Alcoholic Meets Emotional Shawty

Summer 2021, Week 3

Saturday afternoon

Randolph, City Centre

Zofia Faust

Once her world was confined to that of four corners and off-white padded cushions: a prison by any other name. Now the world that lay before her had leapt straight from the leather-bound confines of books she'd read in her youth even when washed in the muddying palette of the thunderstorm above; vibrant reds, blues, and yellows all drowned to become browns, grays, and blacks beneath the guillotine heavy storm that hung above their heads. Her already overburdened senses burned furiously as the diluted colors and shapes of a myriad of people pushed on heedless through the storm, the echoes of dying timelines branching out with every step turning left where they turned right and moving backward where they moved forward. Each bound by multicolored threads like stained glass to the soul at their center, the ones having been freed from their mortal shells lacking any form of connection as all their bridges finally burnt to cinders in their afterlife. Her pale eyes flickered between neon signs and brightly painted sports cars pelted by sheets of rain, the nearby onslaught splattering her despite the cover she took beneath the awning of a nearby store
These sights saturated her mind like water with wood until her waterlogged senses bobbed through the liminal space between her mind and reality with every blink. At one moment she saw souls and countless threads and at another she saw the people for who they truly were. Faces hidden beneath the shadows of their hoods and rushing between cover as if avoiding a firefight nearby. Most often the two blurred together in a terrible tapestry that made her mind ache to the point even the constant whispers clawing at her psyche gave pause. Despite all this she had never felt freer than she did clad in shabby garments stolen from a clothesline nearby, her knees drawn to her chest as she straddled a bench with her hands being warmed by the ill-gotten gaze of a vendor's coffee and meal left behind when the storm broke. She held no pride for the prizes she won, but Zofia knew it to be necessity and so sat gladly upon her perch watching the world go by one droplet at a time.

Suzanne Morgan

As that profound view of the world continued there was a gentle screeching sound hidden in the undertones of the crying sky. It would make itself known before going quiet, almost as if it hesitated a few moments before starting again. It sounded like metal on metal, something that became clearer as a certain horned individual's head popped up from the other side of one of those fancy sports cars. Maniacal laughter poured from her lips as she held a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels high towards the pouring heavens in one hand. There was a faint glitter of silver in her other hand, and if anyone strained to see they'd be met with what looked like a standard house knife clutched in the devil's death grip.
"AHAHAHAHA!!!!! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR HAVING A NICE RIDE, BITCH!"
She promptly placed her lips against the bottle's side, giving it a near-passionate kiss before taking a nice big ceremonious swig of rainwater and whiskey as she started to move away from the scene of the crime- gently stumbling along. In actuality she'd scratched up the wrong car- an honest mistake for someone that was this drunk. Needless to say, she didn't notice as she trudged along, her wet strawberry blond hair starting to stick to her face and take out portions of her view. Shaking her head in a manner not too dissimilar to that of a dog, she locked eyes with Zofia for a fraction of a second. Another woman in the rain, and one that looked kinda sad. The inebriated lady shuffled over, bottle and knife in hand as her crosshair-like eyes locked onto a new individual.
"You alright? You look like... the fuck is it called?"
Suzanne paused for a moment, and Zofia might have been able to see the metaphorical gears churning. Her eyes glazed over for a moment in the rain before the missing piece clicked into place and she pointed at Zofia triumphantly- nearly throwing the knife at her in the process as she remembered what she was saying.
An emotional shawty! That's what you look like!!"
There was another bought of laughter before a stupid grin found itself plastered on her face, as she found herself pleased with her own mental efforts. Perhaps her neurons had truly activated.

