Bloodstream

[ColdHarem]

Private 1x1 RP for ColdHarem and xLovelyBonesx

~ Junkie x Junkie ~​

 

[Artificial Sugar]

Were you still interested?

 

[ColdHarem]

"So where do you two lovebirds want to go next?"


"How about Club 360? The music's pretty good."


"Nah, Oscar and I got kicked out of there, now the bastards won't let us back in."


"Jesus Christ, what do you have to do to get kicked out of fucking 360?"


"We may have knocked out the DJ and done coke of the music records, but they never secured conclusive evidence, so who knows."


"Fucks sake you two."


Laughing, Oscar stubbed out a cigarette underfoot, scrunching it into the pavement. He was standing outside his dealer's apartment with his two mates and companions for the evening, Jessica and Spike, the two of whom were draped off of one another, Jessica slapping her boyfriend and giggling every time he tried to cop a feel. "I honestly don't give a fuck where we go, so long as we can hurry up and snort this stuff," Spike said, at least bothering to keep his voice down so no one who shouldn't be listening overheard.


"How about the pub?" Jessica suggested, stroking Spike's bleached hair with glassy eyes and a dazed smile. She'd used her tits to get a couple of free hits of a joint off of the dealer, and thanks to her tiny body, she got stoned pretty easy. "It's got a bathroom and cheap drinks. Plus plenty of old sleazes to get a drink out of."


"Sounds good to me," Spike agreed, looking to Oscar for a decision, receiving a nod in return. The pub it was then.


Given the late hour, the streets of the city were pretty much deserted, Oscar and his friends certainly the loudest people gathered there as they walked down the boulevard laughing and debating amongst themselves in raised voices the pros and cons of screwing your dealer. Hushing up to try and pass as nice, civilised customers, they stumbled into the pub, stifling giggles. The drinking had started two hours ago.


"Three of your finest beers, good barkeep," Spike said with a grin as he went over to the bar, putting a fiver down on the bartop to show that they intended to pay. For the first round at least. Jessica meanwhile grabbed Oscar by the wrist, doing a pretty bad job of stopping herself from laughing, and tugged him into the disabled toilet, turning the lock behind them. "Don't mind them," Spike said to the barkeep, smiling pleasantly. "She just doesn't like to pee alone. Suffered a lot of childhood trauma. You understand, I'm sure. Not that I'm saying you suffered a childhood trauma. You look entirely well-adjusted to me."


Pulling a bag of coke out from down her shirt, Jessica handed it over to Oscar to tap out some of the white powder and cut it into two lines upon the sink with a long disabled credit card. Since she'd paid for it, Jessica did the first hit, Oscar following up with the second line, leaning back against the wall as the shot hit him. "Your fucking face," Jessica wheezed through a laugh, slumped on the toilet and grinding in some strange dance along to music only she heard.


"Sober up, sweetheart," Oscar said, tapping her round the face and pulling her up. "We've got an adoring public to go play nicely with."


Returning to Spike at the bar, who'd been begrudgingly served by a bartender who looked like he was seriously considering calling the police then and there, Oscar and Jessica grabbed a drink and raced to chug it first, slamming the empty glasses back down on the bar when they were finished, Spike cheering as Oscar finished a good three seconds before the lady. A man in his late fifties or so was staring at Jessica's ass, which was more out than in of her short shorts, and she returned his leer with a sweet smile, scooting over a barstool to cuddle up next to him, resting a hand on his wrist. The two boys both knew they only had a couple of moments to wait until they'd get their next drink.


"Waitress is cute," Spike whispered, leaning over to Oscar as he looked over the staff. Turning to follow his gaze, Oscar appraised the woman he meant. She was cute, as Spike had said, with a punk sort of side shave and piercings. Whilst Oscar didn't exactly have one set type, he could appreciate anyone who decorated themselves according to a cliche or stereotype, particularly the alternative sets.


"She looks like she'd snap you in half if you so much as look at her wrong. Besides, I thought you and Jessica were going monogamous to celebrate your anniversary tonight?"


"Jess will come around."

 

[Artificial Sugar]

"Shit." Atropa whispered to herself, glancing at the clock. It was well beyond the time she needed to be at work, but as usual, she'd woken up late, and had gotten a late start because of it.


