maskormenacelogs | 'cause i'm just holding on for tonight

( Good. That's that. Well, it's not that, it's not like it's done, but Sarah's out of harms way. As she stands side on to block her from the yelling dickhead and his friends as Sarah exits, Sarissa takes a bottle to her back, twists the second Sarah's out the door and shatter's a man's jaw. And then in a rapid-fire that escalated quickly she takes a punch to her jaw, falls on one knee, rises in the same motion as she knees some dickhead in the balls, and about a minute after Sarah's exit she follows - through the window, rather than the door.

After a couple seconds she pulls her hands from around her head and crawls over to Sarah, sitting back on her haunches like some kinda well-meaning labrador, and not some dickhead that just brawled a bunch of guys in a bar that are still pretty pissed. )

Hey. You okay?

( Like they have all the time in the world, and Sarissa hasn't just pissed off a whole lot of people. Like this is fine. )

Edited 2016-06-03 19:13 (UTC)

'M fine. [ She says, voice muffled, because her face is still in her hands. ] You oughta take off before someone calls the cops.

[ Because if there's one thing she wants even less than ending up in jail herself, for the second time in a week, it's getting one of her sisters arrested for some bullshit fight she started. ]

Yeah, probably. ( Okay, this is not going to go well if they take the time to talk out feelings and give Sarah a pep talk, so: ) I'm gonna pick you up, we can get outta here together. You alright with that?

( She's calm and she's quiet and she's steady in a way that she isn't normally, because the situation demands it and for once there's someone more raw and frayed than her about. )

The hell are you talking about?

[ Sarah finally lifts her head, staring over at Sarissa in mingled confusion and annoyance. Pick her up? Like she's some sort of goddamn child? Try it, just try it. No, really, try it, because she doesn't seem like she's about to go anywhere on her own. ]

Getting you out of here, you dickhead.

( It's like a loving pet name, practically. The plus side is that Sarissa is (mostly) sober and possessing enhanced strength, and Sarah is definitely lighter than a car. She bends, scoops an arm under Sarah's knees and the other about her back, and... wahay. Bridal style sister escape, or something. )

You're welcome.

Wha— [ No, okay, she's being lifted up. Okay, well. This is happening. This sure is happening.

Sarah tolerates being carried for maybe half a block, and then she starts struggling for Sarissa to drop her. She gives her about .5 seconds to do it, then snaps, ] Beth, what the fuck— [ And freezes. Because, oh shit. ]

Alright, Jesus.

( She stops to make sure Sarah at least has her feet on the ground, before glancing to her sidelong. )

Beth. Riss. Kinda similar, I guess?

[ Sarah takes her time trying to come up with a good excuse for what just happened, but she really, really can't. There's no normal way to tell somebody that they remind you a lot of a person that you've never actually met. And that this person occasionally shows up to torment you in your dreams. And that this person would also beat the shit out of some dickheads in a bar for you, or maybe not—maybe you've just invented that idea of them, because they've become this huge thing in your head that you'll never be able to let go of, to escape from, and you'll never be able to find out who they really were, because they died, and you stole their life, reinvented them, and now that's all you have left of them. An idea, and the face that you share. And that's part of why you're going crazy. ]

I—

[ She can't say any of that. ]

Forget it. I'm pissed.

Pissed like "fuck you Sarissa, you fucking moron" or pissed like... ( Sarissa attempts to think of a worthy and ridiculous comparison and comes up with approximately nothing. ) drunk?

( Both seem to apply, really, and she's hung out with Sarah enough that she's starting to get a little bit of a handle on when she's totally full of shit. Most of the time, she suspects, because she and Sarah seem to have an uncomfortable amount in common sometimes. )

Beth another...? ( trailed off, a question without an end as she starts strolling, tilting her head for Sarah to follow )

The second one. You helped me out. I owe you one.

[ She starts walking, closely enough that anyone watching would know they're together, but lagging the slightest bit behind Sarissa. She doesn't want to make eye contact right now. ]

She was, yeah. One of us.

We're family. Family doesn't owe family shit. You help each other because that's what family is supposed to do.

( It's terse and gentle at the same time, somehow. )

I'm not keeping a tally.

