driftfleet | video/action : open!

Who: Kitty Pryde + everyone
Broadcast: Network
Action: Iskaulit: Dance studio
When: New Year’s Eve (slightly backdated)

[Not long ago she’d been considering the best way to handle Winn’s birthday now that he’s gone and all. She considered enlisting a close friend or two to be on duty for support or distractions or just barricading herself in her room and feeling it and dealing with that. In the end she went with booze. Lots and lots of booze.

When she turns the feed on she’s lying down on a series of three chairs, holding the communicator above her head.]

Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Marina—the underwater prison place—and this tiny alien or robot or possibly dog man thing took over and made it rain fruit punch and then made us dance in a dance marathon and if we didn’t he was going to put us in a room with a moose. And I’m not drunk! [She laughs like she just said something very funny.]

No, no, I mean I am drunk but it’s also true. It was a very strange place. Did you know you had to get a wristband if you wanted to have sex with someone? Yeah. It was like being at a bar and wanting drink. [Speaking of wanting to drink. She looks around for her bottle and then lifts herself up enough to achieve drinking.] Oh! And then it was like enforced monogamy where you could only be with your band partner.

Wristband. Not like music band. You didn’t have to have sex with the person you played the flute with. [More laughing.]

What was I…? Oh, yeah, do you know I haven’t kissed anyone in moooonths? Yeah. Like May. May 10th. [Winn disappeared May 11.] In the prison you couldn’t do that because every two months—if they were months—they would send out these mistletoe robots that would make you kiss someone or lots of someones. Usually lots of someones. They had shrinking forcefields and confetti. I had to kiss a guy without lips once. Did I mention it was a weird place?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh I am sorry, my dear. Let me just adjust so you know how high you are in my regard.

[A faint purr.]

I always like your stories.

[In which Tyrion became the cat in this conversation.]

Yeah? That's nice to hear. There's a lot I haven't really talked about with Marina.

[It happens. They are two feline like souls, after all.]

Well I shall be there soon so we can talk more about things.

I'll be here with my alcohol. I'll even share.

You are absolutely the dearest one of all.

[He smiled warmly, before he went to land his ship within the docking bay of the Iskault.] Hobbling over shortly.

[She's changed positions by the time he arrives. Now she's lying down on the floor with her feet propped up on one of the chairs because why not. There is a partial bottle of vodka or something like it with her and she's whistling "Jingle Bells"—badly.]

.... that is a horrible melody. I hope someone stabbed the composer in the throat many times.

[Tyrion drawled, as he went to climb into the stool next to her.]

That's so unnecessarily violent. You would have fit in so well back home. [She shifts, transferring her legs to his lap once he's sitting.]

That is because I am a Lannister and we always have believed in overkill. [He started massaging her legs because well, they were there and he was Tyrion.]

[Well of course. What else would you even do with legs?] I prefer just the right amount of kill. You get more done that way.

[He has no idea whatsoever. Legs are here to be massaged.]

Well you are always more sensible than I.

[It feels good. She isn't questioning it.] Mmm...

Yes. I am very sensible. Drunk and sensible.

[He digs his thumbs in a little, arching an eyebrow.]

I see that. Why perhaps are we this drunk? [Insight is important. What important day is this?

[She hasn't really been touched like this in months and she's already so easily touch starved as it is. There might be some reason she should object, but she certainly can't think of it.]

It sounded better than crying. [It has also involved crying, but maybe less crying than otherwise?]

[He goes ahead and rubs her thighs, giving her a quiet look.]

And why would you be crying? [His voice quiet.]

It's Winn's birthday. I got him a present just in case... [In case he came back, but he didn't. Of course he didn't.] I got him one for Christmas too.

[He moves down to her feet, his mis-matched eyes becoming grave.]

Well ... then we should have a drink.

I am so far ahead of you on that.

I got drunk for his birthday. How am I going to top it for our anniversary? Or Valentine's Day? Why do we keep making dates up for me to be sad over later?

I am going to appreciate the irony of this statement ... have you ever considered not drinking to escape your problems?

I tried not drinking it away for eight months and I was sad and lonely the whole time. Seemed like a change was in order. [To be fair she had some good days. She's laughed. She's enjoyed friends. But it has been hard overall. She thinks about him every day. Sleeping without him is hard. He was a big part of her life when he was here and he's a big, hollow part of her life now that he's gone. And she doesn't know how to get over it when he might come back. She doesn't want to get over him and move on if she can be with him. But she doesn't know if she can be with him. She just knows it's possible.]

All right, let me ask you ... has drinking made the sadness or loneliness. [He moved forward and grabbed one of her hands. Rubbed the back of her hand, and then in her palm, giving her a serious look.] Perhaps it's time to make a change, for your sake. And for Winn. We both know he would not want this for you.

I told him... I told him if we ever got separated that he should move on. That I want him to be happy more than I want him waiting or hurting. He never wanted to hear it. He always said we'd be together. [Remember those tears she wanted to avoid? They're back.]

Well ... then you should hold on, but you should not in fact let yourself wallow in depression. Is that not anti-productive to ... getting him back.

[A hanky comes from his pocket, and he goes to wipe those tears away.]

[She's never been very good at letting go even after something's been ripped away.]

It's his birthday. I get to wallow on his birthday. [She takes the cloth and tries to stop crying.]

[He gripped her hands tightly in his, giving her a little smile.]

You can wallow. And you can swallow all kinds of liquor. I just want to make sure that you reach your bedroom in one piece, and know that you are not a bad person, who should be alone. You are a good person, who deserves to have her Winn. Tell me you agree.

Edited 2018-01-06 02:23 (UTC)

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