[.} trouble stomping {.][>open<]
Jan 1, 2011 1:52:26 GMT -5
Post by WT on Jan 1, 2011 1:52:26 GMT -5
"You killed my stash!"
"-stumbling out of the house looking like a disgraced District Six victor. Your brother got into them yesterday, Willow, did-"
"Don't call me Willow!" A good part of that was an attempt to cover the fact that she truly was shaken. As little as she wanted anyone messing with her own drugs, she didn't want them for Chepi. Not their risks, not their pains.
"Do you even-"
"Fuck you!" Will slammed the door so hard behind her that her entire body, down to the fringe of her red shirt, shook with the effort of it. It was hard to tell, since she was trembling anyway from everything else- anger at Nikita, worry for Chepi, desperation for a fix, irrational urges to sob and pummel the nearest person. She stormed down to the street, hoping that stomping around would be calming, but it did nothing to help. Indeed, the newfound ache in her feet just made her even angrier.
So, snarling at the ground and muttering darkly under her breath, she made her way toward the busier portions of town. She wasn't planning on going anywhere, really- although once she got to thinking about it, she realized stopping by a club to pick up some more ecstasy wouldn't be a bad idea- but she figured that she had a better chance of finding someone to pick on in town than in her neighborhood.
Her wish was granted after just a few minutes, when she rammed into someone trying to use the same sidewalk. Careless of being in the way of everything, she stopped and grabbed them. Fist half-raised, poised so she didn't fall if they broke free, she snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you?" She didn't even bother looking at the stranger- they were only an outlet, after all.
"-stumbling out of the house looking like a disgraced District Six victor. Your brother got into them yesterday, Willow, did-"
"Don't call me Willow!" A good part of that was an attempt to cover the fact that she truly was shaken. As little as she wanted anyone messing with her own drugs, she didn't want them for Chepi. Not their risks, not their pains.
"Do you even-"
"Fuck you!" Will slammed the door so hard behind her that her entire body, down to the fringe of her red shirt, shook with the effort of it. It was hard to tell, since she was trembling anyway from everything else- anger at Nikita, worry for Chepi, desperation for a fix, irrational urges to sob and pummel the nearest person. She stormed down to the street, hoping that stomping around would be calming, but it did nothing to help. Indeed, the newfound ache in her feet just made her even angrier.
So, snarling at the ground and muttering darkly under her breath, she made her way toward the busier portions of town. She wasn't planning on going anywhere, really- although once she got to thinking about it, she realized stopping by a club to pick up some more ecstasy wouldn't be a bad idea- but she figured that she had a better chance of finding someone to pick on in town than in her neighborhood.
Her wish was granted after just a few minutes, when she rammed into someone trying to use the same sidewalk. Careless of being in the way of everything, she stopped and grabbed them. Fist half-raised, poised so she didn't fall if they broke free, she snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you?" She didn't even bother looking at the stranger- they were only an outlet, after all.
