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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 18:27:30 GMT
Between the unhinged feeling that Frank brought with his arrival and the influx of holiday bookings, Nae had a difficult time at work. We want to see snow, we want to see sand, we want to get laid, she was tired of listening to other people's problems when she had more than enough to go around.
When she got back to her apartment, she walked past Franklin sitting on the couch and laid a brown paper bag on the small kitchen table. She tucked it down, revealing an imposing bottle of vodka. "Let's play a game," she says, turning on a heel to rifle in her cabinets for a shot glass.
When she found it, she returned to the table and pulled off the sweater she had been wearing. A tank top was more comfortable, but she still wanted shorts as opposed to these professional (and dull) slacks. "I'll ask you a question about me, and you answer. If you answer wrong you take a shot, if you answer right then I take one." She opened the bottle and filled the little cup. "And vice versa."
She gets up and walks behind him towards her room, so she can change into yoga shorts. "We can start off with something easy," she says, since she plans to get very drunk with or without his help. The last time she was anything close to 'wasted' was probably in high school. "Like 'How old am I?'"
She walks out, changed, looks at his silhouette. "Well, how about it?" | [attr="class","appls"] [attr="class","beprp"]@frank can you stand up straight for me |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 20:28:11 GMT
| [attr="class","humpty"]He left the house yesterday, blessed child of an instrument weighing down his shoulder. There wasn't a job yesterday, jobs came rare and few, but busking during the growing bitter winter months always proved awarded. He wasn't the first to make money out of sympathy, and wouldn't be the last, either. Frank woke up late that morning. It was ten to twelve and he felt lethargic. He only drank one mug of coffee, and it still sat on the corner of the desk when Nae came back from work. Having something interesting to watch, for once, instead of filling his hours with miscellaneous activities, his gaze naturally followed her figure, moving around and giving him a headache. He nodded instead of speaking, as if marveling the sound of her voice, or waiting it to end. Frank still doesn't have anything to say to the vodka bottle or her little game; he hadn't recklessly drank alcohol since he left high school, and the idea of it now was strange. Either way, didn't sound like he had anything to lose. Why should he refuse her? He turned to look at her. "Alright then."@noemi |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 20:32:56 GMT
She sits at the table and holds the small shot glass between her forefinger and thumb, regarding it. "What's my favorite color?"
Maybe it's not easy, but it's bland. It's safe. Wait... a thought process like that sounds like later the questions won't be bland, or safe. Nae shrugs to herself, eyes heavy lidded. Maybe she's more of a masochist than she thought. | [attr="class","appls"] [attr="class","beprp"]@frank can you stand up straight for me |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 20:38:02 GMT
| [attr="class","humpty"]He dragged himself over to her, and took a seat opposite. Pale blue eyes scrutinized the vodka label, but it wasn't as if he was trying to gauge how strong it was. Frank stared at the other shot glass. "White?" He offered, not at all certain. Not to her face, either. @noemi |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 20:41:36 GMT
"White's not a color," she says blithely. "It's the absence of color, scientifically speaking." Noémi smiles, not because she's in a good mood but because she's in a... strange mood. Maybe. Something makes her want to smile at him, that's all.
She shrugs, closes her eyes. "Wrong, anyway." She extends her hand to him, giving him the shot. "It's burgundy."
Nae puts her elbows on the table, balances her chin between her hands. Her hair falls over her shoulder and her fringe covers a bit of the side of her face. "Hit me," she says, ready for his question. | [attr="class","appls"] [attr="class","beprp"]@frank can you stand up straight for me |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 20:47:16 GMT
| [attr="class","humpty"] "Ah, right." He rolled his eyes. It was a throwaway question anyway; other than the primary and secondary colours, fancy names were beyond him. He didn't care. He was, still, taken aback by her smile, though. He knew better than to react. He poured himself a shot, it very nearly spilling, and downed it in one go before second thoughts would arise. A warmth began to spread though his insides when he placed the glass down, playing it with. "Alright... uh... when did I start playing guitar?" His gaze finally trailed back to her face. "Bit hard, that one."@noemi |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 20:52:03 GMT
When she looks at his face she thinks about kissing him, about being a hair's width away and his lips on her cheek. I am miserable.
