Re: Rorahkins and Dreamehkins off on another whirlwind adventure ;D [Mature Content]

[Rorah]

Harley paused as Nico's voice answered in her ear, her mouth open. What could she say?
I think that your prostitute friend I happened to see you with is dead?
I know this because apparently I'm now a crazed psycho killer who can't remember anything that happened?

Shit.

"Uhh-" her hand tightened around the edge of the basin. "Something happened."
She quickly gave the address of the street, barely able to keep her voice level with poorly disguised panic. "I was walking down the street and...I heard a scream and by the time I got there I-" She took a deep breath. "It was The Harlequin."

[Dreambug]

If Nico had been eating anything then, of even if he'd eaten that day, he'd have vomited. The Harlequin... She knew he'd been with Alice. But how? How did she even know where he was? Alice had been a one night stand, that's all. It's not like she'd put it all over facebook or anything. So how did the Harlequin know exactly who he was with all the time?
Damn. If she knew things like that so easily, then everyone he'd ever known... Every one of his friends were in danger.
"D-dead?" He stuttered, grabbing the nearest firm surface to keep from falling over. He'd been with her the day before. Just the day before. He'd slept with her. He'd kissed her. And now she-
"How?" He croaked, tears pricking at his eyes. "I don't understand... How? Why? What the Hell did that bitch want with her?"

[Rorah]

"Look, I-I don't know, okay?" She raised a shaking hand to her forehead to wipe off the sweat that had accumulated. "I have no idea... she was stabbed I think." She swallowed past the rising lump in her throat.
"W-who was she to you? You sound pretty shocked so...she must have meant something." Something twisted in her gut, jealousy? Although the feeling was certainly not her own.
"I didn't want to stick around...with the cops and everything but..." She shrugged, a useless gesture since he was two and a half miles away. She turned around, her pacing had brought her to the edge of the small room, and her gaze fell on the Harlequin costume that had so hastily been thrown over in the corner of her room. That damn thing. She wanted to curse, but held back on the obscenities until she was alone and off of the phone. It had all been a bit of fun...although fun wasn't the word that she meant to have used. Her definitions were seriously f'cked up.

[Dreambug]

Nico sat with his head in his hands. Stabbed... There were more horrific ways to go. He couldn't think of many, though. He wanted to vomit thinking about it. What would her last words be? Well, if that Harlequin's face was the last thing you saw you wouldn't exactly be dying happy.
He thought about what Harley had asked him. Who had Alice been to him? Well... He couldn't exactly say she was his f*ck buddy, but she was hardly his girlfriend either.
“Of course she meant something.” He growled, squeezing the phone so tightly his knuckles went sheet white. “She was a friend. We... We had a fling. Once or twice.” More than that, but it wasn't exactly Harley's business, was it?
“Wait.” He frowned as something occurred to him. “Why did you run from the cops? It's not like you had anything to do with it.”

[Rorah]

[[Oh my god I'm watching a playthrough of The Last of Us. I was sobbing within the first 15 minutes]]

Harley tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and leaned over the basin in the bathroom. She was still in her underwear, and the chill in the air caused her skin to prick up in goosepimples, but she was hardly aware. It wasn't the reason why she was shaking. "Nico, I-" She swallowed and shook her head. "I escaped from prison...remember? They won't exactly brush past me like I'm a nobody. What could I have possibly have done? They know it was....her. I'm pretty sure they saw that when she ran off."

[Dreambug]

((Not heard of it. What's it about?

Going to bed, since the wifi has gone all weird and slow and douchey. -_- Hoping it'll be better tomorrow, since it's a bit off and on at the moment. Gnight. ))


“But...” Nico sat on a desk on the old office, resting a foot on the desk chair below him. “I don't understand... What does the Harlequin have to do with you? I get you didn't want to be seen, but why would they link what happened back to you?” He stopped, then seemed to shrink into his seat, rubbing his goose-pimpled arms anxiously.
“Harley? Why do you sound so guilty?”

[Rorah]

[[Agh it's about a zombie epidemic. It's so sad D: Night! And please be on tomorrow, I'll be so bored :(My mum's ill at home so I have to stay at home and help her out and stuff.]]

