[[Hayley Kelly continued from Sprint For The Finish Line]]
[[OOC: Permission to make a new topic here was obtained and all that.]]
It was not supposed to be like this. Hayley and Ema were definitely not supposed to have ended up back in the fucking sand breathing in goddamn saltwater with their guns probably getting rusty from the sea air however that works, sea air rusts things, yeah? whatever even. They were supposed to be unconscious on some gloriously huge beds or maybe in like...a jacuzzi or whatever it is rich people have nowadays. In the mansion, was the general idea, that was the plan, but there was that whole Liz Polanski thing again.
That fucking bitch ruins everything. First she gets her collar off before me and now she practically chases me out of my motherfucking mansion, that's just like blatant racism right there.
Or something.
Maybe she was exaggerating just a little, given that there was no way Liz had ever been aware that she and Ema had been nearby. They'd headed straight off to the mansion from the tunnels, and Hayley for her part was super hype about the whole thing, to the point where she managed to not smoke another cigarette or have another nervous breakdown or shoot anyone else in the head or do any of that Survival of the Fittest variety shit that she'd been getting so accustomed to. It was a drama free walk, and the sunlight dimmed with no fanfare, and Hayley was wide awake, somehow, too excited to be tired. She wanted to go swimming, or something, she wasn't sure what she wanted, really, but whatever, hyperactivity is hyperactivity. At any rate it was getting dark and Hayley could see the mansion in the near distance and she was about to sprint to the goddamn door when
it opened and out came Liz fucking Polanski.
OF COURSE.
She wasn't alone, in fact she was being carried, carried by some boy whose name escaped her mind at the moment. But she was unmistakably herself, from the bandages around her neck- so she really DID do it? holy shitfuck, this girl pulled some major shit off -to her general gothy gothness. They were quite close, in fact it was a miracle (and bushes) that kept them out of notice, and a long moment passed where Hayley seriously considered popping a cap in the girl's head, because if there was one person who Hayley would feel absolutely no guilt about killing (because guilt was definitely her problem), it was Charlene Norris Liz Polanski.
She had this feeling that the same thought was passing through Ema's mind. It was a great feeling, it told her she wasn't a horrible person. Feelings like that got rarer by the day.
But the girl had a fucking squadron with her. Besides the boy carrying her, there was another girl and two boys, and she could see they were armed. One of the boys, at least, the redhead, he had a gun- a weird fucking gun but hell, if Ema's ray gun is a thing I'm not gonna judge anyone else's deadly weapon, especially not when they're likely to be pointed at me. It was a tough call, and it sucked, because this could be so easy, but she wasn't going to risk being Dead Girl Number Whatever-The-Fuck-They-Were-On-Now when they could oh so easily slip away into the darkness.
For a long moment, Hayley wanted to stay, and wait. They seemed like they were leaving, and Hayley wanted her goddamn mansion with the goddamn jacuzzi that she'd just made up but what kind of mansion doesn't have a jacuzzi, anyway? What the fuck is taking them so long? Liz had disappeared with the boy, but the other three were still there, with some girl, who was- what was it, blocking the entrance? Come the fuck on...
An irritated Hayley Kelly gave Ema an exasperated look and beckoned Ema back off into the darkness. If these assholes were gonna take her spot, she was just gonna have to spend the night somewhere else. Even with both of them locked and loaded that is exceptionally cliche, I am a dork Hayley didn't quite trust that they'd be able to pick all four off unscathed.
Safer out somewhere else. She hoped so, anyway.
And that's how they found themselves on the fucking beach, and she didn't realize exactly where she was until she tripped right over the still headless (no shit it's still headless) body of James goddamn Mulzet.
Fucking...FUCK.
She didn't fall. Thank God or Buddha or whoever for that shit, cause if she had she would've gone face first in a stagnant blood puddle, which would have fucked up her shirt majorly, not that she would've minded that much cause she actually hated Placebwhat are you even thinking about, HOW THE FUCK DID WE GET BACK HERE. THIS IS THAT KID YOU KILLED THAT ONE TIME. Remember? James Mulzet? Shit getting real? Being heroic like a motherfucker? Yeah.
This is some day three shit right here.
Hoping Ema would tactfully ignore the fact that she was at present graceful as a really-not-graceful-thing, Hayley stepped on over the body and yes, this was definitely the beach. It was colder than the rest of the island and everything smelled like salt and brine and blech. Whatever. It's one night. I can do one night.
"Feels like it's been forever, yeah?" she said quietly, looking at Ema. "It's only been, what, four days? And everything's different now."
She decided not to think about exactly what had happened the last time she'd been here. The last time she'd been here, Kyle Portman had been walking and breathing and shirtless, but she was going to think as little as possible about any of that, because she didn't quite hate herself.
Not just yet.
The Guilty Ones
Night 6 ---> Day 7 [[Private, CONTENT WARNING'D]]
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
The Guilty Ones
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
[Sprint for the Finish Line --> Ema Ryan]
Everything was going to be fine, just bloody fine. For the night, at least. Because there definitely wouldn't be anyone at the Mansion, that would be absurd. Why would anyone else want to be relatively warm, and comfortable on a real bed under real sheets at night? Anyone that wasn't her or Hayley, at least.
Yeah no, this mindless optimism shit just isn't going to work.
Either way, even if there was anyone there, they could share. And if they didn't want to share? The two of them had guns, they could be convinced otherwise. If they really didn't want to? Return to step 4, guns, use thereof. Use that Ema could somehow think about in such a detached, clinical manner. Shoot person, bullet hits, person is no longer a problem. Just don't dwell on the whole life ending part, don't start to think about all the experiences they'll never have, all the ones they had that were for nothing, don't think about the pain or the ethics of it all. It's just problem solving. Some folks are lucky, some folks ain't. Thanks, Mr. Pink.
And, in spite of all the circumstances conspiring to make it otherwise, the walk really was just fine. Hayley didn't even reach for her umpteenth cigarette, so the welcome sense of calm wasn't just surrounding Ema. The sun sank slowly into the horizon in front of them, assuring Ema they were still heading westward, and the daylight faded to the muted shades of orange that she had always loved about the end of a day. Like leaves in Autumn, all year around. The beautiful sight made Ema feel a little lethargic, and the diminished brightness made her comfortable to finally lower her hood. As she was looking back up from doing so, the Mansion, the Holy Grail of comfortable nights, loomed in the distance, no more than a few hundred meters away. Finally.
Hayley made a run for the door, clearly excited. Ema felt like saying something, pointing out that sprinting in blindly probably wasn't safe. It wasn't necessary; the door opened and spoke up on her behalf and holy crap Benny brought everyone.
Okay stop thinking in movie quotes already. The CoD stuff was bad enough as it is.
Putting the concern about her unoriginal lines of thought that afternoon aside, Ema beckoned Hayley back to the safety of the darkness. There were a lot of them, she didn't care to count, given the distance and relative darkness, but a lot. And at least two were armed, the rest probably had something hidden anyway. The Vektor came out of Ema's inside pocket, almost subconsciously, and the safety came off. Just in case. With any luck as if I actually have any of that they'll just go.
And they seemed to be, but the group took its sweet time. Carrying and limping all over the place. Hayley seemed to agree that it wasn't worth the wait, and headed back the way they'd come, beckoning her to come along. As if she was planning on sticking around alone. Back east, southeast probably, skirting the edge of the trees for the best compromise of safety and visibility. The journey was oddly nostalgic. Again. The second leg of yesterday's reminiscence, the other half of the journey from the ex-forest down to the south coast.
---
The trip didn't take as long, obviously, starting a hell of a lot closer and with a figurative tonne less weight on her shoulders. How she'd even managed to carry all that luggage around for the first few days was beyond Ema, even now. It wasn't worth dwelling on, anyway. What was worth paying attention to was the renewed stream of memories upon arriving at the beach - in particular, the little patch of grass and trees just before the sand, where they'd slept a few nights nights? Feels like weeks ago, with Kyle still present and alive. In a way, Ema missed him. He'd been a little taciturn, but he was a nice enou-- oh god that's what else happened here. James Mulzet, a name not affected by Ema's poor memory. Decapitated by Hayley, mere minutes after she'd been revealed to have already killed Steve Barnes the same way, the day before. Yeah, that morning was going to stick around in Ema's memory for a while.
Eventually, Hayley spoke up, breaking the silence.
"Feels like it's been forever, yeah?"
Read my mind, why don't you...
"It's only been, what, four days? And everything's different now."
Yeah, I've got a gun, Kyle's dead, and we're pretty chill about the whole Battle Royale with Cheese thing we've got going down.
Of course, she didn't say either of those things. The best Ema could actually manage was "Yeah. Things change fast, huh?". Eloquence still eluded her, for the most part. Part of the reason for that, a large part, was the next set of memories. The nice ones, from before that morning of drama and blood and killing and throwing up and general disarray. Meeting up with Hayley and Kyle for the first time, being able to truly relax, not not-sleeping under a bridge hearing random Morrissey lyrics in her head, cuddling under a blanket and sleeping warm. And the inevitable progression from there, the waking up to a faceful of alluring flesh, the moving on to the Hut that Hayley had started out in. The brief moments alone. What she didn't manage to finish doing in those moments.
Damn, and that was what, two or three days ago?
Added to the time before coming to the Island itself, that made over a week for Ema, a week without, to use her own charming terms, working off any stress. And plenty of stress had been built up, over the holiday from hell, both the figurative kind and the holy-shit-everything-trying-to-kill-you kind. Sneaking off alone after Hayley fell asleep was an option, but for reasons unknown, something else occurred to her.
Well, I got lucky with the limping Mafia earlier... here goes nothing.
"Hey... do you have anything left in that flask? I could use something to take the edge off this whole stupid week."
Everything was going to be fine, just bloody fine. For the night, at least. Because there definitely wouldn't be anyone at the Mansion, that would be absurd. Why would anyone else want to be relatively warm, and comfortable on a real bed under real sheets at night? Anyone that wasn't her or Hayley, at least.
Yeah no, this mindless optimism shit just isn't going to work.
Either way, even if there was anyone there, they could share. And if they didn't want to share? The two of them had guns, they could be convinced otherwise. If they really didn't want to? Return to step 4, guns, use thereof. Use that Ema could somehow think about in such a detached, clinical manner. Shoot person, bullet hits, person is no longer a problem. Just don't dwell on the whole life ending part, don't start to think about all the experiences they'll never have, all the ones they had that were for nothing, don't think about the pain or the ethics of it all. It's just problem solving. Some folks are lucky, some folks ain't. Thanks, Mr. Pink.
And, in spite of all the circumstances conspiring to make it otherwise, the walk really was just fine. Hayley didn't even reach for her umpteenth cigarette, so the welcome sense of calm wasn't just surrounding Ema. The sun sank slowly into the horizon in front of them, assuring Ema they were still heading westward, and the daylight faded to the muted shades of orange that she had always loved about the end of a day. Like leaves in Autumn, all year around. The beautiful sight made Ema feel a little lethargic, and the diminished brightness made her comfortable to finally lower her hood. As she was looking back up from doing so, the Mansion, the Holy Grail of comfortable nights, loomed in the distance, no more than a few hundred meters away. Finally.
Hayley made a run for the door, clearly excited. Ema felt like saying something, pointing out that sprinting in blindly probably wasn't safe. It wasn't necessary; the door opened and spoke up on her behalf and holy crap Benny brought everyone.
Okay stop thinking in movie quotes already. The CoD stuff was bad enough as it is.
Putting the concern about her unoriginal lines of thought that afternoon aside, Ema beckoned Hayley back to the safety of the darkness. There were a lot of them, she didn't care to count, given the distance and relative darkness, but a lot. And at least two were armed, the rest probably had something hidden anyway. The Vektor came out of Ema's inside pocket, almost subconsciously, and the safety came off. Just in case. With any luck as if I actually have any of that they'll just go.
And they seemed to be, but the group took its sweet time. Carrying and limping all over the place. Hayley seemed to agree that it wasn't worth the wait, and headed back the way they'd come, beckoning her to come along. As if she was planning on sticking around alone. Back east, southeast probably, skirting the edge of the trees for the best compromise of safety and visibility. The journey was oddly nostalgic. Again. The second leg of yesterday's reminiscence, the other half of the journey from the ex-forest down to the south coast.