His question is perfectly timed, and she absorbs herself thinking about it. She wants to say fourteen, maybe fifteen. On instinct, she answers. "Fourteen?" She doesn't sound sure of herself, and honestly she doesn't remember. She should. Maybe he told her at one point.
Forgetting is the name of the game. | [attr="class","appls"] [attr="class","beprp"]@frank can you stand up straight for me |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 20:55:55 GMT
| [attr="class","humpty"]There was a gap between finger pointing and speech. Of course, Frank doesn't think before he acts, there was always an element of pointlessness behind each one. "Bass." He simply answered. "Close enough. The two aren't that different." He shrugged, wondering what fate she'd decide for herself. @noemi |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 21:07:27 GMT
"That means you're losing." She nodded to the glass, meaning that he should fill it up and take another shot.
After he does it, she decides she's a little bored and fills the glass up halfway before throwing it back and swallowing the shot. It burns going down and it burns in her stomach and Nae is struck with the reminder of how much she dislikes dry martinis.
Then she realizes that in about ten minutes Frank will be slurring.
But she doesn't necessarily have sympathy for him.
"Am I an only child?" | [attr="class","appls"] [attr="class","beprp"]@frank can you stand up straight for me |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 21:18:49 GMT
| [attr="class","humpty"]He straightened up his posture instead of slouching on the table. He doesn't study her face, he's not in the mood. The word 'losing' still had that effect on him. "I'm gonna vote no. Why not." As far as he could remember, Noemi rarely spoke of her family. She did seem like an only child, but he'd rather not stick to logic. Even if he'd die of alcohol poisoning by dawn. @noemi |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 21:25:21 GMT
"Wrong again," her stomach hurts but she knows it isn't because of the small shot she took. "I mean, in a few months you'll be right. But not right now." She does the honor of pouring the glass for Frank.
Noémi smirks a little when she thinks about how much he's losing, and something in her starts to tick. The questions will get meaner and she's too sober to be having fun.
She raises an eyebrow, waiting for his question. She holds out the full glass for him to take. | [attr="class","appls"] [attr="class","beprp"]@frank can you stand up straight for me |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 21:31:40 GMT
| [attr="class","humpty"]He groaned, but swiftly took the shot from her and downed it all in one go. He felt like stars were gonna fill his eyes. "Give me a break." He sighed as if he was exhausted already. Yet, he wasn't at all surprised by this situation. He folded his arms and tried to think of a harder question. "Okay, so. When did we first become friends? Be specific."@noemi |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 21:35:18 GMT
"Fuck," she says openly, putting her palms on the table.
"I'm not going to pretend to have an answer because I feel like we've always been friends," or as close as Nae got. She couldn't pinpoint a specific moment. Just not-Frank and then Frank and then back to not-Frank. The timeline was too loose for her to hold.
Honesty aside, she wanted an excuse to drink. | [attr="class","appls"] [attr="class","beprp"]@frank can you stand up straight for me |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 21:37:49 GMT
| [attr="class","humpty"]With a sly grin, he reaches to pour her a shot until it overflows slightly, clear liquid making tiny pools on the table. He slid it over to her and then leant back, shrugging. "Not gonna lie, I'm coming to like this game. Hit me."@noemi |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 17, 2013 21:45:29 GMT
With an incredibly steady hand, she brings the glass to her lips without spilling anything. She downs it, bites her lip and then smiles ruefully. "You didn't even tell me the answer to the question," she says, feigning anger.
Shrugging it off, she continues. Her stomach is warm, she can't even imagine how Frank feels. "How many men have I slept with?" She wasn't expecting him to know of course, but she was interested in what he would guess.
| [attr="class","appls"] [attr="class","beprp"]@frank can you stand up straight for me |
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