Lost But Not Found [[Prent, Open]]

[Lulu]

Everything that felt so right is wrong, now that the love is gone.

The day was rainy and dark; the gray, overcast sky made it seem more like nighttime than three o'clock in the afternoon, which was what it really was. This wasn't the norm for a Summer day in Panem.The atmosphere suited Heidi Cross's mood, though. Well, seeing as she was unhappy nearly all of the time now, a day like this would always suit her mood.

Eariler that morning, following her recovery from a particularly long night of hallucinations, she'd decided it was time to make a trip back home. Not because of an urge to see her parents--ugh, no. But because she'd been wearing the same outfit for the past week: a black hoodie and light colored jeans. Both were items she'd had since she was about fourteen (Heidi had stopped growing by her early teen years), so even without the grime they became coated in from the filthy District Eight streets they were in terrible shape. It was time to change

And maybe she'd snatch a couple of twenties from the safe behind the picture frame in her parents' bedroom. A hundred or so would get her a few good trips, if she used it sparingly. She didn't have enough to waste any on food. Besides, she was rarely hungry anymore. If she desperately needed something to eat she'd find something; steal it, maybe. Thievery wasn't a big deal to her anymore, because ever since she'd left home the morals she'd grown up on had become nonexistant.

Around eight she started heading down the familiar street that led to the house she'd grown up in. It was a nice townhouse in the better part of Eight; her family had never been bad off like most of the district's citizens. But this area was one the apprehensive eighteen year old stayed away from lately; wouldn't want to run into any old acquaintances, would she?

Her parents commonly left for work at seven, so they should be long gone by now. That was the plan, really; sneak in, grab what she needed, leave. If they weren't home she could probably use the door, but just in case she'd climb up the fire escape to the window of her old bedroom. It was always unlocked; she'd left it that way when she'd run away the first time, the day of Jared's funeral. And even though her parents must have noticed, they always kept it open anyway. It was like they nursed a constant hope that the next time their daughter climbed through that window she'd be returning for good.

Well, she wouldn't.

Getting in was easy. Once she climbed into the room she went straight to the closet, not pausing to survey her surroundings. The bed with the purple plaid comforter and the desk laden with all of her personal items would be too painful to observe closely, a constant reminder of what she'd willingly lost. In theory, she could always return to it. But that was much easier said than done.

She grabbed a couple of clothing articles without really noticing what they were and left the room immediately, unintentionally slamming the door behind her. Once in the hallway she took a moment to compose herself, breathing deeply. No, this was no good. She had to stop thinking about the past, it was useless. Besides, life was better now. No more pain. No more loss. No more love.

It was easier in her parents' room. She didn't miss them much. She was too numb to miss them, she'd made it past the missing part. Now thoughts of them were just like bothersome flies to her; when they crossed her mind she could swat them away without feeling a thing. So she went straight to the picture frame, purposely averting her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the picture inside it--a family portrait, taken just a few years previous--and lifted it off the hook it was on. She was about to put in the combination that would unlock it when suddenly she heard a voice in the doorway.

"Heidi?"

It was a hesitant, soft, feminine voice, the first voice she'd ever heard when she'd been born; a voice that hadn't spoken to her since she'd left last year. But it was impossible to forget the voice of your own mother.

Heidi swung around, her stomach turning unpleasant cartwheels in her abdomen. This wasn't supposed to happen. Why wasn't she at work? Why was she home? This was supposed to be a quick trip to grab a couple of necessities, it wasn't supposed to have...complications.

Her mother's eyes, precisely the same shade of chocolate brown as her own, gazed at her searchingly, even hopefully. "Are you--" she began, but she stopped before she could finish the sentence. Heidi knew what she'd been about to say. 'Are you back?' That was the one thing she knew her mother wanted most of all. She wanted her daughter home. But Heidi Cross was through bending to fulfill the wishes of others. What mattered now was herself, and only herself.

"You look..." Her mom's voice trailed off again as she stared at her in disbelief. Horrible, Heidi finished in her mind. Yes, she did look horrible. But did she care? Not in the slightest.

Her mother's next words surprised her. "What do you need? Money? Food? Anything?" she asked, desperation in her eyes. When Heidi didn't respond, her voice took on a slightly more hysterical tone. "Please, just tell me!"

