Surprise, Bitch!

[Moira Prewett]

DATE: August 1st, 1885
@'Vertiline Faulkner'
OUTFIT
WORDS: 165
NOTES:

Having not been dwelling on her questionable feelings for her dead brother, Moira was a little confused at Verty's remark at first, until it sank in and a feeling in the back of her head told her that she had just revealed something she oughn't have. "You're so funny," she retorted, hardly sounding amused. "I don't see you doing any better, at least my brother wasn't a woman!" Had she been more sober, she might have said it unkindly, but it came out flippant more than anything else. 

Moira let her mind wander as she pondered her own words - a married brother was better than a married woman, surely? She tried to compare the two in her mind but didn't get very far, she did come to the conclusion that had she gotten as close to her brother as she had Verty, she'd definitely have missed the latter's bosom. That thought made her blush and then promptly cackle into the side of her lover's neck. 
 

  

[Vertiline Faulkner]

Her laughter abated enough for her to hear Moira's words, flippant though she needn't guess that had they been more sober she'd have been more unkind. Perhaps without the help of an intoxicant, she would have found Moira's impromptu admission about her feelings for her brother bizarre. But at that moment, it was just funny. To have feelings for her brother and a woman. Clearly Moira's heart had no idea where to steer itself!

"Well I'm glad that your heart doesn't seem to play by society's rules." She said with a still amused look on her face as she felt Moira's warm breath against her neck as she gave what could only be described as a cackle. After all, if Moira tended to love people that she oughtn't then really that only worked in her favor. It was for that very reason that the pair of them were sat there, close in a way Verty had only dreamed possible and honestly she wouldn't want to change that for the world.

Lazily she reached a hand up to half-pat, half-stroke Moira's cheek. "I'm glad you love me." Her tone was wistful in a way as she remembered the days when she had thought Moira would never be able to know how she felt, the days when she still thought the love she had for her best friend were disgusting. She was glad those days were gone, though.

  

[Moira Prewett]

DATE: August 1st, 1885
@'Vertiline Faulkner'
OUTFIT
WORDS: 269
NOTES:

After the pat on the cheek, Moira lazily raised her head to look at the blonde, though it was done from so close up that she was almost cross-eyed. "Well I'm glad that you're glad that I love you," she drawled, absently brushing a strand of blonde back behind Verty's ear. Leaning away from her, Moira appeared to examine her intently for a few moments. In reality, she was spacing out a bit. 

After a short while she snapped out of it and set to removing her shoes. Once off, she stood up, giving a precarious wobble at first before steadying. Her empty glass was in one hand, and with her free hand, she grabbed for Verty's empty glass. "For someone so short, you'd make a terrible house elf!" she complained, heading for the table where Verty had stuck the wine bottle, sway a little as she walked. She managed to fill up her glass with minimal spillage, but she didn't fair so well with Verty's and poured the drink all over her hand and then got some on the floor. "I meant to do that!" she snapped defensively. Eyeing both glasses, she decided Verty's wasn't full enough and topped it up, miraculously not slopping it everywhere. Not yet, anyway. As carefully as she could considering the circumstances, she tried to walk the drinks back but she had filled Verty's glass too high and started to spill it. "Argh! It's running down my arm, take it off me! Take it off me!" Moira clamored impatiently, holding the glass at arms length and freezing in place on her tiptoes mid-stride.
 

  

[Vertiline Faulkner]

Verty was too lost swimming in the nice haze of alcohol to really notice Moira's inelegance by this point. Instead, she was just feeling warm and happy that Moira was glad that she was glad that she loved her. That was good. Though Verty never doubted that Moira loved her, it was always nice to have something close to verbal verification of the fact. Still, though, despite the haze she couldn't help but notice when Moira got up - swaying - and Verty was certain to keep an eye on her love who seemed to be walking on unsteady feet.

It wasn't a shock that she was going for the wine and her comment on her height made her giggle. She was always taunting her for her height and in that moment it was funny to Verty that she was shorter than average while Moira was taller than average. The thought was actually rather amusing to her but when Moira spilled some wine she was distracted from that amusement. Even moreso when she started spilling more over herself and whining for Verty to get it off of her!

She went to Moira as quickly as possible (albeit unsteadily) and did the only logical thing of putting her lips to the overflowing glass and drinking some so that it wasnt so full before she plucked the glass from her hand. "You have wine fingers." She said with a laugh at Moira's now wine-soaked fingers.

