Post by Kalypso Malfoy on Nov 21, 2010 3:58:05 GMT -5
[general tag to Amy - use whoever you want bb~]
Light giggles resounded off of the stone walls of empty, dark corridors, the only sound answering being that of light clicking footsteps made by high heels. A French manicured hand clamped down over red glossed lips for half a moment before pulling away, and then a singular finger was pushed to the lips, magic being the only reason behind why the gloss remained in tact. "Shhh!" the girl whispered to herself, though the sound turned into a new round of giggles, and Kalypso Malfoy found herself leaning against the cold stone texture as the floor rippled and moved, and she idly mumbled for it to stop around her chorus of giggles.
It wasn't a rarity for the teenage population of Hogwarts to sneak around and drink and do other illicit substances - they were teenagers, after all, and if one had the capacity to sneak around well enough to get the deeds done, then they deserved a good pat on the back. However, it could be considered rare for one as young as Kalypso to be found in such a state of intoxication - at the age of fourteen, she had no business to have consumed the amount of vodka that she already had. A bottle rested in her left hand, nearly finished, though that was certainly not all that the girl had consumed in the night. She raised the bottle to her lips again, only a mild grimace giving reference to the burn the hundred-proof liquor scorched down her throat.
Admittedly, Kalypso had probably never drank this much at one time in her past. The only real access she'd really ever had to liquor was at parties hosted by her family or friends of the family, and if her mother or father were watching her, she wasn't permitted to have anything aside from a few glasses of champagne or wine. When they weren't looking, she experimented, though it was rare that her mother didn't have any annoyingly close eye on her 'baby girl' at those sort of things.
However, the girl's alcohol tolerance was, undoubtedly, low, so she was far beyond the point of 'drunk' at this point and far into the meaning of 'trashed.' If there were a category beyond that, Kallie would even be far into that as well. The bottle in her hands felt so heavy even though there was only about a third of the liquid left, and the dizziness she felt even with her eyes closed made her feel so sick. She shook her head once to clear the dizziness away (or attempt to) and then opened green eyes (the enchantment she had cast on them to turn them blue had, apparently, long since worn off), which looked dazed and somewhat far-off. The floor was still swirling and lapping at her in waves, though Kalypso swallowed and took a step forward, stumbling only slightly, though she caught herself against the wall. She held on carefully, deciding that leaning against the wall would probably be her best bet - she didn't want to fall, after all.
She had never gotten drunk at school before, and Kallie couldn't help but feel like a rebel. However, as the reason behind her drinking came back to the forefront of her mind, she shut her eyes and brought the bottle to her lips once again. Images of short skirts, a girl beyond beautiful (despite the fact that Kallie hated her and had a strong suspicion that the girl in question was, indeed, the devil him/herself) and her brother swam there until the alcohol chased them away, along with the annoying feelings of guilt and jealousy. She shouldn't be feeling the jealousy - Deucalion was her brother, as she had told herself a million times, and she should be happy that he had a girlfriend. Even if she was evil and seemed to like being a bitch when Cal wasn't paying attention. Kallie shouldn't want to rip her throat out, shouldn't have bought a snake with the intentions of teaching him to constrict the bitch and eat the evidence (though, admittedly, that was more of a joke and she had wanted a snake for ages), shouldn't feel sick everytime they were together. But for some unexplainable reason, she did. Pushed past far what her emotional range could handle, she had turned to alcohol - many of her older friends turned to booze for reasons such as these, and well, she had figured why the hell not.
It took several tries for thin fingers to brush blonde curls away from her face, as she found the appendage felt thick and useless. She managed to tuck the locks behind her ear, and she was suddenly reminded that this was the reason as to why she usually braided the shorter pieces of hair back. For once, her blonde curls hung completely loose, and despite how disheveled (although good) she felt, they still managed to look amazing - probably because she spent ages on her hair that morning, even though Friday had already faded into the early hours of Saturday. The black skirt she wore was still comfortably in place, pattern tights beneath it fading into black three-inch heels. The blouse she wore was emerald in color and soft to the touch, the low dip of the neckline revealing a locket she had received as a birthday present years ago. Somehow she managed to still look put together, even though she was stumbling over herself and soon enough into an empty suit of armor.
A new round of laughter left her and she switched her bottle to her right hand, her left producing a wand. A chorus of 'shhh!' came from the once sleeping portraits as the girl waved her wand to fix the now collapsed suit of armor, and she mumbled "sorry, sorry!" until the annoyed occupants of the frames seemed appeased. "Sorry, Sir Shiny Suit," she slurred with a nod, looking entirely serious. "Didn' mean to hurt you, there." And with that the girl was on her way, the walls and floors rising up to meet her before falling away again. Groaning, she made a left and hoped to God she was actually on the right way to the common room - getting lost in the dark at night while heavily intoxicated was just asking to get several detentions or even suspended.
By some miraculous intervention, she found herself in front of the familiar portrait leading to her Slytherin common room, though had no recollection of arriving there. Shrugging, she decided it didn't matter, though something else that mattered came to mind - she didn't remember the password. Blonde eyebrows furrowed for half a moment though nothing whatsoever came to mind and she suddenly found the entire situation completely and totally hilarious. Leaning back against the wall, she laughed again, unable to stop herself. She let herself slide to the floor, still laughing, and just sat there, finding it entirely hilarious at how screwed she was. Alcohol did funny things, apparently, and made serious situations funny.
