laυra roѕlιn (
cabins) wrote in
undergrounds2017-08-17 08:52 am
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Entry tags:
what will we do when we're sober? (wine plot!)
August 15
One of the things Laura always did to try to take care of herself was running. She loved it, a brisk jog through the park, though now with school out, her runs were becoming longer and longer. She loved using it as an excuse to explore the city and it's green spaces. That way, she could always come back on the full moon, when she had more control.
Stopping on a bench in Hyde Park, Laura paused to catch her breath pulled out her bottle of water. The bottle was opened effortlessly, but the trouble began as soon as she lifted the bottle to her lips. The water would not touch her lips.
Frowning at the bottle, she looked at it. It was plenty full. She tried again. Nothing.
Well. She was a well-educated former-witch of a woman. She knew what this meant.
She was cursed.
Later on August 15
Okay, no water. She'd tried again when she'd gotten back to her flat, but there was no drinking it. Showering was fine, but when she opened her mouth to try to get water, there was nothing. Not a single drop hit her mouth.
So after the shower, Laura had gotten creative. She emptied out her fridge and began to go through everything, trying to take sip after sip of milk, orange juice, iced tea. Nothing.
Nothing, except for the dark green bottle she had. Honestly, she hadn't thought to try wine- after all, wine? But beer had wielded no results, and neither had an attempted shot of vodka. Not to mention, the later it got, the thirstier Laura was.
"Frak it." She said to the empty apartment, and pulled the cork out of the bottle. She raised it to her lips and at long last, took a nice long drink.
Well. Shit.
August 16th
So wine it was! Laura Roslin had found something she could drink, and that was great, but she knew the thing about water was that you needed it, or you would die from dehydration. Not a fun way to go. At least most of her foods contained water (there was a lot of celery in her, right now) so she could hopefully prolong her inevitable death long enough to find a way to get rid of this curse.
This is what brings Laura to the grocery store, her cart filled with a few different bottles of wine. Her water bottle contains the same, and by the time she makes it out of the grocery store, her eyes are a bit heavy and she can tell that the wine is having it's effect on her. Not like she can even drink water to try to sober up.
At least, Laura thought as she left the store, she wasn't in the middle of work.
August 17th
Frak it! It was day 3 of nothing to drink but wine, and by the time Laura made her way to the den, it was clear that this forced bender was no good. Her skin was pale, her cheeks red, and gods damn it if she wasn't really fucking thirsty. Wine did nothing to quench thirst, though she'd been trying to convince herself that.
She missed her magic.
Sitting in the kitchen, her glass of wine in front of her as she tried to at least pretend she was doing something productive. Her eyes lazily followed another one of the pack members as they started a new pot of coffee.
"I'd kill someone for coffee right about now," she muttered, taking a sip of her wine. Nope, still not coffee.
Fuck.
(feel free to make your own during the three days that Laura is forced to only drink wine.)
One of the things Laura always did to try to take care of herself was running. She loved it, a brisk jog through the park, though now with school out, her runs were becoming longer and longer. She loved using it as an excuse to explore the city and it's green spaces. That way, she could always come back on the full moon, when she had more control.
Stopping on a bench in Hyde Park, Laura paused to catch her breath pulled out her bottle of water. The bottle was opened effortlessly, but the trouble began as soon as she lifted the bottle to her lips. The water would not touch her lips.
Frowning at the bottle, she looked at it. It was plenty full. She tried again. Nothing.
Well. She was a well-educated former-witch of a woman. She knew what this meant.
She was cursed.
Later on August 15
Okay, no water. She'd tried again when she'd gotten back to her flat, but there was no drinking it. Showering was fine, but when she opened her mouth to try to get water, there was nothing. Not a single drop hit her mouth.
So after the shower, Laura had gotten creative. She emptied out her fridge and began to go through everything, trying to take sip after sip of milk, orange juice, iced tea. Nothing.
Nothing, except for the dark green bottle she had. Honestly, she hadn't thought to try wine- after all, wine? But beer had wielded no results, and neither had an attempted shot of vodka. Not to mention, the later it got, the thirstier Laura was.
"Frak it." She said to the empty apartment, and pulled the cork out of the bottle. She raised it to her lips and at long last, took a nice long drink.
Well. Shit.
August 16th
So wine it was! Laura Roslin had found something she could drink, and that was great, but she knew the thing about water was that you needed it, or you would die from dehydration. Not a fun way to go. At least most of her foods contained water (there was a lot of celery in her, right now) so she could hopefully prolong her inevitable death long enough to find a way to get rid of this curse.
This is what brings Laura to the grocery store, her cart filled with a few different bottles of wine. Her water bottle contains the same, and by the time she makes it out of the grocery store, her eyes are a bit heavy and she can tell that the wine is having it's effect on her. Not like she can even drink water to try to sober up.
At least, Laura thought as she left the store, she wasn't in the middle of work.
August 17th
Frak it! It was day 3 of nothing to drink but wine, and by the time Laura made her way to the den, it was clear that this forced bender was no good. Her skin was pale, her cheeks red, and gods damn it if she wasn't really fucking thirsty. Wine did nothing to quench thirst, though she'd been trying to convince herself that.
She missed her magic.
Sitting in the kitchen, her glass of wine in front of her as she tried to at least pretend she was doing something productive. Her eyes lazily followed another one of the pack members as they started a new pot of coffee.
"I'd kill someone for coffee right about now," she muttered, taking a sip of her wine. Nope, still not coffee.
Fuck.
(feel free to make your own during the three days that Laura is forced to only drink wine.)
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"It's too early to drink, anyway."
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Mostly just teasing, at least.
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