Harley was silenced, unsure of what to say. In the silence, she ran her free hand through her thick black hair, some of it spilling through her fingers and falling in front of her pale face. Looking up into the mirror hanging above the basin, her green eyes met with her reflection's.
"Because I saw it all happen and I didn't do anything and-" She started in a rush, shaking her head like she was trying to convince someone right in front of her. In the corner of the mirror, she saw the flash of red that was the costume, and she sighed, a sound of resignation.
"Because I know who it is." She said finally, her tone defeated. "Or at least I think I do." She added hurriedly.

You know, if you do this, all your fun will be at at end. You'll go back to prison for the rest of your life to make up for the absence of the death penalty. You'll rot in a cell. You'll be classed as mentally unstable. A real threat to society. There was a sneering voice in the back of her head, and she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose hard, to try and get rid of it. Then I'll just escape again.

She could sense her words hitting home on the other end of the phone, and she shrugged. "I don't know them that well. I thought I did but...recently they've surprised me a lot more than I've liked. And before you ask, no I'm not telling you who I think it is. Doing so would be the death of me." 
"I ran because they'd arrest me for escaping prison, that's all." She said firmly into the receiver, clearing up the matter. "It's not a piece of cake, you know." She lied easily. She'd never tell him exactly how she did it, it was pretty much effortless. Harley walked back into the main bedroom and surveyed the scene. The bed sheets were messy and unkempt where she had last slept, and the curtains were drawn, halting light from spilling into the enclosed room. The living space of someone with very little money. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, and she was careful to hide it in her tone. "What can you say, I'm just another criminal." Removing the receiver from her ear, she pressed end call with a small flourish, and flipped the phone back onto the bed. If he wanted to know more, he'd just have to come and find her. She was rather looking forwards to seeing his rather attractive face again, she thought with a more evident grin. 


Hastily tugging on a pair of jeans, her tank top, a leather jacket and some boots, she rooted around in her bag for her cigarettes and shoved them into her jacket pocket, making sure everything was stuffed right to the bottom of the bag and zipping it up. Costume included. Emptying one of the cigarettes between her lips, she headed out of the door, not bothering to lock it behind her. 


When she was out into the open air, she headed for the bar she had visited before. It was run down, shabby and dirty, but she liked the crowd. Most of them had criminal records, of course. She'd just be another face, that was all. 


Half an hour later, Harley found herself seated at the bar with a bottle of beer in her hand and her rucksack slung over one shoulder. Stubbing what was remaining of her second cigarette in the ashtray, she took another swig from the bottle and looked up at the tv above the bar. It was where she preferred to be. Motels and travel inns made her uneasy, she wanted to be constantly moving from place to place, or at least in a place where people would accept her. She'd had her fair share of unwelcome crowds. With her hand curled loosely around some alcohol, she found it easier to think, and she was trying to cast her mind back to perhaps an hour before she had woken up in her underwear on the bedroom floor. It wasn't that odd, admittedly she had woken up in stranger places with less clothes on, but it begged the question; What on earth had happened? She had killed that poor wretch, that was for sure. But what worried her was how an hour or so of her memory was completely gone. Usually she could remember eventually, not before some afterthought. But all that was coming back to her now were minuscule details, the brief chase down the stairs, the knife, the run from the cops. 


But nothing on why. She had killed the twenty-something druggie in the alley cause he had the money. All three grand of it. That run from the cops where she had skinned her hand on the gravel...that was just self defense. But there was nothing there as to why that girl had to die. Was it just something spiteful, something done in the heat of the moment? Or did it mean something else, like...a personal attack on Nico? Suddenly she was aware of a bad taste in her mouth, and she gripped the bottle and took a long drink, not wanting to think about it any more. 


What she had told him...about knowing the Harlequin, the chances were he wouldn't take that lightly. Not with a dad who was the Chief of Police, anyway. She guessed he would be torn between running to talk to her and running to tell him, although he didn't seem the type to tell daddy absolutely everything. Chances are, he'd try and find her before anything.
Draining the bottle, she casually flipped some coins down on the bar as a tip - which received a grunt of appreciation from the bartender- and slipped out of the chair, heading for the door and the fresh air. 

"Not if I find you first." She muttered to herself, grinning.

