Toil and Trouble (Patricia & Cecil)

Cecil just shook his head. He wasn't even surprised at this point. "Because, surprisingly enough, there happen to be more of them than there are of me, and they are stronger than I am as well." Or rather, he would assume so. He didn't know how long they had had their personas, but he could be fairly certain it was longer than he had had his. "A short-sighted attempt at getting drunk is not worth losing access to this place altogether."

It felt good to amuse her...and less so when her tone shifted for trying to help her. Just what was...
...oh.
Really, she needed to stop drinking. Ditch the alcohol, get back home, not get stuck in a drunken haze from hell and start spilling her life story to a stranger. It felt...invasive. Like he was intruding on something he was never meant to know.
But he was in the middle of this now, and he didn't really have any influence to try and put an end to it.
...of all things, he wasn't expecting to be witness to her spilling her family issues. Apathetic parents, a sibling that stole the spotlight, at least by her perception. Not things he'd had to deal with, but things he now knew.
He couldn't remotely try to offer support on this. He'd already tried, and it'd been rebuffed. It was possible that she just inherently expected that nobody would care, and wouldn't consider the possibility when it was presented.
That...was just him speculating though.
At least her new focus was easier to deal with.
"I have yet to be told such a thing, but I do realise it is abnormal...I should hope so. The fact that nobody would speak in such a manner daily is very much the point of this manner of speech in the first place."

"Psssssh, sooo?" the drunk witch would mock. Like she'd just hit someone. She might get her ass kicked but it was better to be face down on the floor than someone's bottom bitch. Patricia never let anyone push her around, not jerks, not thugs, not even school or work and she pretty much always got into trouble for it but it was worth it in the end because like, what's right is pretty damn subjective. If something was worth throwing a punch for it was worth losing the fight if it happened, you gotta fight for your right to party, yo.
"Y're like Mr. Freedom Fighter're some shit, y'fight the goverm'nt and they're like more of'em an' stronger and you still do it so like... why?" Wicked would turn to her back on the bar with her hair and her coat spilling over the side. The ceiling churned as she stared up at it, it churned worse when she closed her eyes. Like the whole club was rocking on stormy seas.

"Pssssssh s'not short-sighted'n s'not about getting drunk s'bout letting assholes run y're life for you. Ya just kinda... walk up'n say HEY!" Wicked shouted, long past the point of volume control and inside voices, "GIMME'N FUKKEN DRINK and if they don't do it y'gotta hit'em're ya look like a biiiiiiiiiiiiiitch. Psssh. Nuh uh. Fuck you very much." Patricia flipped herself over slowly inch closer to the knight guy as she continued to speak.
"...'nd like ya might get y're ass kicked but s'okay, don't get mad get even'n find another way t'get it. 'Cause they will fuck you," she jabbed a finger towards his chest, not quite reaching. "They don't give a shit."

Her mood would lighten as the subject changed, as bipolar as she was Patricia's default attitude was teasing and she really didn't change from it for long unless something was wrong.
"Hmmhmmhmmhahahaaaa...! You sound... you sound like, like Shakespeare if he w's'a butler. Ahahehehaaaaa..!" He seriously did sound weird though, like, good to see he wasn't being weird 'cause he was being a costume nerd. That'd be... actually that might be fun, she'd have to try it out sometime. Wicked attempted to scoop up her glass beside her to keep drinking, but rather than sitting up tried to tilt it to her mouth. The result was that gravity worked and she splashed herself in the face with, sitting up sharply.
"Fuuuuuuuuck! S'in my fukken hair, psssssh, fuck off...

He was not having this conversation. He was not having this conversation.
...he was having this conversation.
"Because in that case, they are undertaking actions I find myself unable to ignore. Things to which I find death a more agreeable alternative." He tilts his head to one side. "Denying me alcohol access is not something I personally take such a dire affront to, by comparison."

Cecil winces at the shout, and just finds it uncomfortable as Wicked encroaches. He was seriously hoping she'd just head home soon at this point.
...the way she talked made him feel uncomfortable another way, too. There was definitely something wrong in her life. Something that needed to change, but...something he couldn't affect now, let alone comment on. "...I shall keep that in mind."

At the comment, he smirked and straightened up, holding the most dignified posture his body would let him. One arm ran horizontally across his chest, and the other was held up with his hand flat, as if holding up a tray or a platter. It'd do. "Shakespearean, I had considered myself not, but if thee would consider it so, then it doth be thy judgement I shalt follow."
...he couldn't help it when she splashed herself with the drink. "Wouldst thou desire any assistance?"

