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 Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 6:48 pm
In all of the objective facts and subjective opinions in the universe, Zia was fairly sure that one of the most solid pieces of knowledge was that the Hangover did not need a part II.
And neither did hers, but here she was. This time Realgar wasn't around to block her from a bad chemical combination an an equally bad hookup. She was about to be super proud of herself for practicing some unknown form of party hard discipline when she woke up in her own bed to the blinding sunlight from the panoramic windows in the mater bedroom, but then she could hear him breathing.
Ugh, she brought him home.
At least he smelled nice.
She didn't even both trying to glimpse at last night's conquest as she flipped off the white, puffy down comforter, pulled on some sweatpants and shuffled off to the kitchen to find food and make coffee. The least she could do was offer him coffee while making him rush to find his pants and get the hell out of her place.
Er, her mom's place. Ugh.
The penthouse as a whole seemed blinding, but maybe that was a combination of the shiny wood floors and open windows and white linen. ******** everywhere. Chrome appliances, the bright was inescapable and her migraine was screaming out in horrible pain until she flopped against the bubbling coffee maker, thanking every deity in her vocabulary for timers.
Now she just needed to chug it and get bar guy out so she could do her morning yoga and get on with her day.
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Posted: Thu Nov 14, 2013 6:54 pm
It was the smell of freshly brewed coffee that woke Pascal up from his slumber. He didn't think anything of it at first, a groan slipping out of his mouth as he shifted his position and rolled over. However, when his amber eyes slowly opened up he found himself in an apartment other than his. It was way nicer than his, and as he looked around he discovered just how much nicer it was. Did he hook up with a hot, rich babe? A smirk came across his lips as his hand hit his forehead with a minor ******** headache, he thought. How much did I drink?
He took a moment to recover and come to his senses before he looked over to the other side of the bed. He had wanted a peek and when he noticed that the other side of the bed was vacant he found himself frowning because unfortunately the woman was already gone. With a big whiff, Pascal evaluated the situation and determined that the probable location of this woman was in the kitchen making coffee.
Well then.
He began to quietly shuffle around, picking up his pants up off the floor and slipping into them before he searched for his shirt. More important than his pants, he investigated the room in search of his 'Science gives me a hadron' shirt. It wasn't anywhere near his pants, and he couldn't find it in the bedroom at all. Was he not wearing it when the two of them had stumbled into the bedroom?
Clearly not. He sighed, looking at the door leading out of the bedroom. Well, he had to face her eventually to escape so why not do it now? Part of him hesitated though. Was she ugly? Was she fat? Was she fugly? All of those were horrible options and Pascal cringed. WHAT IF THIS WAS NOT A GIRL'S PLACE AT ALL? He couldn't have, he wouldn't have? Immediately he knew he had to see, had to know!
Wiping the worried expression off his face, he casually walked out to the bedroom with no shirt on with his pants only partially zipped up and the button undone. He made his way to the kitchen, calling out to her just before his feet hit the tile floor.
"Good morning," he said, his arm leaning up against a nearby wall. "Have you seen my shirt lying around he—" was all he managed to say, unable to finish his train of thought when a very familiar view came into his vision. Maybe a man wouldn't have been a terrible thing after all.
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Posted: Thu Nov 14, 2013 7:49 pm
Zia blamed it on the headache, but when she heard a man's voice, she knew it was her one night stand and familiar, but was too sleepy and hungover to truly recognize it until she turned around.
And when she did the quarter full coffee pot in her hands hit the floor with an explosion of glass and splatter.
Well that took the victory right out of the conquest. Her eyes had gone wide, and then narrowed in complete contempt at his presence. Part of it wasn't totally personal, Pascal, but she was not properly caffeinated to handle the trials of the day, much less her super hot one night stand vanishing and being replaced with her equally hungover ex.
The fact that she lost precious coffee to the floor didn't help either.
"Get... out..." She snarled quietly with an almost demonic intonation as she pointed toward the door.
The hostile and defensive stance took over, and she hoped covered up the fact she was staring the ever loving ******** out of his form in her kitchen. She thought she'd been adjusting pretty well to going from having him around every second of every day to never seeing him at all, but was starting to second guess that.