[Dreambug]

The first time Harley spoke in response to his questions, Nico had no idea what she'd said because she'd spoken so fast. But soon she seemed to regain her control, and told him, calmly, “Because I know who it is.”
He wanted to demand answers. He wanted her to tell him there and then who the Harlequin was so he could find her through the police and bring her down for everything she'd done. But before he could demand anything from Harley she told him firmly that she wasn't telling him who it was, and it would be 'the death of her'. He frowned at this, but was in far too much shock to make sense of it. But the more she talked, the the less sympathetic she sounded, and by the time she hung up she sounded almost pleased with herself for some reason. It made Nico uncomfortable. Reminded him of the terror brought upon him by the Harlequin. And for the first time, he feared Harley. ((I love how he doesn't pick up on the whole 'Harley/Harlequin thing. XD)) But he couldn't be left hanging after a confession like that. He couldn't just let her hang up and leave him after everything that had happened.

So, whilst his father was out he stole his small, hand held pistol and slipped it under his shirt, then headed out to go find Harley. He would get an answer, whether he had to force it out of her or not.

[Rorah]

((Ahah, no one ever does XD)) 

An hour later, Harley had stationed herself on a bench on the outskirts of town, which overlooked a field and the countryside beyond. As much as she loved the city, it was nice to get away from it all. Of course, not all away - the quarter empty bottle of cheap, watered-down vodka gripped in her left hand was a kind of odd reminder that she'd have to go back at some point - but it was nice to smell the fresh air instead of the damp and the dodgy oriental takeaways. Taking a final swig, she capped the bottle and sat it on the bench next to her, running her tongue over her teeth and tasting the alcohol on her breath. As soon as she had left the bar, it had dawned on her that she hardly had any money at all. Of course, the logical thing was to go back and pay the hotel bill. Instead, Harley had gone out and bought the first thing that came into her head. Her purchase was the reason why she was feeling a little light headed, although not drunk enough to prevent her from thinking straight. She'd always been good at holding her liquor.
The possibility of mugging another hapless passer-by had occurred to her, but the more she thought about her recent memory loss, the more she wanted to throw the damn costume away and never look at it again. It worried her to the point of madness. Shaking her head in anger, she paused for a beat, before uncapping the bottle and taking a long drink. Already her mind was on where she'd have to stay next, and when it came up blank, she just waved away the thought with a sigh. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

[Dreambug]

Nico had first checked the hotel reception for Harley, but he'd been told she was no longer in her room, and had gone out. The receptionist had no idea where she'd gone.
Swearing, Nico got on his motorbike and headed on a quick tour around the block, checking down alleyways and back streets, but she was nowhere to be found.
He found a drain on a cobbled street and vomited.
So much had happened in the last few weeks. Too much. He'd lost Alice, and that was just the start. This Harlequin was never going to stop coming after him. Why was she even after him, anyway? Weren't there more important people in the world she could steal money from, or erase off the earth to get off her case?
He soon found himself wandering into a bar and buying himself a few shots of Tequila. He didn't even drink tequila, but it was fun to say. Even more fun when you were drunk.
He wandered outside after buying a bottle for himself – after his shots, of course – and found a familiar face on the bench outside.
“Harley?” He asked, his voice faintly slurred. Too much tequila already. Probably not a good idea since he was the only one able to drive his motorbike. “Whaddar youd oin' outta here?”

((Poor sod. XD))

[Rorah]

Harley jumped as a sudden voice appeared behind her, and her first instinct was to hide the alcohol. Already having the bottle half stuffed into her bag, she turned and saw Nico, stumbling towards her in a drunken swagger. She still had her mouth open to say something, and raised her eyebrows at him. He was completely plastered. "I was hoping for a peaceful drink was what I'm doing." Stuffing the remainder of the bottle into the rucksack, she left it on the bench and walked behind it to help Nico sit down before he severely injured himself. "And I thought I was the alcoholic." She muttered, flinching back and screwing up her face at the smell of the strong alcohol. "Wait," she smiled "have you been taking shots?" She made a 'not bad' face, putting a hand around his waist to help him down into the wooden seat. She was about to let go, when she felt a solid object against the soft flesh on the inside of her elbow. The unmistakable shape of a gun, hastily tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Her expression fell, and she paused for a moment, before letting go and resuming her unimpressed face. What would he want with a gun? She guessed he didn't keep it there 24/7, although now was certainly not the time to ask him why he was carrying a weapon. Did he hope to threaten her with it? The thought made her sigh, it wasn't like she'd never been threatened before, but she thought that she had some kind of basic level of trust with this guy.