The heavily drunk witch ran her hands through her hair, trying to strain the alcohol out of it with little success. Fuck it was gonna soak and she'd have to wash it out and use the extra strong perfume in the morning so no one could smell the booze off of her. School was a pain in the ass like that, if she was at work they'd just talk shit but as long as she wasn't drunk on the clock no one would give a shit. Not that she wasn't ever but if it was just hungover she'd be stocking shelves and shit instead of getting expelled. She hung her head in defeat somewhat out of her acceptance that it wasn't all going to come out and somewhat because she was wasted but she'd swing her lopsided gaze to the knight for a moment.
"S'not about not getting booze b'cause that's good'n shit but like if you don't hey, whatevs. I don' giv'a fuck you do you dude," she slurred, but then gripped the counter to point as fiercely as her thin intoxicated body could come across as, "S'bout bein' somebody's bitch and if y'just let'em y're always gonna be their bitch 'n then y'll never get to do what you wan'." She let her body hang over the bar limply, tilting her head as if she was looking for something before settling on the glass she just tipped over. Patricia picked it up, found and empty, scoffed and nonchalantly swung it off her fingers to disappear behind the bar and shatter. Her shoulders shook with quiet maniacal laughter after she heard it break.
"Mmmhmmhmmhmmhaahaahaahaaaaaaa..."

Patty sighed loudly. She wanted to drink more than her body was gonna let her, she was starting to feel sick of it and mentally not there. She rubbed her face as her head swam. It actually felt kinda good. Like it was all numb and stuff so she just wanted to rub it. The knight caught her attention with more talking though and he was really turning up the Ye Olde English shit. Wicked couldn't contain herself.
"Heeheehee... heeheehahahaaaa...! Aaaahahahaha! Aha! Aha y're fuckin'- aaaaaaaaaahhahahahaaaaaa...! HeeheehaaahaaWHOAFF-!" Wicked squealed with laughter right up until she fell out of her seat, collapsing on the ground. She was pretty buzzed so like she was limber so it didn't hurt but it looked pretty nasty. She climbed up to a sitting position, holding her head. She didn't hit it or anything but holy shit was the room spinning. Then she started laughing again, dispelling any doubt.
"Aaaahn... Ahahahah whoops! Heeheehehee..." Wicked held out a loose hand as if asking him to help her up.

...perhaps it was best to drop this one. He got the feeling he wasn't quite following the same mental path as the witch, and getting on the same track was perhaps a bit harder than was really worth what the fuck was she doing.
He slowly turned back to Wicked, giving her a questioning look before shaking it off. Nothing he could do.
...probably didn't have to worry about all the glass that was starting to get everywhere, come to think. Being glad in a full suit of armour had its benefits. He could think of a couple on his feet that clanked when he walked.
How the fuck nobody seemed to hear that as he went about like this, he had no idea. He'd have thought it'd catch more attention...
He was not complaining in the least, though.

The satisfaction rushed through as the routine payed off, a warm smile on his face as Wicked burst out into hysterical laughter. It felt like he'd done something right.
Then she fell off.
That was more concerning.
He started to move round...and then stopped, remembering her prior reactions to such efforts. He grasped her hand as it was held out, helping her up onto her feet and one of the seats subsequently, but even as she laughed the smile didn't quite come back. His eyes flicked to the glass on the ground and back to Wicked, but he dared not say anything on the subject, and he kind of doubted she was too aware of anything if it was there anyway.
"Careful now." He tried to look her over for bits of glass without being too blatant about it, to mixed success.

"Whoooooooooop! Ahahahahaaaa...!" Patty giggled drunkenly as the knight lifted her up to her feet. She had to keep holding onto him to stay upright especially after the sudden upswing but it was kinda nice to have something grounded to hold onto instead of falling around everywhere like she was accustomed to. Like, she'd gotten used to drunk walking but it always sucked to eat pavement stepping over a curb that popped outta nowhere. So she clung to his arm, swaying slightly, kind of from her buzz but also sorta on purpose as she shifted on her heels.

She didn't have an glass on her, at least none he could find. Most of it was on the other side of the bar where she made her mess in the first place but something else was apparent. Wicked caught him looking her up and down, he was too close and quiet not for her to notice what he was doing. He was totally checking her out. Like, that was cool. So the armor was sorta rugged and mysterious and he was pretty funny... fuck it, she'd had worse. Besides, like the costumes made it some sort of Halloween after-party situation and that was pretty hot.
"Mmmhmmm, see anything ya like...?" she slurred as playfully as she could. She'd try to guide the hand she was holding onto to her waist and place her own body pretty close to his. She lolled her head at him and gave him a smoky gaze from beneath the shadow of her wide-brimmed hat, whispering to him strong enough to be heard through the blaring music.
"Y'know... I could show y'more if you wan'." Like, she'd be joking if he wasn't hilarious but it'd be a pretty good night cap to go to the club alone and leave with the only guy there. There wasn't a whole lot else to do in this place if she was getting too sick to drink anyway. Wicked took her other arm and slowly wrapped it around the knight's shoulders so she could hang off him.

