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Post by babby on Jan 1, 2011 18:37:20 GMT -5
He quickly drained his next glass. He'd been raised on that just as much as he had mother's milk. Maybe more, even. "That's the spirit~" He laughed. Although he was a bit disappointed. She was too smart for his pills. At least she'd be dead drunk by the end. But so would he.
Once it was gone, he winked at her. "Gotta make it convincing, honey," and sprung her from her seat, enveloping her in a kiss while he moved into the crowd. Once they were behind the barrier of dancers, he released her. "Can't say I'm sorry about that. I guess I should have warned you."
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Post by Professor Plum on Jan 1, 2011 18:56:33 GMT -5
She'd barely had time to finish her last glass before being whisked away. She kissed him back, mind in a haze. If her sober self could see her right now, she'd be totally horrified.
But then, the point of being drunk was not to have inhibitions. So she threw them out the window.
When he set her down, she giggled and slurred, "Kissing a lady without permission is a mortal offense. Off with your head~"
She was off in Wonderland, indeed.
((GUH, phone's about to die, bbl <:\))
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Post by babby on Jan 1, 2011 19:09:28 GMT -5
She clearly didn't hear anything he'd said. Great. He knew drunk women like the back of his hand.
"Oh, really now?" He grinned, holding her hand slightly as he got closer to the back door. "Come arrest this outlaw then, before I can strike again...!" How true that was. Pushing the door open with his back, he continued to gently pull her along (it would be a real shame if she got lost along the way. He had had it happen before.
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Post by Professor Plum on Jan 1, 2011 22:57:54 GMT -5
((FINALLY. ELECTRICITY.))
Stumbling along on her thin heels, she nearly tripped over the door frame, but managed not to fall over completely. It'd been a while since she'd been this hammered. Several red flags had gone up in her head by now, but they couldn't have been more lost in the thick fog clouding her common sense.
"I di-didn't bring any handcuffs," she hiccuped lightly, laughing and humming, "Ja, jag vill leva jag vill dö~"
It was probably good that she had a passable singing voice because Swedes are the most beautiful singers ever, like whoa, because it was common in her house to sing while drunk. A lot. And she did. A lot.
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Post by babby on Jan 1, 2011 23:14:03 GMT -5
She was really getting annoying. Well, at least the Tesla dorms weren't far away. What a great idea, put the school with the poor and downtrodden right next to the place with all the drugs and alcohol. It made his life easier.
"Don't worry about it, beautiful." He grabbed her backside as he was guiding her forward, then waved to the passersby on the street. "I'm just taking her home," He explained amiably, then turned back to her. "There's not much farther to go, if you can go faster, you get a prize."
Frankly, she should have been grateful he was being this nice to her. She was high-class, after all.
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Post by Professor Plum on Jan 1, 2011 23:51:39 GMT -5
Also waving to their fellow pedestrians in a drunken stupor, she caroled an odd conglomeration of Swedish Disney dubs, switching from song to song whenever she began to forget the lyrics.
"Sorry, can't go any faster," she cut into her singing to explain. Even if she wanted to speed things up, it was impossible, what with the combination of her shoes and current lack of coordination. Not to mention she was starting to feel a bit sick. The happiness ebbing from her voice, she mumbled incoherently, "Stanna världen, jag vill kliva av..."
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Post by babby on Jan 2, 2011 0:01:01 GMT -5
This was getting to the point where it might not be worth it, his drunk mind told him.
Maybe he didn't have to make it to his dorm. Stopping at the next alley, he pulled her in, and guided her against a brick wall. He may as well get something for putting up with her that long.
Silencing her singing with a sloppy yet hungry kiss, his hands went immediately under her shirt. Ah, now he felt like he was back at home again. Was it the nostalgia or the potential fuck that his inebriated mind enjoyed more?
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Post by Professor Plum on Jan 2, 2011 0:20:11 GMT -5
At last, sirens went off in her mind that she couldn't possibly ignore. She stopped feeling like she was having fun, and slowly became aware that she was very much alone and in danger.
"Nej... Stanna..." She mumbled, turning her face away, "Leave me alone..."
It took a second of groping in the air, but she found his shoulders and tried to push him away. It was a feeble attempt, though. She was considerably smaller, and weaker, and less in control of her movements while under the influence. It would have been nice if she had a weapon of some sort (like an IKEA lamp), but as it was, all she'd brought with her was a phone and some money.
The fact that she couldn't think to take out her phone and try to call for help said something about her current state of mind.
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Post by babby on Jan 2, 2011 0:35:01 GMT -5
As he continued to smother her in unwanted kisses whether her lips were there or not, it was clear he was not only drunk.
"I won't take up much of your time..." He breathed into her ear, his hands finding the edges of her underwear from under her skirt. "Besides... You're almost in Wonderland, Alice..." What a funny joke.