---
The trip didn't take as long, obviously, starting a hell of a lot closer and with a figurative tonne less weight on her shoulders. How she'd even managed to carry all that luggage around for the first few days was beyond Ema, even now. It wasn't worth dwelling on, anyway. What was worth paying attention to was the renewed stream of memories upon arriving at the beach - in particular, the little patch of grass and trees just before the sand, where they'd slept a few nights nights? Feels like weeks ago, with Kyle still present and alive. In a way, Ema missed him. He'd been a little taciturn, but he was a nice enou-- oh god that's what else happened here. James Mulzet, a name not affected by Ema's poor memory. Decapitated by Hayley, mere minutes after she'd been revealed to have already killed Steve Barnes the same way, the day before. Yeah, that morning was going to stick around in Ema's memory for a while.
Eventually, Hayley spoke up, breaking the silence.
"Feels like it's been forever, yeah?"
Read my mind, why don't you...
"It's only been, what, four days? And everything's different now."
Yeah, I've got a gun, Kyle's dead, and we're pretty chill about the whole Battle Royale with Cheese thing we've got going down.
Of course, she didn't say either of those things. The best Ema could actually manage was "Yeah. Things change fast, huh?". Eloquence still eluded her, for the most part. Part of the reason for that, a large part, was the next set of memories. The nice ones, from before that morning of drama and blood and killing and throwing up and general disarray. Meeting up with Hayley and Kyle for the first time, being able to truly relax, not not-sleeping under a bridge hearing random Morrissey lyrics in her head, cuddling under a blanket and sleeping warm. And the inevitable progression from there, the waking up to a faceful of alluring flesh, the moving on to the Hut that Hayley had started out in. The brief moments alone. What she didn't manage to finish doing in those moments.
Damn, and that was what, two or three days ago?
Added to the time before coming to the Island itself, that made over a week for Ema, a week without, to use her own charming terms, working off any stress. And plenty of stress had been built up, over the holiday from hell, both the figurative kind and the holy-shit-everything-trying-to-kill-you kind. Sneaking off alone after Hayley fell asleep was an option, but for reasons unknown, something else occurred to her.
Well, I got lucky with the limping Mafia earlier... here goes nothing.
"Hey... do you have anything left in that flask? I could use something to take the edge off this whole stupid week."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Chib. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Hollyquin†
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"Yeah. Things change fast, huh?"
Super eloquent, Ema Ryan. It wasn't like Hayley blamed her, given the complexity of the situation, and how late it was getting, and how neither of them were particularly good at putting words together in ways that made sense for normal humans. She couldn't help but wonder exactly how late it was, considering the sun had only just finished sinking completely out of sight- the dark sky bleaching the sand white in a way that was totally giving her flashbacks that she was going to ignore. It's summer, so it could be 9 already...what time zone are we even in? It's definitely summer so we're, like, in the same hemisphere at least. That's...comforting? She wrinkled her nose. She hadn't put much thought into where or when she was, she realized. Probably because she'd been distracted by this whole murder thing.
Yep. Go on and accentuate the positive, girly.
She kicked off her sneakers and pulled her socks off behind them, well aware that all she was going to succeed in by wearing them now was filling them with sand, guaranteeing her last days on earth would be itchy as hell. Her toes dug through the sand, that sensation being maybe the one thing she liked about beaches, and let her daypack drop from her shoulder. Her gun, her Vera- was she still holding it? She had hardly noticed; at this point it just seemed to belong in her hand. She didn't let go of it, though she noted the safety was still off (smooth, Hayley, I guarantee you were this close to shooting yourself in the foot) and clicked it on.
She looked back at Ema, trying to think of something not lame to say.
"Hey... do you have anything left in that flask? I could use something to take the edge off this whole stupid week."
...
There was an extended pause as Hayley processed this question.
And there was an obvious change in her expression when the meaning finally got through to her.
HOW DID I EVEN FUCKING FORGET?! I have alcohol I HAVE ALCOHOL. LIFE HAS MEANING. I love everything. This is the greatest thing that has ever happened in anyone's life ever. Ever. Deadass. Like a rescue helicopter could show up and I could not be happier HOW DID EMA REMEMBER THIS AND I FORGOT I don't even know holy fuck I have vodka I HAVE VODKA we have vodka, have I ever drank with Ema I don't think I have if we drank when we were dating we probably would have fucFOCUS HAYLEY THERE IS ALCOHOL IN YOUR BAG AND YOU ARE NOT DRINKING IT AND THIS IS BLASPHEMOUS.
She realized she was grinning like an idiot, which was probably super attractive. She shrunk her smile to the non-freakish kind.
Have I drank any of it...? Yeah, I had like, a sip. Last time I was here, actually. This is so perfectly circular. 'Cept last time I was here I was trying to get laid-
There was definitely a logical completion of that thought, and it was hanging on the tip of Hayley's tongue? brain? brain-tongue?, but...but. No. Bad Hayley. Be good and get fucked up with your bestie, yeah?
You have a unique definition of good.
No one is asking for your advice.
"Yeah. Yeah, I've definitely got some left, I mean, I've barely had any, I'd totally forgotten I had any until now, really-"
She was babbling. So not cute. She laughed almost sheepishly as she cut herself off, scratching her head. Embarrassed. Why the fuck was she embarrassed? Ema'd seen her kill people, she could probably deal with the fact that she was a fucking idiot. She bent over to open her bag (I am probably flashing cameras right now, whose idea was it to wear a miniskirt on Survival of the Fittest? Mine? Oh right, I'm retarded) and released her death grip on Vera, so cheered was she by the prospect of being piss drunk on a beach. Tucking the gun into her bag, she dug out the item in question- a decently sized silver flask with the words "hot mess" emblazoned oh-so-classily is that a word even on the front. She sloshed it around a bit. Yep, definitely mostly full.
Dear God or Buddha or maybe Satan in this case: you are fucking awesome, bro. Full score.
"Gotcha. You like vodka, yeah?"
How'd she known that? They'd never drank together except for that party. The one where you fucked that sexy hipster boy who you never saw again. And then Ema saw you. And then you broke up. You know, that one time.
Ow. Stupidity burns like fire.
She decided not to give Ema a chance to dwell on that because you will really miss your chance if you do and instead opened the flask. With a cheery "bottom's up!" she took a long gulp, and, concealing the burning in her throat with effort (why did I not bring cranberry juice), she handed the flask over to Ema.
"Your turn."
Super eloquent, Ema Ryan. It wasn't like Hayley blamed her, given the complexity of the situation, and how late it was getting, and how neither of them were particularly good at putting words together in ways that made sense for normal humans. She couldn't help but wonder exactly how late it was, considering the sun had only just finished sinking completely out of sight- the dark sky bleaching the sand white in a way that was totally giving her flashbacks that she was going to ignore. It's summer, so it could be 9 already...what time zone are we even in? It's definitely summer so we're, like, in the same hemisphere at least. That's...comforting? She wrinkled her nose. She hadn't put much thought into where or when she was, she realized. Probably because she'd been distracted by this whole murder thing.
Yep. Go on and accentuate the positive, girly.
She kicked off her sneakers and pulled her socks off behind them, well aware that all she was going to succeed in by wearing them now was filling them with sand, guaranteeing her last days on earth would be itchy as hell. Her toes dug through the sand, that sensation being maybe the one thing she liked about beaches, and let her daypack drop from her shoulder. Her gun, her Vera- was she still holding it? She had hardly noticed; at this point it just seemed to belong in her hand. She didn't let go of it, though she noted the safety was still off (smooth, Hayley, I guarantee you were this close to shooting yourself in the foot) and clicked it on.
She looked back at Ema, trying to think of something not lame to say.
"Hey... do you have anything left in that flask? I could use something to take the edge off this whole stupid week."
...
There was an extended pause as Hayley processed this question.
And there was an obvious change in her expression when the meaning finally got through to her.
HOW DID I EVEN FUCKING FORGET?! I have alcohol I HAVE ALCOHOL. LIFE HAS MEANING. I love everything. This is the greatest thing that has ever happened in anyone's life ever. Ever. Deadass. Like a rescue helicopter could show up and I could not be happier HOW DID EMA REMEMBER THIS AND I FORGOT I don't even know holy fuck I have vodka I HAVE VODKA we have vodka, have I ever drank with Ema I don't think I have if we drank when we were dating we probably would have fucFOCUS HAYLEY THERE IS ALCOHOL IN YOUR BAG AND YOU ARE NOT DRINKING IT AND THIS IS BLASPHEMOUS.
She realized she was grinning like an idiot, which was probably super attractive. She shrunk her smile to the non-freakish kind.
Have I drank any of it...? Yeah, I had like, a sip. Last time I was here, actually. This is so perfectly circular. 'Cept last time I was here I was trying to get laid-
There was definitely a logical completion of that thought, and it was hanging on the tip of Hayley's tongue? brain? brain-tongue?, but...but. No. Bad Hayley. Be good and get fucked up with your bestie, yeah?
You have a unique definition of good.
No one is asking for your advice.
"Yeah. Yeah, I've definitely got some left, I mean, I've barely had any, I'd totally forgotten I had any until now, really-"
She was babbling. So not cute. She laughed almost sheepishly as she cut herself off, scratching her head. Embarrassed. Why the fuck was she embarrassed? Ema'd seen her kill people, she could probably deal with the fact that she was a fucking idiot. She bent over to open her bag (I am probably flashing cameras right now, whose idea was it to wear a miniskirt on Survival of the Fittest? Mine? Oh right, I'm retarded) and released her death grip on Vera, so cheered was she by the prospect of being piss drunk on a beach. Tucking the gun into her bag, she dug out the item in question- a decently sized silver flask with the words "hot mess" emblazoned oh-so-classily is that a word even on the front. She sloshed it around a bit. Yep, definitely mostly full.
Dear God or Buddha or maybe Satan in this case: you are fucking awesome, bro. Full score.
"Gotcha. You like vodka, yeah?"
How'd she known that? They'd never drank together except for that party. The one where you fucked that sexy hipster boy who you never saw again. And then Ema saw you. And then you broke up. You know, that one time.
Ow. Stupidity burns like fire.
She decided not to give Ema a chance to dwell on that because you will really miss your chance if you do and instead opened the flask. With a cheery "bottom's up!" she took a long gulp, and, concealing the burning in her throat with effort (why did I not bring cranberry juice), she handed the flask over to Ema.
"Your turn."
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
"Yeah. Yeah, I've definitely got some left, I mean, I've barely had any, I'd totally forgotten I had any until now, really-"
Hayley was grinning like a fool, clearly even more excited by the idea of alcohol than Ema herself. Probably wasn't thinking along the same lines yet. Must really like getting drunk, then.
Things change fast.
Having said it aloud, it became clear how true those poorly thought out words actually were. Not exactly the best way to express them, but it was concise enough. Things change fast, might as well nudge them in the right direction. Hayley bent over to find the messianic flask, displaying the exact reason Ema rarely wore even normal-length skirts, though she was hardly complaining. The gun went away, the small silver container came out. Ema followed suit in taking off her footwear, and joined Hayley on the sand.
"Gotcha. You like vodka, yeah?"
Ema had already guessed that's what was in it, and with no other options presenting themselves, no wasn't really a valid response. Not after getting Hayley so excited, at any rate. A nod answered the question. Directing change for her own benefit was all well and good, but that didn't mean Ema was any more comfortable doing it. Maybe she would be in a few minutes. More memories at fault, of course.
"Your turn."
Hayley had already made a start. Time for the proverbial moment of truth, then. Ema took the unassuming little container, held it, looking at it for a few moments. They felt longer than they actually were. The metal was cool, with just a hint of the warmth of Hayley's hand lingering on it, and warming up with each passing second it stayed in Ema's. Abandoning apprehension, she brought it to her lips. Still a little moist, a mixture of vodka and saliva. The alcohol overpowered the taste of the latter, but it was still somehow palpable. And it made Ema want more, preferably from the source.
Slowly, finally, she tipped the flask, letting the clear liquid spill onto her tongue. She swallowed quickly. It didn't taste of much, but it stung the inside of her mouth like a fire made of needles oh wow that's the best description I've ever heard, and wasn't a pleasant feeling. Passing down her throat, the sensation was much the same, but it lingered much longer. Ema couldn't help but let out a spluttering cough, and quickly cover her mouth.
Soon, though, the feeling changed. While the biting aftertaste remained, it seemed to pale to insignificance, in the wake of an all-encompassing feeling of calm. Euphoria, even. Whatever it was, it was nice, and more than worth the price. Ema took another swig, managing to control her instinct to cough it back up the second time around.
The "nice" feeling intensified.
Ema felt very, very calm.
Comfortable, even, sitting around on the sand with her... Her difficult-to-label companion.
Really quite relaxed.
Ema leaned across towards Hayley, headfirst. Is this it? Their faces came close. No, not yet, slow down. And Ema backed up a bit, hoping it could be palmed off as already being a little tipsy. More than a little. She added to the excuse, reeling off a quote that had rather luckily come to her.