Zofia Faust

Surprise and confusion were the first feelings of many that began to tangle within her chest at the surprise appearance of the devil woman not but a few yards away, waving around a bottle of whiskey and paint-stained knife equally as if they were both weapons. Most proclamations would've been drowned out by the pounding beat of the rain drenching the streets in their heavenly fury, but it was in her drunken defiance Suzanne had managed to scream out above the storm as she stumbled from the cars closer to the escapee's position. How didn't she trip? She thought in a distant echo of awe as the drunken woman elicited a number of whispers from the back of her mind, the raven-haired woman having moved out of the knife's potential range as it was waved carelessly in her direction. A brief echo appeared then a possibility of being skewered at the end of that knife before it faded into oblivion. It was only when those crosshair pupils locked on her, and the silence drew out did she realize the other woman had spoken.
Blinking furiously, she focused herself on Suzanne's rain drenched face, her ethereal white eyes raking over the woman's face from the tendrils of strawberry blonde hair clinging to her face to the over-the-top grin that perched upon her lips. Zofia found it difficult to determine the woman's intentions in that moment, her strange approach and disposition making it difficult to pinpoint her desires in comparison to the many she'd learned from before. Run, unstable, unsteady, weapon, fear, the whispers tried desperately to sway the raven-haired woman but, in that moment, she ignored them as her quiet tone barely managed to pierce through the choir of rain at Suzanne's back. "Emotional... Shawty?" She asked, confusion wrought across the lines of her face as she came to grips with the strange slang being pitched in her direction. "Ah...! I'm⁠—I'm alright! Better than I've ever been, actually," Despite the distrust coiling in her soul she couldn't help but be curious as to who this strange woman was. It doesn't even seem like she wants anything... Does she really care? It was impossible to tell.
"This place is just... A lot. It's beautiful but the rain and all these people, I'm not used to it." Zofia said before taking a moment to sip at the lukewarm coffee clasped within grip. "What about you? Are you... Alright?" She asked, eyeing the knife and then the car in the distance before returning her gaze back to the stark red soul before her.

Suzanne Morgan

"Alright?! I've never been better!"
She crossed her arms for a moment, still holding onto her two visible possessions before she moved the bottle up to her chin as though she was deep in thought once more. There was nothing going on behind her eyes as she stood for a second moment, waiting on more trains of thought to hurry up and put themselves back on the rails.
"In this place you get to run around and do whatever you want! At least, that's what I do. Drink and marry? That's not right."
What she was looking for was 'Drink and Be Merry', but it didn't click. There were plenty of things that didn't click in Suzanne's mind. Suddenly she was interested in what was in the other woman's cup. Smell-o-vision: activate!
The drunk lady immediately gagged, dropping her knife as she struggled to hold the mix of rainwater and alcohol in her stomach for a moment.
"BLEGH! COFFEE? YOU DRINK COFFEE? IN THE RAIN?"
The woman yelled out into the rain with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, trying to wipe the terrible taste off with her now empty hand. ITS NOT WORKING WHY ISN'T IT WORKING IT WON'T GO AWAY. It wasn't working because she kept looking back at the cup again each time, she thought she'd recovered. Eventually something broke the cycle, as Suzanne stumbled a bit too hard and slipped- falling flat on her ass, her bottle shattering on impact. She sat stunned like a child who had just discovered gravity before she looked at the broken bottle.
"Fuck."
She paused again, finally freed from a self-imposed curse. Glancing towards the heavens she thanked the god of alcohol, praising them for not smelling like coffee.
"The name's Suzanne. Suzanne, meet emotional shawty. Emotional shawty, meet Suzanne."
A strange introduction was followed by the woman just sitting there on the ground, looking up at Zofia before she continued her near mindless chatter while it rained. She didn't seem to mind being soaked in the same water-whiskey mix that sat in her half-full stomach.
"Okay, but like why are you all alone in the rain?"