  

[Moira Prewett]

DATE: August 1st, 1885
@'Vertiline Faulkner'
OUTFIT
WORDS: 111
NOTES:

Thankfully she was rescued from her grape-y predicament. "Well you've got wine face," she retorted, reaching out and wiping her hand on the blonde's cheek so her words actually made sense. Finding this most amusing, she chuckled with satisfaction. "I can see where my fingers were," she observed, still laughing. 

Even though she had yet to stop chuckling, she helped herself to her own drink with some difficulty. It would seem coordinating laughter and drinking with ease, wasn't a skill she had at present. "Wait, wait, don't move!" Dipping her index finger into her wine glass, she tried to rouge Verty's cheeks with red wine. 

"Perrrfect!" Moira's laughter grew louder. 
 

  

[Vertiline Faulkner]

She sputtered in surprise when Moira wiped her wine-fingers against her cheek. Mercifully, she had no wine in her mouth at the moment. It would have been unfortunate to spill wine from her mouth - very wasteful indeed! But the sputtering lasted only a moment before it gave way to giggles because Moira was being silly, laughing and trying to sip her own wine with some effort.

"Don't waste the wine!" She gave a pout that was far too happy looking to really be a pout when Moira dipped her fingers in her wine and - once again - went to rubbing it on her cheeks. Moira's exclamation and recurring laughter did little to help Verty try to seem petulant - before long she was grinning ear to ear with cheeks that were apparently colored with wine.

"You're silly," She teased, drinking a gulp of wine. She was not going to waste it on foolishness!

  

[Moira Prewett]

DATE: August 1st, 1885
@'Vertiline Faulkner'
OUTFIT
WORDS: 157
NOTES:

"Well you look silly!" she retorted, half-stifling her grin. The floor beneath her feet had felt a little unsteady when she had first gotten up but now that she was stood still, it seemed to be getting worse. Or maybe she was just noticing it more now. "Stay!" she ordered like one might a dog - plus mild inebriation.

Moira took a sip of her wine,n grabbed Verty's shoulder for support, and from there clumsily lowered herself to the ground, using the blonde's leg for stability at one point. Somehow she managed to keep herself from spilling her wine. "Oh this is most unpleasant!" she declared, grimacing up at Verty. "Very unnatural!" Her grimace became a disgruntled scowl and she sipped her wine again. "I hope I look better from this angle than you do, because this is really not the best view. I wouldn't have even sat on your probably clean floor if it were still...er."
 

  

[Vertiline Faulkner]

Verty gave a start when Moira demanded that something stay. She had assumed the words to be directed at her, but when Moira made to steady herself on Verty and lower onto the ground, it became apparent that the drunken dizziness must have settled in. And that was funny. Even funnier still was Moira's apparent displeasure at being on the ground.

"You're prettiful at all angles." She'd not said the word she'd meant to but she hardly cared as she went about lowering herself to the ground in front of Moira. She was not quite so graceful in that her wine did indeed slosh over her hand. She pouted and gave a whine, quickly making to lick her fingers clean before it could get sticky because ew.

  

[Moira Prewett]

DATE: August 1st, 1885
@'Vertiline Faulkner'
OUTFIT
WORDS: 227
NOTES:

"That's better," she mumbled once Verty had literally come down to her level. Seeing the wine spill caused her some slightly delayed laughter. Her laughter petered out as she watched with bemusement and bleary-eyed fascination as Verty licked her fingers. "You look like a cat doing that."

She finished her drink without diverting her eyes, and placed the glass down as far away from herself as possible. She wasn't quite inebriated enough to not care about needlessly knocking glasses over. The voice of sensible decisions in the back of her head was warning her not to procure any more wine unless she wanted to regret it. She was quite fine with that.

With no drink to hold her attention, she had only Verty to focus on and as such, once again felt compelled to be close to her. It wasn't like normal, however, she felt far more at ease with doing whatever struck her fancy where usually she felt a great need to restrain herself. Moira leaned toward the blonde and slipped her arms around her waist, tugging her closer as if she was a teddy bear. "You're always so small, I like that you're small. It's very... What's the word, Verty? I can't think of the wor- Sweet. But it makes you seem so delicate, promise you won't ever break?" Her words were mostly mumbled.