"Just couldn't wait to find me, huh?" She collapsed next to him on the bench with a sigh, and took another swig out of the bottle. "You're not having this, by the way. I don't know how much you've had exactly but you aren't getting any more. Now what's a poor sod like you doing out here?" As soon as the words passed her lips, she knew it was no use. Talking to an inebriated person was like talking to a tree. Albeit a very wobbly and nonsensical tree.

[Dreambug]

Nico had known beforehand that drinking on an empty stomach would be disastrous, and he'd never handled his liqueur very well, but he didn't care. At this point when he was outside, looking like a drunk homeless person – and smelling like one, too – he'd lost all sense in him. He'd drunk half a bottle of the tequila, and had pretty much forgotten why he was there. He knew he needed to talk to Harley about something serious, but he couldn't remember what it was.
At first he ignored her words, or more like couldn't hear them above the sound of blood pumping behind his eardrums, but then he heard, “Wait, have you been taking shots?”
“So what if I have?” He spluttered defensively, then he noticed her expression. She was impressed.
He grinned at her.
She helped him to the bench, quietly prising the bottle from his fingers. He sat with his legs part slightly, and gripped the edge of the bench in front of his crotch, kicking his feet like a bored child.
“You're not having this, by the way. I don't know how much you've had exactly but you aren't getting any more. Now what's a poor sod like you doing out here?”
“Hm?” He began, then noticed later that he no longer had his tequila. Sulking, he flapped a hand in front of the bottle, like that would persuade her to let it go, and made a childish moaning noise. “Noooooooo. That's miiiiiiiiiiiiine.” He sulked, pouting at her.
What was he doing there? Oh yeah. He needed to talk to Harley.
“I need to talk to you.” He told her with a serious face, then pressed his brow against hers with a very drunk grin. He made shaky speech marks with his fingers as he repeated, “'Talk'.”
Then, with a little giggle, he slumped an arm around her and advanced towards her, eyes slightly glazed over and wafting a strong alcohol breath over her face.
Something poked his hip. He grunted and pulled away, then made a grab for whatever was making him uncomfortable. The gun in his hand might as well have been a packet of tissues, since he just shrugged at the sight of it and tossed it on the ground carelessly.
“Now...” He cooed. “Where were we?”

((*facepalm*))

[Rorah]

[[I actually physically laughed out loud for most of that post. We need to get him drunk more often.]] 

He began flapping for the bottle in her hand, but all she did was stretch her arm out further so there was no way his drunk ass could reach it. "No, no. This is mine now." She rotated her waist so she was facing away from him, and unscrewed the cap. The fumes hit her like a brick wall as she tentatively stretched down to sniff it. She recoiled, wrinkling her nose, but briefly tipped it to her mouth anyway for good measure. The hot liquid trickled down her throat in a fiery line. "That stuff is potent." Harley remarked, her voice a little hoarse. No wonder this guy was off his head, he'd drunk nearly half of it. Putting the bottle in her bag alongside the vodka, she turned to face him just in time to get a face full of drunken grin as he smooshed his head into hers. All she could smell and taste was the Tequila, and she felt the heavy weight of his arm around her shoulders. This made her sigh, and she looked straight ahead, not particularly wanting to smell his breath. She couldn't help admitting that she rather enjoyed seeing his face that close to hers, though. He'd have to do that again sometime, although preferably when he wasn't drunk.

"You know, perhaps we should 'talk'," she mimicked the imaginary quotations "another time. You're in no fit state to- hey, watch what you're doing with that!" 
Nico had removed the gun, and for a frightening second she thought that he was going to shoot her or mug her, instead he just casually discarded it on the grass as if it were nothing. 

"Dude, no." She got off the bench to retrieve it, shoving it under her tshirt and through her own waistband pressed against her back. The uncomfortable cold of the metal pressed against her skin. "You can't just go waving stuff like that around, especially in your condition." As she walked back, she checked over his shoulder to make sure that no one had seen it, and resumed her place on the bench.

