I KNOW IT SHOWS ---

It don’t do me any good,
It’s just a waste of time…

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ERIN “IRELAND” PATRICK[/size][/b]
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2012

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Erin’s hand hovered near the door. Should she knock? Did she need to knock? Could she just walk in? Did she care? Erin’s relationship with him was complicated. It was a pain in the ass to try to take apart her internal feelings. She didn’t stay away because for some demented reason she couldn’t. She felt affection, concern, care and even jealously where he was concerned. But these feelings were balanced by hatred, annoyance, distrust and irritation. Arthur Kirkland was one of the most confusing parts of Erin’s life. Her feelings about him had gone all over the spectrum and at the moment, she sort of desired his attention. Why else would she be here?

Erin dropped her hand and let her eyes skim over her orange and green suitcase. It was accompanied by her green shoulder bag. She had packed minimal clothing and instead loaded the suitcase with alcohol. St. Patrick’s Day was tomorrow and she had to be prepared. Erin could have gone to any party she pleased in Ireland. She’d have been the heart of the party no matter which one she attended. However, she had chosen to come to England. What was wrong with her!?!

Erin sucked in a breath and decided to go with what she would usually do to any friend. She grasped the handle of her luggage and opened the door, barging into the space and out of the night air. ”Hey!! Anyone Home!?!!”

[/b] she yelled through the building, her voice echoing back at her. She didn’t really wait for a response. She pushed her luggage against a wall, slipped off her shoes and put her coat on the rack. Erin was making herself at home.

She dropped her bag with a loud thump on the ground and glanced around, waiting patiently for who she knew was around. It was nearly eleven at night and there was no way he wasn’t here. Well, he could be just about anywhere in actuality, but Erin was insistent that he was here so he must be!! She glanced from side to side as she waited, her weight shifting to her left hip and her arms crossed defiantly. Okay, so she was here by her own will, and she wanted to see Arthur, but that wasn’t about to stop a bit of attitude from the slight girl. She was ready for anything and anything could come from having to deal with Arthur again. Why the hell had she chosen to come here? She found herself asking that question over and over, her mind stuck in a loop.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

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Tag --- Arthur/Rye
Words --- 430
Lyrics --- "Things I`ll Never Say" By Avril Lavigne
Outfit --- A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Arthur hadn’t been home much lately, which was a little surprising. He had a tendency to avoid travel if he could help it, but duty took priority. He had arrived home earlier that evening only to leave his luggage on his staircase landing—still filled, yet to be unpacked. The forgotten crinkled labels for the flight were still intact over the handles. It was refreshing to be home after a long absence, to smell the familiar musk and to hear the familiar, steady tick of the clock in his study. His fingers loosened the necktie at his throat before undoing the first few, constricting buttons of the white oxford beneath, leaving it open. “God…” he sighed as the cool air hit the warm base of his neck and sweaty skin near his collarbone. The blazer was discarded over a chair. He could still feel the tension in his body, the stiff formality still lingering. Rolling up the wrinkled sleeves to his elbows, his eyes scanned the room while wild fingers fumbled at a particular drawer for that stash of cigarettes. Usually he didn’t smoke indoors, but at this point (as drained as he felt) he didn’t really give a damn. After another rummaging search for the lighter, silence grew as he took long, devoted drags. He breathed in the hazy smoke, feeling that small bit of pleasure race through his veins. Nearly forty minutes later, there were two empty bottles at the table. A sense of calm finally came over him after discarding the ashy stub. The green of his irises were now a little glazed, but not clouded. Tension drained from his shoulders and his heart was beating a slow, delicious rhythm. Something in the back of his head told him that there was something wrong with not being able to unwind without resorting to liquor. He quickly ignored it, massaging his temples. He reached for a third bottle. Just as he opened it, he heard the front door open. Alarm wracked his brain and all those pleasant feelings dissipated. He wasn’t expecting anyone, especially at this hour. How dare— and then he heard her shouting. Of course. He wasn’t all that shocked that she had just barged into his space. It had become a customary greeting of sorts between them… Why? Why now? His thoughts were a mess. A quiet, irritated groan escaped his throat as he started making his way towards the front door. He stopped when he saw her. Noticing the luggage against the wall, confusion mingled with his usual surge of irritation whenever she dropped in on him like this. Likewise, he didn’t know what to even feel around Erin most of the time, so the chaos of emotion was usually masked by irritability. ”Why are you here?” The harsher snap to his words was somewhat absent, though lingered beneath. To be honest, his confusion overcame the annoyance. Wasn’t tomorrow a certain special day of hers? And yet here she was… passing through his doorstep of all places instead of getting thoroughly plastered for the big event. He barely even noticed that she had already slipped off her shoes and hung her coat. That was routine. And apparently they were doing whatever this was all over again, taking what they craved from each other and never giving back—like a monotonous, broken record. TAGGING: Erin/Ireland. NOTES: And here we go. TIME: Present. TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION.

It don’t do me any good,
It’s just a waste of time…

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ERIN “IRELAND” PATRICK[/size][/b]
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2012

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Erin immediately took in Arthur’s appearance. It was only a matter of seconds but it felt a bit longer. She skimmed him over head to toe and was far from surprised that nothing had really changed. Nations really didn’t change that much after all. It took dramatic political events for there to be a visual difference, unless of course they were a new nation and freshly growing. Arthur was ancient compared to most of the other nations and as such had no growing left to do. Hell, Erin often joked with Alfred about Arthur’s old age.

Erin listened to the words spilling from his lips and let her hips shift to the side and crossed her arms with the same attitude that she always had. Those who knew Erin were far from surprised by this aspect of her. People who had just met her were often surprised at the amount of attitude and rudeness that could come out of her slight frame. She had a wicked temper, blunt opinions and no damn to be given...most of the time.

Erin had to admit in ways she was hurt by the harsh tone, but a hurt Erin was simply an angry Erin. Had she been more observant, perhaps she’d have noticed that it wasn’t actually harsh by any means and all that she got was an undertone. ”I don’t have to justify myself to the likes of you...even if it’s your stuffy hole I am barging in on!”

[/b] she snapped back with more than a little sass. Her retort was far harsher than his question had been.

She dropped her arms to her side, her dark tone forgotten as quickly as it boiled to the surface. ”Now, you better have stocked the liquor cabinet. And even if you didn’t, I brought enough to somewhat share... If I decide you deserve it.”[/b] It almost sounded like she hadn’t given him the sass only a moment earlier. She didn’t wait for a response and instead tilted her suitcase to its wheels and dragged it past him, making her way for the very room he had just vacated to head toward the door.

Once Erin’s back was to him she smiled with delight. Yes, the broken record was still playing over and over, but she sort of liked the monotony. She knew what to expect from Arthur. She knew what she would get and she knew she would hate him and adore him for it. She hated the damn bastard but she just loved to hate him. She wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t desired his company. He was like a drug. He was bad for her and yet she wanted to be around him just the same.

Arthur brought out some of her worst and some of her better qualities. It was such a contradiction that it was probably better that Erin never really focused too much on the way the two collided in a confusing and nonsensical way. She had no explanation for how her relationship with Arthur could work, but it did. Erin hadn’t had a brother before, and that was honestly the best descriptor in current years. Arthur was the annoying, stuck up, stuffy, irritating bastard who also somehow dealt with pretty much the same qualities in her (though Erin would never admit to having those qualities).