[Type 1: Basic Action (-0 EP)]

Zofia Faust

Her instincts screamed at her to abandon this fruitless conversation before something she couldn't anticipate happened, yet there was a small, curious part of her that admired the simplicity at which Suzanne conducted herself. It was this admiration that rooted her in place and allowed the distrustful woman to be complacent in the presence of the stranger wielding a knife.
There's no threat, she tried to urge the voices, there's no promise of violence behind her eyes. She noted as she watched the other woman carefully, perched at the edge of her seat.
Those ethereal white blinked out of existence for a moment as her eyelids fluttered rapidly in surprise, "Anything?" She parroted, not entirely sure what to make of that potential promise. So many possibilities, she thought as she watched Suzanne's body waver between a dozen timelines at once before focusing back on the present against.
"I wouldn't know about drinking and marrying, but it sounds like a fun phrase at least, I think."
Then confusion came again, dazing her like a hammer striking a nail as she watched the drunken woman gag and choke, the knife clattering to the ground and her eyes shooting high onto her brow. "It’s warm and its cold! How'd you—what?!" Gently she placed the wrapped-up pastry and her coffee aside as she raked a hand through her hair and nearly reached out to the woman as she fell before stopping herself. You don't know her; this could be a trick! The voices hissed in her ear.
The escapee mustered her courage while gravity slowly but surely became Suzanne's arch nemesis, reaching out her fingers grazed over shards of broken glass as the alien beauty of her moon silver eyes glowed all the brighter. Wisps of purple, black, and silver light entangled the broken shards infusing them with their energy before the broken bottle was pieced back together through time and the sloshing mixture returned back to its amber prison.
She watched as the glass rose through the air to its last position before she reached out at its apex, catching it before it fell again and offering the bottle back to Suzanne, kneeling in the process with a ghost of a smile perched on her lips. "I don't know what a 'shawty' is, but I'm Zofia. It's nice to meet you, Suzanne! You're... Interesting!" She couldn't help but speak her mind about the woman who'd already given her so many conflicting feelings at once.
Placing the bottle back into the seated woman's hands, the dark-haired escapee threw herself back onto the bench and crossed her ankles swinging her legs forward and back before finally replying after some internal deliberation.
"I'm new here--and I don't have anywhere else to go," she shrugged not terribly upset by that fact, "Plus the storm is rather nice, even if it’s a bit loud. What about you?"

[Type 2: Basic Action (-0 EP)]

Suzanne Morgan

The events that followed her total and literal downfall, or rather her falling down, could only be described as the coolest thing Suzanne had ever seen- and she had seen a four-leaf clover before. What could be cooler than seeing a broken bottle magically poof back into existence and fill itself back up. She could hardly contain her excitement- practically squealing as she was gifted her own refurbished bottle.
"YOU CAN MAKE JACK DANIELS APPEAR!!!?"
Suzanne touched Zofia's hand, and for a moment all those voices went to sleep as the bottle was handed back. Her strange and unique world's pages began to drift away like a lonely book on a shelf as long as the devil held her contact. Two outcasts in the rain. With her other hand she shook the bottle fervently as she continued to talk, all three of her remaining brain cells enamored by this new and fantastic booze generator!
"You're one of those... uh. One. One of those. Fuckin'. Eve? Evo?"
She was too ecstatic to remember, and her not being able to remember promptly shut off all other rational thought she was having. She lost contact as the woman went back to her perch, Suzanne heard something nagging at the back of her skull. It felt strange and foreign, but whatever it was disappeared just as quickly as it came. There hadn't been enough contact to give the ability a chance to solidify itself, and even then, Suzanne wouldn't have had any kind of idea what she was dealing with. All she knew was this woman was strange.
"THAT'S SO COOL. I can touch with my eyes, but I promise I'm not doing that right now."
She was gremlin, but that didn't mean she wasn't a creep. The lady blinked a few times before glancing back between Zofia and her bottle of booze. She was half tempted to throw it back on the ground and see if she could make it appear once more.
"Did your parents kick you out? That happened to me! They said, 'No Suzanne you can't go out to drink with the girls anymore' so I said 'Fuck you. You're old anyways and I'm not taking care of you when you start to forget things. You're stupid and lame' So. Yeah. The storm is kinda loud."
She shifted back and forth as she retold a tale of family, using different voices as she went along at a blinding pace reenacting and partially re-experiencing the catalyst that had originally led her to leave home those years ago. Maybe not the best thing to share with someone you'd never met before, but nothing really ever stopped Suzanne.

