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Post by CHARLIE BLITZER on Feb 19, 2012 19:05:03 GMT -5
Charlie was in rare form.
After spending most of the previous night on a fruitless search for her birth parents, Charlie had slumped into one of her depressions. Who was she? Charlie Blitzer, or someone else? Maybe her real name was Morgan White or Lucy Billows or maybe even Talulah Jones. Who knows what kind of person she was supposed to be before the adoption? The dorm room had stayed dark all day, Charlie staring at the wall. Papa Roach was blaring in her ears, keeping out the world. All she needed to do to get out of this funk was go into the bathroom. There, in the bottom of her medicine cabinent, were the depression meds. Charlie, however, didn't want to take them. She found her clinging to the angry, depressed emotion in her chest like a lifeline. At least it meant she was feeling something. Those fucking meds took away every feeling and Charlie loathed the numb feeling they left behind.
The song changed to "Na Na Na" by My Chemical Romance and suddenly Charlie was consumed by the need to get into trouble. She wanted to bust out and rebel. Leaping from the bed, she transferd her iPod to her iHome, turned the volume as loud as she could, and took a scalding hot shower. With frustrated, manic energy, Charlie scrubbed and shaved everything, crying all her negative feelings away. It felt good; the hot water beating into her skin till it was red and angry. Once she got all, Charlie pulled on her tattered skinnies, silver sequened tanktop, bunches of bangles and high-tops. Her eye makeup was thicker than usual (as Charlie suspected a party in the boy's common room) and Charlie dried and straightened her hair. As an afterthought, Charlie added a spray of red to her hair tips and spritzed on some body glitter.
Finally ready to go, Charlie left her dorm and crossed the short distance to the boy's dormitory. Even though the air was cold and had a definite bite, Charlie didn't seem to feel it. She was ready for a party.
...Three drinks later...
Charlie was having an awesome time! She had just come off the sweaty, crowded dance floor for another drink. Gosh, she was super lucky she had grabbed a pair of cutoff shorts as she was leaving, cus if she had still been in her skinnies she would be HOT! Of course, she already was hot, if you know what I mean. Giggling at her thoughts, Charlie refilled her cup at the keg and started boogying back to the thick mass of bodies. Man, beer did wonders. Her body was all fuzzy and warm from her...how many had it been? Three drinks? Her pondering was interupted as someone bumped into her from behind, the beer sloshing all over the floor. "Mother fucker!!" Charlie shouted, slightly slurred, over the music. She spun around and tabbed her finger into the chest of the guy who had apparently bumped into her. "Dude! Asswipe! You ssspilled my drink!" Charlie held up the now half-empty cup as proof.
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Post by XANDER SYKES on Apr 23, 2012 15:57:04 GMT -5
Xander didn't know what the fuck was going on anymore. Angel was gone, or at least, he thought she was, and Wes was fucking comatose, and then Tramp... Well, he didn't even wanna go there. It was all just so confusing and there was no way he was going to figure it all out any time soon. But he needed to get away from all that for a bit, and there just so happened to be a party going on within walking distance. Grabbing his weed, he proceeded to the party, making sure there was a couch with a table to sit at. Because it's not like he wanted to dance the whole time, and besides, it was funny when people got mad at him when he refused to budge for them to use the couch. Haha, fuck you, this was his seat. Lighting up, he sat, reclined on the couch with a stock of beer, just drinking and smoking. And coughing and hiccuping. A lot.
A lot of drinks and puffs later...
Xander had run out of drinks, and he needed another, bitch! Totally smashed, he made his way as quickly as possible to where the drinks were, grabbed a can of beer and a whole bottle of vodka that no one was guarding and staggered back, surprisingly without falling over. It wasn't until he was almost back to the couch right past the dance floor that he faltered. Er, bumped into someone. Who was yelling at him. "Hey, whoa, chill." His words were slurred and drawn out, and his eyelids were drooping, and he was slouching. "Here, have this." It was a can of beer, and she had a cup, but lol there wasn't a difference, right? Yeeeeah no. "It's no 'red solo cup' or whatever, but it'll do." His faint Irish accent that tended to become more prominent when he was in this sort of condition made his words almost harder to understand.
Oh hey. She was blonde.
"You want some?" Looking at his hands for a moment, he held up the one that still held the weed. Wait. No. She wasn't... oh well. What was he thinking again? Shaking his head, he looked at her. "Whoa that's a lot of glitter." His eyes went all wide, like he had just discovered... something really cool, and grinned. "Dude." Okay, yeah, the 'dude' was kind of random, but whatever. Not caring or really aware anymore if she followed, he made his way back to his couch that was luckily still empty, opening the vodka and taking a big swig. This party was pretty legit, even if the music wasn't really his type. They never really played his type of music at parties like this anyways, so whatever.
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