Her trying to push him away barely moved him at all. As long as he was getting her, she could out her hands anywhere she wanted.
One might say the man had no conscience. But it was there, buried somewhere under the years of drug abuse, of female abuse, of poverty. The rich got their kicks by taking advantage of a drunk woman and then calling her a whore. The only difference was that poor people like him never got around to the last part without getting caught. But he wasn't going to get caught this time.
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Post by Professor Plum on Jan 2, 2011 0:59:44 GMT -5
Breath hitching, her body betrayed her, feeling pleasure from something she consciously did not want. "Stop...!" She gasped, but didn't sound very convincing, even to herself. Putting her hands over his, she tried to push them away, not realizing she was only assisting in the removal of her own underwear.
It was so unfair. All she wanted was to not have to be uptight for a while, and this was what she got. The total opposite.
"I want to go home," she began to cry, trying again--and just as ineffectively--to push him off. This wasn't Wonderland, it was a nightmare. Wonderland was supposed to be a place with beautiful and lush plants that talked and sang, not some dingy alley with a dodgy drunk guy raping her.
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Post by babby on Jan 2, 2011 1:17:03 GMT -5
As she pushed his hands away, he released his grip on her undergarments, letting them slide down her legs.
He didn't particularly like it when women guilt tripped him like that. But he could tell from her voice that she wasn't exactly trying her hardest to get him away. Trying his best to ignore her weeping, he moved her hands to his belt. "Why don't you want to have any fun, huh?" He kissed her neck. "Don't make me feel like the bad guy... You brought this on yourself."
He didnt understand. Where he was from, women were usually giggling by then, accepting their fate and lying to themselves that it was consensual and he was a good man. But she wasn't raising his self esteem at all.
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Post by Professor Plum on Jan 2, 2011 1:49:40 GMT -5
Makeup running down her face from her tears, she tried to lean over to pull her panties back up, but nearly fell over. Wobbling to reclaim her balance, she had to brace herself against the wall to keep from collapsing on him.
"I was having fun," she sobbed. Not anymore. After this, she likely would not ever go out drinking again. ...At least, not alone. She couldn't just give it up completely; partying was sadly one of the only things she had to look forward to. What was even sadder was that, had he not stopped in the alley, she really might have ended up consensually having sex with him.
As it was, she was scared and confused, and only wanted to go back to her warm, clean room. "Let me go," she pleaded, voice choked, "I just want to sleep..."
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Post by babby on Jan 2, 2011 1:59:28 GMT -5
"..." Slowly he stepped back. Crying was one of his biggest turnoffs. He lived near Ukraine. He'd seen alot of crying.
If he was told that he had tried to rape a girl, he would have vehemently denied it. He was just drunk, and wanted company, and was a little bit strung out on cocaine. He didn't respect women, but he was hesitant to be called a rapist.
"Fine." He conceded. "Go. See if I stop you." He wouldn't; he was too drunk to chase after a girl. And ugh, that crying. "You have become sufficiently unattractive to me." one last blow to her self esteem. That's what he should have started with, not flowery Romanian. Too late to rectify mistakes now.
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Post by Professor Plum on Jan 2, 2011 3:47:48 GMT -5
Leaning against the wall, she snatched her panties with one hand and hastily yanked them up. Still keeping her gaze trained on him fearfully, she nearly tripped over her own feet to get away. Half of her was more hurt by his last comment than he could have ever guessed (she had self-esteem issues to begin with), but the other half--the drunker half--didn't even register it.
She could barely even walk on her own, but she managed to stumble away, using the buildings adjacent to the sidewalk as support, only vaguely aware of where she was going.
Home...how did she get back home? The dorm was her home now... So... She could call Alex, but her roommate was probably already asleep by now. Alice didn't have the audacity, even while inebriated, to force her friend to get out of bed and come into town to save her drunken ass. She couldn't even complain on a subway if someone was standing on her foot, so to inconvenience someone else over something she'd basically gotten herself into... Nope, she would have to find another way.
Sitting down unsteadily on the curb, she decided to wait until a taxi came by (though she couldn't quite remember if taxis even operated here), wiping her eyes and hiccupping in the meantime. Normally, she would have just put on a steely face, but this was how she would have actually felt, drunk or sober.
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Post by babby on Jan 2, 2011 8:02:56 GMT -5
More out of self preservation (what if a patrolling cop caught her sitting and crying out there) than charity, he tapped her with his foot as he walked past, not even stopping. "I'm going to the school. If you are, you can follow behind me."
She didn't need to worry about his intentions anymore. She cried. And to his eyes, a beautiful woman who cries may as well be a dog. Harsh,yes, but anyone living next to Ukraine would have to agree. Except his brother. But he was a weird exception.
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