"You know, alcohol, taken in sufficient quantities, produces all the effects of drunkenness."
Wilde? She was moderately sure it was Wilde. He'd probably worded it differently, more purple prose and big words, but it didn't really matter. Saying it perfectly would break the illusion. Ema handed the flask back to Hayley, moved back to how she'd been sitting to begin with. Yeah, let her have some more as well. Try not to think of this the way it looks.
Leaning back on her hands, Ema turned her eyes skyward. With the sun as low as it was, the stars were starting to come out, though the moon was nowhere to be seen just yet. It'd have been hard to set a more beautiful scene, and it was hard for Ema not to just put her foot in her mouth and blurt out everything she was thinking. But I only get one chance at this. No room for fucking it up.
Hayley was grinning like a fool, clearly even more excited by the idea of alcohol than Ema herself. Probably wasn't thinking along the same lines yet. Must really like getting drunk, then.
Things change fast.
Having said it aloud, it became clear how true those poorly thought out words actually were. Not exactly the best way to express them, but it was concise enough. Things change fast, might as well nudge them in the right direction. Hayley bent over to find the messianic flask, displaying the exact reason Ema rarely wore even normal-length skirts, though she was hardly complaining. The gun went away, the small silver container came out. Ema followed suit in taking off her footwear, and joined Hayley on the sand.
"Gotcha. You like vodka, yeah?"
Ema had already guessed that's what was in it, and with no other options presenting themselves, no wasn't really a valid response. Not after getting Hayley so excited, at any rate. A nod answered the question. Directing change for her own benefit was all well and good, but that didn't mean Ema was any more comfortable doing it. Maybe she would be in a few minutes. More memories at fault, of course.
"Your turn."
Hayley had already made a start. Time for the proverbial moment of truth, then. Ema took the unassuming little container, held it, looking at it for a few moments. They felt longer than they actually were. The metal was cool, with just a hint of the warmth of Hayley's hand lingering on it, and warming up with each passing second it stayed in Ema's. Abandoning apprehension, she brought it to her lips. Still a little moist, a mixture of vodka and saliva. The alcohol overpowered the taste of the latter, but it was still somehow palpable. And it made Ema want more, preferably from the source.
Slowly, finally, she tipped the flask, letting the clear liquid spill onto her tongue. She swallowed quickly. It didn't taste of much, but it stung the inside of her mouth like a fire made of needles oh wow that's the best description I've ever heard, and wasn't a pleasant feeling. Passing down her throat, the sensation was much the same, but it lingered much longer. Ema couldn't help but let out a spluttering cough, and quickly cover her mouth.
Soon, though, the feeling changed. While the biting aftertaste remained, it seemed to pale to insignificance, in the wake of an all-encompassing feeling of calm. Euphoria, even. Whatever it was, it was nice, and more than worth the price. Ema took another swig, managing to control her instinct to cough it back up the second time around.
The "nice" feeling intensified.
Ema felt very, very calm.
Comfortable, even, sitting around on the sand with her... Her difficult-to-label companion.
Really quite relaxed.
Ema leaned across towards Hayley, headfirst. Is this it? Their faces came close. No, not yet, slow down. And Ema backed up a bit, hoping it could be palmed off as already being a little tipsy. More than a little. She added to the excuse, reeling off a quote that had rather luckily come to her.
"You know, alcohol, taken in sufficient quantities, produces all the effects of drunkenness."
Wilde? She was moderately sure it was Wilde. He'd probably worded it differently, more purple prose and big words, but it didn't really matter. Saying it perfectly would break the illusion. Ema handed the flask back to Hayley, moved back to how she'd been sitting to begin with. Yeah, let her have some more as well. Try not to think of this the way it looks.
Leaning back on her hands, Ema turned her eyes skyward. With the sun as low as it was, the stars were starting to come out, though the moon was nowhere to be seen just yet. It'd have been hard to set a more beautiful scene, and it was hard for Ema not to just put her foot in her mouth and blurt out everything she was thinking. But I only get one chance at this. No room for fucking it up.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.
Hayley was feeling it. This was the beautiful thing about being a miniature version of a person; she had the tolerance of a three year old and she could totally feel the warmth pouring through her veins after one damn sip of vodka. Considering the limited supply they were gonna have to deal with this was a very, very convenient quality. She looked out at the water and the saltwater smell of the sea air that had irritated her so much moments before was really easy to ignore because holy shit. That is like...the ocean. That is a fucking universe of water right there. Oh shit, was I not just thinking about swimming? I definitely was. We need to swim. In the goddamn ocean. Fuck yes bro. It was hard to tell why her thoughts were so incoherent- the alcohol might have a bit to do with it, but it was probably more her total and complete happiness and her having a means at hand to forget all the shit that was fucking with her head.
Either way, she considered the fact that she was not currently running up and down the beach singing as the height of self-control.
Ema took her sip and Hayley couldn't help but giggle at her reaction to the taste. Yeah, well, it was vodka, Hayley couldn't judge her too harshly, but still it was cute amusing? Entertaining? Oh, hell, fuck it, it was cute. She seemed to take it in stride, though, even if she was a bit...wobbly. Jeez, how much did she take? Or maybe her tolerance is just worse than mine BUT WAIT THAT'S PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE. Whatever.
"You know, alcohol, taken in sufficient quantities, produces all the effects of drunkenness."
Hayley blinked.
Then she started laughing and for the life of her could not stop.
I'm- ahahahahaha- can't breathe- away laughing on a fast camel OH GOD THAT BOOK AHAHAHAHAHA what is air what is oxygen oh jesus
She took the proffered flask and drowned her laughter in a long gulp of the contained beverage, which did a good enough job of quieting her laughter. It burned on the way down as usual and she took a deep breath of that sea air. It did wondrous things for her throat. God, she didn't want to give the thing back, which was bitchy of her, probably, but fuck it, she wanted to be proper fucked up in short order. She compromised by taking another, smaller sip before passing the flask back over to Ema.
She focused her attention back to the sky. It really was a gorgeous night- she couldn't have asked for much better, and for the first time she was honestly grateful that Fucking Liz Polanski had happened to be near chased her out of her fucking mansion. They'd be able to run around drunkenly inside the mansion, yeah, but they wouldn't have this, the sky and the ocean that she was seriously looking forward to swimming in and the stars and the moon that touched Ema's skin like
Stop right there.
This whole not-thinking-about-sex thing, that thing that she'd been going with since this morning when thinking about sex had, oh yeah, gotten her boyfriend killed- that thing wasn't working. It really wasn't. She could blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol but seriously, honestly, she'd definitely been there before she started and uh for basically the last four days. Alcohol wasn't gonna help, not that that was gonna stop Hayley from drinking, because nothing could keep Hayley Kelly away from vodka, but...but.
Shit. Here she was, sitting with Ema, drinking, after what was probably the most traumatic fucking day of their lives, trying to forget about it all, and she was thinking about sex? That was seriously the story of her priorities in life but still, the guilt was eating at her. Her boyfriend died, what, twelve hours ago, something like that? And Ema probably wanted to forget about all this shit. To get drunk and to sleep.
Which is what I should be thinking about. Which is what I usually AM thinking about, actually, alcohol and sleep. And sex. Alcohol and sleep and seWHICH IS THE PROBLEM HERE HAYLEY. Listen to yourself. Look at your life. Look at your choices. Look at who's dead because you had to be a skank. I know that's your usual MO and everything but honestly, isn't this worth it? Can't you just, like. drink? Sit here? Be happy? Look at Ema without thinking about how her skin feels under her-
Okay, you need a minute?
She stood up, and in a dramatic voice, proclaimed:
"I'm going for a walk."
Her first step, she stumbled. The head rush was massive, but she wanted her feet in the water.
Hayley was feeling it. This was the beautiful thing about being a miniature version of a person; she had the tolerance of a three year old and she could totally feel the warmth pouring through her veins after one damn sip of vodka. Considering the limited supply they were gonna have to deal with this was a very, very convenient quality. She looked out at the water and the saltwater smell of the sea air that had irritated her so much moments before was really easy to ignore because holy shit. That is like...the ocean. That is a fucking universe of water right there. Oh shit, was I not just thinking about swimming? I definitely was. We need to swim. In the goddamn ocean. Fuck yes bro. It was hard to tell why her thoughts were so incoherent- the alcohol might have a bit to do with it, but it was probably more her total and complete happiness and her having a means at hand to forget all the shit that was fucking with her head.
Either way, she considered the fact that she was not currently running up and down the beach singing as the height of self-control.
Ema took her sip and Hayley couldn't help but giggle at her reaction to the taste. Yeah, well, it was vodka, Hayley couldn't judge her too harshly, but still it was cute amusing? Entertaining? Oh, hell, fuck it, it was cute. She seemed to take it in stride, though, even if she was a bit...wobbly. Jeez, how much did she take? Or maybe her tolerance is just worse than mine BUT WAIT THAT'S PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE. Whatever.
"You know, alcohol, taken in sufficient quantities, produces all the effects of drunkenness."
Hayley blinked.
Then she started laughing and for the life of her could not stop.
I'm- ahahahahaha- can't breathe- away laughing on a fast camel OH GOD THAT BOOK AHAHAHAHAHA what is air what is oxygen oh jesus
She took the proffered flask and drowned her laughter in a long gulp of the contained beverage, which did a good enough job of quieting her laughter. It burned on the way down as usual and she took a deep breath of that sea air. It did wondrous things for her throat. God, she didn't want to give the thing back, which was bitchy of her, probably, but fuck it, she wanted to be proper fucked up in short order. She compromised by taking another, smaller sip before passing the flask back over to Ema.
She focused her attention back to the sky. It really was a gorgeous night- she couldn't have asked for much better, and for the first time she was honestly grateful that Fucking Liz Polanski had happened to be near chased her out of her fucking mansion. They'd be able to run around drunkenly inside the mansion, yeah, but they wouldn't have this, the sky and the ocean that she was seriously looking forward to swimming in and the stars and the moon that touched Ema's skin like
Stop right there.
This whole not-thinking-about-sex thing, that thing that she'd been going with since this morning when thinking about sex had, oh yeah, gotten her boyfriend killed- that thing wasn't working. It really wasn't. She could blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol but seriously, honestly, she'd definitely been there before she started and uh for basically the last four days. Alcohol wasn't gonna help, not that that was gonna stop Hayley from drinking, because nothing could keep Hayley Kelly away from vodka, but...but.
Shit. Here she was, sitting with Ema, drinking, after what was probably the most traumatic fucking day of their lives, trying to forget about it all, and she was thinking about sex? That was seriously the story of her priorities in life but still, the guilt was eating at her. Her boyfriend died, what, twelve hours ago, something like that? And Ema probably wanted to forget about all this shit. To get drunk and to sleep.
Which is what I should be thinking about. Which is what I usually AM thinking about, actually, alcohol and sleep. And sex. Alcohol and sleep and seWHICH IS THE PROBLEM HERE HAYLEY. Listen to yourself. Look at your life. Look at your choices. Look at who's dead because you had to be a skank. I know that's your usual MO and everything but honestly, isn't this worth it? Can't you just, like. drink? Sit here? Be happy? Look at Ema without thinking about how her skin feels under her-
Okay, you need a minute?
She stood up, and in a dramatic voice, proclaimed:
"I'm going for a walk."
Her first step, she stumbled. The head rush was massive, but she wanted her feet in the water.
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Unsure what to make of the laugher, Ema just smiled through it, deciding to be glad her impromptu quote had been so well received. It was supposed to be witty, after all, and while she had much more experience with alcohol, Hayley probably wasn't much less intoxicated than she herself was. And her renewed drinking only exacerbated it.
The clouds concealing it passed on the gentle wind, and the moon became more readily visible, its reflected light bathing the beach in pale silver. Whilst she knew full well, thanks largely to Steven Fry, that the effect was entirely illusory, the vodka in Ema's system filled her with a sensation of comfortable warmth. A little uncomfortable, actually. She sat up for a moment, to unzip and remove her coat. The hood had been down for a while, with little sunlight left to shield from, but the chill of the evening had given her to zip the thing up to her chin for warmth on the way to the beach. Ema flung the garment rather haphazardly in the general direction her shoes, not even considering how much sand would get in it.
"I'm going for a walk."
Going for a walk? After the events of that morning, that was certainly an interesting choice of words. The last "walk" Hayley had gone for was definitely not one she'd be keen to repeat any time soon. Had she been in a clearer mindset at that moment, and without a vested interest in not being antagonistic, Ema might have mentioned it. But as it stood, even if she had recalled Hayley's choice of words back in the woods, she wouldn't have risked calling her out on them.
