an american aquarium-drinker. (poeticpathetic) wrote in deadly_syntax,
an american aquarium-drinker.
poeticpathetic
deadly_syntax

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Title: Stiff Drunk Revolutionary
Author: Madison (notmyvoice@aol.com)
Rating: Not sure.
Summary: Guess who!








"Buzzing and I’m flying..." He mumbled, hunched over the lines of white powder he had doled out for himself. There were pills of every color left for consumption but he sighed, waiting. This was a catalyst, a way of getting things going so that everything else he set up behind it smashed down like the dominos she lined up for him time after time. "Everybody’s trying too hard."

She materialized in the Parisian doorway, her shoulder nudged against it. Sighing, she watched as he destroyed himself (or rebuilt depending on how one wanted to look at it), she wandered over, her hand sweeping over the little decoration of pills and scooping them into her own hand. "This is just a guess, but less is more than more now." A moment of wisdom from the woman in charge, her lungs deflating in another sigh. "Step outside."

He grumbled in protest. It was clear he didn't want to. "It’s colder than hell."

The blonde siren leaned in closer, fingers wrapping in a threat at his collar. "But I’ll make sure you’re terrified."

He followed her obediently, ranting the entire way with a hand lifted and gesturing at her. "You could never say I could never play, but you got some." The blonde rolled her eyes at his words as she pushed the door open, reaching for the cigarettes she carried with her at all times. He was right. It was freezing out there. Handing one over to him, she watched as he swayed, inebriated and smacked up on too many chemicals. Any minute now and he'd be flying.

"You’re www.smashedinthemorning.com." She laughed, watching as he caught a snag in his step, regaining balance, but just barely. Continuing on, she lectured with hands rotating. "It’s a matter of decision making, who you want to be. Stiff drunk?"

That suggestion made him snicker a little, head nodding in excitement. Yes, he wanted to be as obliterated as possible. But it was the second suggestion that had him seriously sobering.

"Revolutionary?"

She noted his interest and nodded. Yes, this would work quite well. Dragging off of her cigarette, she motioned towards him once more. "I think we could talk things over if you’d come by at a quarter to midnight."

Immediately, he cried out in a blurry, drunken shout, spinning around in excited circles.

"You’re so loud! You’re waking up the neighbors!" She scolded, reaching to snag his arm. Her own mouth was twisted into this laughing smile she didn't want to give him. It would only encourage him.

However, it was clear that he wanted no encouragement. Lifting his hand, he smeared fingers across her face, fingertips dropping over her eyelids in an attempt to close them. "I’ll act out ’cause I’m buzzing for you."
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