But Heidi just stared at her, willing her expression to remain apathetic because she knew if she let her guard down for even one moment she'd probably burst into tears. It wasn't worth it. She couldn't take anything from the house now. She didn't want her family to think she needed them for anything, anything. She stood alone now. So because of that, she dropped the clothes in her arms, ran to the window, unlocked it and went outside, leaving her mother standing in shocked disbelief.

Of course, now she had no clothes or money. Convenient.

Oh, she needed a trip. She needed a nice, long trip that would make her see other things, unreal things, things that were less distressing to face than the present. She needed drugs, and she needed them now. But she was pretty much broke.

That wasn't going to stop her from trying, though.

An hour later she made it to the hideout of a dealer she knew, in an alleyway between two unfrequented factory buildings. "Brick!" she hissed harshly into the shadows. Why he called himself Brick was a mystery to her, but she didn't care enough to question him about it.

His face appeared from behind a dumpster; he was blinking as if her call had just awakened him. "Whozat?" He muttered. It was obvious to Heidi that he'd been tripping the night before, same as her.

"It's me, stupid!"

[/color] Heidi growled. "What do you have?"[/color]

"Iz nine in the mornin', what the hell d--"

"What do you have?" [/color]She repeated, more urgently than the last time. He grunted and stumbled to a standing position, but looked more awake right away.

"What do you have?" He asked her, raising his eyebrows. Rather sheepishly she reached into her pocket and pulled out the only remaining bill she had; a crumpled up five. He glared at her dubiously. "Five bucks? What d'yeh expect to get with five bucks? I ain't givin' yeh nuthin for five bucks!"

"Oh, come on. Anything!"[/color]

"No way, man!" As he spoke he retreated back behind his dumpster. "Come back when yeh've got more cash!" She knew he wouldn't talk to her again now. Not until she came back with more money. So, pissed, and in desperate need of a drug, she stalked out of the alleyway.

She was unsure of where to go. Her current residense was a corner of the bottom floor of an abandoned warehouse, but she had no wish to go back there yet. It wasn't a very welcoming place. So, with no destination in mind, Heidi cross stumbled around the street, refusing to think about everything she'd lost. [/blockquote][/size][/color]

[Prenten]

I'm the kind of girl you'll find stealing from the cookie jar. Of course, by cookie jar, I mean a rich guys house.

Myror

I woke up in a haze. Where was I? There was a bang and I swiveled my head to the side.
"A barn?"I asked aloud. No, it wasn't a barn. Well, it didn't matter anyways. I shuddered as she remembered the cold, damp building of her horrible time as a sex slave. This wasn't it. I stood up, slung my backpack over my shoulder and tore out of the building. Suddenly I was assaulted by a massive headache.
"I got drunk last night..."I growled to myself. How did I manage that? I patted my cargo pants. I wasn't out any money. Did I meet a boy? Oh no. No, that couldn't be it. Maybe I stole the booze from a store? That sounded right... I was probably getting desperate. It didn't matter. I could steal some medicine, some food, and get home. And sleep. That sounded great. Sleep. I hurried down an alleyway, and headed toward the drugstore. Then it began to rain.
"Wonderful!"I snapped. A great way to compliment my splitting headache and upset stomach. Thank you Mother Nature! I smiled. Some Mother. I reached the drugstore and slipped quietly into through the back door. I was in their storage room. Running along the aisles of stored medical supplies, I searched and searched. There was one medicine I loved. It tasted like candy and it worked wonders. I found it and ran toward the door, knocking an entire shelf of medicine over.
"Shit!"I yelped as the shelf crashed to the floor. My adrenaline kicked into over-drive, and I forgot about the intense pain in my face, and the sloshing alcohol in an empty stomach. There was a cry of a man as I left the building and hurried across the street, and into an alley. I kept running. I was sloppy. I could have gotten caught. Alcohol does that to people. I steeled myself against the on-rush of pain again and headed toward the grocery store. All I needed was some bread and peanut butter. Comfort food. I smiled again. Why do I feel like a girl who just broke up with her boyfriend? I quietly slipped into the store through a window and snatched a couple loaves of bread and a jar of peanut butter. Throwing them into my backpack, I fast-walked back to my window, careful not to knock anything over. I slipped out and hurried down an alleyway toward our...my house.
"Almost home.. Almost home..." I chanted. A fourth wave of pain slammed into me, and I nearly came down to my knees. I continued to sprint, hoping to get home before... SLAM! I flew into something, and crumpled to the street. The pain was unbearable. A picture of my father flashed though my mind and tears formed in the corner of my eyes. No, I can't cry. Not now. No. I staggered to my feet to apologize. I wiped the rain off my face and put on a pathetic smile.
"Sorry."