[Dreambug]

((Thanks. XD And we do. It adds humour to it, and he's just a numpty. :3))

Nico watched stupidly as Harley picked up the gun from the floor with a stupid frown. Hat was she doing? Picking it up was like claiming it was hers. Then again, that's the sort of stuff you'd do on Grand Theft Auto to get ammo, so he guessed in her case it was legitimate.
He glanced at her spot on the bench, now empty, in search of his tequila. Damned bitch. Shed taken it. And it was a whole two feet away from him. Inches from arm's length. He'd have to move to get it.
Not worth it.
“You can't just go waving stuff like that around, especially in your condition.” She told him seriously, and he managed to keep his lips in a firm line. It was all he could do to keep from grinning at her. Then, in a patronising fashion, he saluted with two fingers.
“Yes ma'am.” He teased as she sat back beside him, then went back to kicking his feet agaisnt the dirty concrete.
“Tequila is a funny word.” He grinned at the thought, staring dreamily at the sky. “Tequila... Tekeeeeelah. Tequila! Teh-... Teh-keel-ah. Ta-keel-ah. Ta keel...” He giggled suddenly, nearly spluttering all over the pavement. Grinning gormlessly, he glanced at her for approval, slumping in his seat.
“You have beautiful eyes.” He told her with an expression of pure stupidity, his cheeks flushing with the alcohol running through his system.

[Rorah]

[[Damnit he's so cute when he's drunk!]]

Harley had hurried back to the bench, seeing him eyeing up her rucksack where she had hidden the alcohol. Luckily he didn't make too much of a fuss about having it back, having accepted his tequila-less fate quietly. If he had gone in there she'd have had quite some explaining to do. 
She stared blankly at him when he raised his hand in a mock salute, running her tongue over the front of her teeth impatiently. 

When he started making noises, she had just about lost it. 
"You have beautiful eyes." His comment involuntarily made her blush, and she clenched her jaw in annoyance. 
"Alright mister, let's take you home." By now, the day had worn into early evening, although the sun wasn't close to touching the horizon. 
With one hand, she grabbed his upper arm and with the other grabbed her rucksack and flung it onto her shoulder. With one heave, she managed to pull him to his feet next to her. "You're gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow, okay? This was your fault so I don't want you waking up and whining that your head hurts." She pushed his back forwards in an effort to get him moving at some kind of pace and began walking down the road, her grip on his arm released and gentle sloshing sounds coming from the bag. 
"Wait. Where do you live?"

[Dreambug]

((Right? <3 Poor thing. I'm feeling quite tired so gunna go chill then go to bed after this.))

He swore at the mention of home. Hell, where was home? He couldn't even remember. But he allowed Harley to haul him to his feet anyway, and drag him forward. Maybe she was going to take him to her place. He felt his pants swell at the thought of it.
“You're gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow, okay? This was your fault so I don't want you waking up and whining that your head hurts.”
He nodded obediently, although with the way he was going he was going to do nothing but whine about how much pain he was in the next day.
At the mention of home, he had to think very hard for a few moments. Then, with a wobbly point of a finger, he gestured vaguely to their left. “About twenty miles that way.”
For some reason he found this amusing, because he spluttered a messy laugh, missing Harley's face by inches.
“I don't fancy walking.” He murmured innocently, then rested his head in nearly a ninety-degree angle on Harley's shoulder. The motion nearly caused him to fall over. “I guess I'll just have to stay with you for the night. Hm?” He cooed, pursing his lips at her.

[Rorah]

[[Okay, night! Oh God I have my GCSE results tomorrow. Kill me.]]
 
"About twenty miles that way." Perfect. She sighed.
"Jesus, Nico. I didn't think you lived that far away." Harley pinched the bridge of her nose. She hadn't slept properly in over 48 hours, and at this point the tiredness was really starting to creep up on her. Alcohol had a funny way of doing that to you. 
She could see by the ridiculous expression on his face and by the way he was walking that he was going to be in no fit state to trudge back that far, and sure enough, his moans confirmed her suspicions. "I don't fancy walking." 


