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 Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2006 9:23 pm
Grete Llaire was just the slightest bit tipsy. Not enough to be a silly drunk, or start crying about old memories; not even enough to start telling all of her friends that she loved them. Just enough to be a bit dizzy. And clumsy. Dizzy and clumsy.
So, she walked through all of the long tables that had been prepared for dinner. She narrowly avoided people, and from tripping over chairs and benches. Grete proudly continued walking back to her trailer, and applauded herself for not messing anything up.
Until she ran into the food tray. A long tray had been set up for salads and soups and what-have-you. And most of it was now on the ground. Grete's eyes widened as she clasped her hands over her mouth. Hopefully, no one noticed. She began to turn the large tray-table up, just to make sure that it didn't seem quite as noticable.
At least, that made sense to her.
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Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2006 9:31 pm
Maxem was... drenched in punch.
Not that she had originally intended to be that way, but the fact that a strange and neurotic looking lady had just sprawled herself over the food tray did not help. She blinked for a moment, surveying the upturned table and the many wasted dishes that she actually felt a bit of pity for. The pity subsided when she realized no one wanted to eat the food anyway.
She let out a bit of a "Fyeww" noise. It wasn't quite a sigh, for she didn't feel she could sigh amongst all this chaos, but was a noise intended to be taken for a sigh, for all it was worth.
And then the table righted itself seemingly on it's own, sending Maxem into a fit of confusion that knocked her on her keister in trying to avoid the table in it's mission to fix itself.
It was then that she noticed that the very woman who had ruined the table was the one that was fixing it, and that the cirque did not just have a horrible ghost problem that rather needed fixing. This was almost a releif, but the off-balance woman in herself was a peculiar thing- and Maxem hardly felt right leaving it at that and moving on. So she didn't.
"Pardon, but... Are you alright? You seem a bit... distressed."
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Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2006 9:39 pm
Grete put a hand on her hip, and then adjusted it, all while pointing at this girl that had seen the entire table move. Grete opened and shut her mouth a couple times, to say something, but could think of nothing to say. Knowing that she was a bit of an odd specticle, looking incredibly polished, but acting a fool, Grete felt out of place, to say the least.
She squinted at the girl for a second, then found the right words to say.
"You're all wet, you know that?" Grete said in a voice that lowered and rose with no warning. She never got to the obnoxiously loud stage, but she sounded a bit unstable none the less.
"I'm sorry about all your lovely food," She decided that she should add, feeling like it was her duty to apologize, "I just haven't had such a good day, you know? Do you think they'll get mad at me?" She asked, while pointing her finger at a group of larger men who looked a bit hungry.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 1:38 pm
Pulling herself up, Maxem tried to wring her skirts out, but noted that the red stain permeating into her corset was probably never going to leave. She sent a fake, wry smile to Grete, trying to pretend she wasn’t upset about this. Surely, surely she could either afford to get a new one or force this woman to pay for repair.
“I’d wager they would…. So my advice would be to run-- Very quickly, in fact.” Her eyes drifted over the hungry men, some were laughing at the spectacle, while one was checking them out. Ick. “In fact, that one there—“ She pointed to the man that seemed to like what he saw, “Looks as though he may like to eat you in the food’s place, so I do suggest you try to hurry. Oh, do get away!"
She would milk this for all it was worth, she thought with a playful smirk. Of course, she knew she would need to stop before too much damage was made. A ruined corset was not going to go well on Maxem’s debt, and being away from home certainly didn’t help the fact. For now, she would get her revenge, and see how to actually fix the problem much later.
That, and the idea of seeing this tipsy woman running as fast as she could seemed pretty damn funny at the time.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 4:10 pm
"Eat me?" Grete responded, one eyebrow raised and pointing at herself. Turning over to the group of men, she screamed (a bit too loudly), "You know, I'd like to try to see you eat me! I'm not exactly food - oh." Grete had just realized what the girl meant.
"Oh. Whoops." Grete sighed, and then thought about what had been said. Running? That didn't sound like a particularly good idea, and Grete felt the need to voice that opinion. "I'm not sure that running is quite in my best interest. While I certainly don't want to be 'eaten' by any of them," she pointed dramatically at the men, "I'm not sure that it would be good for me to run." Grete lowered her voice to a low whisper and added, "I'm just a little bit tipsy." Only, her whispering came out a bit slurred, and sounded slightly like, "I'mjustalilbitipsy."