What she did feel like saying, though, was "Wait". To ask Hayley to let her get up and follow her to the water. Even if only a few meters apart, there was something about the way she walked away that made Ema feel somehow alone. But she didn't say that, either. No, surprise her instead. It'll be more... some adjective. Ema wasn't quite willing to insert "romantic" in there, in spite of everything. So she took another drink from Hayley's flask, closed it, and put it in her pocket.
Then she got up. Slowly, gradually, knowing better than to jump to her feet from experience.
The cooling sand felt nice between her toes. Soft, still warm from the sunlight, but not burning with midday heat.
She followed Hayley, not saying a word. The soft, loose ground made almost no sound under her feet. The other girl reached the water. She didn't turn around.
Ema caught up a few seconds later. The seawater was cold, but not bitterly so. Uncomfortable, but bearable. She'd get used to it soon.
She took one of Hayley's hands in her own.
Its owner turned around.
And, reaching her left hand around to rest on Hayley's back, Ema moved closer.
And she kissed her.
The clouds concealing it passed on the gentle wind, and the moon became more readily visible, its reflected light bathing the beach in pale silver. Whilst she knew full well, thanks largely to Steven Fry, that the effect was entirely illusory, the vodka in Ema's system filled her with a sensation of comfortable warmth. A little uncomfortable, actually. She sat up for a moment, to unzip and remove her coat. The hood had been down for a while, with little sunlight left to shield from, but the chill of the evening had given her to zip the thing up to her chin for warmth on the way to the beach. Ema flung the garment rather haphazardly in the general direction her shoes, not even considering how much sand would get in it.
"I'm going for a walk."
Going for a walk? After the events of that morning, that was certainly an interesting choice of words. The last "walk" Hayley had gone for was definitely not one she'd be keen to repeat any time soon. Had she been in a clearer mindset at that moment, and without a vested interest in not being antagonistic, Ema might have mentioned it. But as it stood, even if she had recalled Hayley's choice of words back in the woods, she wouldn't have risked calling her out on them.
What she did feel like saying, though, was "Wait". To ask Hayley to let her get up and follow her to the water. Even if only a few meters apart, there was something about the way she walked away that made Ema feel somehow alone. But she didn't say that, either. No, surprise her instead. It'll be more... some adjective. Ema wasn't quite willing to insert "romantic" in there, in spite of everything. So she took another drink from Hayley's flask, closed it, and put it in her pocket.
Then she got up. Slowly, gradually, knowing better than to jump to her feet from experience.
The cooling sand felt nice between her toes. Soft, still warm from the sunlight, but not burning with midday heat.
She followed Hayley, not saying a word. The soft, loose ground made almost no sound under her feet. The other girl reached the water. She didn't turn around.
Ema caught up a few seconds later. The seawater was cold, but not bitterly so. Uncomfortable, but bearable. She'd get used to it soon.
She took one of Hayley's hands in her own.
Its owner turned around.
And, reaching her left hand around to rest on Hayley's back, Ema moved closer.
And she kissed her.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Chib. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
This was pretty nice, actually. God, why didn't she like the beach again? Something about sea air and rust? Whatever. The now-wet sand between her toes was giving a considerable boost to her mood. Why'd she walk over here again? Leaving Ema alone seemed dumb, somehow. Why? She was having considerable trouble holding on to her thoughts for long enough to come up with conclusions. Whatever. Look at all this water, bro. You are going swimming. You are definitely going swimming and it is going to be awesome. Where'd Ema g- right, back there. She's got two guns, she'll be alright for like...five minutes while I sort out my existence. ...What's wrong, again?
Hayley's brain with alcohol added wasn't really a thing worth looking into.
Right. That whole self-control thing. Cause you're definitely good at that. Righto. She really wished she'd left her jacket back up the beach with Ema. It was warm; not oppressively so, but perhaps a bit warmer than she would've chosen if she'd been given a choice. It was the alcohol, she knew, since it'd been...brisk is a good word when she'd first gotten here, and it would probably be better for her to keep the jacket on, but catching cold was very, very low on her list of possible problems. I'm dumb. I'm really dumb. This was really dumb. I'm gonna do something really stupid and Ema's gonna leave. Again. Again! What happened last time you drank with Ema? YOU FUCKED A RANDOM HIPSTER. I mean, there's no random hipsters here, but you're gonna end up jumping Ema, that's not gonna end up any better, you have a boyfriend! Sort of. A dead boyfriend. It still counts. He's barely gone cold and here you are drunk on the beach thinking about someone else JESUS CHRIST I am a whore, this is not okay, would he forgive me? Probably, this is Survival of the Fittest, but no, okay, that's just rationalization, stop trying to make yourself feel better, you don't deserve it, you've killed five people for fuck's sake. FIVE! Five. That's a lot of angry dead people. Haunting you. Forever. Possibly literally.
No one told me this was gonna be this hard. I mean, you're supposed to figure that, I guess, but is it bad that the killing's the easier part?
Hayley was a drama magnet. This was the (unfortunate?) fact of being even slightly attractive, more than a little skanky, and drunk as often as she could manage, and she left a trail of broken hearts and rumors wherever she went. So you could say she was used to relationship drama and boy trouble and girl trouble and worrying about hookups and all that super high-school jazz. And she was used to it, all of it, except where love was concerned. Love and death, those were the two things that still freaked her out, and naturally those two things were the dominating forces in her life right now.
More the former. Love's scarier.
So yeah, she was drunk on a beach, and that was normal, but her boyfriend was dead, she'd killed five people, and she just might be in love with her ex-girlfriend, and THAT was the life of Hayley Kelly.
I don't deserve this, honest, I don't. I should be being crushed by my own guilt right now, but I'm just...not.
Hayley jumped as a hand touched her own. Oh, right, Ema, yeah, how long have I been standing here? Navelgazing? Not literally, I'm wearing clothes for once, that's always a shocker-
She turned around.
...
a-w0rjkpowjmrwjpanmfw9ej2903-1wk,sapsdwrowp[rf[p
This program has performed an illegal operation and will shut down.
As their lips separated, Hayley felt herself blinking dumbly, her eyes oh most definitely on Ema now. She was completely lost for words because this didn't make sense. She was SUPPOSED to be the bad girl lusting after her ex-girlfriend and she was supposed to be over here getting herself over it and now Ema was over here kissing HER and WHAT THE FUCK, that was not supposed to happen. How the fuck was she supposed to make herself feel guilty with Ema actually being totally and completely on her side? That was not okay. She was trying (and admittedly failing) to wallow in self-hatred and now Ema Ryan had to come and fuck it all up by being all gorgeous and perfect and apparently horny.
Damn her.
Paradoxically, probably because now she was really over-thinking it, Hayley suddenly felt guiltier. Her baser instincts, the ones she really wanted to listen to, were making delicious suggestions regarding Ema's clothing and how much better it would all look somewhere in the sand, but dammit, she was thinking way too much for that right now. Thinking was bad. Thinking was the enemy! Because thinking was reminding her that her karmic account was dead and dry, and she really shouldn't be allowed a moment of happiness ever again.
Well. There was a cure for thinking. It was a personal favorite of hers.
"I..." she pronounced, pausing dramatically. Alcohol gave her a scenery-chewing quality. "...need another drink." And somehow it took her a few moments before she realized how bad that sounded. Like, I NEED ANOTHER DRINK BECAUSE YOU'RE DISGUSTING AND I NEED BEER GOGGLES. Please don't let her think that. Please please please, if I could explain I would but I don't even know what I'm talking about... She compromised with herself by realizing that her hand and Ema's were still intertwined, and squeezing the other girl's hand tighter.
She dragged Ema back to what passed as a campsite (see- a couple of bags and Ema's sweatshirt) and immediately dropped her jacket, her pack dangling temptingly from its pocket. I want a cigarette. No, shit, wait for that, you start smoking now and you'll be chainsmoking all night and she's not gonna appreciate the ashtray mouth. She looked around for a bit before suddenly realizing that Ema had the flask the whole time, and that she was an idiot, not that that was news to her. She took the flask back from Ema with a sheepish grin and took her biggest gulp yet, passing what remained back to Ema.
Her clothes were getting itchy.
She took this as a good sign.
Hayley's brain with alcohol added wasn't really a thing worth looking into.
Right. That whole self-control thing. Cause you're definitely good at that. Righto. She really wished she'd left her jacket back up the beach with Ema. It was warm; not oppressively so, but perhaps a bit warmer than she would've chosen if she'd been given a choice. It was the alcohol, she knew, since it'd been...brisk is a good word when she'd first gotten here, and it would probably be better for her to keep the jacket on, but catching cold was very, very low on her list of possible problems. I'm dumb. I'm really dumb. This was really dumb. I'm gonna do something really stupid and Ema's gonna leave. Again. Again! What happened last time you drank with Ema? YOU FUCKED A RANDOM HIPSTER. I mean, there's no random hipsters here, but you're gonna end up jumping Ema, that's not gonna end up any better, you have a boyfriend! Sort of. A dead boyfriend. It still counts. He's barely gone cold and here you are drunk on the beach thinking about someone else JESUS CHRIST I am a whore, this is not okay, would he forgive me? Probably, this is Survival of the Fittest, but no, okay, that's just rationalization, stop trying to make yourself feel better, you don't deserve it, you've killed five people for fuck's sake. FIVE! Five. That's a lot of angry dead people. Haunting you. Forever. Possibly literally.
No one told me this was gonna be this hard. I mean, you're supposed to figure that, I guess, but is it bad that the killing's the easier part?
Hayley was a drama magnet. This was the (unfortunate?) fact of being even slightly attractive, more than a little skanky, and drunk as often as she could manage, and she left a trail of broken hearts and rumors wherever she went. So you could say she was used to relationship drama and boy trouble and girl trouble and worrying about hookups and all that super high-school jazz. And she was used to it, all of it, except where love was concerned. Love and death, those were the two things that still freaked her out, and naturally those two things were the dominating forces in her life right now.
More the former. Love's scarier.
So yeah, she was drunk on a beach, and that was normal, but her boyfriend was dead, she'd killed five people, and she just might be in love with her ex-girlfriend, and THAT was the life of Hayley Kelly.
I don't deserve this, honest, I don't. I should be being crushed by my own guilt right now, but I'm just...not.
Hayley jumped as a hand touched her own. Oh, right, Ema, yeah, how long have I been standing here? Navelgazing? Not literally, I'm wearing clothes for once, that's always a shocker-
She turned around.
...
a-w0rjkpowjmrwjpanmfw9ej2903-1wk,sapsdwrowp[rf[p
This program has performed an illegal operation and will shut down.
As their lips separated, Hayley felt herself blinking dumbly, her eyes oh most definitely on Ema now. She was completely lost for words because this didn't make sense. She was SUPPOSED to be the bad girl lusting after her ex-girlfriend and she was supposed to be over here getting herself over it and now Ema was over here kissing HER and WHAT THE FUCK, that was not supposed to happen. How the fuck was she supposed to make herself feel guilty with Ema actually being totally and completely on her side? That was not okay. She was trying (and admittedly failing) to wallow in self-hatred and now Ema Ryan had to come and fuck it all up by being all gorgeous and perfect and apparently horny.
Damn her.
Paradoxically, probably because now she was really over-thinking it, Hayley suddenly felt guiltier. Her baser instincts, the ones she really wanted to listen to, were making delicious suggestions regarding Ema's clothing and how much better it would all look somewhere in the sand, but dammit, she was thinking way too much for that right now. Thinking was bad. Thinking was the enemy! Because thinking was reminding her that her karmic account was dead and dry, and she really shouldn't be allowed a moment of happiness ever again.
Well. There was a cure for thinking. It was a personal favorite of hers.
"I..." she pronounced, pausing dramatically. Alcohol gave her a scenery-chewing quality. "...need another drink." And somehow it took her a few moments before she realized how bad that sounded. Like, I NEED ANOTHER DRINK BECAUSE YOU'RE DISGUSTING AND I NEED BEER GOGGLES. Please don't let her think that. Please please please, if I could explain I would but I don't even know what I'm talking about... She compromised with herself by realizing that her hand and Ema's were still intertwined, and squeezing the other girl's hand tighter.
She dragged Ema back to what passed as a campsite (see- a couple of bags and Ema's sweatshirt) and immediately dropped her jacket, her pack dangling temptingly from its pocket. I want a cigarette. No, shit, wait for that, you start smoking now and you'll be chainsmoking all night and she's not gonna appreciate the ashtray mouth. She looked around for a bit before suddenly realizing that Ema had the flask the whole time, and that she was an idiot, not that that was news to her. She took the flask back from Ema with a sheepish grin and took her biggest gulp yet, passing what remained back to Ema.
