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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 10, 2007 19:42:56 GMT -5
Ian put the bottle of wine on the ground and followed it down, awkwardly coming to a stop with one hand supporting him over the sand; he settled himself down and looked at Zack. "Hi," he said, still staring at him as though he hadn't known Zack for years. "Lexi left."
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Post by Zachariah Moore on Apr 10, 2007 19:44:33 GMT -5
Zack looked around, realizing Lexi must have gone for her clothes. "Hi" He said looking back at Ian and smiling drunkingly.
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Post by boingpop on Apr 10, 2007 19:45:19 GMT -5
Jean wondered to the bonfire, watching everyone from the side as he usually did when not with people he knew. He'd decided to come only to see what Ian found so great about the things. He noticed Ian, who seemed quite drunk, and smirked to himself. He was really an odd person.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 10, 2007 19:50:59 GMT -5
Ian barely noticed Jean's arrival as that would have required he be more aware of his surroundings than what was right in front of him; he was quite drunk at this point and for some reason (he was only vaguely aware of this fact) not yelling about Killy. Ian reached across Zack to where the vodka sat on his opposite side and grabbed it, as he brought it back his hand grazed Zack's chest, the back of his arm touched one of the nipple rings and Ian froze suddenly, vodka halfway brought over, and turned his head slightly to look at Zack's chest, then his eyes flicked up to Zack's face. "Hi," he said again, very softly, not moving but quite close.
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Post by Zachariah Moore on Apr 10, 2007 19:54:22 GMT -5
"Uh, hi." Zack said just as softly, a bit confused.
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 10, 2007 19:55:56 GMT -5
Brandon sat there, a bit grossed out by this moment. He caught site of jean and smiled at him.
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Post by boingpop on Apr 10, 2007 19:59:29 GMT -5
He smiled to Brandon. Then looking back at Ian, Jean laughed to himself as he watched Ian, shaking his head slowly. With another small laugh he sat down in the sand, pushing it with his feet to make the spot more comfortable. His knees bent, he rest his arms on them creating a platform on which he could rest his head and finish watching what he hoped would be an interesting display. A thought crossed his mind as he sat there, but he pushed it away, not caring that if Ian saw him he could no longer make fun of the bon fires. He resolved that if Ian did see him he wouldn't remember it later anyway.
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 10, 2007 20:02:22 GMT -5
"uhh Ian?" Brandon whispered. "Remember Killy? You're girlfriend?"
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 10, 2007 20:09:31 GMT -5
Ian's face went nearly as red as his hair as he dragged the vodka the rest of the way to himself and laughed softly. "Sorry, man . . .I'm drunk I think." He tore his eyes away from Zack's confused stare and looked at the doka, taking a quick sip before handing it back to Zack and reaching for his wine, he stood, face flushed from any number of things, stumbling over the sand in bare feet as he tried to balance without tipping the bottle of wine. He looked up and saw Brandon and that other Kinrick . ..Jean . . .over off to one side. Ian looked confused as he tried to come up with a dark quip on Jean's presence, and settled instead for a bleary-minded failure. "Thought you didn't lower yourself to Wolfsbane bonfires."
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Post by boingpop on Apr 10, 2007 20:14:22 GMT -5
"Thought you preferred girls." He said with a smile as he turned his eyes back to the fire. He closed them halfway and shook his head again slowly before looking back at Ian with open eyes, rolling them and chuckling once more. With a small smirk remaining on his face, he once more stared into the fire, light reflecting on his face.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 10, 2007 20:24:01 GMT -5
Ian's face darkened a little. "You must have me confused with my brother," he said coldly, though the borders of his tone were liquid, melted and softened by the wine he still gripped. The flush in his cheeks increased; he lifted the wine to his mouth once more and found he couldn't quite swallow as he tried not to think about that daze he'd just snapped out of or the way Zack had looked in the light of the bonfire or any of it really. He forced down another gulp of the wine and washed the thoughts down and away.
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Post by boingpop on Apr 10, 2007 20:27:56 GMT -5
"Right." He replied, not pushing it he himself wouldn't have enjoyed that himself and he wouldn't do it to someone else, even Ian. Jean moved his arms, falling backwards. He now lay on his back with his legs bent. "Is this it? Fire and drinking?" He asked chaning the subject for Ian's benefit more than his own. "At least we dance." He added referencing his own house's parties.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 10, 2007 20:37:25 GMT -5
Ian snorted. "We have the ocean." He nodded, and dared to glance back at Zack. "And when some people aren't making scenes we talk." He shut his eyes and shook his head. Ian sat down again and gather the sand into a clump,, performed a quick Aguamenti and formed the damp sand into a bottle holder, setting the wine into it and glaring defiantly at Jean, as if daring him to challenge anything at all. His hands were shaking slightly.
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Post by boingpop on Apr 10, 2007 20:44:34 GMT -5
Jean looked over at him and made a face as if to say, 'Didn't say a word'. He wondered exactly what went through Ian's mind, he really was strange at times. "The ocean is nice I suppose." He finally told him, realizing the silence wasn't getting them anywhere and he was starting to fear Ian might attack if he gave him motive. Small talk, he figured, would be the safest thing at the moment.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 10, 2007 20:56:00 GMT -5
Ian was silent for a long time; well, it wasn't really that long but it was weighty enough to feel like it. Finally he said quietly, "Have you seen Killy Brooks about? I very much want to talk to her. I mean, I really really want to see her. Badly. If she's around I'd . . . yeah. She's in my house, Wolfsbane, really hot girl you may have seen her about?" Ian stopped babbling and looked through the crowd but didn't see her.
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