"Oh no," Grete gasped, "Your pretty top is all pink-ish. I'm really sorry about that. Was it special?"
Grete decided at that point to sit down on one of the benches. Her head hurt, and she felt a bit dizzy.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 5:25 pm
Maxem recoiled from the smell of booze. The only time she approved of them was when she was the one consuming their sweet, alcoholic goodness. And right here and now, a woman was in front of her, wasted, and Maxem hadn’t had a drop in weeks. Something about that equation didn’t seem fair. Her teeth seemed to grit themselves in agitation, regardless of Maxem’s urge to control them.
And then the knocker came. Just how important was her ‘pretty top’?
Considering how she had bought it on a whim, not too bad. But the fact that the money used to buy it was her father’s and that buying it resulted in being on restriction for a few weeks added on to the thing’s value.
There was also that tiny fact that it was the only top she had, and the punch was starting to reach her skin. Take a moment, reader, and try to think of how strange it must feel to have punch permeating through silk and reaching your skin, where it dries into a dry and sticky mess, and you will have about half of Maxem’s disgust.
“You know what?” She smiled widely, trying to control herself. “I think I could use myself a drink! How about…. Let’s see…” She pretended as if she was thinking, offering time for a suggestion of going drinking so she would not come across as bossy or imposing. “Why don’t you and I go get a drink?”
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 6:46 pm
Grete thought about that proposition. Hmm. Well. She had to think about it.
"I don't really think that I should have any more, but I'll... accompany you, if you want," Grete smiled, "Do you have something, or should I get it from my trailer?"
An idea suddenly struck her, "Then maybe you could get a...another top from me! I don't know if it would fit, but I'll send it with you to try. And, if you don't like any of mine, then you could spill drink all over one. As... payback?"
That seemed appropriate to her, and if Maxem did choose to ruin one of her corsets, at least it would make Grete feel better. Until she woke up the next morning, with a hangover and a ruined top.
"Oh! I'm Grete by the way. I'm not sure if I've said that already or not. But if I have, you'd better remember my name!"
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 7:15 pm
Success! She was in. Drinks were about to be coming, and if all went well, she would be able to wash the fruit drink from her body. The top was the worst part, because her bosom was beginning to stick together, which caused her to feel all the more awkward.
Maxem could get used to this Grete person. Especially since she handed out tops and booze at the drop of a hat! You know you have a good person on board if they offer you drinks just for the helluvit.
Reaching out her hand, Maxem offered a shake with a wide, finally genuine grin. Hell, who wouldn’t be smiling—she was about to get plastered and get the punch off of her chest! “I’m Mari-… No, no need to be formal. You can call me Maxem. It’s uhm…. Marien Mulligen in the entirely… Smush it together and you get Maxem… Somehow.”
She already felt a bit silly and relaxed. Sure, the first impressions were bad, but she was mature, right? She could accept the bad and the good, and end her day on a good side.
“Oh, so… I guess if I’m going to change….” She pretended to think about this, not wanting to seem like a moocher, “Then we had better head towards your place… Convenience and all.”
In all reality… She didn’t even know where she was staying; let alone where her belongings were.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 7:24 pm
"Mmmhkay," Grete slurred, slowly, "Maxem, Maxem, Maxem. Hmm. Marien Mulligen. Mull-i-gen." She let the name roll around in her head for a bit. "How'd you get the 'x' in there?"
Regardless, Grete began walking towards the direction of her trailer. As they got there, she opened the door slowly and peaked in. Grete sighed in disbelief, even though she knew the state that her trailer was in, and turned to Maxem.
"Sorry. My trailer is a bit...of a mess. Well, a complete mess, actually. I really hope you don't mind." And, of course, her trailer was a mess. Not as big of one as Grete made it out to be, though. There were empty glasses and plates littered everywhere, an old newspaper on her couch, and Grete's clothes littered the floor, her bed and were draped over her full-length mirror. Make-up was spilled out on her bureau, but it wasn't too bad. It could be worse!
"So," Grete got two clean glasses out from her cabinet, and began searching for her bottles of booze. "Do you want some brandy? Or rum, or whiskey? I think I've got whiskey, anyway. Maybe I finished it." Then, she stared at the two glasses she'd just gotten out. Grete had said that she wasn't going to drink anymore, but got another glass out of instinct. Oh well.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 7:35 pm
“Honestly…” Maxem had to let out a giggle at this, “I was always told by my father it was because I was a bit of a tom boy, and he called me Max…. But that makes no sense at all! It was originally ‘Maxen’, I remember… But he, my father, changed it because ‘Maxem’ rolls of the tongue much easier than ‘Maxen’. It’s just smoother. Oh, Oh! Whatever’s on hand, I’d hate to be anymore of a bother.”