Her clothes were getting itchy.
She took this as a good sign.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
With the way her mind worked, Ema was appreciating the reversal in the situation before it truly started. Hayley certainly had a reputation, and had even tried to jump the late Kyle's bones twice on the island already, to Ema's knowledge. At least, she assumed that was what was supposed to happening that night on the beach, and that very morning in the woods, before both untimely interruptions. And yet, here she was, Ema Ryan, the one sort-of-quiet one that had - excluding Hayley herself - never been in an intimate relationship, thanks to her own social ineptitude, taking the initiative herself. Taking the easy party-girl by surprise by being the one to make an advance.
For the first few seconds, Hayley's face was the picture of shock. Ema didn't know what expression there was after that, as she had closed her eyes, more interested in touch than sight, in lips than eyes. When she eventually pulled away, the other girl looked positively dumbfounded. Is it really that surprising? I am human, and I need to be lo-- oh no no more in-head Morrissey. I have needs. Maybe it was something else, people are complicated creatures, after all. Point is, she didn't seem to be upset.
She still looked confused, though. Ema could see the proverbial cogs turning, trying to process what had just happened. There wasn't much Ema could offer by way of an explanation, though, short of being completely honest. But that would take one hell of a long time to talk through. Instead, she tried to mumble something along the lines of "Sorry, not sure why I did that.", but didn't have the chance. Hayley had already come to a conclusion of sorts.
"I..."
Without even realising it, Ema held her breath. This was not a good time for long pauses. The thought of what might be coming next terrified her, before she could even think up what it might be. It might be bad, that's all she could process.
"...need another drink."
Oh thank almighty merciful whoeveritisupthere. Worst case scenario, she'd probably just want to not talk about it again. Ema could live with that. And from the way they were still holding hands, that didn't seem likely. Best case scenario? That was something she'd rather not jinx by even thinking about. Unfortunately though, Ema was quite inebriated and aroused, so self-control was a crapshoot. Hundreds of images filled the girl's mind as Hayley led her back to the loose collection of belongings a few meters inland. She didn't have time to realise the drink in question was still in her pocket. Upon reaching the bags, it dawned on her, and she handed it over.
Hayley took off her jacket, then swallowed a large swig. Almost worryingly large. Then she handed it back over. A gentle shake told Ema less than half remained, maybe less than a quarter. The shape made it hard to judge, as did her state of mind. The two of them had certainly had a lot, though. Noting that, the amount taken at once ceased to feel relevant. So Ema followed suit, leaving very little behind after the silver parted from her mouth. Prepared for the powerful taste, she didn't choke.
Perhaps later, she'd wonder why she took hold of Hayley's hand once again, before she spoke. At the moment itself, the action just felt natural. The words didn't.
"So, um, I..."
I what? Love you? Probably true... No, too overt, too cheesy, too volatile. Want you? Could work, if I had the balls to say it like that. Need something more than just mas-- no that's not even slightly helpful, come on.
Problem was that she'd started to say something. Now she didn't have much choice besides finishing it, or looking like an idiot. With the flask still in her free hand, Ema prolonged the silence with another awkward mouthful.
I'm sorry? No, that weirded her out last time. I... missed you? Missed... this?
That seemed safe enough. After their somewhat forced reconciliation, and all the fun not-being-over-Hayley awkwardness that brought, the two of them hadn't often hung out, besides when Maddy had organised it. Across the more recent weeks, they'd grown closer - best friends, as Hayley herself aptly put it - yet still they hadn't spent much time together. They hadn't even taken the same bus for the trip. And whilst fighting to the death was a lot worse than homework, she missed being able to relax and forget the worries hanging over her head, if only for one evening.
"I missed this, you know, spending time with you like this."
And, not for the first time, Ema regretted having been so aloof in the months following their break up.
For the first few seconds, Hayley's face was the picture of shock. Ema didn't know what expression there was after that, as she had closed her eyes, more interested in touch than sight, in lips than eyes. When she eventually pulled away, the other girl looked positively dumbfounded. Is it really that surprising? I am human, and I need to be lo-- oh no no more in-head Morrissey. I have needs. Maybe it was something else, people are complicated creatures, after all. Point is, she didn't seem to be upset.
She still looked confused, though. Ema could see the proverbial cogs turning, trying to process what had just happened. There wasn't much Ema could offer by way of an explanation, though, short of being completely honest. But that would take one hell of a long time to talk through. Instead, she tried to mumble something along the lines of "Sorry, not sure why I did that.", but didn't have the chance. Hayley had already come to a conclusion of sorts.
"I..."
Without even realising it, Ema held her breath. This was not a good time for long pauses. The thought of what might be coming next terrified her, before she could even think up what it might be. It might be bad, that's all she could process.
"...need another drink."
Oh thank almighty merciful whoeveritisupthere. Worst case scenario, she'd probably just want to not talk about it again. Ema could live with that. And from the way they were still holding hands, that didn't seem likely. Best case scenario? That was something she'd rather not jinx by even thinking about. Unfortunately though, Ema was quite inebriated and aroused, so self-control was a crapshoot. Hundreds of images filled the girl's mind as Hayley led her back to the loose collection of belongings a few meters inland. She didn't have time to realise the drink in question was still in her pocket. Upon reaching the bags, it dawned on her, and she handed it over.
Hayley took off her jacket, then swallowed a large swig. Almost worryingly large. Then she handed it back over. A gentle shake told Ema less than half remained, maybe less than a quarter. The shape made it hard to judge, as did her state of mind. The two of them had certainly had a lot, though. Noting that, the amount taken at once ceased to feel relevant. So Ema followed suit, leaving very little behind after the silver parted from her mouth. Prepared for the powerful taste, she didn't choke.
Perhaps later, she'd wonder why she took hold of Hayley's hand once again, before she spoke. At the moment itself, the action just felt natural. The words didn't.
"So, um, I..."
I what? Love you? Probably true... No, too overt, too cheesy, too volatile. Want you? Could work, if I had the balls to say it like that. Need something more than just mas-- no that's not even slightly helpful, come on.
Problem was that she'd started to say something. Now she didn't have much choice besides finishing it, or looking like an idiot. With the flask still in her free hand, Ema prolonged the silence with another awkward mouthful.
I'm sorry? No, that weirded her out last time. I... missed you? Missed... this?
That seemed safe enough. After their somewhat forced reconciliation, and all the fun not-being-over-Hayley awkwardness that brought, the two of them hadn't often hung out, besides when Maddy had organised it. Across the more recent weeks, they'd grown closer - best friends, as Hayley herself aptly put it - yet still they hadn't spent much time together. They hadn't even taken the same bus for the trip. And whilst fighting to the death was a lot worse than homework, she missed being able to relax and forget the worries hanging over her head, if only for one evening.
"I missed this, you know, spending time with you like this."
And, not for the first time, Ema regretted having been so aloof in the months following their break up.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
They were running low. Real low. Her last swallow had taken most of what was left in the flask and she realized she didn't mind because goddammit, she was drunk. Definitely drunk. This was an awesome development that she was very much happy with, because she knew as the vodka coursed on through her I've got innocence for daaays...wait that's not even the lyric she knew that this was gonna get easier and easier. Karmic debts are not high priority for the sufficiently twisted, after all, and as Ema took most of the little that remained Hayley knew her mind would be on other things soon enough.
She wasn't even surprised when Ema took her hand again, really. It felt natural, normal, even- physical contact was Hayley's number-one need when intoxicated. She could be unbearably touchy when drunk, not that she thought the other girl would mind.
"So, um, I..."
That was hesitation Hayley recognized in her voice. Oh no no no what if she regrets it? What if she's gonna be all like I'M SORRY NVM THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN oh fuck well I'd deserve that NO HAYLEY KARMIC DEBTS ARE IRRELEVANT RIGHT NOW fuck she's not gonna is she no she's not she can't but she could really but aaaaaaargh WHY MUST GIRLS BE SO DIFFICULT. The other girl took another drink herself - we've gotta be done by now, yeah? - and left Hayley blinking through silence, waiting in silent desperation for Ema to say anything that wasn't "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." Boys are difficult too. Urgh. Can't win. People suck.
"I missed this, you know, spending time with you like this."
Oh. That would do, yeah, that was definitely not "I didn't mean that". Even the inebriated mind of Hayley had to stifle the urge to comment on how they'd never spent time together quite like this, drunk on a beach on Survival of the Fittest, but she figured that'd be kind of mood-killing. Not that Hayley could be trusted to be eloquent while intoxicated. Her current thought process was a pretty good indicator of exactly how much she should be trusted to open her mouth.
Of course, responding to that statement with silence was not a good idea. She opened her mouth and closed it again before scraping some words together to actually say.
"I missed this too," she managed to say without slurring. "I mean, the circumstances are kinda not what I'd be hoping for, but like...yeah. We've got vodka and...like...a fucking beach. And-"
And each other, she thought, before realizing that that would be the dorkiest thing to ever be said out loud ever.
"...and yeah," she ended lamely. God, her clothes were itchy. Hayley had a penchant for flinging her clothes off when she was drunk, whether she had a reason to do so or not. She had the urge but kept it to a dull roar in her head. The last thing she wanted to do was be freaking Ema out now. Slow and steady wins the no fuck off with the cliches. Just, like, wait for a good excuse, yeah?
...Oh. Shit. She had one.
"Ema," she began, looking at the other girl with a small smile beginning to form on her face. "You wanna go swimming?" Her words were slurring a bit more now but whatever, fucks not given.
She wasn't even surprised when Ema took her hand again, really. It felt natural, normal, even- physical contact was Hayley's number-one need when intoxicated. She could be unbearably touchy when drunk, not that she thought the other girl would mind.
"So, um, I..."
That was hesitation Hayley recognized in her voice. Oh no no no what if she regrets it? What if she's gonna be all like I'M SORRY NVM THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN oh fuck well I'd deserve that NO HAYLEY KARMIC DEBTS ARE IRRELEVANT RIGHT NOW fuck she's not gonna is she no she's not she can't but she could really but aaaaaaargh WHY MUST GIRLS BE SO DIFFICULT. The other girl took another drink herself - we've gotta be done by now, yeah? - and left Hayley blinking through silence, waiting in silent desperation for Ema to say anything that wasn't "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." Boys are difficult too. Urgh. Can't win. People suck.
"I missed this, you know, spending time with you like this."
Oh. That would do, yeah, that was definitely not "I didn't mean that". Even the inebriated mind of Hayley had to stifle the urge to comment on how they'd never spent time together quite like this, drunk on a beach on Survival of the Fittest, but she figured that'd be kind of mood-killing. Not that Hayley could be trusted to be eloquent while intoxicated. Her current thought process was a pretty good indicator of exactly how much she should be trusted to open her mouth.
Of course, responding to that statement with silence was not a good idea. She opened her mouth and closed it again before scraping some words together to actually say.
"I missed this too," she managed to say without slurring. "I mean, the circumstances are kinda not what I'd be hoping for, but like...yeah. We've got vodka and...like...a fucking beach. And-"
And each other, she thought, before realizing that that would be the dorkiest thing to ever be said out loud ever.
"...and yeah," she ended lamely. God, her clothes were itchy. Hayley had a penchant for flinging her clothes off when she was drunk, whether she had a reason to do so or not. She had the urge but kept it to a dull roar in her head. The last thing she wanted to do was be freaking Ema out now. Slow and steady wins the no fuck off with the cliches. Just, like, wait for a good excuse, yeah?
...Oh. Shit. She had one.
"Ema," she began, looking at the other girl with a small smile beginning to form on her face. "You wanna go swimming?" Her words were slurring a bit more now but whatever, fucks not given.
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From the sounds of things, the vodka was getting to Hayley already. Noticing this, Ema was rather surprised she still seemed to be thinking so clearly. Maybe she just thought she was, or something. There wasn't much future in pondering that one for too long, the very concept gave rise to a dull ache in her head. Better to just do what comes naturally, and hope for the best.
"...and yeah,"
Well, at least she wasn't the only one incapable of finishing a sentence properly after starting it. Ema took some comfort in that.
For some reason, though, she felt really, really hot. Not uncomfortably - maybe a little bit uncomfortably - but unusually. It was supposed to be chilly, at this time of night, outside. Feeling her own arms and forehead, they all felt cold, too. It perplexed her, but again, thinking too heavily on it wasn't worth the effort. Must just be the alcohol. Aren't there supposed to be rescue dogs that carry brandy to warm people up, but they actually don't because it's not actually helpful? Something like that. With that thought, a tangent was gone off on, wondering how she'd heard about that. Probably QI. Everything she knew that was contrary to popular belief seemed to have come from it.