This prompted another sigh, and she looked down at him hopelessly, her eyebrows knitted together in a look of frustration. "What am I going to do with you?" It was a question that she didn't really want an answer to. There was no way she'd get him back to his house without him passing out, throwing up or getting into some kind of fight, so she was left with the only option she could see. She'd have to take him back to the travel inn. 

She felt the soft weight of his head on her shoulder, and not for the first time in the past ten minutes the thought of leaving him on the bench strolled casually through her mind. No, in this town that would be as good as killing him herself. Okay, bad joke. There was that bad taste in her mouth again, and she looked down at the inebriate and sighed again. Pitying him just a little, she allowed her head to droop to the side until it was resting on top of his. His hair smelled good. 

"I guess I'll just have to stay with you for the night. Hm?" 
She raised her head and looked off into the distance. Oh you'd love that, wouldn't you Nico. The travel inn was only about a mile and a half away, and most of that journey was away from the main parts of town. She wouldn't have to worry about being seen publicly with this mess. The thought brought a smile to her face. 
"Fine." She said sternly, brushing his head from her shoulder and walking off. "Although don't get any funny ideas. Unlike you, I don't try and take cheap shots at drunk chicks. So don't you dare think of coming onto me." And even if you do, who am I to stop you...? 

[Dreambug]

“Fine.” Nico ignored the stern tone in her voice, and for some reason found it hilariously funny. She pushed his head roughly away from hers – good thing too, he was seconds away from falling asleep on her – and he grunted, watching the world spin around a few degrees. Shrugging to himself, he stuck his tongue out playfully at her when she wasn't looking.
“Although don't get any funny ideas. Unlike you, I don't try and take cheap shots at drunk chicks. So don't you dare think of coming onto me.”
But of course, this wasn't going to work. In Nico's drunk state he was like a naughty boy. Tell him not to do something, and all he wanted to do was that very thing.
Biting his lip innocently, Nico nodded at Harley's serious expression. Then he staggered forward, forcing her to follow him. Then, with a very drunk grin he added casually, “So you're one of those 'no means yes' people, then? Nice.” He blew her a kiss, which was unfortunate since she was right next to him. His efforts mean he nearly hit her across the face with the back of his hand. “I bet you like telling me what to do, right?” He giggled, hiccuping as he did so. “Kinky. I'm up for that.” Lifting his shoulders, he strolled forward with very little grace, mocking a swagger at his new-found confidence.

[Rorah]

"So you're one of those 'no means yes' people then? Nice."
She had the dignity to turn her head to face him, although unfortunately she was met with a face full of alcohol breath which only made her grunt in dissatisfaction and carry on walking. 
She tried to ignore him, oh how she tried, but it just wasn't working. His constant swatting at her face was becoming far too much to handle. 
 “I bet you like telling me what to do, right? Kinky. I'm up for that.”
"Yes I do, but not in that way." She sighed. "And no, you're not. You're barely up for staggering five meters let alone trekking it all the way back to my room." 
She found that her pace had slowed, and she watched him swagger on ahead of her for a moment, looking him up and down. He looked a mess, but at least he had a nice ass. Allowing herself a small smile, she quickened her steps until she was walking more or less beside him. "When we get back, I'm going straight to sleep, alright? No funny business. If I have to tie you to the end of the bed to stop you from causing chaos, then I will." She stopped herself from going any further, realising how wrong that sounded.

[Dreambug]

Nico wasn't too bothered at proving Harley wrong. He knew dee down he was a mess, and he couldn't even walk in a straight line. That was the first test his father would have put him through in moments like these. Then he'd make him count to sixty and flick his forehead to see how long it'd take him to react. Although that one was usually unfair because it hurt whether Nico was drunk or not.
Harley reached his side. He was too busy watching the world spin to think about why she'd been so slow walking behind him. “When we get back, I'm going straight to sleep, alright? No funny business. If I have to tie you to the end of the bed to stop you from causing chaos, then I will.”
“Oh.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Whetever floats your boat, honey. I'll do it.”
He remained completely shameless as his pants began to swell, and just kept staggering forward, cheeks flushed with the alcohol.
After only two minutes of walking the smile had gone from his face, now replaced with a sulky frown. “Are we nearly there yet?” He moaned, even though the bench he'd been sat at was still in view.