( And then it clicks. ) Was. Sorry.

Yeah. Shit happens. She's just one of many.

[ When fighting drunk Sarah turns into depressed drunk Sarah on a dime, making things weird and uncomfortable for everyone! ]

D'you—have you ever seen someone die? [ She continues without waiting for an answer. ] It's fucked, innit.

Hey. ( No, hang on. That's not on, and she turns to face Sarah, no matter how she might be trailing behind. ) Don't say that. Cos and Alison aren't just 'one of many.' They're people. You and me, we're people, not a bloody-- I don't know, empty can of coke or something.

( Sarissa shifts then, uncomfortable. ) Yeah. It is.

[ Sarah's brows furrow, first confused, then offended. She stops walking to keep Sarissa at the same distance and runs a hand through her messy hair. ]

'Course we're people. That's not what I meant.

So, what? What does 'she's just one of many' mean, then?

( For one she's at least a little calmer than usual, not pressing buttons or charging in and swinging blindly. )

Sounded kind of... culty, or something.

[ Sarah scoffs. If she sounds culty, it's only because they've been forced into forming their own. ]

I meant it literally. She's one of at least a dozen of us who're already dead.

[ Part of her's still waiting for Sarissa to make the smart decision and turn and run, never talk to any of them again. Sarah wouldn't blame her for it. ]

What, did we all collectively decide to date murderous psychotic devil women?

( That is so inappropriate and she is making a face at herself even as she wraps up the words, eyes shut and head canted to the side and something along the lines of oh, fuck you, Sarissa emblazoned across her face. )

Sorry.

( She just has no idea how to process. Her arms cross, and if you squint it might seem like she's hugging them around herself. Maybe. ) Fuck, Sarah.

Edited 2016-06-06 10:44 (UTC)

No—I shouldn't be saying all this shit to you. S'not fair.

[ She reaches up and rubs a hand over her face, roughly, smearing her eyeshadow. She just gets so tired of all this, and it never lets up. Even getting drunk doesn't stop it, clearly. Just makes it harder to stop herself from yelling about in public. ]

Well, we're here now. Body count disclosed.

( What's done is done, right? She nods her head towards a burger place further along the street. )

You need food?

( Meaning: Sarissa wants food. Nothing takes the edge of horrifying news quite so well as a greasy burger, fries and a vanilla shake, and she suspects Sarah could benefit from something that isn't booze swirling around her gut. )

[ Sarah follows Sarissa's nod and sighs heavily, more out of exhaustion than anything. Yeah, she should ingest something that isn't alcohol. Otherwise she'll be wrecked tomorrow. Probably will be, anyway, but what the hell. ]

I could eat something.

Okay. Great.

( she is beelining into the diner, holding the door open for Sarah, and before they even get a chance to sit Sarissa's saying to a serve, ) Two cheeseburgers, mozzarella sticks, two sides of onion rings and a vanilla shake.

( And a look to Sarah, then. ) What are you getting?

Uh.

[ Yeah, okay, she's too drunk and upset to pretend to read over a menu right now. ]

Same.

( wow okay Sarah
Sarissa looks to the server, who is perhaps understandably surprised, to add ) Glass of water and some aspirin too, if you've got 'em.

( Her smile is lopsided and she is claiming a booth for them before they can be shown to it. Tactical move; quick access to the bathroom and an escape route, clear view of the door and the window without being easily visible in turn. )

Come on. You're gonna love it, yeah? Sugar, grease, awesome seats that don't squeak every time you move— I come here a lot.

Yeah? If you like it, it can't be too shite, then.

[ What a compliment.

Sarah slouches into the booth opposite Sarissa and leans her elbows on the table so she can run both hands through her messy hair. ]

Thanks for this.

Don't give me too much credit. I was engaged to someone who tried to shoot me.

( A sigh, dramatic. ) No worries. Honestly, any excuse for onion rings. Maybe we can go pick another fight tomorrow, what do you think?

( But, okay, she pauses. ) I'm gonna spare you the, you know, long winded deep and meaningful wank. You want to talk about stuff or would you rather talk about anything else? Goldfish, or something.

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