[Lulu]

As the rain continued to fall slowly, Heidi found herself questioning why, exactly, she hadn't killed herself already. It wasn't the first time she'd brooded over this. In all reality, she had lost the will to live a long time ago; the final day of the 54th Hunger Games, to be exact. It was either continue to do what she had been doing since Jared's death, throwing herself away slowly, or speed up what was guaranteed to happen regardless and end her miserable life. It would be easy; she could use pills. Just one simple overdose would send her into oblivion; why prolong the inevitable?

Though she hated to admit it, the eighteen-year-old burnout knew the answer to that question. Why prolong it? Because she was a coward. She was weak. She was frightened of killing herself. It wasn't so much she was afraid that it would hurt; she'd welcome the pain. It would be a different pain, as opposed to the one that stemmed from constant longing for Jared which would never go away no matter how much she attemped to numb it. No, she was scared of what may come after death. It's not that Heidi was a particularly religious person; she wasn't even sure she believe in any higher power. It was just...well, if there was a hell, of any sort, then she was pretty sure she would be going to it. And eternal damnation was not high up on Heidi's barren list of priorities.

So that was why, pissed at the world and looking for an escape of any kind, Heidi Cross had not resorted to suicide. She wasn't ready for that. Maybe it was on her horizon, but not yet.

She probably looked disgusting to the few pedestrians she passed that were gutsy enough to brave the rain shower; hair resembling a rat's nest, clothes that hadn't been washed in quite a while, large, dark hollows under her eyes from lack of rest and drugs. She couldn't care less though. Screw them. They were all going about their normal lives, free of pain and suffering. They, at least, still had the will to--

Heidi gasped in surprise as something suddenly collided with her. As she regained her focus, angry and annoyed, she saw a girl in
front of her, looking nearly as disheveled as herself. Now that was saying something. "Watch where you're going," Heidi hissed with a disgusted glance in the direction of her newest obstruction. She was about to walk away in exasperation but something about the girl's appearance stopped her.

She looked...hungover.

"Hey! You got booze?"

[/color] she demanded."Fork it over!"[/color] Oh, how she needed something right now. Anything. Though alcohol wasn't an addiction of hers like shrooming was, it was still a distraction, and one she'd welcome. [/color][/size][/blockquote]

[Prenten]

I'm the kind of girl you'll find stealing from the cookie jar. Of course, by cookie jar, I mean a rich guys house.

Myror

Booze? Awesome. Just great. I look like any run-of-the-line drunk. I let a deceptive smile crawl across my face, and I looked up into the girls eyes.
"I may look it, but I'm not a drunk. And no, I don't have any booze. All I've go.."I stopped. I probably shouldn't tell this girl what I have. She's probably just as hungry as me. Judging by her appearance, I'm probably right...
Erm.. Uh, I've got nothing. I'm going home. Uh..Now."Damn. Why does this girl make me so nervous? I turned quickly, readjusting my backpack and began to run toward my house. My head still hurt, and my vision was blurring. Shit. Alcohol really messes you up...

[Lulu]

Heidi raised an eyebrow as the girl spoke. She wasn't stupid; it wasn't hard to tell that this girl had consumed alcohol at some point in the past twenty-four hours. Heidi knew the signs, having spent most of the past few months with various drunks, druggies, smokers, and other questionable individuals. She'd grown accustomed to recognizing someone who had tripped recently, gotten high, or was suffering from a hangover. Unless she was very much mistaken, this little misfit in front of her had had a few drinks the night before.

She rolled her eyes as the girl ran away. Of course, it always happened that way. People saw an odd, filthy, angry looking girl like Heidi out on the street and automatically assumed she was going to pick their pocket or rob them in some other way. Nobody would mistake her to be someone violent, no, she was too small and fragile-looking to break out the fists. But a street teen like her could never be up to any good.

