Midnight Mayhem (Eight)

[Cater]

Cater couldn't help but put a palm to her face after she hung up her cell phone. It was almost midnight and she had just finished a series of calls with Eight. Trey had his birthday party and all of the guys somehow wound up drunk. Eight, out of them all, had out drank the others and was pretty much drunk out of his mind. Somehow, through his drunken stupor, he had managed to call her several times tonight and was now bent on paying her a visit in her dorm room. Cater couldn't help but shake her head at everything.

If Carla or Naghi got wind of this, everyone in Class Zero could kiss their reputation goodbye. The school wouldn't approve of drunk teenagers on school grounds. The school would especially be unhappy if they were to find out that it had been their top class, Class Zero, that got drunk. After the calls had stopped, Cater couldn't help but mentally pray that somehow Eight would get there without making much of a commotion. The last thing they needed was for a teacher to wake up and find him. Least of all, they really wouldn't want for Kurasame to find out. If he did, everyone was as good as dead and buried six feet under.

Now, Cater found herself pacing her room worriedly. Where she was worried about the whole school waking up because of a drunk Eight, she did worried about Eight too. He could easily fall down a set of stairs or hurt himself in his condition. Where it had been funny at first to know he had out drank the rest of the guys, it wasn't as funny anymore. At least, not right now. Cater didn't fully grasp just what trouble was headed her way in trying to harbor a drunk Eight in her room. There was no way that she'd be able to get him back to his dorm and hope he'd stay there to sober up. A drunk Jack and Eight wouldn't be a very good combination. There was no telling what mischief those two would get into if they were left to their own devices.

'Just how do I manage to get into this mess?' she thought to herself. Shrugging after a moment, she wandered toward her dresser. In the top drawer, she always hid a small stash of sweets. Rummaging through it, she pulled out a box of pockey. Unwrapping one, she placed it in her mouth and kind of just held it there for a moment as she savored the taste of it. Absentmindedly, she stood there for a few moments as she waited for Eight to appear.

What Cater was going to do with him, she wasn't exactly sure. She would have to try and just keep him out of trouble as much as she could the rest of the night. Something that would probably keep her up the entire night. Cater sighed at that and closed her eyes. 'So much for catching up on some Zs!' she thought to herself. Still, she wasn't going to leave Eight to fend for himself. It wouldn't be right of her to let him wander the halls and get caught. All Class Zero members had to watch each other's backs, after all! Most of all, Cater couldn't bring herself to ignore Eight.

'Hurry up already, Eight!' she thought, wandering over to her dorm room's door. Since he was drunk, there was a possibility that he could potentially bust her door down on mistake if he knocked on it too hard. So, thinking ahead, which wasn't something she did often, Cater opened her door and looked down one end and the other. Still seeing no Eight, she sighed to herself. This was going to be a loooooooong night!

'He owes me big time when he's sober!' she thought with a slight frown.

[Eight]

Just one more. Just one more. Just...one....more....

Eight reached for it. It was so close, yet so far away. The final stair on the staircase that would lead him to Cater. He'd already accomplished so much tonight. Now if he could just...make....the final push. But his legs...they weren't working right. And every time he tried to stay upright, he felt like he was lying back-down in water. But then he couldn't stay leaning with his stomach towards the floor, either, because he felt like a bowling ball might fall out of his front if he did that. But...Cater. He had to get to her dorm so he could celebrate it. Who else was as fun as her without being as ugly as Jack? Not a soul in the world. And Eight...what had he done to merit celebration? Oh! Oh, right, he'd taken in more...aaa- more aaaa- more liquid flame stuff than anyone else in the whole class. Anyone else...who was a guy. And who probably weighed twice as much as Eight himself did. Actually...Eight was glad he didn't weigh that much right now, or this last step would have been insurmountable.

He reached forward with his hand and planted it firmly on the floor. Okay, good start. Then he tried moving his left leg...but moved his right one instead. Stupid brain, left and right... Eight got the leg right with his next attempt and propped it up on the next to last step to brace himself. Then the other arm came up to cling to the floor, as well. By this point, Eight was thinking about just how nice and cool the floor felt against his face. But he couldn't let himself give in to such small pleasures. He had called Cater so many times...and now he was going to fulfill his promise and come celebrate his victory with her despite what Kurasame or Mother or the cafeteria lady or anyone would do if they caught him roaming the school drunk at this hour. Now if he could just...get...the right leg going... Eight yanked on himself as hard as he could and managed to get his right leg underneath him, pushing himself up and onto the final step that led to his destiny. And finally, he'd made it. He stopped for a rest before he attempted to stand, suddenly noticing how nice the ceiling looked from this angle.