"Ema,"
Oh yeah, Hayley, still there, still just stopped kissing her. Pay attention. What's with the grin? Not creepy, but... what's with it?
"You wanna go swimming?"
Oh.
That actually sounded like a really good idea. Ema hadn't been swimming in months. The water wasn't particularly cold, either. And wait hang on what was she supposed to wear? Going into the sea fully clothed wasn't particularly appealing, and given her state, might actually be dangerous. There wasn't anything on underneath her shirt either, and she didn't have a costume or anyth-- oh wait, that's the idea. Come on, I started this, how can I not get where it's going?
"Yeah, I'd like that."
That just left the matter of actually going through with it. Ema knew well enough it was kind of too late to have second thoughts, but that didn't make things any easier. Neither did the likely presence of cameras, and the likely audience of her parents. Not like it's anything they haven't seen already... and if it wasn't already obvious how Hayley and I roll, well...
Ema took hold of her left sleeve, pulled her arm into the inside of the shirt. Because fuck it, I've always wanted to do this.. Without letting go, she then yanked it all the way off, the sort-of-diagonal-sort-of-curved motion taking the neck- and right arm-holes with it... or it would have, if Ema weren't prone to making mistakes and looking like a prat, especially whilst drunk and in the dark. Instead, the collar caught on the side of her head and got stuck, whilst the pulling motion just made it bunch up and become even harder to remove. Fagballs. And that's not even a real curse.
Several seconds of struggling and looking like a complete idiot later, Ema removed the offending garment, and hurled it on top of her coat triumphantly. Well, it was triumphant until she remembered that she'd completely screwed up the quick-and-cool-looking part of the deal. Oh well. Next came the jeans, considerably easier to remove, and soon topping off the pile of black clothes. Guess it's too late to invest in some more colours. The very last item of clothing, she kept on. She wasn't sure why, as soaking her underwear in seawater probably wasn't a great idea, but then again, neither was being stark naked in the middle of a televised fight to the death. 6 of one, half-dozen of the other, and it was just easier not to change anything.
As she made her way back to the water's edge, Ema subconsciously crossed her arms over her chest. After the debacle with her shirt, it wasn't as though anybody watching hadn't already seen what was - or wasn't - there, but such was the nature of her instincts. She stepped into the cool water, already prepared for the temperature, and waded out to about knee-depth, before turning back to look for Hayley.
"...and yeah,"
Well, at least she wasn't the only one incapable of finishing a sentence properly after starting it. Ema took some comfort in that.
For some reason, though, she felt really, really hot. Not uncomfortably - maybe a little bit uncomfortably - but unusually. It was supposed to be chilly, at this time of night, outside. Feeling her own arms and forehead, they all felt cold, too. It perplexed her, but again, thinking too heavily on it wasn't worth the effort. Must just be the alcohol. Aren't there supposed to be rescue dogs that carry brandy to warm people up, but they actually don't because it's not actually helpful? Something like that. With that thought, a tangent was gone off on, wondering how she'd heard about that. Probably QI. Everything she knew that was contrary to popular belief seemed to have come from it.
"Ema,"
Oh yeah, Hayley, still there, still just stopped kissing her. Pay attention. What's with the grin? Not creepy, but... what's with it?
"You wanna go swimming?"
Oh.
That actually sounded like a really good idea. Ema hadn't been swimming in months. The water wasn't particularly cold, either. And wait hang on what was she supposed to wear? Going into the sea fully clothed wasn't particularly appealing, and given her state, might actually be dangerous. There wasn't anything on underneath her shirt either, and she didn't have a costume or anyth-- oh wait, that's the idea. Come on, I started this, how can I not get where it's going?
"Yeah, I'd like that."
That just left the matter of actually going through with it. Ema knew well enough it was kind of too late to have second thoughts, but that didn't make things any easier. Neither did the likely presence of cameras, and the likely audience of her parents. Not like it's anything they haven't seen already... and if it wasn't already obvious how Hayley and I roll, well...
Ema took hold of her left sleeve, pulled her arm into the inside of the shirt. Because fuck it, I've always wanted to do this.. Without letting go, she then yanked it all the way off, the sort-of-diagonal-sort-of-curved motion taking the neck- and right arm-holes with it... or it would have, if Ema weren't prone to making mistakes and looking like a prat, especially whilst drunk and in the dark. Instead, the collar caught on the side of her head and got stuck, whilst the pulling motion just made it bunch up and become even harder to remove. Fagballs. And that's not even a real curse.
Several seconds of struggling and looking like a complete idiot later, Ema removed the offending garment, and hurled it on top of her coat triumphantly. Well, it was triumphant until she remembered that she'd completely screwed up the quick-and-cool-looking part of the deal. Oh well. Next came the jeans, considerably easier to remove, and soon topping off the pile of black clothes. Guess it's too late to invest in some more colours. The very last item of clothing, she kept on. She wasn't sure why, as soaking her underwear in seawater probably wasn't a great idea, but then again, neither was being stark naked in the middle of a televised fight to the death. 6 of one, half-dozen of the other, and it was just easier not to change anything.
As she made her way back to the water's edge, Ema subconsciously crossed her arms over her chest. After the debacle with her shirt, it wasn't as though anybody watching hadn't already seen what was - or wasn't - there, but such was the nature of her instincts. She stepped into the cool water, already prepared for the temperature, and waded out to about knee-depth, before turning back to look for Hayley.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Fuck yeah. Just as planned. Not that there was actually any planning involved.
Hayley tugged off her shirt with the enthusiasm of a child, the consequences of the last time she'd taken off her shirt buried deep in a currently inaccessible portion of her brain. Her skirt was next and it took her a decent minute to wiggle out of it given her current complete lack of coordination. By the time she was out of the damned thing, in fact, Ema was already halfway to the water, her skin glowing under the moon.
Yeah, cause that's not distracting at all.
Right, so now she was standing here in her underwear, which was definitely new, standing mostly naked on the beach, not anything she'd ever done before at all. The sense of deja vu was enough to overcome even Hayley's drunken fugue, though only to the extent that she reminded herself that now she was in different underwear. No ruffles on her ass today, thank-you-very-much. In fact, the white and blue pinstripe design of the two matching parts, and the cut of the garments themselves, made them look more like pieces of a bathing suit than anything else, which was fitting given how she'd soon be in the water, and less fitting because she'd be taking them off first.
She only thought about it for a second. Sure her parents would be watching this and sure half of America was watching this (and there's no way they're not showing us right now) and sure Ema had left her underwear on but fuck it. Fuck all of that. Fuck it in every direction. I'm gonna be too dead soon enough to notice anyone's judgement, yeah? Of course, there was also that whole alcohol thing messing with her ability to think things through, and also Hayley's general bias to wearing as little clothing as humanly possible. You know, the usual.
Oh well. She snapped her bra open with one hand and let it fall to the ground; her panties were again trickier and required a lot of strategic hopping up and down on one foot. Miraculously she managed to do so without falling over, and after gathering her clothing in a less-than-perfect heap she headed off after Ema, bouncier than usual in more than one sense. She stumbled a few times on the way there but was too grateful she hadn't fallen in a heap to really be too upset, and besides that she couldn't be upset because really, could things have ended up better for her if she'd tried?
A small voice pointed out that leaving both their weapons (not to mention all their food and their clothes) up on the beach, alone, was probably stupid. An even smaller voice pointed out that she'd totally deserve it if someone came out of nowhere and busted a cap in her skull.
Both voices went unnoticed under all the alcoholic joy, and she felt only that upon taking her first steps into the water. The cold raced up her legs, mixing with the warmth pulsing within her in a pleasant way, and she noted that Ema had stopped now with the water up to her knees. Wishing she was capable of being silent (she decidedly was not, even at the best of times) she considered sneaking up on the other girl for a moment before the girl in question turned around.
"Er. Boo?"
Hayley became very aware that she and Ema were exactly identical in pallor and height and very different in other aspects, such as cup size and capacity for shame. Ema was standing with her arms crossed over her practically non-existent bust and here came Hayley bounding over not at all embarrassed and with considerably more to potentially be embarrassed by, with the chill from the water and from the night air having a noticeable effect on her. Even she would've probably blushed or something if she was just a little less drunk, but nope, she was pretty damn drunk and these were yet more fucks not given.
"So? Come on, then. There's more water out there. I mean...uh, duh, it's the ocean. You know what I meant, yeah?" She motioned outward vaguely in a way that could've meant anything, and after a moment she realized she was making no fucking sense and just took Ema's hand, pulling them into slightly deeper water- even drunken Hayley was aware that wading out too deep would result in a rather unpleasant death, and that would put a major damper on her whole evening. It was about waist-deep in the water that she stopped and, letting go of Ema's hand for a moment, gleefully ducked into an oncoming wave.
She came out the other side spluttering with water in her nose.
Right. THAT'S why I hate the beach.
Fuck yeah. Just as planned. Not that there was actually any planning involved.
Hayley tugged off her shirt with the enthusiasm of a child, the consequences of the last time she'd taken off her shirt buried deep in a currently inaccessible portion of her brain. Her skirt was next and it took her a decent minute to wiggle out of it given her current complete lack of coordination. By the time she was out of the damned thing, in fact, Ema was already halfway to the water, her skin glowing under the moon.
Yeah, cause that's not distracting at all.
Right, so now she was standing here in her underwear, which was definitely new, standing mostly naked on the beach, not anything she'd ever done before at all. The sense of deja vu was enough to overcome even Hayley's drunken fugue, though only to the extent that she reminded herself that now she was in different underwear. No ruffles on her ass today, thank-you-very-much. In fact, the white and blue pinstripe design of the two matching parts, and the cut of the garments themselves, made them look more like pieces of a bathing suit than anything else, which was fitting given how she'd soon be in the water, and less fitting because she'd be taking them off first.
She only thought about it for a second. Sure her parents would be watching this and sure half of America was watching this (and there's no way they're not showing us right now) and sure Ema had left her underwear on but fuck it. Fuck all of that. Fuck it in every direction. I'm gonna be too dead soon enough to notice anyone's judgement, yeah? Of course, there was also that whole alcohol thing messing with her ability to think things through, and also Hayley's general bias to wearing as little clothing as humanly possible. You know, the usual.
Oh well. She snapped her bra open with one hand and let it fall to the ground; her panties were again trickier and required a lot of strategic hopping up and down on one foot. Miraculously she managed to do so without falling over, and after gathering her clothing in a less-than-perfect heap she headed off after Ema, bouncier than usual in more than one sense. She stumbled a few times on the way there but was too grateful she hadn't fallen in a heap to really be too upset, and besides that she couldn't be upset because really, could things have ended up better for her if she'd tried?
A small voice pointed out that leaving both their weapons (not to mention all their food and their clothes) up on the beach, alone, was probably stupid. An even smaller voice pointed out that she'd totally deserve it if someone came out of nowhere and busted a cap in her skull.
Both voices went unnoticed under all the alcoholic joy, and she felt only that upon taking her first steps into the water. The cold raced up her legs, mixing with the warmth pulsing within her in a pleasant way, and she noted that Ema had stopped now with the water up to her knees. Wishing she was capable of being silent (she decidedly was not, even at the best of times) she considered sneaking up on the other girl for a moment before the girl in question turned around.
"Er. Boo?"
Hayley became very aware that she and Ema were exactly identical in pallor and height and very different in other aspects, such as cup size and capacity for shame. Ema was standing with her arms crossed over her practically non-existent bust and here came Hayley bounding over not at all embarrassed and with considerably more to potentially be embarrassed by, with the chill from the water and from the night air having a noticeable effect on her. Even she would've probably blushed or something if she was just a little less drunk, but nope, she was pretty damn drunk and these were yet more fucks not given.
"So? Come on, then. There's more water out there. I mean...uh, duh, it's the ocean. You know what I meant, yeah?" She motioned outward vaguely in a way that could've meant anything, and after a moment she realized she was making no fucking sense and just took Ema's hand, pulling them into slightly deeper water- even drunken Hayley was aware that wading out too deep would result in a rather unpleasant death, and that would put a major damper on her whole evening. It was about waist-deep in the water that she stopped and, letting go of Ema's hand for a moment, gleefully ducked into an oncoming wave.
She came out the other side spluttering with water in her nose.
Right. THAT'S why I hate the beach.
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This is nice.
Cold, wet, ostensibly naked in public, and surrounded by murderers. Perhaps the last part was exaggerating, but paranoia's pretty justified when about 50% of the people that were alive six days ago have been killed by their peers. But regardless of all these things, Ema felt nice. It was pretty obvious to her why, there were two very good reasons, but the fact that she could feel so good when so very paranoid, and surrounded by so much legitimate danger, was still quite surprising.