[Type 1: Basic Action (-0 EP)]

Zofia Faust

It took enough time that it felt as if eternity was creeping in at the edges of Zofia's mind as she gazed upon Suzanne in the aftermath of her words, her kind expression unwavering despite the confusion that now stalled all her mind's processes. What the hell is a Jack Daniels? She thought to herself before she mustered a small, awkward smile upon connecting the dots moments later.
"In a manner of speaking, I suppose! It’s a bit more complicated, but, ah, it doesn't matter." She went to wave her hand but was preemptively stopped in her tracks by the strawberry blonde taking the escapee's hand in her own. That familiar frustration of being unable to read the woman's intention crept up again, burning in her cheeks before her gaze flickered.
Once she blinked, then twice, but nothing changed. The world simply was a cascade of muddied colors with a backdrop of a torrential downpour. The preserving whispers that lurked within her skull, the threads of time and their myriad branches, and even the souls sifting through the immaterial world all ceased to be. It was in that moment she was stranded on an island with only Suzanne amid the storm, and more emotions than she could contend with built up within her chest. Relief, despair, fear, surprise, joy, and so much more coiled into one incomprehensible slurry that only was amplified when that contact was broken.
"Ah," She gasped in surprise as she nearly fell out of her seat looking wide-eyed at Suzanne, her cheeks pink from the brief contact and the associated effects. "Ev--Yeah, Evos. I'm an Evo, and you are too, aren't you?" She asked moments before the drunken woman answered her own inquiry. Though the answer did puzzle her further, her head canting to the side as her eyebrows raised.
"Thanks, I think?"
Zofia had no time to recover with Suzanne before her, and perhaps that was for the best rather than being allowed to dwell on what had just transpired.
Perching her elbows on her knees, Zofia leaned forward intently as she listened to the gremlin of a woman speak her mind about the past before her lips parted as she thought of what to say. Is it safe to say? It’s not like she's gonna tell anyone, or they likely wouldn't believe her... She seems harmless. She tried to rationalize with herself before finally breaking the silence.
"I ran away from my home, and... I didn't really know my real parents, at least I don't think I did. I didn't like being trapped there so I left when I got the chance." Zofia explained plainly, "I guess we both have parent issues, huh?" She wondered before offering a hand out to Suzanne, "I know the ground's kind of comfortable, but the bench is better so why don't you sit up here with me?"
Despite her own troubled past the pale eyed woman felt the need to offer help to Suzanne. The voices trapped within her mind wailed in protest, but she ignored them, favoring the idea of being able to converse with such an open, unexpecting individual like Suzanne over any potential risk mitigation.
"Plus, it’s a little less loud when you get further away from it." She said as a ghost of a smile trailed along the edges of her lips.

Suzanne Morgan

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeevo. that."
She listened, probably trying to maintain a string of consciousness that lasted longer than one second. Unlike Zofia, there was nothing whispering in her head. It was quiet in there for the most part, only an echo of what was leaving her mouth with no delay. She did not hesitate to take a grand leap, nearly slipping on the bench and folding herself like an omelet over the backrest as she stood triumphantly with her luck intact. She opted to play the near epic failure off, of course.
"Parent issues? I've got alllll kinds of issues."
She waved her refurbished bottle around for effect as she turned and looked at Zofia. How had she not realized there was something wrong with her eyes. She must've been VERY drunk. Well. Time for another swig.
"Attention issues, women issues, I'm not allowed to drive in 4 states issues, gambling issues, I've been told I can't read a room issues. I think that's it."
She moved some of the soaked hair from off her face as she thought, but nothing came at all. Well. Nothing popped into her mind until it did, that was how it always was. It was darkness before light and darkness before light. Kind of like the darkness before creation and then implosion of the universe.
"Wait no. I'm also not permitted to practice law issues or own a firearm issues. Yup, that's it, I think. Yes."
Truly never a dull moment with Suzanne. She continued to sit next to Zofia, and she had to admit it was betting than sitting on her ass in the pouring rain.

