Alcoholic Remedies (Kayla)

((OOC- If she does get reaped, wouldn't Flight make the perfect sponsor. *hint, hint* XD))

Dwyn's eyes tighten slightly at Flight's words. Really it wasn't her fault Dwyn's head hurt so bad. Dwyn knew perfectly well why that was, and she wasn't stupid or lazy enough to pin it on anyone else. Besides, she'd still do the same things she did last night if the opportunity arose. Though this time she might ignore the jealous friends on the dance floor. It seemed they could get annoying later. A sigh escapes her at that thought. Then she looks back at Flight, her small smile apologetic. "I'm sorry. My head hurts... more than usual."

She sits heavily on the bed, putting her head in her hands. Sometimes hangovers didn't seem worth being tipsy and moral-less, not that Dwyn had ever had many morals. Morals and a conscience were for boring people, and boring she was not. Then the pounding on the door and Flight's answering words bring a slight smile to her face. Two tempers in one room, with one victim? Things could get fun, though she might regret hurting Kaleb later. He really did care, or at least it seemed that way. She just didn't want his caring or sympathy or whatever it was that kept him banging on the door.

A shriek of rage and a crash makes Dwyn's smile wider. The bed jumps as Flight's body slams into it. Dwyn's answering grin is devilish. "How'd our fun go so sour, eh love?" She pats Flight's head patronizingly, her smile the usual sly grin. Her headache might go away if she had a suitable distraction... but Flight didn't seem to be in the mood and Dwyn was only just starting to get there. And she was sure Kaleb would just come knocking once again. Some people were just insanely irritating.

Dwyn must admit, the massage did feel nice. She just didn't see how someone like Flight, her physcho murdering best friend, was capable of such a gesture. It put a smirk on her face. "You learn something new everyday." she thought too herself, now enjoying Flight's hands. They were relaxing for once, doing a bit to nullify her headache. It was nice and a contented sigh escaped Dwyn, especially when it seemed like Kaleb had given up. That was good, very good.

At Flight's words Dwyn snorts, amused. "Yes, because I just ooze cuddliness, 'specially when I'm breaking into your house with a dagger in my hand. The poor victims always want to give me a hug and talk with me." The sarcasm in Dwyn's voice was heavy enough to sink a ship. She didn't try to be nice, to attract people's attention. Not in that way anyways. She'd gladly be intimidating, mysterious, sexy even. But nice was never her thing. She'd never been treated kingly so why should she treat anyone else with it?

((OOC-Sorry for the shortness but I'm beat and I can't think straight. I promise the next few will be better. *pinky swear*))

((OOC- Righto, my writing is probably a bit stiff but I worked all night on this post so you'd better like it. I can't believe how much I took my computer for granted. *scolds the virus that screwed it up in the first place* Nasty thing. But now I'm back and this here magnificent post proves it. I hope.))

"With my aim, you wouldn't make it to the alley. If I were you, well if I were you I wouldn't be hugging the likes of me but lets say I did. I would then immediately start seducing, instead of running uselessly. It's a waste of valuable energy that can be used for... other things." Dwyn's voice is a purr, for once relaxed and content. It was amazing how quickly the atmosphere in the room went from tense to the exact opposite. But that's what happened when both of them were probably verging on being bipolar.

A slight shiver travels up Dwyn's spine as Flight's fingers dance across her stomach. She was very ticklish, not that anyone knew that. No one had ever touched her like that before. It wasn't the usual mysterious but meaningless touch of those used just as entertainment. Flight was, most definitely, Dwyn's one and only friend. She had trouble letting people in, it just wasn't something she did. Maybe it was from having to fend for herself, nobody there as support. To have Flight there, here, was oddly refreshing.

"Spontaneous combust? More like spontaneous murder." A smile crosses Dwyn's face. "And don't tell me you wouldn't do the same thing if I came at you with a grin plastered on my face and my arms open wide." Just the thought of that scenario makes her laugh, just because it seemed so impossible. She'd have to do it one of these days, maybe in the dead of night when she finds Flight terrorizing some poor loser.

((OOC- Better? ))

((OOC- Well then maybe Dwyn getting reaped would be a good thing. No hard feelings or jealousy to deal with later on. Unless Dwyn won... c(= ))

A wide grin crosses Dwyn's face at Flight's words. So rushing at the girl, intending to give her a hug was something imagined only with disbelief, humor, and maybe a bit of awkwardness. That made thinking of doing it all the more enjoyable. A half-formed plan popped into Dwyn's head and she quickly filed it away, intending on perfecting the details later. She could just see Flight's face now...

And then Flight's tickling her and for once in her short, tortured life, Dwyn's laughing, a foreign and happy sound she'd never heard before. But she can't savor it because Flight's fingers move faster and she struggles defiantly, wriggling and trying to keep in the mirth that threatens to break free.

A small part of her mind thinks how strange this is, to be laughing so, to be tickled at all. It was an oddly refreshing change from her usual sarcastic humor. This was childish, fun. And then Flight's fingers hit an especially sensitive spot and Dwyn's struggles increase, and so does her laughter.

Through the laughter she manages to say "This isn't fair."

((OOC- I'm sorry. Maybe it would be for the best. though I'm sure Dwyn's death scene would've been much longer if they were actually together. I bet you I'd cry while writing it, her being my favorite charrie and all.))

As the two thud against the floor Dwyn's breath is momentarily knocked out of her. Then a smile crosses her face and she laughs again, her stomach slightly sore from the assault. She shakes her hair, carelessly brushing it out of her face before climbing slowly to her feet. As soon as she stood her headache was once again raging and a sigh escapes her, only to be intensified by the renewed knocking.

Flight's impression makes her smile and then she straightens up, suddenly formal and stiff. Her false accent is a posh Capitol one. "We use the window then?" Without waiting for a reply she walks to the window and yanks away the curtains, cussing when the sudden light intensifies the headache.

And then she quickly breaks the window, ignoring the scattered shards of glass and climbs out. When she's out she takes a huge breath of fresh air, suddenly realizing how muggy it was inside the back room. The light's still irritating and so she turns away from the sun and offers a hand to Flight.