Allison Argent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theresalwayshope) wrote2014-09-22 09:20 pm
theresalwayshope) wrote2014-09-22 09:20 pm
013} the cheapest stuff is all i need / to get me back on my feet again
[Duke has...a lot of interesting stuff in his cabin.
Allison found this out when she was trying to straighten up to distract herself. The place is already fairly neat, so it's a useless distraction from Lydia's snub, from her own impotent fury and the bitter sting of not being trusted by her own best friend. Her heart's not in it...but it wasn't hard to find Duke's liquor.
Or his pot...but she quickly put the joints back where she found them.
She didn't consider the bottle of vodka in his cupboard for long, however, before she got herself a glass of ice and poured herself some. She's never had anything stronger than beer, she doesn't really know what she's doing...but it burns going down, and she feels better in the aftermath of her first sip, loose and warm and good.
After two half glasses, she hurts less. After four, she's well past tipsy. On her fifth, she's well aware she's dangerously close to drunk...so she sips carefully at her next, though she's no longer sure what number drink it is.
When her comm flickers on some time later, the video shows her slouched bonelessly over the kitchen counter in Duke's cabin, her head in her hand. The bottle is visible in the frame, and Allison is visibly fascinated by her drink as she swirls the clear liquid in her glass, ice chinking pleasantly against the equally clear surface. She likes the noise, it's soothing...cheerful.
She's no longer staring at the camera. She seems to have forgotten she flipped her comm on as she mutters to herself, apparently having an internal conversation out loud.]
Stupid boys. Stupid Lydia...Jackson Whittemore is not the biggest douche bag I've ever met, y'know? If you'd...just...had some hot chocolate you'd know that. Jerk...jerkette. [She pauses, smiling a little, amused with her jibe. Her features, however, immediately crumble as she sets her glass down and lets her head thunk against the counter. When she speaks again, she's nearly shouting.]
DUUUUUUUUUKE! Why are you comafied?! I DON'T KNOW IF THIS VODKA IS BAD!
[She pauses, then reaches for her glass as she lifts her head just enough to take a sip, talking around the glass in a very small voice.]
It tastes awful.
[She takes a tiny sip, then smacks her mouth and licks her lips.]
It tasted awful.
[She has another sip, then seems to realize her comm is on and blanches, setting her glass down and reaching for the bottle nearby.]
Hey, guys? Guys! I need to know, 'cause...'cause Duke's comafied. Does...
[She trails off, midway through uncapping the bottle. Torn between remembering what she's drinking and pouring more, she makes an intense and carefully executed operation of pouring more into her glass while nearly pressing her nose against the label of the bottle.]
...vodka give you hangovers? 'Cause I don't want a hangover. I just don't want to be sad anymore about...
[She trails off, and she remembers. Lydia turning her away, Lydia pushing her away. Because that was inevitable, wasn't it? First her best friend, then her best friend's boyfriend...then her werewolf, then Scott, then Kira and Isaac and then she'll be an omega with nowhere to go...
Setting the bottle down, Allison picked up her glass and took a long, healthy swallow...then set her glass down and made a face of pure disgust, complete with her tongue sticking out as she shuddered theatrically.]
Ilch.
Allison found this out when she was trying to straighten up to distract herself. The place is already fairly neat, so it's a useless distraction from Lydia's snub, from her own impotent fury and the bitter sting of not being trusted by her own best friend. Her heart's not in it...but it wasn't hard to find Duke's liquor.
Or his pot...but she quickly put the joints back where she found them.
She didn't consider the bottle of vodka in his cupboard for long, however, before she got herself a glass of ice and poured herself some. She's never had anything stronger than beer, she doesn't really know what she's doing...but it burns going down, and she feels better in the aftermath of her first sip, loose and warm and good.
After two half glasses, she hurts less. After four, she's well past tipsy. On her fifth, she's well aware she's dangerously close to drunk...so she sips carefully at her next, though she's no longer sure what number drink it is.
When her comm flickers on some time later, the video shows her slouched bonelessly over the kitchen counter in Duke's cabin, her head in her hand. The bottle is visible in the frame, and Allison is visibly fascinated by her drink as she swirls the clear liquid in her glass, ice chinking pleasantly against the equally clear surface. She likes the noise, it's soothing...cheerful.
She's no longer staring at the camera. She seems to have forgotten she flipped her comm on as she mutters to herself, apparently having an internal conversation out loud.]
Stupid boys. Stupid Lydia...Jackson Whittemore is not the biggest douche bag I've ever met, y'know? If you'd...just...had some hot chocolate you'd know that. Jerk...jerkette. [She pauses, smiling a little, amused with her jibe. Her features, however, immediately crumble as she sets her glass down and lets her head thunk against the counter. When she speaks again, she's nearly shouting.]
DUUUUUUUUUKE! Why are you comafied?! I DON'T KNOW IF THIS VODKA IS BAD!
