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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 12, 2007 14:07:25 GMT -5
Ian sat in a large chair against one of the enormous windows, wondering why he was torturing himself with the light, and decided his approach to a hangover was to push past it. Even so, the words on the pages of the novel on his knee blurred frequently and set his head to sharp pangs. He narrowed his eyes, sitting aideways in the chair, his feet on the seat braced against the arm, and shut his eyes against a wave of nasauea.
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 12, 2007 14:09:49 GMT -5
"HEY THERE!!!!!!!!"came a shout from the doorway. Brandon strolled in, making each step a bit louder than the last. "YA FEELING OKAY?!?!" he asked/ shouted, just to torment ian. "DIDN'T HAVE TOO MUCH TO DRINK OR SOMETING?"
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 12, 2007 14:15:48 GMT -5
Ian's eyes snapped open and despite a sudden desire to ease the pain by leaping through the glass he turned to Brandon and snapped, "What's your issue, Diggorced? Do you live and breathe just to torment me?" He didn't know why he said that; this was only an isolated incident but he had the funny feeling Brandon had pissed him off another way and maybe that was just his own awkwardness at having been vulnerable in his presence. "Shut the fuck up before I transfigure your tongue into a tapeworm."
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 12, 2007 14:21:23 GMT -5
"Why yes, yes I do live to tomrnet you," Brandon said with a grin, no longer shouting. "But seriously, are you okay? I mean with zach and jean at the bonfire and all......"
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 12, 2007 14:23:56 GMT -5
Ian screwed his eyes shut again, remembering only a bleary haze of alcohol and Brandon snagging his wine. He didn't even remember seeing Jean-wait . . .maybe he had walked in at some point but they hadn't spoken, had they? Ian didn't think so. "I remember Zack and I were drinking wine and you stole it if that's what you mean."
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 12, 2007 14:27:27 GMT -5
"I'll give you a hint," Brandon said, taking out an item from his robe pocket. It was a golden object that resembeled a pocket watch, but there was a strange aura emmiting from it. He held it in front of Ian. "Do you know what this is?" he asked sternly
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 12, 2007 14:41:35 GMT -5
Ian looked at it, then at Brandon. "I fgure its counting down the hours til you next manage to get laid, which is why it's glowing like that . . .numbers just don't go that high." He had no idea what it actually was.
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 12, 2007 14:55:15 GMT -5
Brandon cast a glare at Ian. "No, you imbecile," he snarled. "This is a time turner. Anyone with a third-year education should know that. It allows you to go back in and view time. i got it from the headmaster to handle my double-major, but I think this will serve a greater purpose. It's time to get warm by the bonfire" He hung the chain around their necks, turned the dial, and watched time unfold.
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.
Uh, hi." Zack said just as softly, a bit confused.
"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.
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.
"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.
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.
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.
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.
"I don't really pay attention." Jean admitted sort of laughing. "At least not to that." He scratched his head and shrugged. "But she's really hot? " He asked rhetorically, sitting up and laughing softly to himself. "Girls aren't really my speed... but if I see a," He lowered his voice to a mockingly 'jock' tone "Really hot", he made a short laugh, " girl I'll tell her you were asking." Realizing he might've given away more than he'd wanted in his actions which were aimed more to amuse himself than anything else. He sort of stiffened, glancing away for a moment realizing Ian being drunk could be good or bad in such a situation.
Ian really did wish Killy would show up at that moment to alleviate his sense of disorientation; he was chaotic enough that with the effect of the alcohol he didn't really notice what Jean had implied. "I didn't . . . " he whispered, not even sure what he was talking about; the words just slipped from his lips without a clear source. He'd been in a fine mood for a moment, nearly manic with the lack of misery, and it had cascaded downward quickly; he fought to stop any further descent. "I wasn't . . . " He stared at the bottle of wine and sighed, picking it up and sipping it far more delicately, tasting it and not guzzling like before. "Yes, the ocean is very nice." Ian shrugged and sighed loudly, the base of the bottle on his knee as he looked drunkenly at the appearing stars, which had decided, apparently, that for tonight they had no wish to remain stationary and swirled about in dizzying little arcs as he looked at them.