Zofia Faust

Unbeknownst to the echo chamber that was Suzanne's mind, she sat and waited patiently for the other woman to collect her thoughts idly sipping at the damnable drink that the other had nearly died smelling. She still wasn't entirely sure just how incoherent the strawberry blonde was in that moment, but it was clear it was going to be difficult to hold any complex discussions. Not that it really matters though, this has been fun so far! She thought to herself, that quiet smile of hers broadening before a quizzical expression crossed her face again.
"Issues?" She parroted, not entirely certain what Suzanne exactly meant with her particular choice of words. Then little-by-little her eyes went wide as more issues piled atop to form a small mountain; an obstacle that the drunken woman seemed entirely unbothered by. Maybe if she isn't worried about them, then maybe I shouldn't be either? She pondered briefly before finally speaking up.
"I think you do plenty well with attention, I'm not sure about the rest or even what might merit some of those being issues but... You're nice to talk to, and kind of funny." It was hard for her to suppress a small, genuine laugh at the sheer ridiculousness the other woman exuded. After taking one last bite of the flaky pastry she'd acquired by sleight of hand, she offered it out to Suzanne.
"You can have the rest. Think of it as a peace offering after the coffee incident!" At that she leaned back deep into the caress of the bench, watching the dim light before her flicker with light as the thoughts came and went from her head. The raging alcoholic maybe had a few screws loose, but Zofia wouldn't have traded her company for the world amid that storm. Pleasant things are scarce back home, she thought to herself as she brought her knees back to her chest.
"What do you plan on doing, Suzanne?"

Suzanne Morgan

The pastry could not have gone from Zofia's hand and into Suzanne's mouth any faster. In a blink of the eye, she had already crammed the baked good in its entirety into her continuously rambling maw. She was quiet for a moment, but the silence was fleeting and only hung between the two for a second as she practically swallowed it whole- though nearly dying in the process, and even that didn't stop her from trying to talk.
"I know! I'm hilarious. At least that's what some people say, that and to not quit my day job- but that's just the thing! I don't have a day job!"
She laughed to herself as she sat there, making a lazy attempt to dust and of the crumbs from the pastry off of herself before washing it all down with more of her magical drink that had been able to return to her after its death.
"It's even better after magically reappearing! Uhm. Me?"
She turned to look at Zofia, her dumb empty eyes lingering on her for a second before she spoke back up as the chatter in her mind picked back up, naturally her mouth immediately followed whatever was thought up.
"Probably drinking! Sleeping. Eating. Though that pastry did mess up the order, so I'll have to readjust it. What about you? Do you do any of those things?"

Zofia Faust

She didn't immediately register what was happening until it was too late as her eyes flickered down to her now empty hand and to the aftermath of such a violent consumption; the crumbs decorating Suzanne's cheeks and chin as she wheezed from devouring the remainder of the pastry whole.
"Are you okay—" Zofia trailed off as the strawberry blonde went right back to chattering endlessly. Her gaze wavered for a moment before she leaned in to listen again, "If you don't have whatever a day job is, and they're saying you're funny... That's good then, right? It sounds like it!"
Idly she propped her chin up a loosely curled hand, watching Suzanne curiously as a slight smile spread across her face from her remarks, nodding along to confirm the other woman's suspicions. Only for her eyes to flicker to the awning above them and thunderstorm just beyond its threshold, a thoughtful look crossing her features.
"Wouldn't drinking fall into eating as well?" She thought aloud to herself, "But yeah, I do those things! Plus, I do exploring too, since I don't know this place very well and all everything is kind of an exploration—but yeah! Of course I do those things!"
She hummed for a moment, her gaze lingering on the eidolons dancing within the rain before speaking up again in spite of her own apprehension and the voices warning her against the thought, "Do you... Wanna hang out? I don't have many friends here, and I've liked talking to you today!"