Erin dropped the suit case to the floor and opened it to reveal bottles of whisky and a small selection of other hard liquors. It was all padded in snugly with her clothes, which were in surprisingly small numbers compared to the alcohol. ”Pick your poison...”[/b] she said more to herself than him as she pulled out a bottle of Irish Whisky.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

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Tag --- Arthur/Rye
Words --- 618
Lyrics --- "Things I`ll Never Say" By Avril Lavigne
Outfit --- A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Arthur noticed Erin’s body language—expectant and somewhat brash as always. No surprises there. Everything about her appearance was the same, even the arrogance of her posture. Despite being around the same age as Arthur and Ewan, Erin acted the least like her age in Arthur’s opinion—similar to a middle aged woman in the body of a petulant teenager. But again, that was his blunt, usually borderline offensive opinion. The island nations were all prideful, so he couldn’t exactly be too affronted by that quality of hers, because hell, they all were cut from the same cloth. For the most part, though, he was far from put-off at her usual rudeness. It was too familiar. He only managed a mildly uninterested look at her outburst to his simple question. He did it purposefully as he knew which of his reactions would only rile her even further. No, he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted. Not yet, at least. That was part of the little game between them. Sometimes they denied each other. Astounding surprise there. Really, it was. Annoyance crept into his gaze at her response. He waited quietly for only a bit, and as expected, the anger seemed to pass from her in record time. ”Don’t I always?” he muttered more to himself when he heard her statement about his liquor cabinet while securing the door as she left the foyer. The island nations were always well-stocked, so it was tedious question to ask, but Arthur knew what it meant. He knew what she wanted. Likewise, he knew what to expect from these visits. Or, rather—he mostly expected the unexpected and whatever happened between them never did faze him anymore. There was very little that hadn’t happened between them. Sometimes knowing a person too well was unfavourable. Intimately knowing each other’s flaws with startling clarity—things to both hate and secretly understand. He never turned her away. Actually, he rarely turned away company, even if they annoyed him, because he barely had it to begin with. Every visit was a distraction. And Erin was an interesting one for him, and even an unintentional outlet at the worst of times. But he didn’t want to think of that. Tonight wasn’t going to be about thinking. He’d made that decision the moment he had reached for the bottle. He had a ‘fuck it all’ attitude for moments like these. He didn’t care what he did and he didn’t care what happened as a result. By the time he reached whichever room Erin had decided to stroll into next, she had already opened her suit case, revealing enough hard liquor to sustain anyone that was looking to get well plastered. A soft, amused noise escaped Arthur when he saw it. Words tended to create more conflict between them. Liquor always knew what to say, just as bodies always knew what to do. He reached for his own freshly opened bottle, his eyes lazily surveying Erin. A corner of his mouth quirked. It almost looked mischievous—a look that he had usually worn from a different time. He walked passed her before seating himself on one of the sofas, those curious, dark eyes never leaving her. The liquor was there, the atmosphere was there, and now apparently the company was there. He waited for a moment. Arthur already had a bit of the liquid fire in his veins, so his drinking was currently languid at best. Certainly not in any hurry. ”So,” he said when she pulled out her own bottle. ”Here you are in my ‘stuffy hole’—” he tried not to snort at her choice of words, but the amused gleam never left his stare. Here his voice grew a little quieter, a little lower. ”—and you’ve managed to get me all to yourself. Now what are you going to do?” His question was slightly mocking with a hint of something light. His gaze always seemed to hold the usual contempt with an edge of cruelty that held them together like paste, but there was also a twisted sort of tenderness, warmth, and even a bit of hunger for something that could never be attained. What it was—Arthur really didn’t care to know. The thought made his mouth find the end of the bottle once more. TAGGING: Erin/Ireland. NOTES: Pfff. TIME: Present. TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION.

It don’t do me any good,
It’s just a waste of time…

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ERIN “IRELAND” PATRICK[/size][/b]
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2012

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Erin’s thoughts on the three island nations were similar but also the opposite of Arthur’s. Erin was always struck with a feeling of stuffy old age when she considered Arthur. That wasn’t to say he was old, well...he was, but not visually or even completely in personality. It was simply that his level of responsibility and even some of his mannerisms were quite out dated in Erin’s mind. To her, she was the only one staying modern.

Even now, as he failed to rise to her temper she was struck with the thought that he had way too much personal control. She wasn’t as foolish as to think Arthur couldn’t have fun, she knew better than that, but sometimes she wondered if he ever truly let go of that careful consideration for his own actions. Erin was by nature impulsive, she could almost claim Arthur to be the opposite. Erin was also aware that everyone had their buttons that resulted in immediate action or reaction. Arthurs buttons were just harder to press than most other people, most likely because he knew Erin so well as to be able to avoid spontaneous reaction.

Erin smirked and answered him, despite his muttered tone. ”Oh I count on it...”

[/b] She admitted, having asked more out of habit than anything else. Not everyone kept stocked up but Erin knew Arthur well enough by now. Erin wanted a drink and she had made her intentions quite clear at least.

Erin glanced around the familiar setting; it was one she remembered well. She could see the changes that time had done to the place, much like her own home. Erin had a habit of revisiting old residences she had lived in before. She didn’t move often, but did it enough to keep under the radar. She always returned to the same sets of houses though, and as such she had watched them age. As far as she was concerned she had several homes outside of Ireland as well...Arthur’s was one of them.

She gave him a glance over, taking in once again the appearance that hadn’t changed much. Not many nations had the political experiences that marked drastic physical change anymore. The world today was more regulated than it had been in the past. Of course, Arthur was once one of the most powerful forces the world had seen...now he was much smaller by comparison and still Erin saw that powerful empire. She tried to put that feeling of awe in check. She had to stop idolizing him like a little sister does to a very accomplished older brother and then turning around and despising him for it. Was that circle of feelings ever going to end?

One thing Erin could count on was that he hadn’t made her leave when she visited unexpectedly. Not yet at least. She was aware that she wasn’t exactly easy to deal with, the one negative feature of her personality she could admit to, yet he always made time and room for her. Erin’s thoughts put a smile on her face as she returned to the world of the conscious, her thought trail at an end.

Erin perked her head, recognizing the familiar sound as she turned to look at Arthur. ”I couldn’t remember if I left any of my lovely Irish Whisky here last time...”[/b] she said, almost defensively. Erin always brought alcohol, that was a given. Whether it was larger or smaller quantities changed from place to place.

She kept her eyes on him, not saying much for the moment. She noted the small change in expression and pondered over it for a moment, deciding that working out his thoughts would take too much effort. She watched him in her peripherals as he moved to the sofa, keeping her expression neutral as she and took a nice swig of Whisky. The warmth that followed was blissful as always.

She turned to look at him only once he spoke again. ”Yes, the stuffy hole…I figured I would pack you full of alcohol, sing, dance, be merry and let whatever happens, happen…and laugh at the hangover in the morning...therefore negating the stuffiness of your abode…”[/b] Erin offered, slipping into as much of an English accent as she could manage for the last part about his ‘abode’.

Erin was feeling a particular bit of delight at the attention, despite the lack of competition. They hadn’t snapped on each other yet either (well she had sort of, but that was forgotten by now). He was being pleasant, no one else was around and he was going to celebrate St. Patrick’s day with her damn it!!!