He...had not expected this situation. In his shock, he gave no resistance to Wicked's manhandling, and as such, he was fully in the thick of it before he even knew what was happening.
In that moment, he felt like he should have felt more than the intense awkwardness he was faced with. She was drunk off her ass, and that was the least of what was wrong with the situation at hand, and yet he felt like he was supposed to appreciate her even entertaining...whatever was going through her head more than he currently did.
He understood that many people would leap at this situation, but personally...the appeal just wasn't there, as it wasn't in every other case that preceded her. None were ever quite so involved as this, but he still remained unswayed.

Still. He needed to handle this carefully.
Gently, he took his hand away from where it had been placed, and used it to remove one arm. "Right now, I am content with things as they are. And the both of us have secrets we'd rather keep." Wicked is carefully set down on one of the seats as he extricates himself from her grasp, after which he moves to create a more...comfortable, distance. Only enough to dissuade a repeat attempt. "Not this time, I'm afraid."
And I doubt there'll be a next time either.

He wasn't eager to draw this out further. Time had passed, far too much alcohol had been consumed, and things were getting into territory that he'd rather avoid for the foreseeable future. It was about time to call a stop to this.
"Perhaps it is time to retire for the night. The next day will be a long one, and I shall need my strength for then." He nods to her, and he's only two steps through his exit before he comes to a halt. His gaze turns back to Wicked, and he can't help but hesitate at simply leaving while she's in that state. Pivoting in place, he turns about once more to face her. "Do you plan to remain here longer? Or...would you desire some assistance along your path, perhaps? I obviously cannot see you to your home if you wish to retain the secrecy of your identity-"
Not that it actually was a secret from him, but now was hardly the time for such a revelation.
"-but I would be remiss not to offer at least some aid along your way."

He didn't go for it. Well, whatever, fuck it, she tried. His loss. Like, the costume gave both of them an out, neither of them really had anything to lose but she could see what he was doing. She let him peel her off himself and gave him the space he wanted for at least a few seconds, swaying on her feet. He was trying to do the suave knightly thing or something, like a superhero or whatever. Like, of course he'd turn her down.
"Ahahahaaa... okay. I see noooooooow..." She leaned forward to close the distance he created and placed a finger on his chest.
"Y're doin' the chiv'le... chivie... y're doin' the knight shit aren'tcha? Aha ha haaaaa... Stupid boy..." So like, that was cool and stuff. Maybe just like a tiny bit attractive but still, he could've had her if he wanted. She would've done stuff. Probably not all the way but like, it was there. If he wanted to toss that over his shoulder that was his deal. But she'd play along, it might be fun for a bit.

She meandered drunkenly in a circle for just a bit trying to remember what she was doing when he was all the way across the room! Was he trying to like, just leave her there? What a dick. But he stopped and asked if she was gonna stay. Wicked looked around for a little bit. Between sticking around when literally no one else was coming and hanging out with people she'd choose people nine times outta ten. Like, she wasn't just gonna get drunk by herself, that was lame. She wasn't really drinking that much until he showed up anyway, she probably would've stopped after what she had if he didn't show up.
"Naaaaaaaaaaah. This place's fackin' borin'. I dun' wanna be here, s'nothin' to doooo," she whined. Wicked rubbed a hand across her face. It was numb like normal after a few Irish Car Bombs. She could... probably get herself home alone, she hadn't missed- well actually yeah sometimes she'd be passed out on someone's lawn but she didn't wanna do that right now.

She stumbled over to him by the door, nearly falling once as she lurched across the nightclub but made it far enough to grab him by the arm to hold herself up.
"Heeeeeeeeey. Hey hey hey. Heeheeheehahaaaaaaa... I'm drunk. Like, you don' even knoooow, dude. Can you walk me hoooooooome?" She laughed at first and then begged in a pitiful voice. So like, she probably wasn't gonna ask anything else but it wasn't gonna be any fun marching back to her dorm room and tripping over everything. Especially with no one to talk to. He was fun to mess with, so she wanted to keep messing with him.

"...sure. Whatever you say."
He wished the idea that maybe, just maybe, the idea he wasn't interested wasn't such a ridiculous and offensive one to people in these situations. No matter how true it was, you couldn't say it, ohhhh no. That meant somebody had a problem, or that there was something wrong.
...he would fully admit he'd never been subjected to it, but that didn't mean he couldn't notice the same around him.

As she started to fall, Revenant moved into make sure it didn't actually happen, and soon he found himself with the witch on his arm.
To tell the truth, it wasn't something he was amazingly comfortable with, but he had offered to help her back...and frankly, she needed the support. It didn't really matter whether or not he particularly liked it - he signed up for this, and her needs right now mattered more than his sensibilities.
"I already offered my assistance. I would hardly rescind that because you opted to take it." Did she not care whether he knew where she lived though? The whole point of looking like this was being anonymous. It kind of damaged that if he knew where she lived.
...not that it mattered too much...he already knew who she was. But she wasn't aware of that. The point still stood where she was concerned.
Taking care to make sure he was properly supporting Wicked, he exited with the Witch and started walking away from the Playhouse. "By all means...direct us on our path."