The room was no surprise, her own room back home looked just as bad before she left. Just another thing on the list of problems Maxem had—Being sloppy was actually fairly low when compared to her other problems…. Only because the other problems were so sever and life-threatening, of course.
While Grete occupied herself with the glasses and finding something to drink, Maxem had found the bed under the clothes laying on it and set to work. Her arms snaked behind her and began working on the little ties that were crushing her ribs, and started now at the clasps that aided them. She made short work of the stained corset, holding it onto herself awkwardly so as not to go exposing herself to a drunken stranger. …. Now she was half naked on a bed of a woman she had just met and planned on drinking with. Maxem sincerely hoped that Grete had no ulterior motive, and cursed herself for being so rash to get the punch off of her skin.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 7:41 pm
Grete had poured half a glass of rum for Maxem, and a full glass for herself. She wasn't sure how heavy of a drinker Maxem was, and figured that she could always pour up more.
"You know, I myself am always-" Grete glanced over, to see the bare back of Maxem sitting on her bed. Grete spit out the bit of rum that she'd just taken a sip of, and turned around so that she was facing her door. She didn't know how sensitive Maxem was to being...well, topless. Plus Grete didn't really care to see someone that she'd met, of the same sex, topless. Just wasn't her style.
Grete pointed to her left, still facing the door and holding a glass in each hand.
"There are some corsets in there. Just don't take the beaded pearl one. Or the navy one. There's a light green one in there that I don't wear very often. And a cranberry one. You can try either of those, if you want to."
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 7:52 pm
‘Good. Good, good good. I don’t have some crazy woman-lover here.’
“Thanks, yeah, uhm.. Anything I can wash this… punch off with first?” She was sitting up now, holding the corset to her chest and trying to look for something like a sink or bottle of water with which to clean herself up with. To put on a new top without washing the sticky drink off would be pointless, and probably just ruin another corset.
To pass the idle time as Grete would need to get water (Assuming there was some), Maxem walked towards the corsets, eyeing them. This was as much to pass time as to hide from Grete, who was clearly uneasy about the half-naked stranger in her room.
“You know… I do believe we have a problem here.“ She looked at the pale green corset, holding it up and giving it an inspection.
“You… You’re extremely tiny… And I………” Just how was she going to explain this? “I’m not very tiny at all.”
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 8:00 pm
"Oh, there's some water over there," Grete stumbled over and picked up a blue pitcher, and passed it to Maxem as well as she could without tripping over the small table that was set up in her trailer.
Then came the problem of the corset size. This might hurt Grete's head to think about, in her half-drunken state.
"Well, where does it really need to be bigger? Maybe it could be stretched out, or something? I'm not that great of a seamstress, so, I'm not quite sure how I'd do to take it out, but," she paused and sighed, "I bet we could figure something out."
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 8:08 pm
“Isn’t it… Obvious?” Maxem was not a tiny girl by any standards; not particularly large, but nothing you would see on a magazine cover today. Grete, on the other hand, has been described as sickly thin. The two just didn’t match up. Maybe, if they pushed it, the chest would fit, but there was no way that Maxem could squeeze into Grete’s clothing without removing her entire ribcage from her body. And that was not going to happen.
She did, however, accept the water. It was used to wash the dried juice off of her skin and provide something of a wash job on the corset—Just enough to make it not stick. She sighed, and set to the task of setting the now green and pink corset on in it’s rightful place. It was not an easy task to accomplish alone, but she somehow managed from years of practice. It was on, albeit loosely and a bit crooked, but those things could be fixed when she wasn’t chugging down a half glass of rum.
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Posted: Sun Nov 26, 2006 8:16 pm
Grete picked up her green corset, and took a seat on her couch. She frowned at it, and glanced around at the fabric.
"Hmmm," she emitted, particularly loudly, "Well, I've got to get you something. I feel a bit terrible leaving you all," Grete tried to think of a word that fit the situation, "Punch-ie."
"Maybe I could give you money? Or buy you one? And then there's always that 'pay back' option. Is there something that's good at getting stains out? Maybe I've got it!" Grete was desperately trying some way to fix her mistake. It was horrible, and it had been her fault.
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