperately wanted to forget. She swallowed hard, clearing her throat, and was happy to hear it returning back to a semblance of normal. "I'm really sorry," she whispered, turing her eyes back up at him.
The silence stretched on as she turned her face to her bloodied arms. They were festering, and he was probably right about the need to disinfect the deep wounds. With a deep swallow she bit back down on her lip and lifted one of her hands to brush her messy hair behind her ear. She hadn't noticed until that moment, but she had still been clutching her bottle. She thought deeply about what he said about the pain. She could only imagine what it would feel like to have that alcohol rip through her skin like that. She had several tattoos, hell her arms and one of her thighs were covered, but she was a baby when it came to stings from medicine. She had never been able to handle rubbing alcohol on wounds. She clenched her teeth, feeling like she was the 5-year-old girl again just wanting her daddy to kiss the boo boo and make it all better.
Life came crashing down on her in such a quick time she hadn't been prepared for any of this. With dark eyes, Lori looked up at Zach, seeking some kind of refuge in this guy who had interrupted her meltdown. "I'm Lori," she said finally, taking a deep, soothing breath. "And I don't know if I can handle it," she added on, looking away from his eyes in extreme embarrassment, because not even in her mind was she able to decide if she meant "it" by her addiction or by the pain of pouring alcohol on open, infected wounds.
| | Highlights Angry, Addicted, In withdrawl. #LoriCurrently. Lori is facing major withdrawls. She only has three more bottles of alcohol that she had stuffed into her very small bag that had held nothing more than cigarettes and her passport. She's very quick to anger right now, and really isn't dealing with anyone's bullshit very well. | |
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Post by Clannibal on Sept 28, 2015 22:16:41 GMT -5
| if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you [HASH]Zach |
Zach usually liked to shove a weakness in someone's face. In reality, he kept careful track of everyone's weaknesses. Just a habit he had. If someone crossed him, it was likely he knew how to punch right back. But now didn't call for a punch. The emotional wounds were laid onto the table, for both of them. He kept picturing his little brother's face and it drove him closer and closer to insanity. If he could have a moderate supply of narcotics, though - well, maybe he could do what many called coping.
Strike. Strike. Strike.
He continued his carefully timed rock strikes. Flecks of stone were tossed one way and another. No sparks just yet.
The crying girl offered a little more information that he took note of. The first was an apology that he listened to with a little bit of an audible snort. As if either of them had anything to apologize for. This girl hadn't taken anything that didn't belong to her, hadn't stolen from others to keep her sorry self alive (that he knew of) and kept to herself. A little sad and pathetic, but much more noble than those addicts who went scouring through everyone's personal belongings while they slept. Zach had managed to stay away from that genre of inhumane.
"Don't apologize. This is a bunch of crappy shit we've been handed. You should be able to drown in as much relief as you want, if I were to have it my way," he told her with a crisp of bitterness to his tone. His rock-striking grew more adamant after this.
He took her comment about "not being able to handle it" as more of a "I'd rather drink" but he couldn't be absolutely sure of what it meant. She didn't like pain? Well, nobody did. He'd only glanced at her arms out of some weird politeness, but it had looked as though it may be a necessity. Time would tell. She would have to make that decision to live or die, when the time came.
"Nice to meet you, Lori. You're kind of cute. You might be cuter if you ate something. Have you eaten, Lori? Eating can be fun, you know."
He grinned at her, as if to lighten the mood. His hands still worked diligently at their task.
"For the record, the group has an on-and-off fire going, back at the beach. I'm sitting here working my ass off on this fire so we don't have to share."
He winked at her. It was mostly true. The fire had just been started this morning. They were finally cooking the fish that that Logan guy had given to the public.
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Post by sammikay on Sept 28, 2015 22:35:52 GMT -5
Her mind had begun to wander, completely captivated by his fire-making. She wondered if he was a boy scout. With that train of thought, she began wondering what kind of things this guy had done as a child to leave him in this situation of withdraw like her. She had come up with a whole made-up backstory for him by the time that he finally spoke again to her. With an inward laugh at her own stupidity she looked at him instead of his hands as he told her to forget about apologizing. She normally wasn't one to throw out apologies. She preferred to just shrug when she offended someone or tell people to suck it up when they complained, but considering her current state, she was in no position to be herself.