Some kind of vehicle cruised by on the road beside her, driving through a puddle and splashing the eighteen-year-old with a stream of murky water in the process. Heidi couldn't help but groan. Now she was even wetter and dirtier and before, which was pretty remarkable considering the state she'd been in before the water. Ugh. Her eyes traveled to the girl hastily moving away, and she debated whether or not to follow her. Well, she didn't have anything better to do today.

"I don't want your food, stupid,"

she growled, guessing at once what the girl had been about to say before she cut herself off. "I don't eat."[/color] Well, she ate sometimes. But that was a small detail. The last thing she'd eaten had probably been...a measly Cup-o-Noodles she'd stolen from the QuickMart the previous night before shrooming, just to get something in her hollow stomach. Stealing wasn't something that bothered her; it was necessary when you lived the way she did, especially if you spent a great majority of your cash on various drugs.

"Look, just tell me where you got the stuff. I'll give you..."[/color] she rummaged in her jeans pocket but once again only found the five she'd tried to pay for drugs with earlier. "Five bucks. Come on."[/color] Her voice was growing desperate as it sometimes did, and when that happened it lost it's hard edge. She sounded more like the girl she'd been a year ago; soft, kind, far from intimidating. She'd never survive out here if she turned back into that girl. She needed to keep up appearances. And her lack of drugs wasn't helping.[/color][/size][/blockquote]

[Prenten]

I'm the kind of girl you'll find stealing from the cookie jar. Of course, by cookie jar, I mean a rich guys house.

Myror

"Look, like I said. I'm no drunk. I may look it, but I'm not. I have no clue where I got the drinks, and I woke up in some dark building and I have an exploding headache, and I think I'm going to be sick. I only have a little bit of bread. I was just on my way home!"I noticed my voice had risen to a yelling volume. I cast my eyes back down and let out a cough.
"Look, if you really need something, come to my place. There might be something there. How about it, friend?"
What was I doing? I was inviting some random girl into my house, for drinks. This girl was obviously an addict. This girl was skin and bones. This girl was probably contemplating slipping a knife between my shoulders to shut my rambling, idiotic mouth up. This girl, this girl. Then it hit me. This girl was a reflection of me. I looked up and stared into her eyes. She even looked at me. A little, anyways. And her life. Her life was probably no better than mine. Unhealthy, upset. Overall, just plain bad. I did a mental shrug. Oh well. What's the worse that could happen? I mean, I can hold my own in a fight. Hell, I've fought men bigger than her. Mind you, they were drunk... Either way, if I died, it would be a welcome relief from this pounding headache. Another assault from my stomach came and I swallowed. I needed to get home, now. I turned on my heel quickly and headed to my house. Swiveling my head, I looked at the girl through the corner of my eye.
"You coming?"

[Lulu]

At one point in time Heidi would have been unsure of accompanying this girl into her house, but for different reasons than she was now. She'd been a small, fragile girl who seized up with crippling shyness every time she talked to a stranger. She'd be afraid. But she'd have relished the fact that the girl in front of her, however hungover she was, had just referred to her as 'friend'. Due to her hesitance to talk to people, she hadn't had many friends. Except Jared.

Now, though, the word 'friend' just pissed her off more.

"Friend?" Heidi couldn't help but give a small snort of disgust. "Trust me, you don't want to be my friend..." Her words were mumbled, so there was a chance that the other girl hadn't caught them. But they were true. Friends of Heidi Cross would more than likely find themselves involved with drugs, conversing with questionable people, and spending a large amount of time just wandering the streets. Not to mention the broken, coldhearted person they were attempting to befriend.

It was true, though, that this girl herself didn't look as if she lived much better than the stringy blonde-haired teenager herself did. Of course, she obviously had a house, which was more than Heidi could say for herself. But other than that, she looked sort of...hollow, same as her. Like there was a piece missing, somewhere inside, and she was attempting to fill it with alcohol or, in Heidi's case, drugs. And then there was the look of depression about her because no matter how hard she might be trying, that piece just wasn't filling up. It would remain empty, forever, and she'd continue to throw herself away trying to fill it, forever...

Heidi hated the way that so obviously described her.

