Symbol Prompt for Emily

[Jeremy Colborne]

[ ✪ ] our muses are stuck in locked room together.

Emily Davenport

[Emily Davenport]

Source tagged Jeremy Colborne words 338 notes And so he finds himself trapped in a room with this dork.

The party was in full swing, and things had started as they usually did. She had a few drinks until her mind grew foggy from the effects of the alcohol and then would eventually migrate onto the dance floor. It was only when inebriated that Emily found the courage to take to the dance in the presence of others. Unfortunately, the reason for this was the likelihood of her inflicting injury upon herself or others who were unfortunate enough to stray into the path of her flailing limbs. When she was sober, she could recognise that she would never go pro in her dancing career. Tipsy-Emily lacked the ability to make such judgements. It wasn’t until she found herself out of breath and dizzy that she stopped her shenanigans and went in search of her friends. They seemed to have wandered off, leaving her alone. Abandoned. Oh, the hurt, the betrayal.  And so the quest to track them down and reunite herself with her companions was to begin. Trailing a hand along the wall as she wandered out into the hall and began hollering their names, as if that might convince them to come and find her sooner.  It was their own fault if she caused them embarrassment. They had abandoned her in a room full of strangers.  Perhaps they had gone to the bathroom. The moment the thought entered her mind, she tried the next available door and stumbled into the room. She had no reason to assume that it was a bathroom, but apparently her brain had thrown out all logical thought. She was now standing in a room that looked to be some kind of lounge area- but it was certainly not a bathroom. She initially judged the room to be empty, until she noticed a man at the opposite end of the room, presumably hiding from the noise of the ongoing party. “This isn’t the bathroom,” she announced, allowing the door to shut behind her. “Have you seen my friends? They have misplaced me”

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[Jeremy Colborne]

---These  sorts of parties were either a hit or miss for Jeremy. There were times where he was perfectly fine with the crowd and was able to handle it. Other times . . . it triggered his anxiety. He could feel the latter coming on but had promised his friend he would stay. So instead of leaving, he decided to just . . . help his mood along a little. Though he needed something stronger. Much stronger. He miraculously found an empty room which he immediately seized. Before going in his friend had warned him to keep the door open; the lock was stuck on it. Jeremy wasn't sure if he would remember the instruction . . . but the thought of being locked in a room away from everyone else wasn't terribly unappealing. It was just too . . . peopley out there!

---Slouched on the couch, he let the drugs do their work, hearing someone break the peaceful silence. He looked towards the girl and . . . the closed door. Was she lost? Or she had lost her friends? Or they lost her. He looked around the room when she stated it wasn't the bathroom. "And don't make it one," he joked . . . but, not without truth. He didn't want to see her pop a squat in here . . . or throw up. The fact that they were stuck in this room now would make the smell unbearable. "You know, if I wasn't so fucking high right now, I might be freaking out that we're now locked in this room together." He had no idea who this girl was -- though she was very clearly drunk -- but something told him that they were going to get to know each other; stripped of any choice considering the circumstances. "If you couldn't find your friends before . . . you sure won't find them now."

TAG:
Emily Davenport

NOTES:: omgg why is he such an idiot?! my apologies!! 

[Emily Davenport]

Source tagged Jeremy Colborne words 513 notes Is she making sense to Jeremy? Because this child might be crazy.

The man had jokes, or she hoped he was joking and didn’t believe she would actually try to use the room as a bathroom. But then, they didn’t really know each other and there were some pretty weird people around- most of which frequented parties such as this one. Something clicked in the back of her mind that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to be talking to a stranger in an otherwise empty room. Turning to leave, she tried the door handle and grimaced when the door didn’t open immediately. She knew he was talking to her, but the words didn’t seem to sink in until she’d turned to leave and the door didn’t immediately swing open. “Oh...” she tried the handle a second and then third time with similar results.  Maybe it was the alcohol in her system, but although she’d heard the man talking about the locked door, she didn’t immediately make the connection that she had been the one to shut the door and trap them there. Turning back to face the stranger that had probably not expected having his own private party crashed like this, she said the first thing that came to her mind. “The door is locked? Why did you lock it?” never mind how she had somehow walked through the door just moments ago- or that could not have possibly moved to lock it. “Wait, high?” the sentence seemed to confuse her, and she stumbled further into the room before halting. “You’re doing drugs in here?!” she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh this is bad, this is very, very bad,” she muttered to herself, not quite realizing that she was speaking out loud the entire time- or that he could hear every panicked word. She had just come to this party because her friends had suggested it, and now she’d found herself trapped in a locked room with a drug dealer or crackhead or something- She didn’t know the terms, she didn’t do drugs!  This was exactly the type of situation they warned you to avoid in school. But damn it, she hadn’t really paid attention in school. Why hadn’t she paid attention in school? “I should warn you, I know karate... Or, I took one class back when I was five but I’ll mess you up dude, I’m not kidding!” the threat may have been more effective if she didn’t sway on her feet as she said it, or if the room wasn’t spinning- was the room spinning or was she spinning? Real questions. Backing up into the door, she vocalized her dissatisfaction with a low moan that surely gave the impression that she was crazy... Or going to be sick, which was something the man had specifically told her not to do. “My friends left me dancing alone. Who leaves someone to dance alone? Dancing is a group activity” and now they had doomed her to die at the hands of this drug lord mafia boss- or that’s what she’d decided to label him as. “Do you dance mister drug lord?”

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