[Rorah]

Harley ignored the rest of his comments, her jaw set in annoyance. After a few moments of suspicious silence, she reluctantly got her hopes up that he had finally quietened down. Only to be shattered when he began moaning. “Are we nearly there yet?”
"No." She managed through clenched teeth, before sighing. "Look, if you want I can call a cab or something. But you'll have to pay, I'm broke." She looked down at the pavement and rubbed her eyebrows with her thumb and forefinger. 

Her gaze wandered slightly, and she caught sight of the bulge at the front of his trousers. Great. "Jesus Christ Nico! Really?" She yelled, tilting her head to the sky, her eyes closed and her tongue in her cheek. "You know what, no. I'm not calling a cab. Your fault for wandering out all this way, asshole. Perhaps you'll walk it off." 
Without another word, she stormed past him, shaking her head. 

The cheek! With any luck he'd have sobered up just a little before they reached the travel inn. 
It took them almost an hour to walk back to her place, and by now the sun was nearly all the way under the horizon, which not only made it difficult to see, but it made her wary. This place before dark was something she didn't want to have first hand experience of. Of course, she could run. Or in the worst case, fight. But with an inebriated young man next to her, she had no chance. Shortly after the fiasco at the bench, she had put her arm around his shoulders and damn near dragged him through town. She was impatient, tired and thoroughly pissed off. Together, they managed to stagger up the stairs, and she nearly ripped the door off of it's flimsy hinges trying to get it open with one arm trying to support Nico and the other wrestling with the handle. 

"You're sleeping on the floor." She muttered, throwing him into the room - although making sure he had a soft landing on the bed - and flexing her arms, hearing her joints crack. God, he was heavy. Shutting the door behind them, she slid the bag off of her shoulders and held it in her hands for a moment. She had to be careful. If she left it somewhere where this drunkard could reach it, he would likely make a break for the alcohol, although not enjoying what he'd find. She'd like it even less. 
Thinking carefully, Harley removed the bottles from the bag, and standing on her tiptoes, she managed to get it onto the very top shelf of a storage cabinet standing in the corner of the room. Now he'd have no reason to root through her stuff. Putting the bag on the shelf down, she turned on her heel and stood looking expectantly at Nico, hands on her hips. "Well?"

[Dreambug]

It didn't take long for Harley to notice the bulge of his crotch, which Nico wore shamelessly even whilst she scolded him frustratedly. Poor girl. She wanted him so badly, she couldn't stand the sight of seeing him turned on without her assistance. Oh well. She'd have to wait, wouldn't she? She'd have to put off jumping him until they got to wherever the Hell they were going.
He grinned at her, more like a naughty toddler than an older teenager, blowing yet another unfortunate breath of alcohol all over her face.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been walking for, but frankly, he didn't care. Several stupid mutterings had left his lips on reply, like a broken record, for the entire journey, and eventually Harley had had enough of him. She threw him on the bed, which he landed on very ungraciously, and rolled around to stick his limbs in the air like a dead fly. The motion hurt his cortch, which he cradled protectively.
Poor Nico junior. Poor little guy was desperate for a bit of fun. ((He deserves a slap. O.o))
Eventually Nico got bored of rolling around, and craned his neck to see Harley stood by the door, glaring at him. She looked surprisingly hot when she was mad at him.
The words came milliseconds after the thought. “You look hot when you're angry.” He giggled at her, looking absolutely ridiculous with his messy, greasy hair, glassy eyes, dirty clothes and bulging crotch.
“Well?”
He was unsure what she was asking of him, but he was prepared to obey her whatever it was. As long as he got laid.
“Well what?” He grunted. “I can't read your mind, woman. You wanna undress me, or should I do it?”
He tried to fumble around with his shirt, but he was seeing two or three buttons instead of one. “Actually, I can't be bothered. You do it.” He mumbled, flopping his head back against the mattress and staring up at the ceiling.
“Wow...” He gasped, as if he'd discovered something astounding. “There's a stain on the ceiling that looks like a basset hound.”

