#a:drabble

[r-lath-ma-vhenan]

Untitled

Anemone’s audition --

She couldn't feel her legs. . . her arms. Where were her eyes? Her lungs? She needed to breathe but the pressure was too much as her body adjusted. If this took too long, her organs could fail causing her to die. Was this it? Was she going to die? The smell of burning fuel infiltrated nostrils, and then realizing she was finally breathing her mouth opened to gulp down polluted air caused by her wrecked ship. A sputtering cough consumed her, her body reluctant to move so violently from the dramatic convulsing of her lungs trying to purify. It took her several long moments to manage a simple roll on her side, twisting at the waist; still unable to move her legs at the moment. A soft whimper exhumed after she seemed to be finished.

Tongue lulled over bottom tier as a small dribble of spit decorated her chin. She tasted her blood, the flavor similar to something floral like the flower of some kind of fruit. Blue hues rolled upward to the jagged metal of her broken vessel obscuring the stars overhead, vaguely wondering if she should move incase of a collapse -- which then made her look towards her legs. She was finally gaining the feeling back into them but only because it was painful, a chrome hunk of hardware and sparking mechanics keeping them captive beneath their weight. Wincing, Anemone strained her hardest to pull them free with no avail.

This occupied her for the majority of the time.. that was until she noticed someone running over the sand towards her. She had just gotten herself free when anxiety shot through her system, killing the joy of liberating her limbs. For some reason this didn't seem right, this entity coming up fast with that wild look in his eyes and that wide grin of fantastic discovery. She knew that look. She saw it all the time when her kind traveled to other planets for the vast knowledge they held.

Fight or flight! She was an ecologist for crying out loud, she knew exactly what this was. Discovery, sample, experiment and research. Nails clawed at the sooty dirt as she attempted to scramble into a sitting position but everything hurt; not just her limbs, but her ribs were sore and her head was throbbing so violently with her sudden panic that her vision blurred.

"I knew it, I fuckin' knew it!" His tone was exasperated and loud, a hysterical laugh following his words of exclamation.

He was getting closer now, yelling noises she didn't understand, but seeing that it was coming from the hole in his face she figured he was trying to communicate. Pausing, she sent out her thoughts, needing to connect with him so she could make him understand that she needed help so she could go home. That she wasn't here to stay. But there was a mental wall blocking her, probably because they weren't the same species but this made her more frantic in her actions as she finally managed a kneeling position.

Palms splayed upward, instinctually signing a passive signal, some sort of submission so he wouldn't hurt her. If he touched her. . . she'd aim for his eyes with her claws; large, cerulean irises watching his approach with growing anticipation.

[azkadamnrp]

Sedated

I'm somewhere outside my life, babe I keep scratching but somehow I can't get in

He had been sitting there, staring at the bottle for an hour. It was like the stupid glass container was mocking him, daring him to take a drink, just give in. He knew he would, eventually. They both knew it, at least, that’s what the bottle was telling him. Aiden always had surrendered to the call of the alcohol eventually. There was just too much in his life that he didn’t want to deal with, that he couldn’t bear to think about anymore.

First there had been Edgar’s death. That was the most important one, the one that would have been devastating all on its own. His best friend, the man who had been by his side since he was six years old, who had stood with him as they learned about girls and Quidditch and how to control their magic, was gone. Aiden felt cheated, and when he finally sobered up enough to think about it, he realized two things: he was mad at Edgar for not protecting himself better, and he was mad at himself for not being there to die at Edgar’s side. What was the point of being a Quidditch star if Edgar wasn’t around to cheer him on? He had died for this fucking war that meant nothing, a war over blood and magic. As if he and Edgar weren’t as close as possible regardless of the fact that they didn’t share blood, as if magic was a consumable resource that grew weaker as more people entered their world. Bloody ridiculous.

And Aiden hadn’t been there to die with him. Some best mate he was.