Erin plopped onto the sofa next to him, sitting right next to him instead of leaving space where there was plenty to be had. She turned to look at him and held up her bottle. ”Cheers…”[/b] she offered, trying to cloak her delight at having his company all to herself and hoping it didn’t go south too quickly…[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

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Tag --- Arthur/Rye
Words --- 831
Lyrics --- "Things I`ll Never Say" By Avril Lavigne
Outfit --- A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.
Notes --- Your posts are quite eloquent..Mine feel like hack jobs by comparison! I adore your writing...Just needed to let you know

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Arthur is indeed an individual that was more inclined to give his reactions a bit more thought than most others. A part of that could be attributed to age. It’s difficult not to learn control after being around for so long. The other part; however, was because he did have his own personal code of conduct during his empire days. Yes, he still liked to occasionally indulge in impulsivities like he would do when he was younger, but he also had to be exceedingly careful with where his actions landed him. The world once scrutinised him—watched his every move. Now, of course, he was freer to do what he pleased without the constant analysis, but as they say… old habits die hard. Alcohol helped, though. He almost felt like he didn’t know how to unwind anymore without resorting to it. And… that explains why he’s always well stocked with the stuff. Not to mention the wide assortment to get him well plastered. Nearly every free night. No problem there… ”Yes, of course,” he said back, unenthusiastic sarcasm colouring his words. He barely noticed Erin glancing about the place with some familiarity. A small smile etched at the corners of his mouth, but it quickly disappeared. Out of all his homes, this was one that he had ownership over the longest. God—even he had lost track of the years... But it held the most memories—some that he’d much rather forget—but like a nostalgic idiot (his words); he secretly couldn’t bear to let it go. Arthur caught her stare and he gave her a swift once-over in return. Of the others in their little group, Erin seemed the most adaptable to change. Not by a terribly large amount, but Arthur could see the subtle differences. Still… beneath that, she was the same Erin that he knew centuries past. He remembered their first meeting and had a hard time forgetting the difficulties as they slowly progressed into their trying younger years. Being the youngest of the British Isles, they were so wild, so impulsive, and unrestricted. Arthur sometimes felt helplessly stuck in his recollections—not only of his siblings, but of people that were long dead, their bones now dust in the ground, leaders, legendary figures, and even past flames. Centuries upon centuries worth of memoirs, of ventures that he had gone on… of wars that he had fought… and of men and women that he had loved. Something in Erin’s stare caught him a little off guard. His face grew warm. Before he could feel it getting worse, he broke from her scrutiny and turned to grab a few more bottles of liquor, setting them on the table. Thoughts flitted about. He wondered how long she was going to stay this time… how long would it be before they got into their first argument for the evening… and how long it was going to take them to get sloshed. Usually, the quicker it was, the more desperate they were for release from the tedium of their nightly patterns. Desperate for... something. The corner of Arthur’s mouth rose marginally when she spoke about the possibility of her leaving behind her whiskey. ”Even if you did, it wouldn’t have lasted.” They were all notorious drinkers, so it wasn’t exactly a novelty that they went through it like a parched man would through water. Apparently these nations had iron livers. ”Yes, brilliant.” He stated flatly after hearing her plan for negating the ‘stuffiness’ of his ‘abode’, but it was with a bit of a smirk behind the slightly cynical tone. Yes, he was actually choosing to be a bit more pleasant than usual this time around. He hadn’t had company in a while and the stress of… well, being him and working as if Hell were about to break loose, had left him feeling a little more drained than what was typical for him. When Erin sat next to him, his arm brushed against hers purposefully. The motion was a bit playful, like when somebody gently nudged another; it was a little habit that he had formed when they were younger during those rare moments when he actually wanted her company (God forbid), but didn’t exactly know how to put it into words. Again, words usually created more problems between the island nations, so one could imagine that they naturally weren’t very good at expressing how they truly felt to the others. Nevertheless, he kept his face straight and didn’t look at her as he picked his half-emptied lager from the table. By the end of the night, he knew that they would see more empty bottles than the actual surface of the table. ”Cheers…” he reiterated. He looked at her briefly, actually looked at her this time, and the smallest of smiles surfaced. There was a semblance of warmth in it, but it disappeared the moment he took to the bottle. The liquor burned exquisitely—its artificial warmth slowly radiating to the rest of him. TAGGING: Erin/Ireland. NOTES: Aww, thank you. ^^ I don't think yours are terrible at all! I love reading them. C: TIME: Present. TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION.

It don’t do me any good,
It’s just a waste of time…

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ERIN “IRELAND” PATRICK[/size][/b]
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2012

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Age was certainly something that people often failed to see in Erin. She had made many mistakes in her long life and yet she just kept making them. She didn’t put much of a cap on her opinions, and her diplomacy could often use some work. That wasn’t to say she wasn’t capable of contemplated thought, but rather she often would act or speak before thinking things through. Personality could certainly make even the oldest nations appear ignorant or hot headed. Erin was far from being an ancient nation, but she certainly was far from young either. Where Arthur was calculating, Erin was impulsive. Where Arthur was more controlled, Erin was quite free in her actions. There were more than a few ways they could be considered opposites.

Erin smirked triumphantly at his sarcasm. It would be a bad day when she arrived at a frequented place that was lacking in liquor. Erin would take a lack of liquor in any friend’s cabinet as a clear message of ‘get out!’. Of course, she wouldn’t listen to that message but rather restock the cabinet. An empty liquor cabinet was a sad sight indeed...And Erin would be damned if she left when someone else wanted her to.

Erin tried to recall what space Arthur had occupied the first time she had visited England. Many of those visits had blurred together in the earlier days. She had spent a lot of time in England, almost as much so as Dublin. Her reasons for the visits varied at the time, but having him in Dublin always made for an interesting time. She hadn’t been so inclined to alcohol then, and would rather spend her time pestering him in any way possible just to inconvenience him. She was after all quite young then.

Recollections had gotten hazy for Erin. She spent so much time in the now that a lot of history had blurred. Famines all were a recalled collective experience, visits to friends and family a blur of memories that were often difficult to place in the timeline. The bigger events were well remembered however, and perhaps that was why the earlier years were a bit more distinct. She had been forming and everything had seemed so important back then.

Erin took in the room from the sofa, her eyes lingering over her own things and then returning to linger over Arthur. It was hard to believe he was the same person she had pestered out of childish boredom. He hadn’t been that old himself at the time...

Erin turned away herself when Arthur gathered a few more bottles of alcohol. Erin took that as a clear invitation and took one of them, popping it open, despite having her current bottle. She took a swig of the new bottle, which had the nice long clean burn of vodka. She dropped the bottle of whisky on a side table for the moment as she nursed the new bottle. The quiet between them wasn’t as uncomfortable as one would think. Words were often just the first step toward a blow up between island nations...

Erin’s amused grin bloomed across her face at his admission that her whisky, had she left any, would be long gone by now. ”People often tell me that aged alcohol tastes better, especially wine. I don’t think I’ll ever find out...” she laughed. She had been told that several of her favourites were particularly good aged. The statement was of course more a comment on how quickly she went through the stuff, but she had paid for her share of aged whisky and wine.

Erin shook her head at the flat tone. ”You need more alcohol in you. We should play a drinking game. Pick a good board game you have, or some cards...Perhaps we could play whisky pong!? Got any ping pong balls?”

