i don't do sadness not even a little bit.
I SHOULD BE SOME KIND OF LAUNDRY LINE. HANG THEIR THINGS ON
me and I could swing them dry. you just wave in the sun in the afternoon, and then
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The smoke swirled up in loose, wispy spirals, slowly dissipating as it reached the ceiling. It had formed a soft sort of haze in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron, which was almost entirely empty, save for a shady looking wizard giving her rather dirty looks. She winked at him for kicks. He seemed to like that. Tosser. A slim hand held the spliff that had created her thick retreat, its end glowing softly, comfortably. She was lost in a euphoric daze of the night’s events, her brain sufficiently numbed, and her thought process almost non-existent. She wasn’t entirely sure how many pills she’d popped or alcohol she’d downed, but it was enough to knock her out for an hour or so before she’d woken up slumped over in a dirty alleyway. Not that this was something unfamiliar to her. Actually, it was quite mild. She blew out another trail of smoke, then used her tongue to create perfect rings with the last bit. A trick she’d learned while in France. She’d learned many things there actually, most of them too X rated to bother with now. Not that she really cared. She didn’t care much about anything. Attempting to stay conscious from last night was taking up her entire concentration at the moment. Not that she had much concentration to spare.

She took another slow drag.

London was a shithole. At two in the morning it was a dirty, empty city, and it really hadn’t improved much by eight. Which it was right now. Of course most normal people weren’t up yet, but that was usually when all the fun happened anyways. Everything was so damn cheery it pissed her off. Diagon Alley hadn’t changed one bit since she’d been gone. Lots of twinkley lights and enchanted holiday decorations. Fan-fucking-tastic. Really. The underground had changed since she’d been gone. The familiar faces and dealers were no longer at their usual haunts. The music was different. Nobody knew who she was. She’d been gone a lot longer than she’d initially realized. Not that it mattered. Nobody missed her. Nobody ever missed Briony Crosse. She was the ultimate ghost.

Her thick black boots scuffed the floor as she swung them back and forth, not really caring much. She didn’t really have anywhere to go. Home was out of the question. Going home meant . . . a lot of crap she didn’t want to deal with. But she didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Her mother was already pissed at her, Beauxbatons had kicked her out, she couldn’t reach Luke, and Amelie was annoying as hell. She ran a hand through her thick blonde hair, now a bit stringy from the night before. Her eyes were lined with thick black makeup, now rather smudged. She watched passively as another customer came through the door.

It was her cue to leave.

She wasn’t sure where she was going, not that it mattered. She’d go wherever she felt like, she always did. As she rose from the booth, her very sheer black tank dress tumbled down a bit, though it really didn’t cover much. Her black lacy bra showed through under the layers of jewelry she was wearing around her neck. A pair of tights concealed what she was wearing on her lower half, though the tights were easy to see through the dress as well. Her clothes were extremely wrinkled, but Bee didn’t give a damn. She didn’t need to impress anyone. She’d done enough impressing last night. Then again, she wasn’t entirely sure what she did last night. She’d called her cell from a payphone and had gotten a recording from a male that had crooned, “Hi, this is Bee’s phone, she’s currently cruising at 3500 feet, and there is definitely turbulence ahead.” That had been new.

Bee made her way out of the pub, spliff still in hand, floating as if in a dream. She was just on her way out when she collided with another body, sending her spliff tumbling out of her hands. Her reaction time was incredibly off due to the night’s consumption. “Shit.” She muttered softly, not loud enough for the person she collided with to hear.

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LOCATION: the leaky cauldron
TEMPLATE CREDIT TO: me
BANNER CREDIT TO: me
WORD COUNT: who cares
LOOKING LIKE: last night
NOTES: hope it's okay kae, breaking in a new character is a bit rough, of course :]