[She pauses, then reaches for her glass as she lifts her head just enough to take a sip, talking around the glass in a very small voice.]
It tastes awful.
[She takes a tiny sip, then smacks her mouth and licks her lips.]
It tasted awful.
[She has another sip, then seems to realize her comm is on and blanches, setting her glass down and reaching for the bottle nearby.]
Hey, guys? Guys! I need to know, 'cause...'cause Duke's comafied. Does...
[She trails off, midway through uncapping the bottle. Torn between remembering what she's drinking and pouring more, she makes an intense and carefully executed operation of pouring more into her glass while nearly pressing her nose against the label of the bottle.]
...vodka give you hangovers? 'Cause I don't want a hangover. I just don't want to be sad anymore about...
[She trails off, and she remembers. Lydia turning her away, Lydia pushing her away. Because that was inevitable, wasn't it? First her best friend, then her best friend's boyfriend...then her werewolf, then Scott, then Kira and Isaac and then she'll be an omega with nowhere to go...
Setting the bottle down, Allison picked up her glass and took a long, healthy swallow...then set her glass down and made a face of pure disgust, complete with her tongue sticking out as she shuddered theatrically.]
Ilch.
no subject
[She blinks, only just registering what Scott said about telling people what to do.]
But you can. You're the Alpha--you do. All the time! You could...you could tell her she's being stupid. We all do what you tell us to.
no subject
[That just - it boggles him, and he knows he should put it aside, she's drunk, he shouldn't have this conversation with her now - but he's been wondering more and more, why people want to follow him - why they have faith in him - why they ever think he knows what he's doing, or that his plans are good. His plans suck. He gets people killed. He has to grieve, and watch other people grieve, and be strong for them, and--
He doesn't' say any of this. He just shakes his head.]
Never mind. Lydia's never stupid - what's going on with you guys?
no subject
We do what you say 'cause you always do...what's right. You're not cruel or petty or...or violent, you're just good. So you do the right thing, every time--you don't even think about it, you don't even know you do it! You just...do.
We follow you 'cause we wanna be like you. And we can't, 'cause we're not...True Alphas. But...but when we try? We can almost be the kind of people you think we are. And that's so, so important, Scott. You know that, right?
no subject
I'm not - you make it sound like I'm...
[He shakes his head. He doesn't want to be some great - he doesn't even know. Some amazing werewolf, or leader, or whatever he is. Being a true alpha is - he knows it's special. He knows it's rare, but he doesn't get why. All he wanted, all he's wanted almost from the start, is to be normal. To have a good life. To protect the people he cares about.
And he's failed that. He's failed so much - he's failed her.
He shakes his head again and swallows hard before he looks up at her.]
I know what kind of people you are. You're not that way because of me. [Because he can't possibly have that big an influence on...anybody.]
no subject
Stains on the soul, and real, lasting faith in something. The kind of faith Allison never knew existed until she was lucky enough to love Scott McCall.]
If it wasn't for you, I'd...I'd never have stopped after my mom died. I would have...I'd have turned into Gerard. Or worse: my mom. And...and--and the Code, Scott. We Protect Those Who Cannot Protect Themselves.
It's not my Code, it's yours.
no subject
[Scott rakes a hand through his hair. That's hard to hear - because even after everything, how can he blame her? She lost her mother. Her mother. He can't imagine what he would have done, had Deucalion killed his. How could he tell her what Victoria Argent had tried to do to him, when she was mourning?
How can he say she's not a good person for not being able to grieve the death of her mom?
He swallows hard, and shakes his head. Allison Argent is still perfect to him. It doesn't matter that she's changed. She's just grown. She's adjusted to a harder life, like they all had to. And he still thinks she's perfect. It kills him, a little, that she can't see it.]
Allison, I didn't come up with it. You did, and it was exactly what we needed.
no subject
[And he'd won. Gerard had won that night, and he was going to get everything he wanted. There was no one else to save them, no one else to stop him.
Except Scott. Scott, the Beta who became his own Alpha that night and rescued them all, and without spilling blood. Not even Gerard's...he'd be spewing black ooze for the rest of his natural life, but he didn't have to kill her grandfather.
And he'd done it all after he'd been promised the only thing he'd ever truly wanted: her.]
You made the Code...and I follow it. Every Argent follows it--because--'cause you're the Alpha. And we're your Betas...and I follow it so I'll do the right thing.
'Cause...I won't. I don't, Scott, I-I don't on my own.
no subject
[He's surprised by how strangled that sounds, and he takes a moment to swallow, to clear his head and shake it off.]
Allison, you were - amazing. You're still amazing, you're...
[He needs to get better at speeches. He needs to sort out how to say these things, how to make people believe what he says, and not just what he does. He wants her to believe in herself the same way he believes in her. Maybe the same way she believes in him.]
It's our code. And I know you'll do the right thing, because you were the one to put words to it.