When he mentioned food, she felt her stomach churn. She hadn't eaten. Not even a bite since eating...what was it? Pretzels? on the plane. She laughed, and this time it was much different than the sound that had emitted from her earlier when the snap had happened. "You'd be pretty cute too if you could actually get this fire going," she teased back, pushing off the food comment. She would get food eventually. She first had to have a cigarette before she could even think about food. A week without a smoke was so much worse than a week without food. If you don't believe that thought, ask 16-year-old, insecure Lori. She had skipped out many-a-times from eating in exchange for cigarettes.
She immediately felt bad when he told her about the on and off again fire at camp. She had avoided camp as much as she could. She had wanted to deal with this on her own instead of all the people that she had hated when taking care of them on the plane. Grabbing her lighter from the waistband of her elastic shorts, she tossed it to him. "it doesn't work for me, but it might for you," she suggested. Lori looked him up and down after he winked at her, and for a moment she felt like maybe she had a chance at something else to take her mind of things. A quick mental bitch-slap brought her back down on earth. /You're on a fucking deserted island you sick fuck. Just fucking deal with surviving/, she told herself, running her fingers through her hair, wincing at the pain of moving her arm that way.
| | Highlights Angry, Addicted, In withdrawl. #LoriCurrently. Lori is facing major withdrawls. She only has three more bottles of alcohol that she had stuffed into her very small bag that had held nothing more than cigarettes and her passport. She's very quick to anger right now, and really isn't dealing with anyone's bullshit very well. | |
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Post by Clannibal on Sept 29, 2015 12:29:10 GMT -5
| if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you [HASH]Zach |
Zach loved to be ostentatious at times but the girl met his flamboyance in stride. Eh, she'd probably be alright, then. She still seemed to have a lot of personality left in her and she managed even a laugh. The laugh was followed by some teasing of her own as she suggested he get a move on to get the fire going. He puffed out air from his mouth that turned into raspberries.
"I know I look like Harry Potter, but all this magic in me is just dried up," he said, sarcastically of course. He thought for a second that he saw sparks fly from the rocks, but may have imagined it. His arms were getting tired. They were already kind of sore from everything else that had happened. But he wasn't going to stop now.
He saw her move out of the corner of his eye and he looked to watch her reach for a lighter. He laughed at it as she tossed it to him. "A lighter. Wouldn't that just be perfect?"
His eyes hesitated on hers, briefly. There was an odd feeling in the air that he couldn't quite place after seeing her expression change to something more thoughtful. He probably imagined all of it. As she moved her arms and winced, he squinched his lips in disapproval, but said nothing as he slapped the lighter a couple times on his palm and proceeded to flick it near the brush. Nothing. Stubbornly, he kept trying a few more times.
By the fifth click, something happened. There was a flickering flame licking the grass. Just like that, the shrubbery was engulfed in a flame, and on cue, Zach grabbed at the cigarette before the flame could die off.
"I'm not saying I have magic fingers," he joked, leaning back to take the cig in his mouth, "but I'm obviously a lucky dude."
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Post by sammikay on Sept 29, 2015 13:55:14 GMT -5
She dropped her face back down to relax, resulting in her common issue of resting bitch face. She had finished fixing her hair to one side of her angular face, attempting to cool down in the heat around her. She had her ascot from her attendant's outfit, but currently it was tied around her thigh on a wound that had particularly hurt when she moved. She tucked her chin on her knee and rubbed her eyes, glad that the tears had finally stopped. She was never one for emotional responses, and it was chilling to think that she had been breaking down like she had.
She caught his gaze at the harry potter reference, and was able to crack a tiny smile while allowing her eyes to fall back down him to his hands once more. "That's unfortunate," she mumbled, instictively rolling her cigarette between her thin fingers as she watched. A cool wind blew by, and this brought her attention to the clouds that were mixing as thoroughly as the ocean. That storm was coming, and she wasn't sure what was going to happen. She had already survived one disaster; she wasn't sure if she could do another. After he piddled with the lighter, she ventured out to ask him a few questions. "What do you think we should do about this storm? You are the one in charge, right?" she clarified, casting her face away from him and the pile of grass to stare out at sea. She could sea the huge waves now, preparing themselves to crash onto shore and take them all out.