"Shit, shit shiiiiit." She repeated to herself, suppressing a giggle. After her shower, she'd smoked the last of her meth away, and she was high as a kite right now.


Honestly, she wasn't sure what she was doing, besides standing there cursing to herself.


Her mind told her to get moving, but her body wasn't listening. She felt like her body wanted to do too many other things, and besides, work didn't sound fun.


"No. You need to go to work, for God's sake." She said out loud, glad no one else lived with her.


When she was high, she often spoke to herself out loud, and most people found it odd, thinking maybe she was insane or something.


And maybe she was, it wasn't as if she'd actually know. Insane people never thought they were crazy, after all.


The thought made her laugh again, and she wiped the tears from her eyes, smearing her eyeliner.


It didn't really matter though, since she was usually wearing the last nights makeup anyway, and it all looked the same smeared.


Taking a breath to calm herself, Atropa grabbed her purse and left her apartment, barely remembering to lock her door.


Most people said Meth made you paranoid, and it did, but it also made Atropa's brain quit thinking sometimes.


Not as if she really cared, anyway. Not thinking was a very good thing to do.


Luckily, the pub she worked at was only a block away, so she didn't really have to walk far. It was pretty cold outside, but it was refreshing to her. Lighting a cigarette, Atropa took a long drag and let it out, gazing at the night sky.


Her favorite time to be out was at night, which was why she'd taken the job.


"Man.. It's fuckin' beautiful." She whispered in awe, gazing at the stars.


Taking another drag, she continued walking, ignoring the hungry stares from the men around her, focusing instead on the sound of her high heeled boots on the pavement.


It was always a sound that entertained her, and it wasn't any different now that she was an adult.


Finally arriving at work, Atropa put out the cigarette and went inside, nodding to her boss behind the counter.


"Late again, Atropa." He told her, shaking his head. "Mm, yeah, I know, but you love me too much to fire me, baby." She purred at him, winking.


He chuckled and continued cleaning glasses while Atropa made her way behind the counter where she stashed her purse for safe keeping.


"Those fellas want another round. Mind bringing it to them, hun?" He asked her, pointing to a group of older men in the corner.


Nodding, Atropa put on a smile and grabbed the tray of drinks, hips swaying as she walked to their table.


The pub was pretty full tonight, nothing unusual, but Atropa had noticed a group of people that caught her eye.


One boy in particular, really. As she wandered around giving and taking drinks, she continued to watch him, trying to get a feel for him.


As the bar emptied out, she finally had the chance to take a small break, and she wandered behind the counter, leaning on her elbows, her ample cleavage on display for anyone and everyone. It always got her good tips.


"What're you drinkin', honey?" She asked the guy she'd had her eye on all night. No better way to get a guys attention than to ask him what he was drinking, especially when she had her assets on display.

 

[ColdHarem]

By 2am, wasted was the wrong word to use. Brain-dead would have been a more accurate description.


Sniggering constantly, Jessica was collapsed between Spike and some random girl who'd taken an interest in them. Judging by her snazzy haircut and how she was willing to buy them all drinks for the night, she was well off, probably just taking an interest in the wild kids as a chance to live on the edge. None of the trio cared about her motivations, however, just her pockets and, judging by the looks Jessica and Spike were giving each other, her breasts. It seemed monogamy was off the table then.


The rich girl was pretty and all, and Oscar appreciated the drinks, but in all honesty the waitress was of more interest to him. Maybe the alcohol was making him see things or he was just wonderfully vain, but he was pretty confident he'd caught her checking him out a couple times, and he made sure to return the favour, biting back on a grin whenever she caught him. She seemed too busy to talk, but that was hardly a hinderance; he could limit the flirting to eye contact and body language. Made it more fun anyway.


"Everything and anything," Spike answered her question from the other side of her when she came over, since he was too smashed to bother with not cock-blocking Oscar. "You're well fit love."


"Oi, loverboy," Jessica slurred, dragging him back into her huddle of free with the pretty rich girl, "We were having ourselves a discussion, remember?"