She missed him. They were together for almost a year, was it so wrong that she missed him?
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Posted: Thu Nov 21, 2013 7:15 pm
The realization hit him harder than he thought it would. He had joked about them hooking up as Sailor Orpheus and Zia but as Pascal and Zia? That was a whole different story. He could hide behind the disguise of Sailor Orpheus, hide the hurt he felt when he was around her but as Pascal all he wanted to do was express his sorrow by screaming at her. His fists clenching, his mouth opened, and what he expected to come out didn't.
Silence.
It took all he had not to do anything at all, even if that meant staring at her as she stood there with the coffee and broken glass around her feet. Eventually amber eyes settled on her face and he really wished he had been sober enough to remember all the wild sex they probably had. Life was really unfair.
"You should clean that up before Harley walks in it. Where is he at?" He said looking around. It wasn't like he missed the big lug or anything like that. No, he totally didn't want that big slobbering mess he'd bonded with to come over and love him in his time of need. "Not that I missed it or anything like that but I'm kind of surprised I didn't wake up with him sleeping on my face or something."
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Posted: Thu Nov 21, 2013 8:12 pm
Zia was trying her best to keep her expression hard and unyielding, like someone shooing off a stray cat they couldn't afford to keep feeding anymore but just really wanted to cuddle.
So it was hard, and even harder when her skin on one leg started turning a bright red in a perfect splatter pattern where the coffee hit, resulting in very obvious twitches and deviations away from hatred to sadness to pain.
Ow.
But when he asked where Harley was, she just looked confused, and then her eyes widened slightly as she tried to keep the panic down. No use jumping to conclusions here.
"...You have Harley, I left him at the apartment."
Because this was apparently a dumpster on the corner. 'The apartment' and 'home' still usually meant Pascal's place.
"Oh god, did you lose the dog?!"
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Posted: Thu Nov 21, 2013 8:35 pm
Pascal was definitely checking her out when his look shot right back up to her face with confusion. What was this b***h trying to start now?
"No, you took him with you when you walked out on me." He said, an obviously bad choice of words there when he's basically attacked her but after calling her a cheating whore. Well, at least saying she walked out on him wasn't that much of a slide after everything else he'd said.
"Harley was never at the apartment, Zee. Do you even care? You never even asked about him." Pascal was projecting a little here because of the time she basically neglected the two of them, but this wasn't the first time she'd started over without Harley, was it? She'd basically moved in with Pascal and they didn't have Harley then. It was only after Chris brought him over that the dog came into the picture.
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Posted: Fri Nov 22, 2013 4:12 pm
Zia was full on panicking now, running her fingers through her bangs until she could grab her scalp on both sides and exhale a distressed noise. How long had Harley been missing with no one looking for him? A big dog like that with obvious pit bull in the mix didn't have a lot of freedom roaming alleyways and was probably high on the list to be euthanized at the pound.
Hell, she didn't even take a beat to acknowledge how totally fineit was that he had used verbiage like 'walked out on him'. Because she had. She made the decision, she did the leaving, and she twitched uncomfortably when her grand moment of maturity was undercut by people saying he kicked her out or that he forced her hand.
No, they were practically poisonous to each other she she had done a thing in both of their best interest by taking action. She walked out, and she stood by that decision. It was her decision to make and keep, no matter how fantastic his a** looked in his jeans.
"He's been missing since I left?!" She wailed and made an attempt to step out of the kitchen, yelping and stumbling when she struck glass and leaned on the island. "I didn't take anything when I left, not even clothes! I didn't take him because I didn't have anywhere to go, damn it, a two hundred pound horse dog isn't conducive to couch surfing. And <********>," She finally had trouble ignoring her foot.
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Posted: Sun Dec 01, 2013 4:06 pm
Pascal stood there with his arms crossed defensively, his mind calculating probabilities. It was very likely that Harley had been dead for awhile now but with how often he was neglected it was a real surprise it hadn't come sooner. Heartbreak, it probably devoured the large dog bit by bit until he could no longer continue on. Or maybe this was a metaphor for Pascal. Either way, it sucked.
