i guess this lives here instead

[trypanophobic]

Who: Killua, Blue, Gon
Where: Babyhouse (the apartment of said 3 people)
When: After Helisium
Format: [brackets]
Open/Closed closed
Summary: Killua comes home drunk as fuck from his attempt to decompress at the festival—but there's a reason why Killua isn't much for letting loose and living in the moment...

[Killua comes home pretty late. it's not really on purpose—a lot happened, and Killua found he was having so much fun, he wanted to maintain the way he was feeling... you know, from snatching drinks off trays. or straight up off bar counters, when he got to feeling a little too ballsy. eventually, he of course was caught, but not quite met with consequence. too slippery. and he'd hung out with some other folks—girls he already knew, and now felt a little closer to. and it was fun! it was fucking fun, and simple, and fine.

and now he's back here. the god forsaken den of tension. it's like all of Killua's patience for this situation has been drowned as much as his sobriety. but of course, he isn't totally bent out of shape—it seems like his evening has more or less had the desired effect on his mood, displayed by his clumsy entrance, followed by a boisterous laugh as he hangs off the door handle. he's not going to let the tension get to him—he won't bend any longer! enough is enough. he's decided this.]

Oops! Haha! Wow.

[his laughter clears up with a sigh as Killua closes the door, a little loudly. oops. it's still amusing to him how compromised his motor skills are; he'd thought he'd adjust by now. Killua's always poisoned himself on purpose, but the effects weren't usually so novel.]

Watch it.

[indeed, this is said to the door as Killua regains a straight posture—but it's sort of abnormally so, like he's overcompensating.]

Comments

[blueser]

[It's a little late, but Blue is in the kitchen finishing some food prep, and jumps when he hears the door snap shut. Since he wasn't home, that must be...]

[Blue sticks his head out around the corner of the kitchen doorway to gawk st the livingroom/entryway as Killua stumbles in, arguing with the door, and makes a face. Oof! Right away he can smell the alcohol, and sort of half-covers his nose with shock and some light pearl-clutching.]

...What the heck were you doing at that party!? [He chides with a stage-whispered hiss, and indeed, he indulges himself in a light bit of affirmation. He told Killua that party would be nothing but petty adult troubles!] You stink like a weird old man...