voidtreckerexpress | A Sad Drunk

Who: Joss Fitzthomas and close CR only, please
When: Fiddlesticks 27, late evening
What: Newly human child breaks into his foster father's liquor stash. It does not go particularly well.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption by a juvenile. Also Joss angsting about his backstory, probably. And don't worry, Tony's 100% going to ground him after this.

You don't get to be six hundred and eighty-one years old without learning a few things. For Joss, it was music and art and languages and literature...and also how to lead a life of petty crime. He's an accomplished pickpocket, yes, but where his talents truly lie is in lock picking. The lock in Tony Stark's workspace that is supposed to keep tiny hands away from his liquor stash is no match for Joss's cleverness. Picking it takes all of about thirty seconds.

He takes a smallish bottle of an amber liquid that he's going to pretend is scotch and holes up in a corner of the standard carriage with some pilfered snacks. Time to buckle down to the serious business of drinking.

He realizes, ten minutes later, what a truly awful idea this had been. He's drunk. Three largeish swallows and he's drunk.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

So much for canceling his premium membership to club insomnia. Peter's not going to be going to go to sleep anytime soon. He was really headed to the movie car to focus all his emotions on fictional characters so he happens upon Joss by accident.

He frowns at the newly human child, his eyes landing on what he knows is alcohol. What exactly is he supposed to do in this situation? He knows what the 'adult' thing would be but what's the right thing?

He moves further into the room and pauses. "Hey, mind if I join you?"

Joscelin grunts and moves over, just a beat too late. His eyes are glazed, glasses askew, and he's swaying a little in his seat. "Suit yourself. 's a free train, innit?" Oddly, his overly posh accent is quite corrupted by modern Londoner when he's this deep in the sauce.

Once Peter is settled, he might find that the usually prickly boy who hates being touched is snuggling up against him. He hands Peter the bottle.

"Here. I nicked it from Stark's liquor cabinet. Decent stuff, this. For what it is." He sees no harm in sharing his bounty with the much older and simultaneously much younger boy.

Peter should probably try to get him to stop drinking right? Before he makes himself sick? He settles in and lets Joss curl in closer. He's a little tense but he relaxes soon enough.

He took that from Tony? Peter looks down at the bottle as it's shoved in his hands. If he drinks this he's probably going to be in a world of trouble. But it would also keep Joss from drinking anymore.

Bottoms up?

He offers a small shrug and takes several gulps-the alcohol burning his throat. He stops, pulls the bottle away and coughs roughly.

"Holly shit, that's strong!"

Joss smirks, but the effect is somewhat lessened by the fact that he keeps going rather cross-eyed. "Told ya. It does the trick. Got me drunk in record time." He giggles absurdly, practically in Peter's lap by this point.

"I can get drunk now. I can get drunk, I'm getting taller, and I can be in the sunlight without my ring. I'm a real boy now, and I didn't even need a cartoon cricket to get there. Just had to get my idiotic arse shot."

He goes quiet for a second.

"I'm scared. Of all this. Being human terrifies me."

Peter tenses up again as Joss climbs further into his space but he ignores it and just takes another long drink of whatever this stupidly strong stuff is.

"It okay to be scared." He assures the other boy. "It'd be weird if you weren't really. Being human's a mess and there's so many things that can go wrong in the blink of an eye. But, you've got a lot of people here that'll do whatever they have to, to protect you." He offers before looking at the bottle again. Like drink a whole bottle of bourbon, apparently.

"You know, I used to wear glasses. And had asthma."

Joscelin steals the bottle off Peter and takes another long pull, spluttering a little at the burning in his throat. While it's not exactly top shelf stuff, it really does do the job.

"Why?" He looks at the bottle. "I'm a nuisance, a poncy little brat, more trouble than I'm worth. Why do you bother with me?"

He's asked this question before, to others, and has never been satisfied with the response. Can't they seem that he's not worth it? He can take care of himself (except when he can't). So why does he always look for the one thing he can't have: a family?

"You said that before. Now that's me. Maybe I ought to get bit by a magic spider and become a superhero."

Peter frowns as Joss takes the bottle. The whole idea was to keep him from drinking more. He leans his weight up against the wall, starting to feel his cheeks going warm as the alcohol starts to take effect.

He snags the bottle back and takes another long drink-he's going to regret this but he has to finish the bottle and then maybe replace it so Tony is none the wiser about this? Even if he's pretty sure the moment he steps out of this room he's gonna run directly into him.

He listens to Joss's question and honestly he doesn't have an answer for that because in his own low moments he often wonders why anyone puts up with him. He takes another drink.

"I-I don't know how to answer that, Joss." He finally admits. "I mean... that's just how I am? It doesn't really matter to me 'cause you're just... important. and that's a fact. and I have to protect everything that's important to me. And I mean-I'm a curse-I'm walking curse-I've lost or will lose every father-figure I've ever had-my parents died in a plane crash-I mean I was five so I don't really remember them all that well-and now May seems to be missing so I'm definitely more trouble than I'm worth. And I'm expensive. I'm way more expensive than anyone should be with all the therapy and hospital bills." He sighs and rubs at his forehead.

"Nah, I got uh-lucky-as weird as that is for me to say-it was radioactive and it could have killed me. It still sucked-a lot. And I'm like eighty percent sure someone tried to kill me after the fact. I dunno for sure but like how likely is that I almost got hit by a car days after I got bit? But I mean-it's me so probably pretty likely."

Between the two of them (mostly Peter), the bottle is now almost empty. Just a couple of swallows remain. Joss looks disgruntled and reaches for it when Peter takes it away, but he isn't fast enough. "That was mine, he points out, without much heat.

He closes his eyes and listens to Peter's litany of woe. "You sound like you're repeating something that you've made up to justify being miserable, not something you actually believe," he says, philosophically. He only slurs it a little. "I don't think anyone blames you for needing any of those things. I mean, you have an aunt who loves you." His eyes suddenly burn. "I've lost everyone too. Over the centuries. I never had a family to begin with; my mother was a frightened teenager who was out of the picture by the time I was four or five, and I ranked somewhat above the horse but below the dogs in my father's affections. Then a woman turned me into a vampire because she wanted a pet, not a child. I was happy when she died. I didn't know it then, but I was. I kept trying to make a family, but they always got taken away from me.

"And then I had one and it was going to be forever and I was happy but I got pulled away from it and wound up here. I can't go back."

He sighs.

"I have centuries of memories but nothing felt as real as where I was right before I came here. Sometimes I wonder if they're even mine. Maybe there are two of me and I just ended up with the Other Joscelin's memories somehow."

After that, he steals away the bottle and drains the last of it. It turns out to be a bit more than two swallows and leaves him gagging.

Peter takes the bottle back and gives it a sharp shake. Empty. He can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed. Disappointed, a voice immediately tells him. He was going to drink the rest so Joss wouldn't get any more drunk and he couldn't even do that right. No wonder everyone leaves.

He pushes the thought out his head though it's a little harder than it should be and just listens. He wants to say something encouraging but the best he can do is just pull Joss into an uncomfortable hug-sorta. He's still a little iffy about close contact but he'll do his best.

"I-I don't know what to say. I mean-you got here so there must be a way to get back-I would think? I-I don't know though. None-none of us know, I guess." He admits, setting the bottle on the ground.

"You know, I always look for my uncle on platform day-knowing my luck though it'd be like the vulture guy, or Flash, or Skip" He makes an uncomfortable face. "I mean it's the people though, right? The make things feel real? Maybe more of your people will show up someday."

A Sad Drunk

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