She quickly turned her head back to him when she heard the familiar click of her lighter. She wasn't surprised when it didn't work, and she was about to ask for it back so the gas wasn't wasted, but just like that, the flame took to the grass and ignited in the tiniest, but most exciting fire she had ever seen. "Oh my god, Zach!" she cried, bending out of the ball she had created with her body and dipping her cigarette's tip into the flame and placing her plump lips on the filter. She took in a deep breath, and like that, she was renewed.
She leaned back, sitting flat on her ass with her long bare legs stretched out completely as she closed her eyes. She could literally feel the smoke curling in her throat and lungs, and happily, she released it from inside her. She opened her eyes, very slowly, and watched as the thin wisp of blue smoke curled from her lips and the end of her cigarette. "Nothing short of a miracle," she whispered, taking another long drag. For a moment, she wasn't stuck on this god-forsaken island. She was back home, sitting at her favorite bar, scoping out for that night's entertainment. She was back in her comfort zone, not worrying about what was going on around her, and wondering if she would even be alive the next morning. Pulling herself back from her daydream, she locked eyes with her hero. "I literally could kiss you right now," she said with a half-assed grin, smiling more to herself as she looked back down at the cigarette between her fingers as she took another long drag.
| | Highlights Angry, Addicted, In withdrawl. #LoriCurrently. Lori is facing major withdrawls. She only has three more bottles of alcohol that she had stuffed into her very small bag that had held nothing more than cigarettes and her passport. She's very quick to anger right now, and really isn't dealing with anyone's bullshit very well. | |
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Post by Clannibal on Sept 29, 2015 19:20:26 GMT -5
| if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you [HASH]Zach |
Watching her reactions to the small flame was pretty satisfying. Not that he was full of himself, or anything. Of course he wasn't.
He also sat back to enjoy a few long inhales of the newly lit cigarette, watching Lori as she enjoyed hers. She seemed like a totally different person than the one he was standing over a few minutes ago. She really was a sick addict. He didn't say it out loud, not that there'd be any point. She knew it as much as he did. It made him imagine what was ahead for her. A rocky road. Fights, tears, cutting maybe. Isn't that what teens did these days?
Oops, he really wasn't sure of her age. Well, kind of. She was covered in tattoos, and her face spoke of adult experience. But she had almost a soft baby face, he thought. Guess he shouldn't be inappropriate by making a sexual joke pertaining to her "omg Zach" outburst in case she was actually fifteen or something. Darn, that one was set up perfectly, too.
"Cheers," he said, his breath swirling in a cloud, only to be quickly swept away by the wind.
He continued to watch her, looking curious more than anything. She had asked about the storm and his leadership, but he didn't respond right away.
He scratched thoughtfully at the stubble growing in on his chin. "I guess you could say that. Nobody else seemed to be smart enough to form their own opinions. They gladly dumped their burdens on me."
It wasn't a bitter tone at all. More of a it's pathetic undertone. In reality, he had no qualms about how everything was playing out so far. Maybe it was just the kind of distractions he had needed. And it had gone smooth. Felt good to help people, but he wasn't exactly a lovable person. He had a feeling that people would realize that soon enough. He was sharp edged, quick to the point, and made you face your weakness, whether you were angry about it or not. People tended to go nuts when they were forced to see the shitty parts of themselves.
"I think it's a hurricane," he admitted. He had yet to say anything to the others. Who knows who would panic. He'd rather find a solution first before letting them understand that it could kill them. "I need to explore more. Someone said they may have found caves. Sounds like our best option."
The wind tossed his hair and he lifted his legs, resting outstretched arms on each knee.
"You aren't going to go crazy on me again when the cig runs out, are you?" Upfront Zach. Just his style. He wanted honesty, that was all. He was already wondering if her addiction would prove fatal. He didn't want to see that. It was scary. He didn't want to go crazy, either. But, every night seemed to get worse, and he had nobody to talk to about it.
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Post by sammikay on Sept 29, 2015 19:37:11 GMT -5
Her heart was happy in this moment. She had been completely swept away by the nicotine, and she couldn't be more happy about it. This cigarette had just opened a whole world for her. She could finally eat, maybe drink some water now. There was a whole new strive to surviving for her that had been absent about a half an hour ago. She watched as the cigarette slowly began to fade down, each inhale eating away at this joy of hers.