[/b] she asked. Truth be told, Erin needed more alcohol in her. Tonight was a special night...but before she got too tanked, she needed to get Arthur even more loose (despite his being surprisingly open to fun already) so she could deck him out in orange and green. It was only right for him to dress the part if she was celebrating with him in particular.

Erin tried not to smile when she felt the familiar brush from having sat down as she slid a little closer unconsciously. She was slightly giddy just for the sake of having his attention all to herself. She wanted everyone’s attention all to herself, but her need for Arthur’s attention was different. Arthur, Ewan and even Bran all were people she wanted undivided attention from. She wanted their approval as well...what for? Well...anything! She looked up to her fellow islands...but of course, she also wanted them to bug off and leave her be. No one ever said Erin made sense.

Erin noted the expression changed and smiled into her bottle before letting more liquid warmth ease into her body. She liked when Arthur smiled at her. She liked when he looked at her. Spoke to her. Talked to her. Her possessiveness was something she often tried and failed to hide. Yet, come the next morning, or maybe even sooner, she’d likely reach a point of wanting personal space and those very things she liked would become something she wanted to avoid. It was a complicated relationship to have with someone, yet Erin had it with several people...and yet, none of them were quite as complicated as that relationship with Arthur. [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

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Tag --- Arthur/Rye
Words --- 917
Lyrics --- "Things I`ll Never Say" By Avril Lavigne
Outfit --- A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.
Notes --- If you think so. That's what matters.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - If Arthur’s liquor cabinet was ever empty, or more accurately, dangerously close to being cleaned out, there was usually a good reason behind it. Such as, he was in one of those moods... or Erin dropped by on one of her visits and they drank the night away... The end results varied. Only a few of those sorts ended well by most means; the rest he could barely remember hazy arguments and maybe even a thrown empty bottle or two. Another reason was Ewan, the eldest (and stupidest in Arthur's opinion)... Apparently he also infrequently came by, usually already well on his way to being sloshed and completed the death of his sobriety by way of emptying Arthur's storage of alcohol. Lovely. He didn’t realise that his liquor cabinet was so popular among the British siblings. Which is also why he kept it well stocked. He never knew when he was going to get one of those unexpected drop-ins. For the most part, he didn’t shove them out of his home. There were certain things that the British Isles nations could do well together… and one of them was drinking (to an extent.) Best not further limit the list of things that they could do together. Family is family—a thought that creased his brow. Sometimes Arthur did prefer the older days—even if those were some of the most trying between them. Everything was simpler. At least, for him. It was easier to relate to Wales, for instance, when recollecting the time when his older brother had first taught him how to shoot an arrow as opposed to the later memories where Arthur thoroughly and brutally subjugated him. But like the others, Arthur remembered a few moments with Erin as well, though they seemed far and few between. She always did like to pester him, if he remembered correctly. And while his younger self was often annoyed by that, he couldn’t help but return the same sort of affection (in an aggravating way, of course.) He caught her amused grin and returned a smaller one, chuckling briefly at her statement. ”You probably couldn’t tell the difference, honestly. You raid my liquor cabinet, don’t you?” His voice was teasing. It was true, though. Sometimes he did spend the extra money to buy alcohol that had been aged prior to being stocked... more often than not. Though, anything was good if the only aim for drinking it in the first place was to eventually pass out. He had his moments though, if preferred company ever stopped by, where he would drink socially. Arthur, still a bit relaxed from his previous drinks, didn’t argue with her. ”Probably,” he said, a small smirk twisting his mouth. Any proposal that suggested more alcohol was a always good idea. Yes, of course it was. If he knew about her other plans to deck him out in her colours, however; he probably wouldn’t have been so inclined. But then again, why not? No one aside from them was watching. They could let loose for a bit and not have to worry about the scrutiny of others. It had already been a stale week—having one night of nonsense fun wouldn’t hurt. He took a longer drink, finishing his half-emptied bottle within a few more before opening one of the liquors—something a bit more potent, anything that would take the rest of the edge off. He hesitated when she asked about ping pong balls, unsure if he wanted to even admit to having some of these oddball things lying around. He’d rather not get into the story of how they got there—incidents that mostly involved strangers and indiscreet nights from a few years back. Reaching over into the drawer of a side table, he pulled out a dusty box filled with odds and ends of games, cards, and he was fairly sure that what she had asked for was also somewhere in the collage of items. He didn’t explain, but he was fairly sure that she didn’t expect him to, so he went back to the bottle as he set it on the table in front of them. ”We’ll need cups for that,” he suggested, his words were warm and a little loose, but he was still pretty sober. Just… relaxed, well, maybe a little more than just relaxed. He got up to rummage through the kitchen, not entirely remembering where he kept the disposable ones. It’s not like he used them all that often. A long moment passed before he found them in the furthest, dustiest corner of his storage space, the package was still unopened and it looked as if it had been purchased well over a year ago. Ah well. He returned to his seat next to her, placing them in the pile of possibilities. He peered over once more, a whisper of that same smile present. ”You choose. It’s your day.” Good Lord, the world must be ending. Arthur was actually being a bit genial to Erin. It’s not as if it were a complete novelty, but it was still something... well, different. He gave a casual shrug of the shoulders as he indulged once more in the liquor that he had chosen. What was he drinking anyhow? Seconds passed after he concluded that it didn’t really matter. It was strong. The burn was quick and ever welcome. Arthur vaguely wondered when Erin would eventually push him away, as she usually did come morning or late in the night. Whichever, he knew that he wouldn’t mind. He was far more used to it than what would probably be considered healthy. And not just by her. Whenever Erin demanded her personal space, Arthur was more than happy to give it to her in obscene doses. After tonight, depending on how it ended, he might go back to ignoring her. One time it was for months on end. They knew how to be cruel to each other... and they usually did it well. One good turn deserves another—the mordant thought made him snort softly into his drink. But he put that aside for now. For tonight he was living in the moment. TAGGING: Erin/Ireland. NOTES: Hah, ping pong balls = college drinking games. Never really gets old. x) TIME: Present. TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION.

It don’t do me any good,
It’s just a waste of time…

[/b][/color]



ERIN “IRELAND” PATRICK[/size][/b]
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2012

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Erin’s alcohol amounts often got depleted. You could say it was unexpected, but after so long it was far from unexpected and she managed to keep it well stocked most of the time. When she ran out she just took a trip out to overload and start the process again. The girl was as much of an alcoholic as a person could get and then some. For her slight size, you’d never guess how much it would take to get the girl smashed.

Erin didn’t get serious hangovers anymore generally as a result. She had vivid memory of the irritating mornings after drinking. With anyone they didn’t normally go well, with Arthur…it was hit and miss. Over the years, it was still save to say the usual was a bad morning. Hell, sometimes it became a small party of sorts. Those were great nights and bad mornings.

Erin’s arriving at places to mooch alcohol or just relax often relatively frequently with certain people. She knew she wasn’t likely to get turned away at some places, and others tended to be a guarantee not to let her in. Arthur’s was one of the places she could go anytime and be welcomed in. She viewed him as a mix of family and…well…the rest of the feelings were quite confusing and varied depending on her mood; Love, adoration, hatred, annoyance, friendship, understanding, anger and frustration. Any combination of could cause some weird reactions in Erin. If you were looking for consistency of personality, Erin wasn’t exactly the person to hang with after all…

History between Arthur and Erin was complicated. She idolized him in many ways early on, but quickly she learned to see the darker side of things. She had learned to do whatever it took to push him away…but she didn’t want to push him away a lot of the time. She just wanted to irritate him into a reaction, or push his buttons. She wanted to find out what made him react and lose control. He was a particular favourite of hers to target to make her feel better when she was feeling her worst. Irritate someone else and make them feel negative feelings too…misery loves company right? Yet, when she was seeking a friend tonight, she came to him just the same.

