Post by TRISTAN KAINE DRESDEN on Mar 19, 2013 10:30:56 GMT -5
Tristan was sat alone in his room, brooding. And feeling extremely delicate after the previous nights' antics. Parker had nipped out for…something, he couldn't quite remember what. Alcohol maybe? Cigarettes? Food...possibly. They had pretty much drunk their alcohol supplies dry the night before. Neither of them had had a good day; a drink had definitely been in order. He wasn't sure mixing vodka with wine with tequila with cider had been such a great idea…but hey, the hangover would wear off eventually.
A notepad and pen were on the desk in front of him, just sitting there. A few doodles were dotted on the pages of the notebook, but there was nothing of import or decency written down. Not exactly what Tristan had wanted, but his brain didn't seem to want to function. Last night he had been full of ideas, spewing off random quotes and stories to an ever-increasingly drunk Parker who would either shout and swear at him to shut up, or join in enthusiastically and insist that everything be written down. The fact that neither of them had been anywhere near coherent enough to hold a pen, let alone write was not the point. When he had woken up this morning…this afternoon even, all the ideas had gone. His brain had emptied itself and was refusing to cooperate.
Sighing, he turned away from his desk and wandered over to where his camera was perched on a high shelf. He knew it had been used last night…did he really want to see what they had gotten up to once all logical thought and sensibility had deserted them? And god knows how he had managed to get it back up on the top shelf without damaging it. His balance had been completely shot last night. The massive bruise currently colouring his left shoulder and back were enough evidence of that. and there seemed to be a large mark (or was it dent...?) in the bathroom wall next to sink. It seemed to fit the shape of his shoulder perfectly, which was a little worrying as he had no recollection whatsoever of colliding with any type of wall last night.
Going back to the camera, he could see that half the pictures were blurry, indistinct smudges on the screen, nothing worth keeping. He kept catching glimpses of Parker’s inane grin as he swigged from a bottle, replaying in his head the music they had had blaring out for most of the night. The neighbours probably hated them today.
There were a few quality shots. He’d managed to capture Parker sat in front of their roaring log fire in the living room, a bottle dangling half empty from his right hand whilst his left lay casually over his crossed legs. He was staring into the flames, a distant look on his face as though he had momentarily forgotten Tristan was even there. That photo was definitely a keeper.
It also proved that they had definitely lit the log fire last night, and that the burning smell that seemed to be lingering in the living room was nothing dangerous, nor just a figment of Tristan's imagination.
Putting the camera down, he decided to go make himself a cup of coffee and sandwich. His stomach should be able to handle solids by now. Hopefully Parker would come back with something reasonably edible, as well as a new stash of alcohol for them. He’d await his return in the living room, so long as it was in a reasonably good enough state to sit in....
A notepad and pen were on the desk in front of him, just sitting there. A few doodles were dotted on the pages of the notebook, but there was nothing of import or decency written down. Not exactly what Tristan had wanted, but his brain didn't seem to want to function. Last night he had been full of ideas, spewing off random quotes and stories to an ever-increasingly drunk Parker who would either shout and swear at him to shut up, or join in enthusiastically and insist that everything be written down. The fact that neither of them had been anywhere near coherent enough to hold a pen, let alone write was not the point. When he had woken up this morning…this afternoon even, all the ideas had gone. His brain had emptied itself and was refusing to cooperate.
Sighing, he turned away from his desk and wandered over to where his camera was perched on a high shelf. He knew it had been used last night…did he really want to see what they had gotten up to once all logical thought and sensibility had deserted them? And god knows how he had managed to get it back up on the top shelf without damaging it. His balance had been completely shot last night. The massive bruise currently colouring his left shoulder and back were enough evidence of that. and there seemed to be a large mark (or was it dent...?) in the bathroom wall next to sink. It seemed to fit the shape of his shoulder perfectly, which was a little worrying as he had no recollection whatsoever of colliding with any type of wall last night.
Going back to the camera, he could see that half the pictures were blurry, indistinct smudges on the screen, nothing worth keeping. He kept catching glimpses of Parker’s inane grin as he swigged from a bottle, replaying in his head the music they had had blaring out for most of the night. The neighbours probably hated them today.
There were a few quality shots. He’d managed to capture Parker sat in front of their roaring log fire in the living room, a bottle dangling half empty from his right hand whilst his left lay casually over his crossed legs. He was staring into the flames, a distant look on his face as though he had momentarily forgotten Tristan was even there. That photo was definitely a keeper.
It also proved that they had definitely lit the log fire last night, and that the burning smell that seemed to be lingering in the living room was nothing dangerous, nor just a figment of Tristan's imagination.
Putting the camera down, he decided to go make himself a cup of coffee and sandwich. His stomach should be able to handle solids by now. Hopefully Parker would come back with something reasonably edible, as well as a new stash of alcohol for them. He’d await his return in the living room, so long as it was in a reasonably good enough state to sit in....