The girl turned back to look at her through the corner of her eye, asking 'you coming'? This question caught the eighteen-year-old slightly off guard. Was she coming? Normally at this point in her life, when someone invited her into his house he was male, and he wanted...well, something different. And if Heidi happened to be high or drunk enough, she gave it to him. But this was a girl, who seemed to be dealing with a situation very like her own. Besides, what else did Heidi have to do anyway? This would get her out of the rain.

Taking a few cautious steps towards the house, she muttered, "Fine."

[/color][/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Prenten]

I'm the kind of girl you'll find stealing from the cookie jar. Of course, by cookie jar, I mean a rich guys house.

Myror

I heard her mutter something about 'not wanting to be her friend'. I stopped and waited until she caught up to me.
"Not deaf. Don't mutter." I said clearly. "The way things are right now, we all need friends. Whether they be a drunk like me, or a girl like you." I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She looked... forlorn. Forgotten. Broken. The shell of a person. We turned the corner of the liquor store's back wall, and my eyes wandered to the wooden door into the back. I licked my lips. Should I? No. Will I? Maybe... I stopped and stared at the building. I could just... slip in. And then my problems would go away. The pain. While pondering my actions, another wave of sickness hit me. "Oh yes..." I moaned quietly. I needed it. I threw my backpack and quickly threw the door open. I I snagged a bottle of some kind of wine and exited the building. I hooked my hand onto my bad and hopped up a pile of crates and onto the roof. I tilted my head toward the girl still on the ground.
"Come on." I said with a flick of my wrist. I shrugged and turned toward the rows of roofs. I could see my house. I began to hop across the small gaps. Quickly my adrenaline faded and I realized my actions. What was I doing? My father used to call me Alli. Agile. Lithe. Light. Inquisitive. Now i was destroying Alli. A wave of pain. On second thought, Alli doesn't matter. Myror does. I continued on with my roof-hopping until I reached my home. I slipped down the awning and into the door.
"Welcome to my home." I sighed to the girl. Assuming she was still there. Otherwise I was talking to myself. Which wasn't uncommon to begin with. An attack of nausea exploded and I steadied myself against my couch. I guess I better go rid myself of... Whatever my body doesn't like. Setting my backpack filled with bread and peanut butter, and liquor down on the floor, I ran toward the bathroom. I almost didn't make it...

OOC: Finally found a color combo that works. Sorry if I'm confusing you.

[Lulu]

Heidi couldn't help but narrow her eyes as the girl she was following told her to stop muttering. If this person thought she had the authority to tell Heidi what to do, well then, she had another thing coming. This was obviously a bad idea, following an apparently hungover girl into a house that was probably pretty crappy. But Heidi never did anything smart anymore, so what did it matter?

"Screw friends," the eighteen-year-old spat blatantly, in response to what the girl had just said. Friendship was unnecessary in Heidi's opinion; she'd tried it before, tried loving, even, but getting close to someone just left you cold and brokenhearted when the inevitable happened. She would never, never trust in friendship again. And this girl in front of her was going downhill by trying to kid herself with the notion that everyone needed a friend.

Her jaw dropped as she watched the girl slip into a door in the back of what was unsurprisingly a liquor store. So she was even more similar to Heidi in this way; a thief. But it wasn't the thievery that astonished Heidi, it was what she stole. "What the hell?"

[/color] she murmured. Of course, though, she could not resist her body's yearning for something, drugs, alcohol, anything. But wine, which was what the girl had stolen, wasn't strong enough. Without a second thought she did exactly what the other girl had done and slipped through the door. She found herself in some kind of storage room, with no employees around. Perfect. On swift feet she snatched a bottle of something from a shelf and slipped soundlessly back outside, only glimpsing at her stolen liquor once she was back in the rain. Vodka. Fantastic.

To Heidi's surprise, the girl had jumped onto a couple of crates and climbed up to the roof. She was beginning to regret following her even more now; did this drunk live on the roof of a building, rather than inside one? She didn't want to spend her afternoon sitting on some roof with someone who apparently valued friendship. Then again, she didn't want to spend her afternoon sitting inside a house with someone who apparently valued friendship, either. She wasn't going to win either way, but really, she never seemed to win anymore. So she continued to trail after her, climbing up the crates while clutching her bottle like a lifeline.

And then this girl started hopping across roofs.