"Sorry about him," Oscar said cooly, giving the waitress the once over before smiling pleasantly and leaning forward. His alcohol tolerance levels were unnaturally high, and whilst the room was throbbing a bit and everything seemed louder, he'd been at this long enough to hold his composure around pretty girls. "And I'll have one of whatever you're into, providing you'll have one too. That is, assuming your boss doesn't mind. What time do you get off, honey?" He asked, echoing her pet name for people, careful to make it flirtatious rather than mocking.


Glancing over his shoulder at the other two and their new bed buddy for the night, Oscar could tell when he'd been ditched, though he would wager they'd make no protest against the idea of him joining them. The waitress, however, seemed far more interesting, and a lot more in her right mind, so mentally discarding them, he turned in his stool to face her, taking her hand and shaking it in a mock-formal manner. "I'm Oscar, by the way. If you want, after you get off, we could go out somewhere? Or did those gentlemen in the back already ask you?" He said with a light smirk, nodding in the direction of the group of old men in the corner who'd been there long before he'd arrived, all of whom were well into their fifties and had seemed more than appreciative of the cleavage the waitress put on display.


[[OOC: Sorry for it taking so long, migraine means I've been pretty awful at replying so apologies if this is a bit bleh, my head is trying to assassinate me xD ]]

 

[Artificial Sugar]

Atropa eyed the other guy warily, sure that he wasn't the type she'd be interested in.


He obviously couldn't hold his liquor well, and it was really annoying.


A pet peeve of hers, actually. She despised liquor, and people who couldn't act normally after they'd gotten drunk.


Being drunk wasn't something she'd ever do. She enjoyed a drink here and there, but never enough to get drunk.


After the years of abuse at the hands of her mother's drunk boyfriends, she'd come to hate the stuff.


Not to mention it was absolutely disgusting tasting.


"Don't worry about him. I deal with guys like him every night." She replied, a cool smile on her face as she gazed at his friend with barely contained disgust.


"I get off at six in the morning, but my tastes are probably different from yours- I like lighter stuff. I'm not tough like most drinkers around here."


She told him, smiling as she nodded to a customer who entered the pub.


Her boss, seeing she was "busy" took care of the new customer.





"Anyway, I'm Atropa, and if you're interested, we can do something a bit more fun than drinking."


She told him quietly, hinting at possibly some type of drug. She could tell when someone used drugs. It was like a sixth sense, junkies always knew when someone else was into something.


Chuckling at his joke, she bit her lip for a moment, thinking.


"Well, around here, I'm always asked out- and I do enjoy being taken care of, and let me tell you, those old men? They have quite a bit of money. However, you're much better looking than they are, so I think I'll make an exception here."


Grinning, she licked her lips softly and winked at him, standing up again and making a drink for someone who had just sat down at the bar.

 

[ColdHarem]

A bit more fun than drinking? Oscar's smile widened into a very particular one reserved for the promise of drugs, and looking Atropa over he tried to place her fix. Maybe coke, if he was lucky? She didn't look like a coke head, too relaxed for that. He listened to her toy with him, happy to be her plaything since it promised a reward in the end, he eyed her up, biting back on a grin. "Well thank you, I'm flattered," he said, equally coy as he eyed the wealthy men. Imagining them on coke was certainly entertaining at least. They'd probably pass out before the beautiful Atropa really got going. "And something more fun than drinking? If you can prove that it exists, I'm yours."


Playing pick up like this at a pub bar wasn't normally his thing. Usually less words were involved and more chemicals before any promises were made, but she was pretty and promised a 'fun night'. He hung around with Jessica, Spike, and their new friend until they disappeared in the early hours of the morning, piling into a taxi the rich girl had hired to head back to one of their apartments, giving Oscar a parting wave as they stumbled out of the door. He was content to sit around drinking, flirting with a couple of girls who came up to the bar on the way, though remaining seated until 6am came around, thankfully having long cultivated a nocturnal habit.


Once Atropa was free, however, he was happy to break away from mooching around the bar, escorting her outside. Daylight was just starting to break, the horizon a dreamy pale blue against dark, and the air was crisp. Perfect conditions to get shit-faced in. "So," Oscar said, pushing his hands into his pockets and turning to walk backwards to that he faced her. "My place or yours? Mines a total dump, as a warning. Essentially a squat." Which wasn't a lie, aside from the fact that he was literally squatting. Fortunately he spent most nights sleeping in someone else's bed or on their couch.