Light giggles resounded off of the stone walls of empty, dark corridors, the only sound answering being that of light clicking footsteps made by high heels. A French manicured hand clamped down over red glossed lips for half a moment before pulling away, and then a singular finger was pushed to the lips, magic being the only reason behind why the gloss remained in tact. "Shhh!" the girl whispered to herself, though the sound turned into a new round of giggles, and Kalypso Malfoy found herself leaning against the cold stone texture as the floor rippled and moved, and she idly mumbled for it to stop around her chorus of giggles.
It wasn't a rarity for the teenage population of Hogwarts to sneak around and drink and do other illicit substances - they were teenagers, after all, and if one had the capacity to sneak around well enough to get the deeds done, then they deserved a good pat on the back. However, it could be considered rare for one as young as Kalypso to be found in such a state of intoxication - at the age of fourteen, she had no business to have consumed the amount of vodka that she already had. A bottle rested in her left hand, nearly finished, though that was certainly not all that the girl had consumed in the night. She raised the bottle to her lips again, only a mild grimace giving reference to the burn the hundred-proof liquor scorched down her throat.
Admittedly, Kalypso had probably never drank this much at one time in her past. The only real access she'd really ever had to liquor was at parties hosted by her family or friends of the family, and if her mother or father were watching her, she wasn't permitted to have anything aside from a few glasses of champagne or wine. When they weren't looking, she experimented, though it was rare that her mother didn't have any annoyingly close eye on her 'baby girl' at those sort of things.
However, the girl's alcohol tolerance was, undoubtedly, low, so she was far beyond the point of 'drunk' at this point and far into the meaning of 'trashed.' If there were a category beyond that, Kallie would even be far into that as well. The bottle in her hands felt so heavy even though there was only about a third of the liquid left, and the dizziness she felt even with her eyes closed made her feel so sick. She shook her head once to clear the dizziness away (or attempt to) and then opened green eyes (the enchantment she had cast on them to turn them blue had, apparently, long since worn off), which looked dazed and somewhat far-off. The floor was still swirling and lapping at her in waves, though Kalypso swallowed and took a step forward, stumbling only slightly, though she caught herself against the wall. She held on carefully, deciding that leaning against the wall would probably be her best bet - she didn't want to fall, after all.
She had never gotten drunk at school before, and Kallie couldn't help but feel like a rebel. However, as the reason behind her drinking came back to the forefront of her mind, she shut her eyes and brought the bottle to her lips once again. Images of short skirts, a girl beyond beautiful (despite the fact that Kallie hated her and had a strong suspicion that the girl in question was, indeed, the devil him/herself) and her brother swam there until the alcohol chased them away, along with the annoying feelings of guilt and jealousy. She shouldn't be feeling the jealousy - Deucalion was her brother, as she had told herself a million times, and she should be happy that he had a girlfriend. Even if she was evil and seemed to like being a bitch when Cal wasn't paying attention. Kallie shouldn't want to rip her throat out, shouldn't have bought a snake with the intentions of teaching him to constrict the bitch and eat the evidence (though, admittedly, that was more of a joke and she had wanted a snake for ages), shouldn't feel sick everytime they were together. But for some unexplainable reason, she did. Pushed past far what her emotional range could handle, she had turned to alcohol - many of her older friends turned to booze for reasons such as these, and well, she had figured why the hell not.
It took several tries for thin fingers to brush blonde curls away from her face, as she found the appendage felt thick and useless. She managed to tuck the locks behind her ear, and she was suddenly reminded that this was the reason as to why she usually braided the shorter pieces of hair back. For once, her blonde curls hung completely loose, and despite how disheveled (although good) she felt, they still managed to look amazing - probably because she spent ages on her hair that morning, even though Friday had already faded into the early hours of Saturday. The black skirt she wore was still comfortably in place, pattern tights beneath it fading into black three-inch heels. The blouse she wore was emerald in color and soft to the touch, the low dip of the neckline revealing a locket she had received as a birthday present years ago. Somehow she managed to still look put together, even though she was stumbling over herself and soon enough into an empty suit of armor.
A new round of laughter left her and she switched her bottle to her right hand, her left producing a wand. A chorus of 'shhh!' came from the once sleeping portraits as the girl waved her wand to fix the now collapsed suit of armor, and she mumbled "sorry, sorry!" until the annoyed occupants of the frames seemed appeased. "Sorry, Sir Shiny Suit," she slurred with a nod, looking entirely serious. "Didn' mean to hurt you, there." And with that the girl was on her way, the walls and floors rising up to meet her before falling away again. Groaning, she made a left and hoped to God she was actually on the right way to the common room - getting lost in the dark at night while heavily intoxicated was just asking to get several detentions or even suspended.
By some miraculous intervention, she found herself in front of the familiar portrait leading to her Slytherin common room, though had no recollection of arriving there. Shrugging, she decided it didn't matter, though something else that mattered came to mind - she didn't remember the password. Blonde eyebrows furrowed for half a moment though nothing whatsoever came to mind and she suddenly found the entire situation completely and totally hilarious. Leaning back against the wall, she laughed again, unable to stop herself. She let herself slide to the floor, still laughing, and just sat there, finding it entirely hilarious at how screwed she was. Alcohol did funny things, apparently, and made serious situations funny.