It didn't take long for Hayley to join her, she must've had a little more trouble with her clothes than Ema did, which was a little surprising. But as Ema turned around, she saw Hayley joining her in the water, breaking the silence - save for the lapping of waves - with a somewhat goofy "Er. Boo?", as though she'd been trying to sneak up behind Ema.
She wasn't really paying attention to what was being said, though. Like an adolescent boy seeing Playboy for the first time, there was really only one thing on her mind just then. Hayley was completely naked. Boobs. Holy shit. This is for real. And they're like, right there in front of me. The self control required to keep her hands to herself was astronomical, but years of social ineptitude added to months of specific awkwardness added up to an apprehensiveness that made it a lot easier.
"So? Come on, then. There's more water out there. I mean...uh, duh, it's the ocean. You know what I meant, yeah?"
Oh yeah, the actual reason they were out there. Swimming, not gawking at flesh. What am I, a twelve year old boy? Jesus. This is what the internet was supposed to prepare me for. But still, she hadn't been prepared, and it did take a while to stop staring, and just avert her eyes to somewhere, anywhere else. And by that point, Hayley had prised one arm away from Ema's midriff, taken her hand, and dragged her off deeper into the water. Maybe she didn't notice. Or didn't care?
Too busy overthinking everything, Ema was thrown to the ground when the wave hit her, landing headfirst on the soft sand previously at her feet. She shot back up, petrified of being pulled under and drowned, and spat salt-water out of her mouth, whilst rubbing it out of her eyes. Yeah, swimming drunk, great idea she thought, looking around for Hayley. Fuck fuck fuck where'd she go I don't wanna be aloOh there she is thank God. She waded back to Hayley's depth, still trying to get stubborn drops of seawater out of her mouth, and asked, quite rhetorically "Maybe this," splutter, "Wasn't a great idea?"
And she took hold of Hayley's hand once again, just in case, and tried to figure out where her eyes should be focused.
What am I doing?, asked a small voice in her head, apparently out of nowhere. Kyle died this morning. This bloody morning. What's wrong with me?
Like so many other terrible things she didn't want to accept responsibility for, Ema just tried not to think about it. Put it from her mind, and hoped it went away. She wasn't a bad person. Right? But then she did have an answer.
Last time we drank together, she forgot about me and went off with some guy. It's only fair she forgets about the guy and goes off with me this time around.
Horribly selfish? Maybe. But Ema focused on the poetic justice instead. That was more palatable, less sociopathic. That she hadn't died last time didn't factor into it. And she felt okay about herself again. And she kissed Hayley again.
Cold, wet, ostensibly naked in public, and surrounded by murderers. Perhaps the last part was exaggerating, but paranoia's pretty justified when about 50% of the people that were alive six days ago have been killed by their peers. But regardless of all these things, Ema felt nice. It was pretty obvious to her why, there were two very good reasons, but the fact that she could feel so good when so very paranoid, and surrounded by so much legitimate danger, was still quite surprising.
It didn't take long for Hayley to join her, she must've had a little more trouble with her clothes than Ema did, which was a little surprising. But as Ema turned around, she saw Hayley joining her in the water, breaking the silence - save for the lapping of waves - with a somewhat goofy "Er. Boo?", as though she'd been trying to sneak up behind Ema.
She wasn't really paying attention to what was being said, though. Like an adolescent boy seeing Playboy for the first time, there was really only one thing on her mind just then. Hayley was completely naked. Boobs. Holy shit. This is for real. And they're like, right there in front of me. The self control required to keep her hands to herself was astronomical, but years of social ineptitude added to months of specific awkwardness added up to an apprehensiveness that made it a lot easier.
"So? Come on, then. There's more water out there. I mean...uh, duh, it's the ocean. You know what I meant, yeah?"
Oh yeah, the actual reason they were out there. Swimming, not gawking at flesh. What am I, a twelve year old boy? Jesus. This is what the internet was supposed to prepare me for. But still, she hadn't been prepared, and it did take a while to stop staring, and just avert her eyes to somewhere, anywhere else. And by that point, Hayley had prised one arm away from Ema's midriff, taken her hand, and dragged her off deeper into the water. Maybe she didn't notice. Or didn't care?
Too busy overthinking everything, Ema was thrown to the ground when the wave hit her, landing headfirst on the soft sand previously at her feet. She shot back up, petrified of being pulled under and drowned, and spat salt-water out of her mouth, whilst rubbing it out of her eyes. Yeah, swimming drunk, great idea she thought, looking around for Hayley. Fuck fuck fuck where'd she go I don't wanna be aloOh there she is thank God. She waded back to Hayley's depth, still trying to get stubborn drops of seawater out of her mouth, and asked, quite rhetorically "Maybe this," splutter, "Wasn't a great idea?"
And she took hold of Hayley's hand once again, just in case, and tried to figure out where her eyes should be focused.
What am I doing?, asked a small voice in her head, apparently out of nowhere. Kyle died this morning. This bloody morning. What's wrong with me?
Like so many other terrible things she didn't want to accept responsibility for, Ema just tried not to think about it. Put it from her mind, and hoped it went away. She wasn't a bad person. Right? But then she did have an answer.
Last time we drank together, she forgot about me and went off with some guy. It's only fair she forgets about the guy and goes off with me this time around.
Horribly selfish? Maybe. But Ema focused on the poetic justice instead. That was more palatable, less sociopathic. That she hadn't died last time didn't factor into it. And she felt okay about herself again. And she kissed Hayley again.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Hayley was most definitely enjoying this. She hadn't been the recipient of the adolescent-male oh holy god she has tits stare in what felt like forever, and certainly not from someone she was actually into. Because Kyle had tact. And tact was boring. And Christ, girly, can you pick a better time to think about your dead ex-boyfriend?
Right. Head in the game and all that. Whatever that game was; it sure as fuck wasn't Survival of the Fittest, not right now.
Not that it was easy to keep her head anywhere what with this whole drunk thing she had going on.
Not to mention there was now a vast quantity of seawater running out of her nose as she tried desperately to stop sputtering. And the water rolling over her head was no doubt sending mascara streaming down her face. Okay, yeah, she was about 300% unattractive right now that doesn't even make sense and she was dead grateful she had tits because those were about all she had going for her. Not that Ema seemed to be complaining.
"Maybe this-"
The other girl really wasn't doing any better with the water. Though she still looked gorgeous from where Hayley was standing. Damn her. Again.
"-Wasn't a great idea?"
Well. Does that count as complaining? No, she's kind of...kind of right, if I'm gonna be honest with myself I wanted an excuse to get us naked- she coughed, expelling the last of the seawater. Not that I think Ema'd be surprised if I told her that. Oh, yeah, Ema, I was just being a conniving little skank- please, that's like my default mode of operation. She was kind of lost for what to say, though. Yeah, Ema, I'm a fucking idiot, let's go be naked on the beach- that'll do. Brilliant. What can I even-
And then Ema's lips were back on hers, and she felt considerably better about this whole thing.
For a second, anyway. Then it was strategy time. Fuck murder, really, that was simpler than this.
Her hands wandered. First one hand found the other girl's neck and the other in tangled in her hair, but that felt way too familiar, so then they wound up on her waist, but she cut that out after it made her become aware again of the stupid and now-stinging cuts on her own sides. So eventually her hands wound up on Ema's ass because dammit, I keep it classy.
Speaking of classy, Hayley's thoughts were now dedicated to getting Ema out of this godforsaken pair of underwear she'd insisted on leaving on. Naturally, because nothing could ever be easy and not-retarded in her life, she couldn't think of anything that wouldn't wind up with either one of them falling back in the water (her sinuses had been well and cleared up the saltwater and she did not need any more, thank you very much) or with Ema's panties ripped in half, which she figured Ema'd be kind of annoyed about in the morning. Goddamn me and my ideas.
You know what? Fuck it. It was her idea.
She broke off the kiss, which was really low on the list of things she wanted to do right now. Her hands (equally reluctant to move, really) moved back to Ema's.
"Yeah," she whispered. "Maybe it wasn't. Maybe we should go back to shore. And maybe we shouldn't go to sleep just yet."
Fuck yeah, again. Brilliant one-liner, probably. Or, uh, three-liner. ...Whatever.
Right. Head in the game and all that. Whatever that game was; it sure as fuck wasn't Survival of the Fittest, not right now.
Not that it was easy to keep her head anywhere what with this whole drunk thing she had going on.
Not to mention there was now a vast quantity of seawater running out of her nose as she tried desperately to stop sputtering. And the water rolling over her head was no doubt sending mascara streaming down her face. Okay, yeah, she was about 300% unattractive right now that doesn't even make sense and she was dead grateful she had tits because those were about all she had going for her. Not that Ema seemed to be complaining.
"Maybe this-"
The other girl really wasn't doing any better with the water. Though she still looked gorgeous from where Hayley was standing. Damn her. Again.
"-Wasn't a great idea?"
Well. Does that count as complaining? No, she's kind of...kind of right, if I'm gonna be honest with myself I wanted an excuse to get us naked- she coughed, expelling the last of the seawater. Not that I think Ema'd be surprised if I told her that. Oh, yeah, Ema, I was just being a conniving little skank- please, that's like my default mode of operation. She was kind of lost for what to say, though. Yeah, Ema, I'm a fucking idiot, let's go be naked on the beach- that'll do. Brilliant. What can I even-
And then Ema's lips were back on hers, and she felt considerably better about this whole thing.
For a second, anyway. Then it was strategy time. Fuck murder, really, that was simpler than this.
Her hands wandered. First one hand found the other girl's neck and the other in tangled in her hair, but that felt way too familiar, so then they wound up on her waist, but she cut that out after it made her become aware again of the stupid and now-stinging cuts on her own sides. So eventually her hands wound up on Ema's ass because dammit, I keep it classy.
Speaking of classy, Hayley's thoughts were now dedicated to getting Ema out of this godforsaken pair of underwear she'd insisted on leaving on. Naturally, because nothing could ever be easy and not-retarded in her life, she couldn't think of anything that wouldn't wind up with either one of them falling back in the water (her sinuses had been well and cleared up the saltwater and she did not need any more, thank you very much) or with Ema's panties ripped in half, which she figured Ema'd be kind of annoyed about in the morning. Goddamn me and my ideas.
You know what? Fuck it. It was her idea.
She broke off the kiss, which was really low on the list of things she wanted to do right now. Her hands (equally reluctant to move, really) moved back to Ema's.
"Yeah," she whispered. "Maybe it wasn't. Maybe we should go back to shore. And maybe we shouldn't go to sleep just yet."
Fuck yeah, again. Brilliant one-liner, probably. Or, uh, three-liner. ...Whatever.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
(Any and all GMing was approved, and no animals were harmed in the making of it.)
Hayley had looked unsure, to begin with. Having accepted alcohol, gotten soundly drunk with it, then stripped naked and run into the ocean, it was an unusual juncture to start having second thoughts, but that's how she looked. The expression seemed to become considerably less conflicted once Ema kissed her again, though. Reassured? Yeah, let's go with reassured. She wouldn't have suggested this if she wasn't comfortable with it, right? It didn't take long for the rhetorical question to be answered, either.
Hayley's hands found their way to her neck. Became entangled in her saturated hair. Pulled free, glided down the flesh of her torso to rest on her waist. Get your act together Ema. Ema followed suit, rather awkwardly at first. Last time this had happened, the two had been on a sofa, fully clothed, and in an environment where outright groping was kind of a faux pas. So her hands went first to Hayley's shoulders, that seemed safe enough. Safe isn't sexy, come on. Carefully, they moved further down. Carefully because of the scratches, opening wounds being a lot less sexy than caution.
Apparently, Hayley thought of the scratch part too. Not in a bad way. Drunkenness had kept Ema immodest so far, but a pair of hands so very casually sliding down even further prompted a flush of red to her otherwise pale face. She got over it, though, Because damnit this was my idea, I'm not being one-upped.
That thought was rather short lived, however. Hayley seemed to have hooked her fingers under the elastic of her panties, and all thoughts pertaining to anything other than Holy shit holy shit holy shit disappeared from Ema's mind quite promptly, and before she had time to lower her own hands, Hayley apparently thought better of trying to undress her any further. Their lips finally parted. Please don't be having second thoughts please don't be having second thoughts please please please let me get wha-- shut up Morrissey just please don't.
Then they were holding hands again, Ema held back a sigh of relief. It was obvious enough how desperate she was, didn't need to put another nail in the coffin.
"Yeah,"
That wasn't a 'Let's not do this' kind of whisper. Ema didn't hold back a smile.
"Maybe it wasn't. Maybe we should go back to shore. And maybe we shouldn't go to sleep just yet."