[Rorah]

((Oh my god somebody slap him seriously XD I need Drunk Nico in my life. I'm still laughing)) 

“I can't read your mind, woman. You wanna undress me, or should I do it?”
She stood there in awe of what he had just suggested. She made a sound like sucking breath through bared teeth. "No." She said simply with a brief shake of the head, watching him flail around helplessly. She could almost hear the next question being asked, so she answered it for him. 
"Because you're disgusting, dirty and drunk as hell. You know, I don't find those qualities attractive in a guy." She gave him a sarcastic smile. "Go and shower or go to sleep. You reek of alcohol." 
Nevertheless, she couldn't help but glance at the ceiling to where he was gazing with distracted purpose. Huh, it did look like a dog.

[Dreambug]

“No.” Harley told him sternly, causing him to grunt and raise his head to frown at her. No, what? “Because you're disgusting, dirty and drunk as hell. You know, I don't find those qualities attractive in a guy.”
It took Nico more than socially acceptable to register this, because he'd gone back to studying the stain on the ceiling. It fascinated him more than it should have. Then, when her words finally kicked in, he sat up so fast it made his head spin for a moment, and gasped dramatically. But it didn't take long for him to smell his body odour and notice the dirt under his fingernails. She had a point.
“Go and shower or go to sleep.” She ordered. “You reek of alcohol.”
In his sober state Nico wouldn't have taken to being ordered around like a child, but this was one of those times that counted as an exception. Feeling honestly scolded, he stood up, head bowed, and moped his way to the bathroom.

((*pats head* Good boy.))

He was half way through the surprisingly hard task of undressing, when Nico suddenly found himself face-first in the toilet, vomiting everything from his stomach. He remained plastered there for over half an hour, then finally managed to get himself into the shower. He couldn't find the heart to make it cold enough to reduce the swelling between his legs, but after he'd washed himself he had calmed down considerably, although his head wasn't in the right place. He was still thinking about how hot Harley was, and how dog-like the stain on the ceiling had been.
He brushed his teeth using the only tooth brush he could find, which was probably Harley's, and rid himself of he horrible acidic taste on the back of his throat, and gulped down a few cups of water before he waddled back into the bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxers.
He still had no shame about this, and as attractive as his toned stomach was, he still looked ridiculous with his wet, spikey hair and half-dead look on his face.
He had no consideration for whether Harley was in bed, he didn't even check to see if it was empty, just flopped face-first into the mattress.
“Mmm, fake roses...” He murmured, grinning happily as he took a whiff of the clean bedsheets, and scrunched up the entire duvet, wrapping his body protectively around it.

[Rorah]

Harley watched him retreat into the bathroom with a thoroughly unimpressed expression, and then walked the width of the room to go and sit on the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, the bottles caught her attention, and almost as if they were calling to her, she reluctantly shifted her weight to her feet and trudged over to retrieve the vodka. No way was she going near that tequila tonight. Perhaps tomorrow. 
Instead of going back to the bed, she dragged her tired feet over to an empty wall, and with her back to it, she slid down until she was in a vague sitting position, with her knees slightly drawn up. It felt more comfortable.

Unscrewing the cap, she tossed it aside and began chugging, only stopping when the bottle was half empty. If she was going to do anything tonight, she refused to do it with a clear head. Out of the silence came the pitiful sounds of Nico emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. She thought about going in and comforting him, although he'd most likely take it the wrong way and she really didn't want to walk in on him if he didn't have any clothes on. Emptying some more alcohol down her throat, she began to feel the familiar sensation of light headedness. In reality she hadn't consumed that much, if it was expensive vodka she'd have been as drunk after consuming only half of what she had already had. Once again she found herself eyeing up the second bottle on the shelf, but shook her head. One was enough. The sound of the shower notified her that Nico had managed to unstick himself from the toilet, and by the time she heard the shower stop and the door unlock, the empty vodka bottle was lying on the ground beside her. 
How long had Nico been in there for? Time had lost most of it's meaning now, anyway. Harley had stooped down to his level, and was now quite pleasantly drunk. 

She barely saw him stagger through her blurry field of vision in his underwear, just heard the sounds of the bed bending to compensate for his weight as he nose dived straight into the sheets. 
After a few attempts, she managed to lever herself to her feet, and with a wince and a rub of the back of her head, she went and sat on the end of the bed.

((Okay well she has an obvious alcoholism problem, and they are clearly both as bad as eachother. *nods* ))

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