Heidi had never been particularly agile, and she was even less in shape now because of her lack of excercise and excessive tripping. She got out of breath after running for less than five minutes, and even climbing stairs exhausted her. She wasn't sure how well this jumping thing would work out, especially with a bottle in her hands. She wasn't about to be intimidated, though, and besides, the buildings of District Eight were extremely close together, anyway, so there wasn't much of a gap. So she took a deep breath and...jumped.

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she made it to the other side and let it out. Okay, that wasn't so bad. She could do it again. By this time, though, the girl was already far ahead of her, leaping across from building to building like some sort of freaky flying squirrel. Heidi rolled her eyes, but followed.

She lost count of how many roofs she had to jump before they made it to the building that was apparently their destination. Then, warily clutching her drink, she slid down the awning, onto the stoop, and into the building just behind the girl who, not shockingly, ran right to the bathroom.

Heidi had interacted with many drunks before, so this was not surprising to her. So she simply waited until the girl reentered the main room before she spoke. "Too much to drink?"[/color] She spoke with an amused tone, sporting a slight smirk. Ignoring the fact that there were various other places to sit in the room, Heidi settled herself cross legged on the floor and examined the bottle of vodka in her hands. "Got an opener, or do I have to break it?"[/color][/color][/size][/justify][/blockquote]

[Prenten]

I'm the kind of girl you'll find stealing from the cookie jar. Of course, by cookie jar, I mean a rich guys house.

Myror

I stepped out of the washroom wiping my mouth on a rag and throwing it into a laundry bin.
"Too much to drink?" The girl asked sarcastically. I nodded and replied with a quiet "Mmm" and headed toward the kitchen. It was neat, and clean. Like the rest of the house. My dad had always kept it tidy when he was around, so that's the way I liked it. Like it was..before.
Got an opener, or do I have to break it?" She yelled to me. I shuffled toward a drawer and threw it open, the tinkling of clashing cutlery filling my head.
"Ouch..." I muttered, wincing at the pain of my headache."Yeah. I've got one kicking around here. Lemme find it." I called back. I began to sift through the silverware until I found a bottle opener. I headed back toward the living room and tossed the open toward the girl. It landed with a soft thud on the carpet beside her. I let out a sigh and swiveled myself toward the cabinet filled with pictures. My eyes caught the photo of my father, smiling as always. I slowly opened the door and faced the picture downwards.
"I'm sorry..." I whispered. A tear dribbled out of my eye. I turned and quickly wiped it away. Steeling myself, I blinked hard, forcing the tears back and sat next to the girl, legs stretched out across the soft carpet. I leaned my head back on the sofa and stared at the white ceiling. I had done so much work to that ceiling. Not to mention the tiny attic above it.
"Man.. what's this world coming to..." I asked myself aloud. I realized I still had a guest and my head came back up, and I faced her.
"Well. Welcome to my home. It's not a palace, but it's livable. And trust me, it took a long time to get it this way." I said with a smile. Stretching over to my backpack, I pulled out the bread and peanut butter. Luckily neither of them were too battered. Bread was still in its shape, fluffy as always. I put them up on the table beside me and pulled out the bottle of wine. I smacked the lid, and it came off cleanly, landing on my lap. I flicked it away and took a heavy swig. It tasted great. A lot better than the foul vomit taste I had. Picking up the remote from the sofa, I flicked the television on. A picture of President Snow and people practically worshiping him.
"More Capitol bullshit!" I snarled, turning the TV off, and flinging the remote onto the couch.
I sighed again and took another sip of the sweet wine.
Don't get too drunk now. I thought to myself.
"By the way... I'm Myrrr..or.." I said. My words were already getting slurred. Great.

[/size][/justify]

[Lulu]

OOC- Mkay, so Heidi's been reported and is now going to prison for the next week, so I figured I'd make this post to kind of lead into it? If you wanna report Myror, too, and have her go we can have a thread after they both do their sentences in which they're both all pissed about it^^ xD How about it?