”Probably not!”

[/b] she laughed at his suggestion of her not telling the difference. She knew the difference between types and even between select brands (when it came to whisky at least). Erin was not one of refined tastes. She didn’t care if it was 10 years old or 2 years old. Wine was wine! ”Indeed I do. But whose Liquor cabinet do I not raid anymore?”[/b] she joked back. She still didn’t notice the difference, go figure.

Erin was delighted at his compliance and the little smirk. How much had he consumed before she got here? Who cared! He was in for a drinking game. Erin was delighted at the chance to get him as sloshed as she could. After all, everyone was more fun when their decision making skills took a hit and they stopped doing things based on social protocol. Erin had done so many terrible things drunk that the list was unbelievable. She had no issues with personal image in front of people, which probably assisted with that. Other people, in her experience, required a bit more alcohol to motivate them.

Erin watched as Arthur hesitated and took the opportunity to down the rest of the one bottle, while turning back to the other bottle she had. Erin watched him closely, doing a careful up and down examination while his back was turned as he dug out the required objects for the game. She snapped her eyes to the little clutter of stuff once he turned, her eyebrow raising in question. She didn’t bother asking though, it could have been anything from a visit with Ewan to something completely obscure that resulted in ping pong balls and other trinkets in Arthur’s home.

Erin, who was still sober, nodded her agreement to the need for cups. ”We may want to fill them with water, I don’t fancy drinking whatever gets on the ping pong balls if we go there…”[/b] she offered, in reference to whisky pong. Only sissies played beer pong after all!!

Erin couldn’t keep the delight off her face as he said ‘It’s your day’. Damn right it was her day. He recognized it as her day and so did everyone else. It was such a small thing, but him registering it meant more to her for the moment. Okay, maybe she wasn’t completely sober…She only had a few drinks before she arrived! (More like several, even for her). But Arthur had deferred the decision to her! That was big right? Whatever he had been drinking before she came, she needed to get him to drink it more often!

Erin didn’t even hesitate to answer. ”Pong! With whatever we have. I’ve always preferred Whisky, but if I am going to make this interesting best I use something that affects me better…like Tequila or Gin.”[/b] She decided with a devious smirk. ”Got any of those around?”[/b] she asked, not waiting for a response and instead getting into the cabinet herself to look for some. Erin was going to get tanked, whether she had to make a call to get more alcohol or not!! Perhaps she may even remain passed out long enough that she didn’t pull a royal shit fit later tonight or early tomorrow. She could make a first of it…leave in a graceful state of mind (if anything Erin did could be called graceful!). [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

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[/color]

Tag --- Arthur/Rye
Words --- 942
Lyrics --- "Things I`ll Never Say" By Avril Lavigne
Outfit --- A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.
Notes --- xD Gotta love good old fashion drinking games

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - If someone was looking for entertainment in some form or another, Arthur was a surprisingly good person to get drunk with. He’s usually one for social protocol and yes, admittedly can be a bit of a repressed arse when sober. On the flip side, being drunk allowed all of that to come loose, like releasing the floodgates after a terribly long storm. He wasn’t always like this... There was a time, a few centuries back (and hell, even a few decades back into the lovely 70’s) when he was an impulsive, pleasure-seeking bastard who cared very little about consequences. One of the things that hadn’t changed over the course of time was his weakness for liquor. It was a passionate and powerful weakness and after drowning his liver in it for the evening, glimpses of that careless, impulsive bugger from the past resurfaced. It wasn’t at all uncommon. With the right amount, the English nation may have an occasional argument with inanimate objects, laugh far more easily than he normally would, actually smile for once (albeit a very drunk and distant one), and often wanted to shag the first halfway decent looking person that crossed his path. Yes… most people never gave him alcohol unless they didn’t mind the results... Even hangovers were something that he had gotten used to over the course of time. When he was younger and beneath the dull haze of alcohol, he normally woke up with absolutely no memory of the night before accompanied with a pounding, aching pulse at his temple. Presently, upon waking up after a similar night, he’d most likely still be a little plastered, slightly agitated, but would eventually brush it off and go about his day as usual. All despite the dull, ever-present ache. Arthur knew how to handle Erin whenever she invited herself into his home. And like any person that you’ve known for the majority of your life, he took in her bad qualities along with her good and just… accepted her. It doesn’t mean that he’s entirely pleased with the girl, especially whenever she flies off into her rages or other such dramatic moods. Or even when she purposefully pushes his buttons for her own amusement (or so he believed). Nonetheless, he takes her for what she is regardless. Just as he does with Ewan and Bran. They’re their own version of a screwed up family—they stick with each other, even if they occasionally hate each other’s guts. Arthur snorted at Erin’s admittance, highly amused. Well—at least she was being honest—an amiable quality in his opinion. That was a hell of a lot more than he could say about the pretentious continental European nations—particularly those who turned their nose up at him...at least until he had fought his way into the status of an empire. Certain nations that he would spitefully name more quickly than others. Nevertheless, Arthur was well on his way to completely losing his sobriety… and he didn’t care. He rarely ever did whenever he started drinking. Once he started—especially if it was in the later hours of the day—than he wasn’t going to stop until he had reached that satisfying level where everything felt good, funny, warm, and wild. Like Erin, Arthur had done a great number of terrible things while sloshed, some of which he would rather forget. Other moments, he didn’t mind so much, such as certain acts that he had committed against Spain after dominating him during his ‘privateering’ days... a good portion of which he had liquor running through his blood. But it also served as a reminder for why so many had grown to hate him... Completely unaware of Erin’s eyes on him, he turned around to plop the cups on the table before hearing her suggestion. If completely sober, he might have thought of that before anything else… as he usually had his stringent protocol with cleanliness. ”Eh, right…” He moved a couple of large bottles of water from the edge of his counter space to the table. ”Good,” he replied, in quick agreement with her. He had gotten all the necessary things out for it, so it made sense to just use what they had. ”I always have gin…” Arthur paused for a moment, vaguely remembering that he also had some tequila tucked away back when Teresa had come over while she had… certain issues with her home a few months ago. And of course, she brought her well-loved brand of tequila along. And with it, Arthur discovered just how strong the stuff was. After a series of dry shots… he was completely out of it. He might have some left over from that incident… ”Actually… Resa might have left some tequila behind from her last visit…” he muttered, echoing his thoughts and standing from his spot on the sofa to peer alongside Erin into his liquor cabinet once more. He was fairly sure that the bottle wouldn’t be stashed with his usual purchases, because it wasn't a usual choice of his. For good reason. It took a few more moments of searching through the bottles upon bottles of various whiskeys, gins, and rums, before he found the one he was looking for. He had to crouch low to get at it, as it was toward the bottom in the far back. When his fingers finally wrapped around the smooth neck of the glass, he pulled it free. He stood back up, closing the cabinet door and glancing over at Erin, a mischievous smile twisting his lips as he waved the bottle slightly. ”Tempted?” he asked, a dark sort of playfulness laced through his voice. ...He might regret it in the morning if Erin decided to take it for their little game. Tequila never did handle Arthur gently. TAGGING: Erin/Pancake. NOTES: Pffft tequila… yeah... xDTIME: Present. TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION.