So he went right back into the bottle. He wasn’t there for Mia like he should have been, even when Cameron disappeared. Reese came by and kicked him into gear, and made him visit Edgar’s grave for the first -- and only -- time. When he was booted from Puddlemere, he barely took notice; he hadn’t been going to practices and was barely making it to games sober enough to get on his broom. Rosie tried, she tried so hard to reach him, but he wouldn’t let her. Aiden was hell-bent on drinking himself to death, and if he couldn’t do that, to at least stay drunk enough to forget that he was empty. She eventually gave up trying, and he didn’t even blink when she left.

Then came the news that the Potters had died, and everyone in their world was celebrating, everyone except for Aiden. He had let Lily go back to her life, she had married Potter, and then they went down fighting the Dark Lord, another family lost to the cause.

His mother wanted to be there for him, but he made it clear he didn’t want her. The look on Dia’s face when Aiden told her to stop baking for him was almost enough to make him sorry, but then he went back to his apartment and drank an entire bottle of firewhiskey before passing out in the shower. He assumed that she had told his sisters to stay away too, for they had eventually given up owling and inviting him to family affairs.

The only person who had continued to come around, despite his surly temper and his constant state of intoxication was Emmeline. She started to bring groceries by and ignored him when he told her to leave. When he threw a plate at her (which hit the wall over three feet away from her -- his aim was ruined by the alcohol), she aimed a body-bind jinx at him and left him there while she cooked dinner. When she removed the jinx, she had tears streaming down her face, but she didn’t say anything. Emmeline barely even looked at him, and Aiden felt ashamed. She wasn’t here for him, and he knew it. She was here because Edgar wouldn’t have wanted Aiden to live like this, and someone had to honor him. After she left, he sat down and ate his first hot meal in months, and he didn’t tell her to go away after that. 

And so Aiden had spent the next two and a half years alone, and drunk, with only Emmeline to keep him occasional company, and even then, they didn’t speak to each other very much. 

When Edgar had come back, just shown up on his door one day, Aiden had punched him. He hadn’t known what to think, had assumed that someone had gotten ahold of Edgar’s hair and was using polyjuice as a cruel and twisted joke, but then the man had stayed for the rest of the day and only drank what Aiden gave him. When he finally believed that it was real, all he could do was cry. He didn’t even feel self-conscious, just curled up in Edgar’s lap and sobbed for hours until he had to leave. After that, he didn’t know what to think or do. He had spent years only coming out of the bottle enough that he could feed himself, and now he was supposed to be fine? His best mate was alive, and so were a bunch of others, but alcohol was a part of him now. It was his habit, it was an old friend that had filled the void when so many had left. How was he supposed to give that up?

Well, he tried. And when it failed, he tried again. After he succumbed that time, Edgar had found him and made him sober up, and but when he went home, Aiden had taken a shot of whiskey to celebrate his sobriety. The next morning, he was ashamed and dumped all of his alcohol into the sink in a fit of rage, but then he found a bottle of nettle wine hidden in the pantry and downed it. Back and forth, he went like this, for weeks. He would buy more alcohol to replace what he had thrown away and end up pouring it down the drain. Every time he swore it would be the last, but every time, it wasn’t. He was weak, and he hated himself for it. 

But he had to get over it, had to be strong enough to break the cycle. He had finally realized he couldn’t do it alone, so he stood, leaving the bottle and it’s promises of numbness sitting on the counter. Without stopping -- for if he stopped, he would lose his courage -- he went to the hall closet and pulled out a cloak. He should have owled, but he thought he would chicken out if he paused, so instead he would show up without warning. He didn’t think his mother would mind. Aiden took one last look at the bottle and apparated to the Morgane house. For the first time in years, Aiden was going home. 

[asyhana]

Misunderstandings

asy-jiyong Jikachu and Tiger Lily drabble

Tiger Lily had their hood up on their head, walking around with one of Hana’s stuffies that Sungmin had gotten her. They wanted to play with Stitch but Quiet-oppa got it for Hana and they didn’t touch it cause it Hana kept Stitch next to her all the time and and the bunny in their arms was the only thing they managed to hide for themselves and get to share with Hana. They were in the middle of the lobby floor, playing with the ears when someone ran at them with a big grin.

“UMMA!!!”

Tiger Lily looked up with a shocked look on their face only to get one in return.

“Who are you?”