Suzanne Morgan

"I think it's good, but not as good as my actual job- Today's my day off by the way. I can make annnnnnnnnnnnnnnyyyyy drink anyone wants, but I don't even know how to measure things. It just works. Mind blowing, right?"
Her eyes glanced back to her bottle, as if she wanted to drink more but was unsure of it for the first time during this entire conversation.
"Drinking is different from eating because both can be their own meals- but I just do both allll dayyy everydayy."
A yawn escaped her mouth as she spoke, sighing and blinking a couple times before finally caving in and taking another swig of the magical juice. This tired expression was of course immediately replaced by excitement at the thought of being asked to hang out.
"Do you mean hang out hang out or hang out hang out? Because those are two- WE CAN HANG OUT"
Stray lightning struck off in the distance, the thunder shattering any last hope of rational thought for Suzanne. This energy amplified her own as she shouted out over the thunder in an attempt to overpower it- which led to her screaming over thunder and then over the pounding rain.

Zofia Faust

The raven-haired woman paused for a moment as she considered Suzanne carefully, putting together the pieces before it finally clicked. Trying to get a picture of Suzanne's life wasn't entirely difficult as she held nothing back but getting it in a coherent manner was a different story.
"Oh, you're... A bartender then? I've only heard of those. I've never been to a bar myself; I was never allowed to." She admitted with a sheepish smile and a shrug.
"If you drink and eat a lot, you must have a few favorites? I'd love to know if you wanna share that with me!"
Zofia cast her gaze into the torrential downpour beyond, her lips pursed as she thought of what the future might hold for her. A thousand possibilities lying right before her eyes only to be interrupted by her friend's excitement.
"Wait, there's a difference?" She asked, her voice nearly drowned out by the storm beyond as she covered her ears in a feeble attempt to block out the thunder.
"We should probably get out of here and hang out somewhere else! The storm's getting even worse, and I'd rather not get caught it in if it decides to go sideways!"

Suzanne Morgan

"How can a storm go sideways?"
It was a genuine question from the strawberry blonde girl as the rain continued in the backdrop of their fateful meeting. Without a sense of self-preservation, she took another sip of liquid courage in a bottle.
"It all kind of tastes the same. At least. I remember it all the same, but I think my tastebuds are fried."
She stuck out her tongue and pointed at it with her open hand, more exaggeration on her part. Suzanne stood back up, nearly slipping and falling again in the process, grabbing Zofia by the wrist. It was as gentle as a drunken lady could manage.
"Come on then. Let's go! Off to my lair!"
Once more Zofia would be relieved of the voices in her head at Suzanne's touch. For as long as they remained in contact the chatter would cease, leaving just the two of- living specters in the pouring rain.
"It's not really a lair, it's just my house- an apartment actually."
Perhaps even friendships could be forged in the pouring rain, over the reincarnation of a bottle of liquor and consumption of baked goods. Dramatic as always, the demon would no doubt prattle on about her life and hilarious events perpetuated by substance abuse in the city.

[Type 1: Basic Action (-0 EP)]

Zofia Faust

She blinked several times as Suzanne's question lingered in the air before a quiet laugh managed to hiss between her teeth as the realization dawned upon her, "It’s just a saying I've heard. Something to do with the wind!" She explained over the storm's raucous call.
The raven-haired woman tilted her head before shrugging, "Guess that'd make sense if you eat and drink a lot! I'm still a bit shocked everything tastes... Vibrant? It’s hard to describe, I'm not used to it, it’s a bit overwhelming!"
Her ethereal eyes followed Suzanne as she sharply stood up, widening as the strawberry blonde nearly tumbled in the process. Zofia jumped out of her a moment before the other woman caught herself, her hands extended in an attempt to keep her from falling; only for her new friend to grip her by the wrist.
It wasn't the most gentle, but it was a far cry from what she was used to. The comforting silence that came with Suzanne's touch making their proximity even more tolerable as the voices and echoes of dying timelines faded into oblivion.
"Lair--house? Ah, an apartment? I haven't seen any of those, but I'd be happy to see yours!"
Heedless of the rain and emboldened by the budding friendship bound by reality defying liquor and an overpowering storm, the curious woman set out wrist-in-hand with her debatably unreliable guide out into a world unknown.

Type

Record, Historical

Medium

Digital Recording, Text

Authoring Date

July 10, 2021

Authors

• Suzanne Morgan
• Zofia Faust