Harley definitely didn't deserve it even if he did insist on sleeping on Pascal as if he was a small seven pound dog.
"I didn't see him the next morning and I assumed you'd taken him with you. He's not material like clothes. It's not illogical to think you took him. You didn't say a thing to me after that, you didn't even have the guts to come collect your things yourself. As far as I'm concerned here, you abandoned us both that night. Maybe he really was a material thing, just like me."
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Posted: Sun Dec 01, 2013 6:59 pm
Zia looked up from her very intense and interesting attempt to clear the hell out of her minefield of a kitchen and fix up her foot. It was more interesting then him, and certainly not an excuse to not look at him or anything. Nope.
But now she was frowning, trying to cram all of her irritation and judgement into one solid expression.
"Knock it off. You think I would've stuck around if I thought of you like a toy? Moved into your shitty apartment? I cared about you, you ******** moron. I still care about you, but I'm not going to be kept on a leash and accused of bullshit like cheating."
She wasn't even going to fight him on the way she treated Harley, because that guilt was coming on full force. She was irresponsible, and her baby suffered for it, and now he was lost or dead and if he was, it would be all her fault.
She let out a ragged sigh as she looked around for tweezers to pick glass out of her foot.
"I don't suppose we're ever going to get to a point where you don't hate me," She stated, slamming drawers as she looked. "I don't hate you, you know."
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Posted: Sun Dec 01, 2013 7:34 pm
He might knock it off if he felt like there was something to knock off. No, her words were empty as they passed into his ears. Why wouldn't she stick around to play with her toy? Maybe she simply hadn't gotten tired of him yet but the signs were showing. More and more she left and didn't say where she was. More and more she'd disappear in the middle of the night and sometimes she wouldn't come back for days. What was he suppose to believe? After he seen her with Realgar, what was he suppose to think? She didn't tell him anything. Ever.
He didn't miss those days. The days he spent waiting for her, the days he spent chasing after her and the days he wondered how long he had left until he went out and found her lifeless body on the ground. He suspected the one who was really on the leash was himself. He had a lot of similarities with Harley than he'd like to admit and one of them was an unconditional love for this neglectful woman.
"No, I think you are wrong on both counts," he said with a laugh but it died off quickly. His eyes looked at her, gazing across her with a mixture of longing and regret. "You definitely hate me. You don't see it yet but one day you'll realize it."
For once he didn't sound cocky. It was a truth he tried to live with, a truth he tried to cover with a lot of other things but no matter how he tried the truth stared him in the face. He was a Dark Mirror Senshi and he was pretty sure the definition to her was hate and disgust. Even if she moved on from hate, how could he keep living a double life where he knew she was disgusted. She might be unable to keep her eyes off him right now but how would she look if she knew the truth? She could barely bring himself to touch him as Sailor Orpheus and that hurt more than anything.
He went to leave without a word but couldn't help but stop and laugh as he reached the door. Of course, the first thing Zia had done as they drunkenly stumbled into the door was make sure he couldn't possible put a shirt on. He picked it up and slid it over his head, slipping his arms through the sleeves before realizing how much it reeked of alcohol.
Must have been a fun night.
Ha.
Pascal was just falling deeper into a pit he just couldn't climb out of.
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 6:17 am
"I don't," Zia muttered, leaning on her her elbows and trying to focus on tweezing glass. She wasn't moving her fingers, though, she was just staring and frowning.
It was emotional blackmail and she knew it. He always did this, on a smaller scale. Be good, Zia, follow my expectations. Then name calling, shutting her out, making her feel worthless until she was degrading herself and her own wants to placate him.
What a ******** baby.
I don't hate you, I don't hate you, I don't hate you, She chanted mentally as if she could somehow make it true.
She did hate him. He was a residual black mark of despair from darker times that wouldn't leave. Mostly because she didn't want him to leave. She didn't want him gone, she wanted him to conform to her expectations and fit into her new life as easily as he used to when she was depressed and isolated.
When she looked up and saw his head in his shirt trying to get out the door she got up with a snarl under her breath and pulled him back in by the collar, kicking the door shut behind her.
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