“We’re Tiger Lily. We’re 5. Who are you?” 

“Jikachu..... I’m 6......” Jikachu plopped down on the floor in front of Tiger Lily, a massive frown and pout mixed on his face. “Where’s umma? You’re not umma.”

“We don’t know who umma is. We’re Tiger Lily.”

“Who’s we? I only see you.”

Tiger Lily tilted their head. “We is us. Tiger Lily. We are Tiger Lily.”

“But I only see you!” Jikachu whined. 

“You see us!”

“But it’s just you!”

“Quiet down over there!” one of the nurses called out, Tiger Lily and Jikachu both getting pouts and bowing their heads, starting to whisper.

“Is that the bunny’s name, too?”

Tiger Lily shook their head, flopping the bunny’s ear. “The bunny is Floppy. We’re Tiger Lily. Who’s that?” Tiger Lily asked pointing to the action figure in his hands.

“It’s my Gundam!” Jikachu said, a bit offended. “You should know what it is!”

Tiger Lily shook their head, causing Jikachu to frown. “I want umma. You’re no fun.”

Tiger Lily stared to frown and punched Jikachu’s arm. “You’re no fun!”

Jikachu blinked, lip starting to wibble as tears formed in his eyes. Soon, he started to wail, the nurse at the nurses’ station at a loss as to wait was going on. “You’re meeeeeean! I want umma! Give me umma!”

Tiger Lily had their hands on their ears, eyes closing tight. “Numa! Make him stop! He’s loud!”

“He’s only loud because you punched him,” Athenais sighed, pulling Tiger Lily’s hood off her head and moving to sit on her knees, touching the top of Jikachu’s head. “Now, now, sweet boy. Umma’s right here.”

“That kid is mean, umma!”

Athenais laughed softly, shaking her head. “Tiger Lily isn’t used to other kids, my little one. I’ll make sure they apologize. But in the mean time, how about some ice cream? Or some cake? Would that help?”

Jikachu sniffled, holding out his hand for Athenais to take. She smiled, helping the two of them stand. “Let’s get you some ice cream then, petit.”

[azkadamnrp]

BEANS

Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans never fail to entertain.After popping one into their mouth, what sweet sensations (if any) does your character experience?

Aiden had arguably the biggest sweet tooth of anyone in his entire family. As a young child, his sisters would often convince him to come sit in their laps by giving him chocolate, and his mother would always pretend to not see him scarfing it down, even if it was right before dinner. It didn’t have to be chocolate, and he was always willing to try new sweets.

When he was eight, his oldest sister Addison’s current boyfriend thought it would be funny to introduce Aiden to Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans without telling him what they were. Left alone in the living room for a few minutes, the boy handed him the box. “Heard you’ve got a liking for sweets. Try these. They’re my favorite.”

Aiden could barely contain his glee as he ripped off the cellophane wrapping and popped the box open. He filled his little hand with a small handful of the sweets, and then picked a nice green coloured one and threw it into his mouth. Instantly, his tongue was bombarded with the taste of freshly-mowed grass, and the look on his face must have shown his distaste, for the boyfriend began to cackle as Aiden’s eyes filled with tears. Rather than the typical eight-year-old response of spitting something out that tastes horrid, Aiden (who had been congratulated on his manners by his very proper and ancient great-great-grandmum) suffered through it and chewed the bean until he could swallow it.

It was that moment that Addison walked back into the room, finding her crying baby brother and her laughing boyfriend, whose laughter quickly dissolved into apologetic sputtering. Addison was furious, and ignored him to pull a still-sniffling Aiden into the kitchen so he could get some water to drown the taste of grass out of his mouth. Without a word, she sat him at the counter, pulling a glass down from the cupboard and filling it with water. Addison set the water in front of Aiden, and then ruffled his hair affectionately before storming back off into the living room. Aiden could tell by the sudden silence from the living room that his sister had thrown up a silencing charm around the room, and she was likely screaming at her boyfriend. Needless to say, he did not stay for dinner, not that Aiden minded, and Addison gave him half of her dessert that night. All in all, the day was a success.

Aiden hasn’t touched another box of Bertie Bott’s since.