Ema could do nothing but nod eagerly. She didn't even care how it looked, she'd never heard more beautiful words in her life, or if she had, she didn't care to remember them. Hands still held tightly together, the two girls headed back inland, back to the haphazard pile of belongings. Ema would've gone for the towels they still had, something non-sandy to lay down on, something to dry off with at least. She would've, that is, if she wasn't already lying down.
Presumably it was meant to be a gentle push, something coercive, to urge Ema to the floor, not to outright floor her. But when Hayley pushed, Ema hadn't the balance nor the footing to stay standing, so down she went, landing with a soft thud on the sand. It wasn't long before Hayley was on the floor too, atop Ema, locking lips, running her hands along her sides, her abdomen, her chest. There wasn't any apprehension left in Ema herself, and with hands on autopilot, she responded in kind. But that didn't last long either, with Hayley moving away to lift up Ema's legs and Holyshitholyshitholyshit actually doing it this time remove her very last piece of clothing.
They landed with an even softer sound, somewhere to the right, Ema wasn't paying much attention really. She was too busy staring at Hayley, her face somewhere between anxious and hopeful. She hadn't been here before, this was not in her comfort zone, by any stretch of the imagination. Ema bit her lip, taking hold of Hayley's shoulders. Her eyes flitted between the other girl's face, and a short distance down from it. God, what's wrong with me, I haven't even touched them yet, she thought, though what she said was something more akin to the noise she made upon running into Hayley and Kyle a few nights prior. An unintelligible sort of wheeze, the noise of Ema having no idea how to articulate the mess of lust, apprehension and love? Fuck it, decide later. she was feeling.
She cleared her throat, tried again. The best she could manage was something like "Err.."
I am bloody pathetic.
Hayley had looked unsure, to begin with. Having accepted alcohol, gotten soundly drunk with it, then stripped naked and run into the ocean, it was an unusual juncture to start having second thoughts, but that's how she looked. The expression seemed to become considerably less conflicted once Ema kissed her again, though. Reassured? Yeah, let's go with reassured. She wouldn't have suggested this if she wasn't comfortable with it, right? It didn't take long for the rhetorical question to be answered, either.
Hayley's hands found their way to her neck. Became entangled in her saturated hair. Pulled free, glided down the flesh of her torso to rest on her waist. Get your act together Ema. Ema followed suit, rather awkwardly at first. Last time this had happened, the two had been on a sofa, fully clothed, and in an environment where outright groping was kind of a faux pas. So her hands went first to Hayley's shoulders, that seemed safe enough. Safe isn't sexy, come on. Carefully, they moved further down. Carefully because of the scratches, opening wounds being a lot less sexy than caution.
Apparently, Hayley thought of the scratch part too. Not in a bad way. Drunkenness had kept Ema immodest so far, but a pair of hands so very casually sliding down even further prompted a flush of red to her otherwise pale face. She got over it, though, Because damnit this was my idea, I'm not being one-upped.
That thought was rather short lived, however. Hayley seemed to have hooked her fingers under the elastic of her panties, and all thoughts pertaining to anything other than Holy shit holy shit holy shit disappeared from Ema's mind quite promptly, and before she had time to lower her own hands, Hayley apparently thought better of trying to undress her any further. Their lips finally parted. Please don't be having second thoughts please don't be having second thoughts please please please let me get wha-- shut up Morrissey just please don't.
Then they were holding hands again, Ema held back a sigh of relief. It was obvious enough how desperate she was, didn't need to put another nail in the coffin.
"Yeah,"
That wasn't a 'Let's not do this' kind of whisper. Ema didn't hold back a smile.
"Maybe it wasn't. Maybe we should go back to shore. And maybe we shouldn't go to sleep just yet."
Ema could do nothing but nod eagerly. She didn't even care how it looked, she'd never heard more beautiful words in her life, or if she had, she didn't care to remember them. Hands still held tightly together, the two girls headed back inland, back to the haphazard pile of belongings. Ema would've gone for the towels they still had, something non-sandy to lay down on, something to dry off with at least. She would've, that is, if she wasn't already lying down.
Presumably it was meant to be a gentle push, something coercive, to urge Ema to the floor, not to outright floor her. But when Hayley pushed, Ema hadn't the balance nor the footing to stay standing, so down she went, landing with a soft thud on the sand. It wasn't long before Hayley was on the floor too, atop Ema, locking lips, running her hands along her sides, her abdomen, her chest. There wasn't any apprehension left in Ema herself, and with hands on autopilot, she responded in kind. But that didn't last long either, with Hayley moving away to lift up Ema's legs and Holyshitholyshitholyshit actually doing it this time remove her very last piece of clothing.
They landed with an even softer sound, somewhere to the right, Ema wasn't paying much attention really. She was too busy staring at Hayley, her face somewhere between anxious and hopeful. She hadn't been here before, this was not in her comfort zone, by any stretch of the imagination. Ema bit her lip, taking hold of Hayley's shoulders. Her eyes flitted between the other girl's face, and a short distance down from it. God, what's wrong with me, I haven't even touched them yet, she thought, though what she said was something more akin to the noise she made upon running into Hayley and Kyle a few nights prior. An unintelligible sort of wheeze, the noise of Ema having no idea how to articulate the mess of lust, apprehension and love? Fuck it, decide later. she was feeling.
She cleared her throat, tried again. The best she could manage was something like "Err.."
I am bloody pathetic.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Chib. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.
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Hollyquin†
- Posts: 332
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 5:24 am
Right. Shore. That was a thing. Hayley kept her hands tight on Ema's as she maneuvered them both towards the sand, managing to keep her footing on the soft ground mostly because she had a rather strong motivation to do so. Fuck this up and it's all over, she thought. Welcome to another game of Don't Scare Off The Virgin. Which was a game Hayley was honestly very fond of, but it was a bit less fun when it seemed very unlikely that there'd ever be another chance for this. Scare off the virgin and die un-laid. Talk about high-stakes.
Actually, now that she thought about it, that should work in her favor. Who, boy or girl, wanted to die a virgin? No one. Exactly, no one. See, girly? It's not just you who wants this. That seemed so utterly unlikely, way too wishful-thinking, for her to immediately accept, but the overconfidence of her drunken brain was winning out. Look at her, does she look reluctant to you? No she does not. Exactly. Like I said, no one wants to die a virgin, and you're here being all gorgeous and fabulous and ex-girlfriendy and there you go, now this is happening. She doesn't die a virgin and you get to die happy. Easy.
...poor Kyle, thouSTOP THINKING ABOUT KYLE, DAMMIT.
Their feet were out of the water, now, their bodies dripping water on drier sand, and they had a destination in mind- their crappy little campsite, naturally, there were towels and things there, they could dry off, make a sort of...a sort of bed type thing-
Hayley didn't mean to knock Ema down. She really didn't, but sometimes a lot of the time if we're going to be honest her libido got ahead of her, and she really wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her hands off Ema anyway. So she wasn't exactly regretful when the other girl went down heh...oh, don't get ahead of yourself and there was only a split second's hesitation before she ended up on top of her.
For maybe a split second her overwhelming thought was oh fuck, SAND, and an internal, logical voice was saying how she'd probably regret not moving later. But fuck that, that thought was swept away pretty quickly by the warm body under hers, by the way the heat rushed through her as their lips reconnected. Her hands, they were doing what they felt like, touching every inch of Ema, marveling at how soft she was, she really hadn't been with a girl in so long, she'd nearly forgotten-
Her roaming fingers met the elastic of Ema's panties- my nemesis, we meet again -and this time, with no need for caution, she moved to give herself room to get the stupid things off. Flinging them in the general direction of the rest of their clothing, she climbed back on top, a smile forming on her face. The other girl's expression was less obvious. Nervous, definitely nervous, Hayley thought, not that that was a surprise, not really. It wasn't a bad sort of nervous, though, just a virginal oh shit this is really happening kind of nervous, which was kind of adorable. Hayley couldn't grudge her that, as eager as she was, and she loved Ema way too much to be frustrated at her inaction.
No, no thinking about love, not right now, that always ruins everything-
Ema's eyes went back and forth between two targets, and Hayley realized that Ema's hands had been (almost) everyone but there, which was unusual, she'd think that that would be her first target (and they are rather large targets). The noise that came out of her throat was worrying, too. Oh god is she having second thoughts no no no please let her not be having second thoughts, I will die of shame right here in the sand-
No, she's not having second thoughts, she's nervous, stop being freakishly paranoid.
"Err..."
Hayley blinked. A giggle escaped her throat and all paranoia went out with it. Urgh, virgins, so frustrating but so adorable.
"You're cute," she whispered, poking the other girl on the nose. "But...don't think. Feel."
Yeah, quote Bruce Lee, that's fucking hot.
Her brain shut up as their lips connected again, erasing all conscious thought from her brain. One of her hands continued its prior exploration; the other knew exactly what it was doing as it made its way to more forbidden places. There should be a manual on this. How to get the terminally inexperienced to stop freaking out: get them worked up enough that they forget they're supposed to be freaking out. Bloody brilliant, good show and all that, oh god brain shut up
She expertly located the nub of sensitive flesh she was looking for, and honestly, she was just craving a reaction as her fingers began to move in earnest circles.
Actually, now that she thought about it, that should work in her favor. Who, boy or girl, wanted to die a virgin? No one. Exactly, no one. See, girly? It's not just you who wants this. That seemed so utterly unlikely, way too wishful-thinking, for her to immediately accept, but the overconfidence of her drunken brain was winning out. Look at her, does she look reluctant to you? No she does not. Exactly. Like I said, no one wants to die a virgin, and you're here being all gorgeous and fabulous and ex-girlfriendy and there you go, now this is happening. She doesn't die a virgin and you get to die happy. Easy.
...poor Kyle, thouSTOP THINKING ABOUT KYLE, DAMMIT.
Their feet were out of the water, now, their bodies dripping water on drier sand, and they had a destination in mind- their crappy little campsite, naturally, there were towels and things there, they could dry off, make a sort of...a sort of bed type thing-
Hayley didn't mean to knock Ema down. She really didn't, but sometimes a lot of the time if we're going to be honest her libido got ahead of her, and she really wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her hands off Ema anyway. So she wasn't exactly regretful when the other girl went down heh...oh, don't get ahead of yourself and there was only a split second's hesitation before she ended up on top of her.
For maybe a split second her overwhelming thought was oh fuck, SAND, and an internal, logical voice was saying how she'd probably regret not moving later. But fuck that, that thought was swept away pretty quickly by the warm body under hers, by the way the heat rushed through her as their lips reconnected. Her hands, they were doing what they felt like, touching every inch of Ema, marveling at how soft she was, she really hadn't been with a girl in so long, she'd nearly forgotten-
Her roaming fingers met the elastic of Ema's panties- my nemesis, we meet again -and this time, with no need for caution, she moved to give herself room to get the stupid things off. Flinging them in the general direction of the rest of their clothing, she climbed back on top, a smile forming on her face. The other girl's expression was less obvious. Nervous, definitely nervous, Hayley thought, not that that was a surprise, not really. It wasn't a bad sort of nervous, though, just a virginal oh shit this is really happening kind of nervous, which was kind of adorable. Hayley couldn't grudge her that, as eager as she was, and she loved Ema way too much to be frustrated at her inaction.
No, no thinking about love, not right now, that always ruins everything-
Ema's eyes went back and forth between two targets, and Hayley realized that Ema's hands had been (almost) everyone but there, which was unusual, she'd think that that would be her first target (and they are rather large targets). The noise that came out of her throat was worrying, too. Oh god is she having second thoughts no no no please let her not be having second thoughts, I will die of shame right here in the sand-
No, she's not having second thoughts, she's nervous, stop being freakishly paranoid.
"Err..."
Hayley blinked. A giggle escaped her throat and all paranoia went out with it. Urgh, virgins, so frustrating but so adorable.
"You're cute," she whispered, poking the other girl on the nose. "But...don't think. Feel."
Yeah, quote Bruce Lee, that's fucking hot.
Her brain shut up as their lips connected again, erasing all conscious thought from her brain. One of her hands continued its prior exploration; the other knew exactly what it was doing as it made its way to more forbidden places. There should be a manual on this. How to get the terminally inexperienced to stop freaking out: get them worked up enough that they forget they're supposed to be freaking out. Bloody brilliant, good show and all that, oh god brain shut up
She expertly located the nub of sensitive flesh she was looking for, and honestly, she was just craving a reaction as her fingers began to move in earnest circles.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the handler Hollyquin. While this handler hasn't been around in quite a while, should they return and wish to take custody of this account and/or its posts, they are welcome to do so by contacting staff.