As the girl sifted through what was apparently her silverware drawer, Heidi clicked her disgusting, filthy, dirt-caked nails against the translucent glass of the vodka bottle. She had stopped caring about how disgusting she looked; really, what did it matter if she had a change of clothes or not? She didn't mind, and anyone who did could go suck--

The disheveled teenager gave a slight jump as the bottle opener landed beside her with a muffled thud. "Thanks," she muttered as her eager fingers snatched up the metal object and fumbled with the cork on the bottle until it popped open. Perhaps a bit too quickly she tipped the bottle back and took a few gulps. It burned like fire going down, but that was to be expected; this type of vodka really wasn't supposed be be drank hard; it was meant to be distilled by some kind of juice. But Heidi didn't like the taste of sweet things anymore, and besides, what she needed right now was to forget. Even just for a little while. And vodka in all its glory helped her accomplish that a lot faster than if it had been mixed with a fruity beverage.

The buzzing feeling in her head was already beginning, so she continued to take small sips, hardly noticed the girl speaking about...some crap. She didn't know. But she did catch a bit about the house. "Pfft. 'Least you've got a house. All I've got is a street. Or a warehouse. Or maybe a drug den. Y'know, whatever strikes me as decent for the night." Heidi snorted and took another sip of vodka. Going on and on about palaces or something of the sort. Really, this girl talked far too much. She should just shut up...up shut...or whatever the term was, Heidi had a feeling she'd already drank too much to form correct phrases.

A flash of color in front of her. The TV's on, Heidi. TV? What was a TV again? Oh yes, the big box that showed pictures...it was funny, the more she drank the less it burned going down...how did that work, anyway? She wondered for a bit before she realized she didn't care.

"Hmm? Capitol bullshit..." Some remote corner of her brain registered that she was just repeating what the other girl had said. Then she noticed that the girl had announced her name. Myror. "Myror? Heh. Myrorrrr."

[/color] She laughed, even though there wasn't really anything funny about the name. "I'm Heid--"[/color] The eighteen-year-old stopped speaking for a moment to yawn. "Heidi."[/color]

Some time passed. She didn't know how much. Though drunk, she knew drinking up the entire bottle would surely be horrible for her health, and she didn't want to like...die, right? Or did she want to die? Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't. But maybe she did. Or maybe she didn't...

There was a banging at the door. A person? But whoever it was didn't bother to knock more than twice before barging into the house, somehow managing to unhinge the door. Through incredibly blurred vision Heidi saw a big man, a big big man in a white suit. At least, she thought it was white. It could have been red or purple or orange for all she knew. Her brain was really not accurately processing colors at the moment. So she settled on thinking rainbow. It was a man in a rainbow suit!

Peacekeeper, stupid! Her mind was telling her something as she stared up at the rainbow-suit man. She didn't really care what it was saying, though. Stupid mind. It'd gotten her into trouble before. Stupid, clingy, Jared-loving mind...

"You're under arrest for theft!"

Rainbow-Suit man was hissing at her for some reason. Of course, he could have been talking to Myror, but did it really matter either way? So she just stared up at him, flashed a dazzling smile, and help up her vodka bottle. "Hey! Would'ya like a swig?"[/color][/color]

OOC-Lmao, Heidi is obviously not good under-the-influence. But hey, it's fun to write out. xD[/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[Prenten]

I'm the kind of girl you'll find stealing from the cookie jar. Of course, by cookie jar, I mean a rich guys house.

Myror

"Yeah. A house. Right." I giggled. A house. Empty. A house of nightmares... Wait a minute. What were we talking about? A house? I shrug. It doesn't matter right now.
"Yeah. Myror." I sigh. Myror.. Mirror.. Hah. It is kind of amusing. I allow a smile to creep over my face.
"At least you've got a normal name, Heidi." Suddenly there was a loud banging at the door and suddenly a man exploded through the door, sending splinters across my clean floor. Peacekeepers! Damnit! The alcohol cleared from my mind and I darted upwards. What was Heidi doing?! Offering the drink to the PeaceKeeper?!
"Move it Heidi! Go, damnit!" I screamed at her, throwing the quarter-full bottle at the PeaceKeeper. It exploded into a mass of alcohol and glass shards on his armor. Quickly realizing that that was a mistake, I rebounded off the wall and flew through the thin glass that made up the massive window in the front of my house. I rolled out onto the street and darted down the road. Assuming that I was much quicker than the PeaceKeepers, I didn't look back. But it didn't matter they couldn't run. They had guns. I felt the bullet penetrate my back, but not much else. They next thing I knew, I was on the ground. Nothing. Boots. People talking. An explosion of pain on my temple. Blackness.

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