It don’t do me any good,
It’s just a waste of time…

[/b][/color]



ERIN “IRELAND” PATRICK[/size][/b]
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2012

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Erin would strongly agree with anyone that Arthur was a lot of fun drunk. In fact, without alcohol she found him to be unbearably boring sometimes. He was snippy with her and far less tolerant without a little alcohol. Then again, if you asked Erin, everyone is better when they are drunk. Arthur was just a particularly strong argument for Erin’s opinion.

She had experienced many stages of Arthur and could admit that personalities among nations could hardly be deemed consistent. Arthur had stages, Erin has had stages, everyone had stages of fun, boredom and various tediums. Sometimes Erin wished for earlier years when many of her friends were more fun, and sometimes she simply wished whole decades had never happened because everyone was so dry and un-entertaining. Erin often lived in each moment though, not fussing too much about the future. Perhaps that was why she dealt with so much crap over the years?

Erin ran wild. She drank what she wanted. Ate what she wanted. Did what she wanted. Went where she wanted to go. Spent time wherever she pleased. Slept with whoever tickled her fancy. She wasn’t a reserved individual by any means. She often had a hard time remembering that other people have their own desires and may not want her around. Erin was selfish! She had moments where she realized other people needed something from her for a change, but those moments were few and meant all the more for it.

That being said, there were certain things Erin had the ability to overlook as traits in others. That didn’t mean that she was okay with everything, actually it was quite the opposite. She had people she enjoyed the company of and found many things she hated in those people over the years. By now she had developed a short term tolerance for those hated things. How short term varied and that was why there was the yelling matches, the raging and the spontaneous spats that resulted in her leaving a person she came to visit. Short term just wasn’t long enough...but it also meant that the irritation lasted a short time as well. It took a true argument to get Erin to hold a grudge; these were just little irritations instead.

Erin knew she was difficult to get along with and difficult to handle (though she would never admit it to anyone). She knew that those who did tolerate her, and even better; those who cared about her, were worth hanging onto. Over the long years she had formed friendships and familial ties that she was sure to not sever completely in a petty spat, despite her spiteful nature of unleashing her anger.

Erin grinned stupidly at Arthur’s response as he went to grab the water bottles. Getting him sloshed was going to be easy. Now, getting him to wear the orange and green required finesse she probably didn’t have, or more alcohol than sloshed! It was more likely that once she was drunk she would reveal her plan and fail at subtly altogether. Perhaps she should cut back on dri---haha, like that would ever happen! If she failed at subtly oh well, at least she’d be drunk off her ass.

Erin was tugging bottles of Gin out of the cupboard as soon as she heard Arthur’s admission of always having gin. She knew that by now so she hardly had to make an effort to find it. Yet another pointless question...well the tequila wasn’t pointless to ask about at least.

Hearing his mutter Erin’s head spun around quick. Resa! RESA!? She hated it when Arthur had anyone over. Erin tried to stifle the feelings of intense jealousy and somehow managed it. She’d get her vengeance later...If she remembered this in the morning.

Erin was quickly distracted as Arthur began rummaging. She found herself picking out and collecting the bottles of whisky he shifted about, as well as a select few bottles of gin and rum. Erin’s eyes followed the bottle he pulled out of the cabinet. Her eyes followed the waving bottle. His tone gave her the shivers but she didn’t bother to respond to the tone directly. ”Double shot tequila and whisky pong, or single?”

[/b] she asked, her tone daring him to select double shot. There wasn’t enough in the one bottle for more than a round of single shot with just tequila. So if they alternated cups with tequila and whisky they could make it into a double shot game.

As Erin began setting up the cups and filling them with water so she didn’t have to drink whatever happened to be on Arthur’s floor, she let her eyes keep roaming to the Tequila bottle. Tequila hit Erin like no other alcohol. She would be having quite the evening now that the tequila was in the open and she would regret not a single sip the next morning...she never did. [/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

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Tag --- Arthur/Rye
Words --- 820
Lyrics --- "Things I`ll Never Say" By Avril Lavigne
Outfit --- A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.
Notes --- One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, FLOOR!

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[/color]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Erin wasn’t alone in being a bit of a target for Arthur’s curtness. No one was spared. It sort of went with his explicitly cynical view of the world and those in it. That was something that hadn’t changed over the years. Arthur’s shortness with someone is rarely equated with dislike aside from certain special cases. In those incidents, there would be a bit more to his words than mere shortness. As much as the world seemed to believe it, however; Arthur wasn’t made of stone—he loved and wanted to be loved just like anyone else. Granted there were very few in the world that he had ever shown affection to. Aside from all their bickering and blood spoiled conflict, the other British Isles nations had always been a part of that small, vulnerable cluster for him. However, he is also far from being a bleeding heart. Like hell he would ever admit to any of that! Getting Arthur sloshed was sinfully easy, hence why half the world knew exactly what he was like when he’d had a few too many. Not that any of those times were nights were the nation had overestimated his current limit (well… the majority of them in any case.) No, he was very purposeful in getting himself drunk. He welcomed it for rather unhealthy reasons and made a fool of himself for it later on. He didn’t necessarily care most of the time, though. As long as there weren’t any long term ramifications for his actions. He would still wake up the next morning as the same resilient nation who didn’t need to fear the majority of the world. It was an odd luxury of negated consequences. At least in that department. A drunk-Arthur probably wouldn’t have put up much of a fight with Erin’s scheme of forcing him to wear her colours. After reaching that level of drunkenness, anyone could start stripping him and he’d either be laughing his arse off or in the sudden, feverish mood to rip the other’s clothes off as well. Which usually ended in an enormous migraine if that person that he had downed liquor with was someone that he happened to despise at the moment… like Francis. That was always the worst sight to wake up to. At the rate that they were pulling out bottles of liquor from Arthur’s cabinet, it almost looked as if they were setting out the liquor stock for a large party instead of only two people... The sight of everything being set out on the counter would have certainly mortified a completely sober Arthur. Erin was already tugging out bottles of Gin on top of the whiskeys that they already piled on the table. It was almost comical looking. Arthur didn’t notice Erin’s reaction to his mutter, as he believed that he was quiet enough for no one to have heard him in the first place… and he was so focused on finding that bottle in the dusty corner of his cabinet that he probably wouldn’t have given it any heed in the first place. Distractions were always good… Arthur often implemented them whenever he could with Erin. It was useful in curbing impending arguments if they were menial enough or even to hide certain things. Sober… not now. Any distractions from now on were entirely accidental. Perhaps… Yes, actually. They were. Erin’s response was answer enough. ”Double,” he answered casually, not really putting much thought into it at all. Obviously, Arthur wasn’t being cautious with his alcohol intake tonight. He’d already made a choice of getting thoroughly and deliciously plastered, so he was going to take everything that he could without inhibition. After setting the tequila among their already large collection of filled bottles, Arthur started to clear the table. Taking aside a few whiskey bottles set upon it along with whatever else he normally kept there. As Erin filled the cups with water, Arthur arranged the readied ones in the usual setup. ”Is there some sort of ritual that you favour in order to determine who goes first?” He had done this often enough to know that everyone had their own little rules concerning the game—some almost laughably solemn with their silly alcohol game rites. Personally, Arthur didn’t really see the point in other’s argument over what the “correct” way to start out was. ”Or you can just choose?” Arthur shrugged. Again, he was giving her that particular honour due to the occasion. Either way he wouldn’t be bothered by whatever she chose to do. Sometimes he did think it was funny how some people were so particular with the details of drinking games. Really, Arthur didn’t care as long as alcohol was seeping favourably into the bloodstream. While most types of liquor were good social lubricants… tequila may be better defined as a lubricant for hidden idiocy potential. Everyone seemed to get hit pretty hard by it regardless of tolerance. TAGGING: Erin/Pancake. NOTES: xD I might make it somewhere through the second. If even. I’m horribly lightweight. xDTIME: Present. TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION.