She grinned, nodding her head at his cheers to her. She looked at her hand holding the thin cigarette, noting that the last bit of her red nail polish was flaking off. Finally looking up at him, she noted his stormy expression. She wondered briefly what it would be like to have all this responsibility thrusted onto her. She felt bad for him. "I'm sure they wouldn't have done that if you hadn't created an image that you could handle it," she reasoned, noting how until now, no one had came to her for anything. She had stayed away and had been left alone.
She swallowed at the mention of hurricane. She had never really known much about tropical storms, and the only thing she knew of hurricanes she had learned from Hurricane Katrina. That, and she knew if she was in a state that had a hurricane, her flights would be cancelled and she would still get paid for it. She sat quietly, watching him intently before looking down at her bare feet. She wanted to stay around her boy scout. She had a feeling that he would come in handy, and honestly it was not a bad idea to hang around the guy making all the decisions.
Here he was again, bringing back reality. Her cigarette at this point was nearly out, and she was about to need to face this. "No, I'm not," she said quietly. "I did give you one, didn't I? That's a step." she said, her voice full of disdain, and not at giving him one, but at herself for being such an addict. She knew she would have to get through this. She only had 3 more cigarettes and only 4 more little bottles of alcohol. If she had been back at home, slamming those down wouldn't have even given her a buzz. But, at this emaciated state, she knew a splash of alcohol would send her head swimming. She needed to save those for a time that it was absolutely necessary.
"Can I ask you to do something for me? I know that you're already doing so much shit around here, and honestly it is really shitty of me to add to that. But, would you just hold onto them for me?" she said quickly, grabbing her packet of cigarettes and the small bag that had her passport and the remaining bottles. She ignored the protest of her arm as she reached out, holding the bag to him. "I think it might be easier if I don't see them all the time," she muttered, breaking her eye contact to look at her feet again.
| | Highlights Angry, Addicted, In withdrawl. #LoriCurrently. Lori is facing major withdrawls. She only has three more bottles of alcohol that she had stuffed into her very small bag that had held nothing more than cigarettes and her passport. She's very quick to anger right now, and really isn't dealing with anyone's bullshit very well. | |
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Post by Clannibal on Sept 30, 2015 12:07:50 GMT -5
| if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you [HASH]Zach |
Was it just an image he'd created? He didn't think so. He wondered how to take that sentence. Did she see something weak in him, or was it just a general statement? He decided the latter. As much as he tried to read people, he just wasn't always the best at it. He could be prone to overthinking if his mind was clouded. He was much better at reading into what people thought of themselves, not him.
He too was thinking about how she had spent a lot of time alone now in this tragedy. Like a sick cat, slinking away because it preferred to die alone. He tried to scratch that thought, too. Nobody wanted to die alone, no matter what kind of nonsense they said.
She waved away his predictions of another meltdown. He was satisfied with her answer. She did share, and he was grateful, and that was enough to convince him that she'd be alright. He smirked crookedly at her and nodded in agreement.
"Thanks for taking a step. The pleasure's all mine," he said, taking one more inhalation and feeling like he was the same person as before, maybe just a tad calmer inside. He still wanted a drink. It was crazy how much he wanted it. He never felt anything this strongly before. He'd never noticed how deep he was in, back at home where the fridge was always neatly packed. He couldn't even really remember when he started drinking every day. A teenager, at least.
It was almost as if she'd read his mind. She asked him something very specific and his heart skipped several beats. Eyes dropped down to the things she had gathered before him. He swallowed hard and felt angry for a moment, for a reason he couldn't place. In reality he was probably angry at his own momentary weakness. A dark thought crossed his mind; take the things, walk away, and hide in the woods for a few days.
"Dammit. I can't do that," he grumbled, feeling a cold sweat come on. There wasn't much in her stash, but it was enough to tempt him into the same hole she was in. He didn't see how any of this was going to work.
"I have a better idea," Zach announced as his hand snatched one of the bottles. As he unscrewed the aluminum cap, he continued, "Let's get drunk together for the first and last time. Use everything up, have one last fiesta, and then die in this hellhole after we sober up."