The streets were deserted at this early hour, not quite yet late enough for the rush to work, thus Oscar felt comfortable discussing more creative topics. "Say... I'm curious. What's your idea of fun then? Painting? Reading?" He guessed in jest, since she'd been allowed to play so coy earlier, he saw no fault in returning the tease.

 

[Artificial Sugar]

Atropa smiled and nodded at his thanks, glad she'd found someone cute to flirt with while at work.


She usually got asked out, but usually not by someone her own age. It was always older men, and although she was always up for free things, she would really have preferred to spend time with guys her age, just because they were much hotter.


"Don't worry honey, I'll prove it." She smiled and walked off to get another table of glasses that a group had just left.


Atropa's nights at work were usually dull, filled with endless flirting and idiotic giggling to get good tips and sometimes a nice place to stay, or a sugar daddy for a while.


All her sugar daddies ended up leaving her when their wives found out, but she never cared. By that time, she'd worked them enough to get at least a closet full of new designer clothes, and at least one new piece of jewelry.


Sometimes, they even paid her rent. The only reason she stayed in the shitty apartment she lived in was because when she had no sugar daddy, she had to pay rent on her own, and it was cheap at her current apartment.


When her shift was finally over, she met Oscar up front and he escorted her outside. The air was a bit cold, but it was refreshing after being in the hot smoky bar, which always made Atropa feel as if she needed five hundred showers.


Daylight was just beginning to show in the sky, turning it a pale blue color. The sun would be coming up soon, and it was always beautiful.


Atropa followed Oscar, her boots clacking loudly in the empty street. Smirking, she shrugged. "Well, my place ain't no palace, but it's mine, and it's only a small walk from here." She told him, wondering if it was actually safe to be doing so.


In the end, she didn't really care though. She'd invited plenty of guys over to her apartment.


Rolling her eyes, Atropa grinned and stretched her arms up, pointing to the sky. "I like watching the stars, speaking to the Heavens, and spinning as fast as I can. If you spin fast enough while looking up, you almost feel high." She told him, putting her hands back down and reaching into her purse, licking her lips.


"But since I know most people don't think that's a very fun type of high, I have some of this." She pulled out a bag with a few tablets of molly, she'd been saving them or a special occasion.


"Interested?" She asked him, grinning wickedly.

 

[ColdHarem]

Thank god she'd chosen her place. Shifting to walk so that he was doing so beside her, he listened to her as she stretched skywards and ran her mouth like she was stoned already, making him suspect she'd already started her fun without him. Her words made some sense to him, in a surreal, dreamy kind of way, but he was coming down from the buzz of alcohol and coke too hard to join in, bitter cynicism threatening to cut in at any moment. Fortunately, she soon pulled out a bag with a little more promise, and upon further inspection, Oscar said, "Is that-?" Before smiling, having spotted the markings on the side and yep. This girl was officially the best part of the night.


"Very. I am at your command," Oscar said with an off-kilter smile, looking over from the E to Atropa. Free drugs were always the best part of any night, and when they were handed out by beautiful, slightly kooky women, well, that just made it all the better. "What am I going to have to do to earn this level of fun?" He mused, always cautious of attached strings, because this girl looked the kind to come with knives. "Be your slave for a whole day? Or return the favour?" Jessica had fortunately left him with the coke, more by accident than on purpose, but she'd been so smashed that she'd never remember that fact, or that they hadn't finished the coke.


When they arrived at her apartment Oscar followed her in, turning on his heels as he stepped in and whistling quietly. Sure, it was a dump, but by his standards it might as well have been a palace. As far as he could tell, there were no holes in the ceiling, no infestations of cute furry rodents, and nothing was obviously rotting. It was far from what he'd grown up with, but his tastes and standards had changed with his circumstance. "Nice place," he said quietly, without sarcasm. Perfectly chilled to make himself at home, he found something to sit on, and then retrieved the bag of coke from his coat pocket, dropping it down on an available surface. "What's mine is yours," he said, happily neglecting to mention that what was his was Jess's, and yet was still the extent of what he 'owned'. It would seem rude to ruin Atropa's night by troubling her with his shit, especially when she had molly at hand.

 

[Artificial Sugar]

Atropa often wished that people would care more about what she had to say, and less about what she could give them, but really, she knew that she couldn't expect that from a druggie.


