maskormenacelogs | openish ø talking in my sleep at night, making myself crazy

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openish ø talking in my sleep at night, making myself crazy

WHO: beth + all the people!
WHERE: all the time!
WHEN: all the time!
WHAT: ya classic catch-all, fam - buzz me via pm or at

sharknado
WARNINGS: general mentions of drug/alcohol abuse, possible mentions of violent murder, past child abuse ( will alert in subject lines for specific warnings if/when relevant )

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( It might be a little strange to think that months into arriving in this weird "alt-Earth' Beth still hasn't met the people who share her accomodations, but honestly given her daily habits it's hardly surprising. She comes and goes at odd hours, sleeps too late and mostly keeps to her own spaces even when she is around. There's been no effort to make contact on her part at all, even straight up deliberate evasion at times. It makes sense that she's been able to keep to herself for this long - but the luck had to run out at some point.

It's a reasonable time of day to be eating, the house is quiet and Beth is very lazily considering the idea of actually making some food, which is to say she's pushing things around in the fridge and hoping that something requiring little to no assembly will jump out at her. It hasn't happened yet, unsurprisingly, and the only thing that ends up pulled out of the fridge is a bottle of beer. Maybe the cupboards are going to be more helpful.

( They aren't. )

Normally she's pretty good at picking up on the sound of someone entering the house and making herself scarce, but there's a number of reasons why that doesn't work out on this particular day. The week has been...stressful, to say the least. The medication 'treating the pain' of a shoulder injury long since healed dulls the extra warning systems that come with her fancy (but ultimately quite useless) power, courtesy of the weird forces that dragged her to weird alt-Earth. By the time she notices footsteps, it's far too late to get out unspotted, and rather than make an embarrassing show of trying to scarper out of the room like some skittish rodent, she just stays her ground. Why not now? It's not like things can get any worse. )

So, ( She aims for casual, slugging a good mouthful of the beer before grinning vaguely, as if she hasn't spent the last ten weeks deliberately remaining unacquainted. ) we meet at last.

Edited 2017-09-11 08:56 (UTC)

( Jess likes to drink. Beth likes to drink. Unsurprisingly, this means that their paths have crossed prior to this moment. There's never been any direct interaction before now, and largely this is all quite an underwhelming prelude - at least until you factor in the near-identical likeness Beth shares with Jess's girlfriend, anyway.

She isn't drunk yet, a disappointing observation that Beth makes as she drains the last of her glass and sets it back down onto the bar. That's not especially unusual, problem drinking tends to go hand in hand with a slowly increasing tolerance, but she's not impressed all the same. The whole evening feels a little off, actually. She normally likes drinking in Nonah, almost exclusively for the short travel time, but this place isn't doing it for her. the music isn't right, the people are wrong, even the seat isn't right any more. With some grumbling and tossing of bills down on the counter, Beth is all good and ready to make herself scarce.

It's also not especially unusual for Beth to knock into people after a few hours in the various bars pubs and other venues in the Import cities, but despite her size and frame working against her she's typically quite good at standing her ground at the very least. Beth Childs makes her exit right as Jessica Jones is making an entrance, and the collision isn't anything especially dramatic but it certainly causes Beth to stumble. Weird. )

I wouldn't bother, ( Beth informs her, with a wry smirk and a dry delivery that leaves it very hard to tell whether or not she's actually being serious. ) the place down the road wipes the floor with this one. Trust me.

( And how couldn't you, with a face like this? )

[ the evening started out simple enough — jessica jones is tired and in desperate need of a drink, as usual. so she heads inside a local bar. it's a dump, but she's used to that by now. one moment, she's moving past the entrance, and the next, there's an abrupt collision.

shit. jessica mumbles a curse underneath her breath at the impact, though she's none the worse for wear. however, her eyes widen once she sees the stranger, and the resemblance is so uncanny that she freezes in place for a few seconds. ]

Sa— [ sarissa or sarah? no, neither. their faces are identical, but her voice and demeanor are different. jess swallows hard, her gaze never drifting from the other woman's expression. ] Who are you?

( Given her usual schedule, it's not immediately obvious that anything has changed for Beth. She's still barely competent at best in her work, still secluded and avoidant in her shared house, and still frequenting bars more than any other business in Nonah, and it's all very normal - except for the part where it absolutely, totally isn't.

She doesn't typically make a habit to get much more than a little drunk while out of the house, aiming for buzzed but still able to make her way home alone. This particular evening all of those bets are off, and Beth has long since lost count of how many drinks she's downed since loudly declaring her desire to "keep them coming, barkeep". The decision on whether or not to leave has been on her mind for at least three drinks now, but she's obviously yet to come to any real conclusion. Instead she just keeps raising the glass, frown increasing more and more until--

yeah, that sure is someone else's drink she's knocked over.

A stream of expletives and apologies leave Beth's mouth as she starts tossing napkins on top of the spreading liquid, and she would normally be game to take on whatever reaction an action like that would earn. God knows she's let people have it for knocking over her glass in times gone by, it would only really be fair to expect the same kind of response. And yet, things don't even get a chance to develop that far, because all of a sudden Beth's face straight up crumples. )

Sorry, sorry, ( There's still time to save this! She tries to force out a laugh, but something catches in her throat, and nope. There's no time to save it, and her eyes start to shine with the very real effort of holding in her Feelings. ) ...it's been a really bad week.

Hey!

[ --Is really all Ray has time to exclaim, because Beth is already on it. Not that he's really the kind of person who'd start screaming at a stranger for an obvious accident, anyway; that's an honor usually only reserved for his friends.