The bottle was open, but he hesitated before taking a gulp, to gauge her reaction. He wasn't sure what he was doing right then, and he didn't know which response he most wanted from her. He rested both arms on his knees like before as the wind blew at the small fire he'd made. Time was running short for it.
Maybe, between the hunger and mental state, this would be enough to get slightly sloshed.
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Post by sammikay on Sept 30, 2015 17:08:02 GMT -5
She had known that she was asking a lot of him. It was unfair for her to subject him to the same temptations that she endured. His grumbling wasn't angry in tone, but it felt like a slap to the face. Lori had quickly came to the conclusion that she was going to have to hold onto the bottles and face the temptation every minute of every day to not drink them.
Her heart thudded in her chest, and she reached a pale hand to place her palm over it, feeling the heavy beat. She bit down on her lips, looked down at her bare feet, and sighed deeply. Through her head swam images of how awful this week and turned out to be, and not just because of the tragedy, but because of the withdraw that she had been subjected to. Maybe, for once in her life, she would sober up. That was, if she lived long enough in this godforsaken place to have the time to reach that state. She had begun to ball back up, when Zach interrupted her self-loathing.
Her eyes grew wide with each word. At first he wanted her to pour this on her arms, and now he wanted to pour it down their throats. For a long moment, she said silently and just stared at him. Finally, very late to the party, her lips began to curl up in a smile. "It's a date," she said while simultaneously snapping open the cap of another bottle. She took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for this drink. "I'll warn you, it's not going to take much for me. Like you noticed, I haven't eaten since before the crash," she admitted, tipping her head back and closing her eyes as the tequila bubbled out of the bottle and onto her awaiting tongue.
She dropped her chin back down and wiped the back of her hand across her lips. "What did you do before all this?" she asked, adjusting so that she was more comfortable in the sand. For a moment, she could forget all about the storm that was brewing and that would be here in what she assumed a matter of a day.
| | Highlights Angry, Addicted, In withdrawl. #LoriCurrently. Lori is facing major withdrawls. She only has three more bottles of alcohol that she had stuffed into her very small bag that had held nothing more than cigarettes and her passport. She's very quick to anger right now, and really isn't dealing with anyone's bullshit very well. | |
Template by Kuroya of THQ & GS.
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Post by Clannibal on Oct 2, 2015 12:20:00 GMT -5
| if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you [HASH]Zach |
"We will eat after this. Coconuts and fish and bananas."
Grinning, he wasn't sure what kind of decision he was making right now. It was a selfish one, that was for sure, and he'd be mostly useless for the remainder of the day, now. But he'd done enough. The people were becoming mostly self-sufficient as they gained back a bit more strength now that there was water and more food. They simply lacked courage to continue. They wanted to stay united. As soon as he was able to stand, he'd grant their wish and usher them off into the trees to go on a man hunt for new, more confined corners.
He gulped down the drink as fast as he could, feeling the burn of it strongly in his chest. He closed his eyes and felt as though he wasn't satisfied just yet. More. More. But he'd take his time. Let the first drink start working on him. He rolled the small bottle across his knuckles in a smooth trick. The other hand held the cig and, after one last inhale, it seemed time to discard it, so he did, in the sand next to him.
Joey would be rolling his eyes at him right now, probably. You'd rather drink that stuff than eat something? Crazy kid hadn't even begun to live yet.
Snapped out of his sad thoughts, Zach opened his eyes when he heard Lori say something. He tuned in, catching just enough to piece the sentence together.
What did he do? He furrowed his brows for a second. He'd never thought about what his life meant, now that it was over. What was the most important thing about him? He rubbed his fingers across his chin, staring at the dying flame in the pile of brush in front of them. It was mostly just smoke at this point.
"Web design. I worked from home most of the time. My cousin and I were computer addicts. On days off I was outside doing something. Living." He shrugged, still keeping his gaze low to the ground. Unlike Lori, he really hadn't relaxed enough yet to forget the world around them. "Doesn't matter any more. We are going to be stuck here until we're dead. If that's a hurricane out there, the rescue teams are gonna have to call it quits. And by that time, they'll assume we died out at sea."
He placed the emptied bottle down and started sprinkling sand inside of it. The nice thing to ask would be about her, now. And maybe he was interested, but the idea that it was pointless now made him stubbornly angry about all of it.
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