Smiling at his surprised question, she nodded, glad he knew what it was.


Oscar was smiling at her in a way that normally made her feel dirty, but his smile made her feel.. Good. She enjoyed it, and it was a weird and very new feeling for her.


"Well, if you've got something, I wouldn't mind if you returned the favor." She replied, smiling slightly. A drug trade off. Interesting.


"I also have some harder stuff, don't know if you're into it, but I thought I'd at least offer." She told him, slipping the Molly back in her purse for safe keeping.


They'd almost reached her apartment now, and if he agreed to something harder, she could call up her dealer and get some more Meth.


Hopefully, he would.


A few minutes later, they reached her apartment, and Oscar let out a low whistle. It was crappy, yeah, but Atropa didn't really care. She kept it clean, since her OCD was constantly in overdrive when she was high, and it was decent enough.


"Thanks. I know it's not like, a mansion, or anything, but it's clean and warm." Atropa smiled at him and took a seat on the couch, removing her boots and sighing in relief.


"Oh, well, this is a surprise." She replied, looking down at the baggie on the table. "Never done coke before." She told him honestly. It had never come up in her time with druggies. She usually stuck to the meth heads or the young kids on Molly. Coke was new and interesting, and she was excited to try it.


"Does it fucking hurt?" She asked, referring to snorting it, making the gesture with her finger and nostril before laughing and grinning eagerly at Oscar.

 

[ColdHarem]

"Harder stuff sounds good," Oscar answered quietly, his voice dreamy as the haze of a good drug promise kicked in. He was willing to try anything once, then try it all again. "What's your usual fix?" He asked, since E wasn't chemically addictive and something about her previous surreal speech as she'd spun, looking up at the sky, gave him the impression she was hooked on something, something that fucked more with your head. Not that he held it against her in the slightest; in the contrary, he considered the weird, disconnected speech of druggies to be the best thing about them as a culture. More truth in all of it.


At her apartment, he grinned as she confessed to being a coke virgin, tapping out a good amount onto the surface of the table. "I'm honoured to get to be the one to corrupt you then," Oscar said with a purposefully wicked smile, playing it up as a joke. He wasn't into taking drugs seriously. Besides, she was a junkie in some area; she'd know the consequences of coke. It never seemed to go completely out of fashion, after all. "Hurt's not the right word. Your brain's too busy popping for you to care about pain. It's like being shocked. But it's great." Using the credit card, he cut it up into two lines, one each, then handed her the card. "Ladies first."


Looking around her apartment, he noted how neat it was. Unusual for a junkie, since most ones he'd met lived and partied like animals. Stoners were the worst. The munchies food got everywhere. And the poor bastards on heroin were too out of it to even notice the mess. So, that ruled out those two drugs for her habit. Whatever it was, he wondered if he'd done it before. E was old territory, a staple item of clubbing, especially when mixed with coke. True, mixing drugs was oh so very much more dangerous than doing any one straight, but that was half the fun.


"You got any music or anything?" He asked, shifting in his seat, restless already without even having snorted the coke. "Coke tends to make you want to move." Or break things. But that would be rude in someone else's apartment.

 

[Artificial Sugar]

Smiling, Atropa pulled out her cell phone and sent a text to Mark, her dealer, letting him know she needed some more.


She'd use the tips she made tonight to buy it, even though she'd planned on buying food with it.


But when she was high, she didn't need food anyway. "I'm a big fan of meth." She told him, grinning.


"I'd much rather be corrupted by a good looking guy anyway." She told him, smiling back.


Nodding at his explanation, she looked down at the white powder on her table, made up in neat lines.


She'd never done it before, but she'd seen people do it.


Nodding, she took the card nervously and leaned down to take the line in, snorting it quickly as she'd seen people do.


It hit her hard, and she felt like her brain was on fire for a moment, although not a bad fire.


Sitting back, she took a breath and handed the credit card back to Oscar, letting the drug hit her.


"I have my iPod on the dock, it's over there." She said, pointing to a black wooden shelf in the corner of the living room.


She never would have been able to afford an iPod on her own, but luckily she had a generous sugar daddy recently who'd been kind enough to buy her a nice one- an iPod touch, the newest gen, and it was her favorite color- pink.