[Provisional RPG] Wasted [PG-13]

[madlilnerd]

A heavy, dark feeling swam across Babydoll's mind as she stared at the white powder on the desk in front of her. It was hers. She'd paid for it fair and square with money she'd earned. She wasn't hurting anyone but herself. Why shouldn't she take it?
She licked her lips and bent down, a rolled up dollar bill in her hand, and felt the sting of the drug at the back of her throat and the slowly rising buzz in her head. Laughing to herself already, she slipped into a white dress that made her look far more virginial and innocent than she felt, but paired it with dangerously high heels, a wardrobe leftover from her stripper days.
The street was yellow with pools of lamplight, and everything felt alive to her. She was herself, but she belonged to the white horse, to charlie and to the night.
It was party time.

[ILoveHarry]

Biancca didn't notice the cars moter had been shut off, and gave a startled gasp when her driver opened her door. He gives her an apologetic smile. "Sorry didn't mean to wake you. We're here."

"Thanks," she replies as she steps out into the openness of the city. "I won't be needing you again until around eleven tonight." She enters her hotel and goes straight to the elevator. She selects her floor and drums her fingers against the steel wall for the duration of the ride. When the doors open again, she steps into the corridor and makes her way to her room. Once inside, she goes to the bathroom and draws herself a bath. While waiting for it to fill, she crosses to the bedroom and places an order with room service. Afterwards, she disrobes and steps into the hot soapy tub. A smile comes to her face as she enjoys the relaxing euphoria.

[madlilnerd]

A few of the people Babydoll passed stared in confusion at the strange girl in white half twirling, half skipping down the street giggling maniacally. The buzz made the world a fairground of delight, a dancing stage for a girl who felt like responsibility had no place in her life. She turned a corner into an alleyway, still laughing at nothing. It didn't register in her cocaine drenched mind that she didn't know where she was. Nothing registered at all.
Especially not the shadows that now danced with her.

Nor did she notice the crunch of feet on broken glass behind her.

A man in a black bomber jacket with a small scar under his right eye slid out of the shadows and stood infront of Babydoll, his grey eyes demonically glowing in the little lamplight that had found it's way down the alleyway.
"Hello, sweetheart." His tone was slimy. The buzz took all sense away in her mind and she simply smiled at him. "My, my, someone's out late all alone..."
He circled her like a shark around an injured seal in the water. Suddenly, a wave of fear washed over her mind against the tide of the numbing buzz and made her feel as if she was nothing but weakness.
"Don't touch me!" she squeaked, with about as much assertiveness as a small rodent.

The man drew back his forearm and smacked it against her with force she lost balance and fell back against the wall, shaking uncontrollably and blood leaking from her lips. He pulled her up by the shoulder and pressed her hard against the brickwork. She could feel his hands over her body. She could smell his rank breath in her face. She could see the vile anger in his eye.
Struggling was hopeless. He was too strong. Her dress ripped as he tugged at it and drops of blood from her face mixed with tears and fell like rain, staining the white with red sin. She sobbed as he forced himself against her once more and then at last he pulled away, smashed his wrist into her face once more and left her as a broken bleeding doll in the gutter.

+ 3 Dilithium. Good read.

Founder

[ILoveHarry]

-NYC Hotel; Biancca's room-

Twenty two minutes later, there is a wrapping on her door. "Room service," comes the masculine voice from the hallway.
Biancca smiles. "Come on in, you can just leave it in the room, I'll be right out."
"Will do Ma'am," replies the voice.
Biancca pulls the plug from her tub and watches for a brief moment as the watter swirls dowl the drain. She steps onto the soft bathmat, and grabs the robe from the back of the door. She slips it on and quickly wrings her hair witht the towel. She opens the door of her steam filled bathroom and crosses into her bedroom. The smell of her orcder wafts it's way into her nose, increasing rhe smile on her face. She pushes the cart a bit closer to the bed and switches on the television set. It's the news. A story about the Hitchcocks being in town to record their new album. She peers out the window almost expecting to see a crowd of fans gathering outside. Instead, she sees a lonely leaf blowing through the quiet parking lot. She sighs as she realizes how much she has in common with the leaf. B shakes her head as if to empy it of such thoughts.
She removes the lid from her food to reveal a juicy burger, fries, and a Bourbon. She solomly begins the mundane chore of consuming her meal. Feeling utterly alone.

