Teenage girls being teenagers.

[alphatar]

Characters: Zatanna (backwordscompatible), Korra (alphatar), Closed;
Date: October 13th.
Location: The Brazen Turtle
Situation: Zee and Korra talk about their amnesia trip and other things while getting plastered.
Warnings/Rating: Underage drinking (Zatanna is one year under the drinking limit of 16 for the bar), Possible swearing. Will edit if anything else comes up.


The colder weather meant there weren't nearly as many patrons at the Brazen Turtle. Most stay indoors, only going out if absolutely necessary. A few of it's employees have been staying at home, so Korra's manning the bar with the last few late night drinkers leaving before it gets any colder now that the late night hour was approaching.

Unfussed by the cold and more annoyed that the heating had to be turned on, Korra started on keeping the bar stocked. Not that it really mattered since it was empty and likely would be for the rest of the night, but it gave her something to do while she waited for Zatanna.

Comments

[backwordscompatible]

It was a true testament to just how far gone she was that Zatanna...when faced with the overwhelmingly disapproving hiss of her dear Big Brother...only looked up at him with a sleepy smile. As happy to see him as she was blissfully unaware of the lecture to come.

"Kyle!" His ring would pick up no less than four drinks' worth of alcohol in her system. Though the number might be higher, considering what Korra added to the latter rounds. "Missed you."

[imaginate]

His expression darkens to a glare, and he studies the ring readout irritably, flicking through the screen. Her blood-alcohol level was through the roof, and he entertains a brief thought of hanging Korra over the side of the building, or maybe fifty feet up.

(He lets it, and feels no guilt. He's had enough of beating the anger down.)

'Let's get you home,' he says, forcing himself into a kind of manic calm, springs coiled under his skin, ready to snap at the right trigger. She wasn't going to hear anything he said right now, and he needed some time to cool off in case he went ballistic.

[backwordscompatible]

Oblivious to the dark thoughts being entertained against her friend, Zatanna nods her agreement to the plan. That had been why she called him, after all. Maybe. Probably.

"Yes, please. 'M tired." She sat up a little straighter. Ready to either attempt to stand, or resign herself to being picked up. A yawn escaped her just then. "I should've brought a pillow. The floor's not as comtorfa...comfa...comfy as I thought." Words were still a slight issue.

[imaginate]

He flicked his wrist, and the bar cleaned up - broken bottles swept away, glasses washed and sterilised, everything put back as it was, as though no one had come here and nothing had happened.

Then, he picked her up, gripping a little harder than he would, but not enough to bruise.

'I'm taking you home,' he snaps, grumpy. 'You can spend tomorrow hungover, you silly girl.'

[backwordscompatible]

"My her-ow." She winced when his grip on her arm grew too tight, but otherwise snuggled very contently against his chest and repeated: "My hero."

Tomorrow, nothing; she was already starting to feel the after effects. Her head was a bit light. Her vision was blurry. Sounds were beginning to agitate her, so she simply buried her ear against his chest and listened closely to the sound of his heart.

"I feel funny."