[style=background-color: #009A49; font-family: arial; font-size: 18px; font-weight:bold; color: #000; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; padding: 10px; padding-top:0px; line-height:80%; border:2px solid #FFF;]
It don’t do me any good,
It’s just a waste of time…

[/style][style=background-color: #009A49; font-family: arial; font-size: 24px; font-weight:bold; color: #000; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; padding: 10px; padding-top:2px; line-height:40%; border:2px solid #FFF;]
March 2012

Everyone has their faults right? Well Erin was guilty of seeing everyone’s faults and blowing up on them for it. Hell, she’d blow up on someone for no real reason given the chance. She was volatile by nature and that often complicated things, especially her various relationships with people. Friends, family and enemies didn’t always know where they stood with Erin. Generally it was best for them to just assume she both hated and cared for them...it could even be said that her enemies knew her feelings more clearly than her friends. At least she was somewhat consistently nasty with them.

Erin was subconsciously aware of Arthur’s more human side, even if consciously she lacked the observational skills to know much of the difference. She had seen enough of Arthur over the years to know he had the ability to be human. He could act in many roles and had for Erin over their long history. Being from the same Island area, Erin spent many years relying on Arthur, even when she didn’t want to. Hell, beyond the majority of her life she was under England’s jurisdiction politically. She had see both good and bad things, and that was largely part of her confusing feelings for him. Was he a big brother figure? A father figure? Datable? A lover? A friend? An enemy? A bastard who suppressed her independence? The one who finally let her have her independence? It was very confusing, but the only thing she had determined is he was as close to family as she got (well, along with Ewan and Bran of course). Usually you don’t take sexual interest in your family...but this wasn’t human standards after all, so that was how she could best describe their relationship, even if it was a bit non-specific.

At least she was sure she loved it when he was completely sloshed. Drunk people were always more enjoyable and Erin found she had greater tolerance for others when she was drunk. She could have fun with even her enemies while drunk. It was a beautiful thing. Alcohol could make anyone into a friend and anyone into a source of entertainment. The fact that she was already quite interested in Arthur’s company before the alcohol meant that she was more than happy with him while pleasantly inebriated. She would get there...but first...Irish colours. She had to focus if she was going to hold out. Erin was asking herself to go against her nature, forgo too much alcohol just long enough to outlast Arthur until he was in the perfect state...Even Erin wasn’t kidding herself on the odds. The chances of it actually being Erin getting him to wear her colours was slim anyways, it would more likely end in no clothes at all...

If Arthur was easy, Erin was ridiculously easy. She was easy sober, let alone after she got really into her drinks. She had woken up with plenty of strangers in her life who were non-nation, state or city. She had plenty of mornings waking up to nations, states and cities she just met or partners she had been with before. The girl was terrible for it. She wasn’t one to say no, and if she said no it was because she was sober enough not and you are on the list of people she doesn’t like. Enough alcohol meant even those people were on the radar as possible partners.

Erin was pleased with the quantities of alcohol, and hoped it would be enough to stamp out the feeling of jealousy still bubbling inside her. She almost felt a need to establish that Arthur was hers just by jumping him then and there. That wasn’t appropriate...yet. After Whisky/Tequila Pong. That was more appropriate. You don’t distract from the game, unless it’s a strategy to help you win.

Erin grinned happily when he said double, and she quickly pulled out the scotch glasses and filled them with what approximated a double shot of tequila. She pulled out and poured as many of them as she could locate so the two were ready to go. Very quickly the tequila was gone and she was loading the last few glasses with whisky instead. She gave the table a look over to be sure everything was in place and then plopped the empty bottle and the half bottle of tequila out of the way. It seemed the collection of empty bottles was already beginning.

Erin contemplated for a moment and since she wanted him to get drunk first decided she would play first. ”I’ll go first I think...” she offered, pleased to once again be able to choose. The fact that he gave her that option took some of the burn off of the jealousy she was feeling toward Resa.

She kept a bottle of whisky close by for casual drinking along with the game as she positioned herself on one side of the now set up table. ”And so it begins..” she added dramatically before picking up a ping pong ball and getting ready. ”Now we will get you royally Fluthered.” She gleefully added, tossing the ball and bouncing it off the table and into the first cup. The girl had a ton of experience, naturally, though it wasn’t like she was perfect. A little more alcohol and the game would be much more challenging for her.

Erin was open to changes in her drinking games, and even more open to new games. She wasn’t one for ceremony or particulars. The only absolutes for her was that when Africa or Planet Earth is playing on the Discovery channel, she has to record it or watch it and that Whisky is always the best booze. Anything else was subject to change. Plans, favourites, likes, dislikes, all of it. Given her ever-changing nature, it was no surprise really. Drinking games in particular were about the alcohol. The games were just entertainment to force the consumption of more of it. Particulars were hard to remember anyways...definitely not drunk friendly.

”Drink away...”

[/color] she said with a smirk, passing him a glass of what was probably a little more than a double shot of Tequila. Who needs salt and limes right?
[/div]

TAG: Arthur/Rye
WORDS: 1034
LYRICS: "Things I`ll Never Say" By Avril Lavigne
OUTFIT: A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.
NOTES: I don't really drink Tequila anymore. It gives me terrible hangovers. One shot can guarantee a headache. Two or three and I am royally drunk. Any other alcohol except Gin and Tequila, I can handle a little more. Hence Erin's weakness of Gin and Tequila. At least Tequila makes sense geographically, even if Gin doesn't.