Jean sighed, relieved that the entire thing had hit alcohol and dissipated, or at least it seemed so. He looked at the fire for a white then turned to see Ian, "Think you should go rest or something? You're libel to fall into the fire like that." He watched as Ian looked at the stars. " 'can see 'em every night." He added remembering Ian's first few comments to him. He'd grown, as was common, slightly attached to the idea of a friendship with Ian. He found him completely strange, yet, he didn't know many people he could call friends, and Ian didn't seem to mind the idea himself.
"Normally they don't dance like that," Ian replied, unsure of whether that was a good thing, as staring at them didn't make him feel all that fantastic. He swallowed suddenly and brought his head back down, rubbing at his face which felt warm. "I'm fine, thanks. I think I shouldn't tilt my head like that anymore though . . ." His hand slid to cover his mouth briefly as his stomach argued with the alcohol, but it passed, bringing back that light and airy warmth.
Jean nodded lightly, "Suit yourself..." He said sitting up. He sighed and stood. "Well don't kill yourself." He added brushing himself off. "I'll be off then, paper to write..." He found the sandal he'd lost in the sand and slipped it on. "Night." He said as he walked away from Ian and the fire. He'd wanted to get away, still slightly nervous about before. He didn't think Ian had any real idea of anything, he would probably forget everything come the hangover, but being safe was best. As he got further away he disappeared into dark.
Brandon, who was waiting behind a tree with Ian, looked over at his companion. "see?" he whispered
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 12, 2007 15:15:47 GMT -5
Ian couldn't see his own thoughts of the previous night. He saw himself grabbing a bottle of vodka and looking at Zack; yes, it was an odd expression but surely there was a reason for it, such as what appeared to IAn to be accidental proximity, or perhaps Zack's nipple rings which were unfamiliar. He heard Jean's implication and covered his mouth to keep from laughing, nodding a little at his own response. His eyes narrowed at Jean's derogation of Wolfsbane bonfires, and he sighed at his own failure to defend them articulately. Ian promised himself to do it later. The Wolfsbane watched himself in the sand, drunk and shaky . . . why had he been so shaky? That much was odd . . .he must have had a great deal to drink. Ian listened for a bit, sighing, apparently the alcohol had taken over for his words had not been too much. At Jean's departure which left Ian in the sand, he turned to Brandon. "So? What's all this? Take us back and explain yourself."
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 12, 2007 15:24:46 GMT -5
Brandon sighed, realizing that he had not finished the job. He turned the turner back a faction of an inch, just long enough to return to where this bonfire scene began. Muttering "Truthavocus" on the campfire Ian, both the present Ian and Brandon were allowed to hear Ian's thoughts.
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 12, 2007 15:33:37 GMT -5
"Stop it. I want to go back," Ian said angrily, and his face was fully of fury and fear at this unfamiliar thing. "This is all . . ." He took a deep breath, and a little step back. Ian grabbed at the time turner in his own hands and twisted it forward, sending them away from the scene and back to the sunroom. He stepped away from Brandon quickly and stared at him in horror. "You did it. You with your . . . pills . . .that's all it was. I should have known not to trust you."
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Post by boingpop on Apr 12, 2007 15:35:27 GMT -5
Jean, who was sitting on the other side of the room looked up to see Ian and Brandon in what seemed like an argument. The odd thing was, he didn't remember them standing there a moment ago. He scratched his head and tilted it slightly. Watching them, wondering what was going on between the two.
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 12, 2007 15:36:17 GMT -5
"Ian," Brandon said softly. "You know that's not true. You know you've felt this way before. I know. I can see it in your face. It's so obvious to the trained eye. This feeling was started long before you even knew about the pills. It's time to face the truth."
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Post by Ian Flanagan on Apr 12, 2007 15:45:56 GMT -5
"Shut up, Brandon! Just because you had that thing with my brother you think you know things . . . you think you're so wise . . . you don't know what you're talking about. Stay the fuck out of my head! You don't know anything, so just fuck off!" Ian said, his raised voice echoing through the open space into more of a bellow.
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Post by Brandon Diggorced on Apr 12, 2007 15:49:28 GMT -5
"Oh really," Brandon said, maintaining his calm exterior. "Do not forget Ian, that I too could hear your thoughts. Your intents were as clear as day. It's nothing to be ashamed of, and if you hide it, then it'll just emerge uglier than ever and perhaps even dangerous. So your different, unique. It's not a bad thing."
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