[madlilnerd]

The receptionist, a blonde silicone harpy in a pink fluffy jumper stared at the bleeding, ragged girl in front of her, who looked as if she'd been run over by a train. She pursed her fushia lips together and forced a smile.
"Can I help you?" she asked, her pearly teeth shining in the bright hotel reception lights.
Shaking, the girl leant forward on the desk, trying not to cry. "Please", she managed to say. "Please, you have to tell me what room Biancca Bones is staying in." Babydoll looked the receptionist straight in the eye. "It's really, really, important."
"Uh... It's really not hotel policy."
Babydoll dug her nails deep into the leathertop counter. "It's really, really important..."
And somehow, the receptionist understood under her plastic facade.
"Ok." She scribbled it down on a small piece of paper, tore it off and handed it to Babydoll, who managed a weak smile in thanks.

The stairs felt a million miles long, but Babydoll knew she couldn't face the tight metal box of the elevator. She hauled herself up onto the next landing, and checked the piece of paper. It was right. A room service waiter gave her a startled glance as she trudged onwards, and rapped almost silently on the door.
"B?" she whispered. "B? It's Samantha..." It felt weird to use her real name. She banged harder, bruised fists aching with each hit, and began to shout. "B!! For *beep* sake, Biancca, let me in!"

[ILoveHarry]

The abrupt knocking startles Biancca. "Give me a second, would ya," she calls as she crosses tot he door. She opens the door and looks in horror as the girl stumbles in. "Jesus, Kid. What the hell have you done to yourself this time?"

[madlilnerd]

Babydoll stared wide eyed and panting at Biancca for a few minutes. She didn't know what to say. Tears began to cascade down her smudged cheeks and before she knew what was happening, she had fallen to her knees sobbing.
"I", gasp, "this guy", gasp, "high", gasp... she managed to put out, choking on her tears.

[ILoveHarry]

Biancca sighs. "Yes I can see that you are. Sweetie, I told you you were going to get yourself hurt." She pulls a blanket from the closet and wraps it around Samantha. Next she picks up the phone and dials. "I'm going to need a hot pot of coffee and another meal. Right away please." She returns the phone to the cradle and turns to her younger bandmate. "Take off those dirty clothes. I'll get you cleaned up." She crosses to the bathroom and starts another warm soapy bath.

[madlilnerd]

Samantha swaggered into the bathroom and sat down on the floor. She wanted to protest, to tell Biancca what had really happened, but her mind was in pieces and she couldn't fit anything together.
"I was... walking... and this... man... there was a man!" she blurted out. Something within her twinged and she forced her head into the toilet bowl to be sick. Wiping away bile from the corner of her mouth, she pointed at her bruises.
"I didn't do this!"

Her protestes were fragmented and hysterical. It was hopeless.

[ILoveHarry]

"I didn't think you did, Babydoll. I've told you before, you can't go wandering the street all alone when you're strung out like this. You're lucky to be walking away with only a few scrapes and bruises. You're going to get yourself killed if you carry on like this." She helps her out of the tattered clothing and casts it aside. "Get in the tub." She pulls the trash can to the edge of the tub in case Samantha would need it again.

[madlilnerd]

She got into the bath, still shaking and sank down into the comforting embrace of the water. The steam cleared her head and her mouth began to do what her mind was telling it again.
"I didn't mean to take it. But it was there. And I wanted it. I'm not me without it. Well, am I me. But I'm a boring nobody without that spark."
She splashed her face with the bath water and as she did so the reality of everything that had happened began to finally properly sink in. Silent tears slowly began to creep down her face into the bubbles.
"I didn't think it would happen. I was so strung out I didn't have a clue what he was doing to me."

[ILoveHarry]

Biancca sighs. "Well from the look of it, he just knocked you around a bit. You'll live."

[madlilnerd]

"I'm sorry I dumped this all on you. I've ruined your evening." She stared at her fingers in the bath. They were already starting to go wrinkly.
"You still going to head over to that party? I'll be fine once it's all worn off."

[ILoveHarry]

((UH... that wasn't in the post... but OK. Whatev. Anyway, I'm not posting again until we know Sam and Toby are back in it. This is sooo not the RPG I signed up for. Let's see if either of them ever rejoin in.))

[madlilnerd]

((I'll edit it out. And yeah, I get what you're on about, I'm sorry I'm making the RP sound like an extented episode of Trisha))

[Captain Dappet]

(Hey, guys, I'm sorry for my absence but I've been really stressed out lately. Let's try to get this back on track)

Joey had left the studio a while ago and was headed for Biancca's hotel. Or at least, what he thought was it. She was a pretty predictable girl, and last time the band went to NY, this was the hotel she stayed at.

He looked through his sunglasses, through the window at all the people walking by. He was glad he wasn't one of them. One of those guys in the suit with short, well-combed hair. He'd rather slit his throat than be one of those. He never was one of those, either. Every job he had back in England his superiors refused to let people see him because they thought he looked like a tramp. *beep*' wankers, if anything should've been kept out of sight, it should've been their bald heads and big *beep*' arses.

He kept staring out the window, waiting for the hotel to show up in his sight.