Ray moves the upended glass out of the way and begins to help with mopping up the mess, about to say something reassuring without necessarily inviting further conversation, but then her face begins to fall and Ray immediately panics internally, wondering for a second if that's his fault (but he hadn't sounded that annoyed, had he...??)-- so what a strange relief to hear it has nothing to do with him. ]

No, no! Oh my God! It's fine, don't even worry about it I'll just order another one!

[ He's talking a little fast by the end there, waving a hand as appeasingly as he can while also wiping the counter, but... like, she's definitely about to cry, though. Yikes. Better keep talking?? Because suddenly, he's involved in this. ]

Uh... but if it helps, I think that's been going around. [ Having a bad week, that is. ] Are you new in town too?

( She's not about to cry!! ...Except she totally is, and Beth is holding it together but only by a thread. It's been one hell of a bad week, that's for sure.

Normally she'd be horrified at the idea of even looking sad in front of another person, let alone sitting here with honest to god tears threatening quite dangerously to escape any second, but it's hard to be that concerned by it all right now. She does stop dabbing at the bar though, and instead rubs a hand over her face quickly. )

Not really, it's been a few months. ( She's so tired, that's the problem here. Putting on any kind of front, friendly or otherwise, would be a lot easier if she could get some damn sleep. ) Oh god, are you? This isn't your first bar trip in this weird ass Earth, is it?

[ Months? That's concerning... mostly because if things still don't get better at that point down the line, Ray isn't sure how optimistic he'll be able to stay about this place. Still, he reaches toward his breast pocket to offer her his handkerchief -- because yes, he carries one -- but then decides to offer her a clean napkin instead, shaking his head. ]

Please. [ With a small, dismissive wave of his hand.] I got that outta the way my first day here like any sane person would-- so you're good. Trust me, this isn't even my first spilled drink... and at least it wasn't on me.

[ Ray flags the bartender to order a new drink, then leans an elbow against the (now clean) counter as he turns back to Beth. And speaking of spilling: ]

So what's on your mind, honey?

( The good news: Beth isn't drinking in Nonah any more.

The bad news: Beth is drinking in Maurtia Falls instead.

She actually doesn't have much of a preference for the import cities one way or the other. None of them are home and none of them will ever be, and if she never spends too much time in one in particular then there's no danger of her feeling settled, right? At least that's the logic behind it, anyway. She continues to fumble her own personal rule of never getting stumble-level drunk outside of the house though, and Maurtia Falls is a lot further from home than usual.

So....clearly she just needs to stick around.

There's someone else alone here, sticking out amongst the pairs and groups, and she heads over. Her voice doesn't slur, but there's certainly something off when she drops down heavily into the stool beside him, two glasses in her hands. )

This probably looks misleading, they're both for me. ( She starts, and then grins and slides one over. It's not the best imitation of a happy person she's ever done, but given the circumstances this is about as good as it's going to get. ) I'm not that much of a dick, that was a joke.

( Hilarious, Beth. Top notch banter right here. )

[Listen, Foggy hasn't been having the best week so far. There's only so much distracting he can do before he has to confront the fact that he is, essentially, stuck in a completely different universe with no credentials, no license, no family and friends, nothing. Yes, he's got a job, but it's not—it's not the one he had, back in New York.

God, that phrase, right? Back in New York, back home, back where he's supposed to be. Back with Matt and Karen and the firm. He misses them so much, and. Well. Here he is at a bar, working slowly but surely into a drunken state.

He downs his shot, tries to pour another and gets nothing. That's when a woman appears with two glasses and a bad joke, but it startles a tired laugh out of Foggy anyway, because it's that kind of night.]

Oh, good, I was going to sue you for emotional distress. [A pause, and Foggy smiles back at her. It's a very sad smile.] No, I'm kidding, I know it was a joke.

( Success, he laughed! Granted it's about as good a charade of happiness as Beth is managing right about now, but she'll still take the win. Besides, misery loves company. It's a thing. She takes a quick (large) mouthful from the glass that she kept for herself, and at least her smirk is real. Heartbroken or not, sarcasm is always somewhere there in Beth's make up. )

I don't think you'd have much of a case. ( There's not as much of a "cops versus lawyers" attitude up in her neck of the woods, thankfully, but she finds the comment amusing all the same. She's pretty sure she had a case thrown out where the defence said exactly that. ) Who's to say i was even here...............I didn't catch your name.

( Because she didn't ask, but that's beside the point. Another quick swig, a shrug of her shoulders, and then she offers out a hand to shake. Very formal, very classy, for a woman necking spirits in an establishment only barely nicer than a complete and utter dive bar. )

Beth.

I could be really persuasive, you don't know that.

[Foggy's more likely to play into the "cops VS lawyers" dynamic, himself, but there's a time and place for that and right now, this isn't it. So he lets it drop, instead taking a sip. The alcohol goes down easier than it probably should, but he can't quite bring himself to care about that. Anyway, that's kind of the point of being here, right?

He smiles, more genuinely this time, at Beth, and takes her hand and gives a firm shake. Professional, lawyerly, the kind you practice till it's an ingrained reaction.] Foggy. [Yes. Really. See why the handshake's so professional?] Nice to meet you, Beth.

[He lets go just as quickly.]

So what brings you to this—[he waves a hand aimlessly about, to indicate the bikers playing pool, the drunks passed out on tables, the drinking contest in the corner, the bar in general]—fine establishment?

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openish ø talking in my sleep at night, making myself crazy

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