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i299.photobucket.com/albums/mm285/djakos/BlackPattern512.jpg) ] poison under my skin creeping in slowly feeding everything i feel so close yet so far away. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Arthur was sure that Erin noticed his faults far more often than he cared to know. Not that he really cared if she detested him for his faults—the majority of the world did—it’s not as if it would make much of a difference to add an explosive neighbor to that assortment. Arthur had long past cared what the world thought of him. If he had, then he wouldn’t have become an empire. Even after losing that status, Arthur believed that it was better to retain a sense of dignity instead of languishing about like a cheery-hearted fool like Antonio; that Spanish bastard was half the man that he used to be. He currently was only an embarrassing disappointment in Arthur’s opinion—a rival no longer worthy to compete against. The history between Erin and Arthur certainly was long and complicated—spanning an obscene number of years. But those were the best kind to have. Despite her (at times) shocking impulsiveness and moodiness, Erin was never a bore to him as much as he liked to deny it. Truly there was nothing worse than failing to pique Arthur’s interest, even vaguely. He had lived long enough to know that novelty was becoming a rarity. Things were simply no longer surprising—therefore, terribly dull. But those years between them revealed everything—Arthur had likewise seen the female nation at her worse and at her best. He didn’t really know where to categorise her either. She was just Erin—wrapped in an array of infuriating, wonderful, and heavy moments. Sometimes it was a bit backwards for nations to act like humans and label their relationships so cleanly. It wasn’t uncommon for their kind to have several, complicated relations with one another. Really, Arthur didn’t think much of it. Alcohol was a dear solace for Arthur and it had been for years. He did it to suffocate the things that he never wanted to ever come to light again—heavy feelings for the other Isle nations, for his former charge, hell even for a very few select of his allies. He never wanted to confront things that were better left in the dark—horrible things that tore at his heart in the past, leaving it barely healed over with the passage of time. Alcohol was a necessity. And of course, the pleasant quirks that naturally came with being plastered were always more than favourable. Presently, he needed a bit of that tequila and gin in order to be in that perfect state of mind. Soon after, his reason would be completely shot. And of course, the minute anyone started touching his clothing, he always drunkenly mistook that as an unspoken cue to start slipping heated fingers beneath theirs as well. Arthur never liked to think of himself as easy. Drunk? Hell, yes, he was. Sober… it depends. But still, Arthur preferred to think that he at least had some shreds of dignity leftover after his wild decades and was at least somewhat choosey with who he slept with. Old habits die hard, though. And Arthur really was no different if he were to be brutally honest with himself... He watched Erin pour the liquor into the glasses, satisfied to see that they were already collecting empty bottles. Those were always lovey to see, uncaring with how much was consumed while in a heavy, pleasant haze. He had never been much for drinking games normally. If he was looking to get deliciously sloshed, then he just went straight for the drink—usually with the first available person nearby. And sometimes that someone might be unlucky enough to have to deal with an insatiable, drunk Arthur, either containing him from doing something stupid or getting sloshed themselves and waking up to having done something stupid with him. Arthur looked a bit amused and his gaze was intense, watching her from the end of the table. He snorted at her words. ”God, I hope so. Though I’d prefer to drag you down with me, luv,” he stated flatly, a barely hidden smirk at the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t surprised that she made a successful first toss. Erin had done this often enough, no doubt. He removed the cup with the ball, setting it to the side. Quickly accepting the large double shot of tequila, he downed it with relish. His throat felt raw from the burn, but after doing it so often before, it was an exquisite sort of burn, one that heavy drinkers tend to eagerly anticipate. It wasn’t long before the lovely heat sank low into his body. He retrieved the ball from his discarded cup, smearing some of the water from the surface with the side of his thumb. He took his shot, hoping that the slight swimming feeling in his head wouldn’t hurt his aim. Like Erin’s, it bounced and landed in one of her cups. Unlike Erin; however, Arthur didn’t have the luxury of a ton of experience with drinking games, though he had enough to keep up a decent game. After a few more shots, it would easily be a hit-or-miss deal with him. ”Your turn...” His lips curved slightly as the languid gaze slid towards her, waiting for the first double shot on her end. TAGGING: Erin/Pancake. NOTES: Wasn’t too sure if they should play it taking turns or until they miss. I’ve seen both… so I just picked one. xD Either way, they’ll be well plastered. TIME: Present. TEMPLATE BY OH SO COOPERNATURAL ! @ CAUTION.

[style=width:400px; background-color:#FFF; font-family: Freestyle Script; font-size: 50px; color:#000; border-top: 10px solid #FF7900; border-bottom: 10px solid #FF7900;]March 2012

Erin often came across like she couldn’t care less what others thought of her. This was partially true. There was also a side of her that cared deeply what certain people thought of her, and disapproval from those people was devastating to her. She had some people she wanted to get along with until she was in their presence and then she was just plain nasty. To say Erin had little control over her own reactions and body language would be putting it lightly. Where Arthur learned to control himself, Erin had always merely expressed herself, and sometimes to poor effect. Her ego was delicate and her reaction to potential harm to it, was to get angry and push people away. This formed her constant circle of issues; she hates being alone, she tries to be friendly, she feels threatened in some superficial way, she pushes them away by being nasty, she sulks...repeat the process.

This process was predictable, but the aspects of it were unpredictable. When she would move to the next step was never consistent. How she reacted at each stage was completely up in the air. The more invested she was, the more volatile and unpredictable she became. Perhaps that was why Arthur caused such large reactions from her. She went from one extreme to the next, minimal predictability. It would still take that path and end with her storming away from him and leaving him be until she wanted his attention enough to come back. The time in between was what changed. Was she in love with Arthur? Perhaps, perhaps not. Was love the right word? Was it lust? Was it wanting something that wasn’t hers to want? Was it trying to claim someone who wasn’t hers to claim? Was it simply a childlike response to want to own what she couldn’t own? It was likely a bit of all of it, and so complex and multi-faceted that not even Erin could describe her relationship with Arthur. Perhaps she would use the word friend, that is until someone came along and claimed Arthur’s attention...then he was much more.

Erin’s outrageous reactions and extremes were in effect even now. She was blissfully delighted to have Arthur’s undivided attention and with alcohol as an always effective relaxant, she was less likely to blow up on him for something microscopic. She was sitting on the positive end of the extremes. Alcohol wasn’t something to adjust her perceptions of the past or present. For Erin, it was an entertainment, an addiction and a coping mechanism to keep her raging emotions in check. She was happy when she was drinking, which meant she was less likely to get a moody outburst. Too bad less likely was not a definite and she still had a rotten track record, even while drunk. One thing you could say was Erin lived. She did what she wanted, when she wanted to do it, regardless of her mood.

That being said, it was no surprise that Erin was the type to do something stupid with Arthur rather than keeping him in check. Erin lacked the responsibility when it came to drinking to say no to more alcohol or more fun, no matter how ridiculous. Perhaps that was part of the reason why she woke up next to Arthur often enough and why she did so many ridiculous things when she’d been drinking.

Erin laughed at Arthur’s retort to her words of getting him drunk. She had to agree, that sounded quite enjoyable. ”Okay, let me rephrase that. We will get you Fluthered and me Pissed and we’ll be drunk and merry together!”

[/b] Erin offered with a wide grin, as she raised her glass and then took a large swig of it, almost like a toast.

She found herself eyeing his glass jealously when he took the double shot. He better get one in, she wanted a double shot!! Erin loved any form of alcoholic pong, but ultimately she just wanted to drink the booze. Winning was a secondary objective. She watched expectantly as he went to toss the ball. Erin had to stifle a cheer as it went in. Regardless the pleasure of taking a double shot was written all over her face in a broad smile. She took a double shot and tossed it back, the warm burn a wonderful feeling. Whisky didn’t burn quite like that anymore, not with Erin’s tolerance for it. Though, in terms of flavour, her whisky still tasted amazing compared to the bitter Tequila.

It took her a moment to remember to fish out the ball, and then she casually tossed it, letting it bounce once and then land in, another cup. She removed the cup it had been floating in moments before, setting it aside. ”So, how long till you start missing cups?!”[/b] she asked with clear amusement on her face. She was merely poking fun, but she hadn’t found many who could match her in most drinking games. Except for maybe flip cup. That one got really challenging after a few drinks when her patience took a hike.
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TAG: Arthur/Rye
WORDS: 850
OUTFIT: A pair of jeans, an orange tank top, and a green long sleeve jacket.
NOTES: Sounds good to me. My friends usually play it as whoever gets their hands on the ball gets to throw it for their team. So if it misses and bounces and rolls under the table, first one to it gets to throw it, even if it is the team that just threw the ball. xD

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