Post by Roan on Aug 30, 2009 12:54:57 GMT -5
OOC: First post Sylph
Roan had been through a lot in her days. When she had first been a student she had made enemies of nearly ever powerful creature to walk the grounds. There were demons who loved to pump her full of drugs or freeze her to death. There was a lycan that she was pummeled by on a regular basis, though most of the time by her own hand. Upon coming to Firefox she had made enemies with some of the strongest wizards of their time and had lived through numerous encounters with them, even Scorpius himself during the War. She had been physically abused again and again, along with the mental abuse that came with it. Which is why it surprised her that this latest wound cut so deep.
Maybe it was because it was accompanied by the recent severing of ties from the lycan pack. But after Unknown’s attack at her home she found herself deeper down her hole. It was somewhere she hadn’t visited in years.
The woman was out by the Lake’s edge on a clear night. Cold twinges to the air marked the ending of summer and the coming of fall in the coming days, something that Roan would be regretting as a creature of both fire and nature. She sat on a smooth rock near the water’s edge, watching it lap up against the shore and reflect the moon above. Though, her eyes were unfocused and she wasn’t really watching it.
In her hand was a bottle of firewhisky, the contents sloshing inside. Roan took another large gulp of it, feeling the hot liquid run down her throat and warm her body as it did. One empty bottle was already sitting below the rock, and the one in her hand was half empty. There were a few fuller bottles sitting around as well. There was a negative to being a lycan: her body flushed things out quicker and so to get drunk she had to drink more and keep at it. Which was fine for Roan that evening, she was drinking for the total buzzing numb that came from the alcohol.
It wasn’t drinking in celebration or just to have some fun. She wanted to detatch. Another gulp ran down her throat, the hand that held the bottle wobbled slightly when she brought it back down. With a sigh she stood up from her rock and walked towards the water’s edge with an obvious stumble. All lycan grace was gone, replaced with drunk clumsiness.
Her feet were bare as she tread over the rocks, nearly falling over a couple of times and holding the bottle of firewhisky gingerly. To a bystander even standing far away they’d know she was drunk just from her movements. The woman turned slightly glassly hazel eyes up towards the clear summer sky, talking in a very slurred voice. “What do you have for me now? What’s next? A meteor gonna plow me down? Earth gonna swallow me up? Bring it!” The lycaness lost her balance, slipping on the wet rocks and falling down sprawling on her back, luckily with the bottle unharmed. Roan laughed, not even knowing where it was coming from, only that that weird giddy sensation told her to.
Roan had been through a lot in her days. When she had first been a student she had made enemies of nearly ever powerful creature to walk the grounds. There were demons who loved to pump her full of drugs or freeze her to death. There was a lycan that she was pummeled by on a regular basis, though most of the time by her own hand. Upon coming to Firefox she had made enemies with some of the strongest wizards of their time and had lived through numerous encounters with them, even Scorpius himself during the War. She had been physically abused again and again, along with the mental abuse that came with it. Which is why it surprised her that this latest wound cut so deep.
Maybe it was because it was accompanied by the recent severing of ties from the lycan pack. But after Unknown’s attack at her home she found herself deeper down her hole. It was somewhere she hadn’t visited in years.
The woman was out by the Lake’s edge on a clear night. Cold twinges to the air marked the ending of summer and the coming of fall in the coming days, something that Roan would be regretting as a creature of both fire and nature. She sat on a smooth rock near the water’s edge, watching it lap up against the shore and reflect the moon above. Though, her eyes were unfocused and she wasn’t really watching it.
In her hand was a bottle of firewhisky, the contents sloshing inside. Roan took another large gulp of it, feeling the hot liquid run down her throat and warm her body as it did. One empty bottle was already sitting below the rock, and the one in her hand was half empty. There were a few fuller bottles sitting around as well. There was a negative to being a lycan: her body flushed things out quicker and so to get drunk she had to drink more and keep at it. Which was fine for Roan that evening, she was drinking for the total buzzing numb that came from the alcohol.
It wasn’t drinking in celebration or just to have some fun. She wanted to detatch. Another gulp ran down her throat, the hand that held the bottle wobbled slightly when she brought it back down. With a sigh she stood up from her rock and walked towards the water’s edge with an obvious stumble. All lycan grace was gone, replaced with drunk clumsiness.
Her feet were bare as she tread over the rocks, nearly falling over a couple of times and holding the bottle of firewhisky gingerly. To a bystander even standing far away they’d know she was drunk just from her movements. The woman turned slightly glassly hazel eyes up towards the clear summer sky, talking in a very slurred voice. “What do you have for me now? What’s next? A meteor gonna plow me down? Earth gonna swallow me up? Bring it!” The lycaness lost her balance, slipping on the wet rocks and falling down sprawling on her back, luckily with the bottle unharmed. Roan laughed, not even knowing where it was coming from, only that that weird giddy sensation told her to.