A Dash of Chili Powder

77

[Sasori did it. >< he's a...weird character. Rukia needs a drink D:]

Rukia grinned widely, again, and clapped her hands together, again. "This deserves a toast!" she yelped, raising an arm and waving her hand about to call over a waitress. Settling back into the cushions of the booth, she smiled more, closing her pink-lined red eyes. 

She drank. A lot. Alcohol was her addiction, just like gambling was her caretaker's - from when she was little - addiction. Tequila, Bloody Mary, vodka, lemon vodka, whiskey, red wine, white wine, punch, screwdrivers, Jaegermeister... It was all a drug that gave her a tingly liquid high and lowered her already low inhibitions and heightened her already high sense of joy. She was a giggly drunk. 

And she couldn't handle too much alcohol. A full glass or two would get her buzzed. Three full glasses got her giggling. Four got her completely drunk. Five just got her mute and stupid.

The funny thing is, she liked it.

"Yes, ma'am? What can I get you and your friends?" 

She didn't even notice when the waitress had come over and almost jumped at her voice. "Oh! Ah, hmmm... Do you have any white wine?"

Oh good kami. She was a damn drunk. 

Kazuki frowned and mentally punched something. His long time friend was vastly different from who she used to be. Well, not really. She's still a hyper girl that's absolutely oblivious to everything, she still sings, she's still sweet... But she has new habits. Drinking, killing, stealing, matchmaking. She was the same, yet different.

He couldn't deal with it. Didn't know how.

Amaya rolled onto her other side, releasing a tiny sneeze in the process, and snuggled up to the warm lump next to her. She couldn't remember much, didn't want to. This was comfortable and warm. Why not get lost in it? She scooted a little closer, the warmth flooding her and she wrapped her arms around it.

Warm. So warm...

[Bleh...]

Gracie

[*frozen it's-so-cute face* Ami~ >w<]

Scythe could feel his insides twist. Alcohol? Ughh. Already he could imagine his stomach's violent protests. Spicy food was one thing, but putting a literal poison into one's system of one's own accord--

You know what? No.

It's been three years since his first drink. He'd been seventeen, stupid, and around a bunch of drunk, older assassins who could get violent if he didn't buddy up and get hammered. And that one drink had been at least a zillion-proof shot. That was the only reason why he'd gotten so violently ill.

This was a friendly toast. Besides, it wasn't like Rukia was daring him to a drinking contest.

"Uh, can you get me the lightest thing you have?" Scythe asked the waitress, who looked surprised that he'd spoken up. "No, seriously - 1% proof or something. ^^;"

Rage was a heavy sleeper. Once his head hit the pillow, he was out. And when he was out, he didn't wake up until his body God-damned felt like it. A fire could break out around him and he'd still be fast asleep. It was a mortal weakness for an assassin to have, but he was always with the insomniac Scythe, so it'd never been a problem. So it'd never been solved.

Right now he was barely awake with no conscious mind whatsoever. Everything was instinct.

He felt something small snuggle into him and wrap its skinny arms around him. He frowned a little, eyes closed, consciousness threatening to come to him from the unfamiliarity of this gesture.

Who would embrace him while he slept? Who would embrace him at all? This was a small person--

Awaji. He must have had a nightmare about his master's death again. Rage instantly relaxed and forgot about it, drifting back into unconsciousness as if letting go of the rope holding him up. His last notion was of how odd Awaji's temperature was - he was colder than usual....