Hot Drunk Mess

Posted on Saturday February 16th, 2019 @ 11:36 hours by Ares Onasis

Mission: Pixie Dust
Location: Ares's Quarters
Timeline: MD02 - 0130 Hours
649 words - 1.3 OF Standard Post Measure

Jesus H. Christ.

What the hell did she get herself into?

Ares couldn’t blame the alcohol. She tried to, but deep down she knew that wasn’t the case. She prided herself on hiding her emotions and keeping them in check, but she wasn’t unemotional. Her whole world, the one she had tried to build for herself in the past year, had just crumbled around her. Mayterial had made a direct, and rather brutal, observation about her lifestyle, sending Ares into a rage and the back of her hand against the Captain’s cheek. The Captain had only spoken of the truth and Ares’s ego had been bruised by it. Drunk or not, Ares more than likely would have back-handed her for the comment anyway.

It was all a matter of pride.

If someone said something ill-favored about her, she was going to make them pay for it. No one messed with Ares, both literally and figuratively.

Even if the other person was right. And, boy, was Mayterial right.

Mayterial even let her stay and continue to drink with her. She’d be fine… right? Mayterial wasn’t mad at her… right? Ares always could read people and figure out their motives. Their motives were usually bad due to the company she normally kept. But right now, she wasn’t so sure about this one. The Captain walked a fine line between good and bad… which one was she?

Which one was Ares?

In her drunken stupor, Ares paced back and forth in her rather small quarters. She was making tight circles, causing mind to spin even more when she paused to steady herself. She had to fight every urge to not go see Colt. She was nowhere near the right mental capacity to risk even seeing the man. She shocked herself for having the ability to hold herself back right now. Mayterial must’ve already had a positive influence on her. Ares didn’t want to be sent out of the nearest airlock for another wrong move.

She rubbed her hands over her face, trying to sober herself up as quickly as possible but instead smudged the jet black eyeliner that lined her brown eyes. She looked like a raccoon. She was a drunken raccoon. She had been dumpster diving for food, was taken in and given a job and a bed and access to food, and she decided to be an idiot and bite the hand that fed her.

Ares had officially lost her mind.

Looking down at her fingertips covered in black, she was reminded how big of a mess her entire life had been. She had never had it easy but that never stopped the woman from conquering every hardship that was thrown her way. She was named after the Greek God of War. Was it a premonition by her parents or was she a self-fulfilling prophecy?

She needed to sleep. But she knew damn well she wouldn’t be able to. All she could do was stare at her fingers as they shook with the adrenaline pumping throughout her body, the adrenaline caused by the heartbreak and the pain and the fear that clouded her judgement. In a brief panic Ares grabbed the PADD from her desk that contained the electronic copies books she had purchased legally, one of the few items in her possession that she actually paid for, but the brandy in her system was blurring her vision and she was seeing double. In a brief fit she tossed the PADD onto her bed and let out a grunt and dropped onto her mattress.

It was no use. She had gotten herself into quite a number of messes but this was the first time she had no clue how to get herself out of it.

She had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time it would happen.