It took Eight two full minutes to recover and get to his feet, at which point he promptly fell against the wall. Oh yeah, he was rolling now. Eight scaled his way along the wall, moving along and looking at the room numbers until he found the right one. He opened the door, finding that it was...a storage room. For a moment, Eight tried to remember if Cater actually slept in the storage room, before he took note of the room number again. Oh. That was a...six. Not a...nine. Eight shook his head and mumbled something that was even incoherent to him, before advancing on along the wall until he got to the room with the big niiiiiiiine on it. He was glad he didn't have to see Nine right now, and instead, he got to see Cater. Four was not divisible by nine, either. Or something. Math made Eight nauseated.

Finally, the door. Eight propped himself up strongly against it and knocked a couple of times, chuckling to himself at how fantastic of a celebration this was going to be. Eight, the...liquid fire champion, with a pretty girl at his side. Could this night have had the potential to be any better?

Only if Eight could see straight. Then Cater being pretty might have been even better. "Cateeeeeer."

Words - 674
Muse - Excellent!
Outfit - Disheveled summer uniform
Notes - This is odd. XD[/size]

[Cater]

After a while, Cater figured it would be yet another hour before Eight reached her room. Maybe he had gotten lost on the way? Cater couldn't help but worry a little as to where the brown haired martial artist had gone to. Still, she couldn't just keep standing outside of her room unless she were unfortunate to draw someone else's attention such as Carla's. Making sure no one was coming, including Eight, she went back into her room and closed the door.

Plopping herself into one of the bean bag chairs she had, Cater crossed one leg over the other and waited. Hopefully, nothing would happen to him. If he took an hour to get here with no show, she would go looking for him. All this waiting though was making her antsy. Just what trouble was he getting himself into? Carla would have a field day with the information of one of the Class Zero guys getting himself drunk. As for the others, Cater couldn't help but wonder just how hammered they were. Eight, no doubt, was the most hammered considering he consumed the most.

'At least it's the weekend!'she thought to herself with a sigh. Leaning back into her bean bag chair, Cater stared up at the ceiling as she waited. Eight was drunk out of his mind and there was no telling what mayhem might occur but she still brought out some stuff to appease him. He wanted a party so she had brought out a few things that were party like, at the very least. He was drunk but there was no reason to make him unhappy.

It wasn't until a good while after when Eight finally made it to her door. Hearing a knock, Cater lifted her head and looked over at the door. Was it him or was it someone else? Slowly, she got up. When she did, she heard her name being called and already knew who was on the other side of her door even if she couldn't see him. Heading for the door, Cater wondered how this was going to turn out. Initially, she wouldn't let a drunk person into her dorm room but Eight was also a Class Zero member and family. They helped one another when one of them was in a bind.

Hopefully, they wouldn't wake anyone up. It was bad enough that Eight was drunk and she was smuggling him into her room until he'd recover from it. Whenever he was sober, she might have the right mind to let him know her two cents about this situation. Until then, she would help him out even if it may be difficult depending on how Eight was.

Making it to her door, Cater didn't even think to peer out at him with the peephole she had to look out. Every dorm room had one but no one could look in with those,just out into the hallway. Turning the doorknob, she pulled the door open not even realizing that Eight had been leaning heavily on her door just then. Even worse, she was in the way so if he fell, she was going to be a Cater pancake.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, managing to say that before whatever happened, happened.

[Eight]

The seeing straight thing wasn't getting any better as Eight waited at the doorway. For reasons he himself could not understand, he kept missing his pocket when he reached for it to try and pull out his...cell....phone and see if it had done any buzzing and he'd missed it, because everything about him was buzzing right now. After a few failed tries, he gave up and continued his leaning against the door, managing now to hear some light footsteps that sounded closer than they were due to the apparent echo in his head. Eight popped his head up, expecting to see someone sneaking up on him, but...there wasn't anyone there. Oh. They were coming from the other side of the doorway. Did that mean Cater was coming!? He was going to get to see her face! Well...a blurry outline of it. Still, it would be the best looking blurry outline anyone had ever seen, right? Right. Dreamily, Eight rested his head against the door, wishing his ears didn't feel like they had cotton balls in them so he could hear her better. As he rested his head, though, he wished he didn't have to move at all though. This reclining felt better than trying to stand up straight and go anywhere.

The door handle turned...that would be Cater! Yeeees! Wait...door...handle...Eight was leaning on the door. Before Eight could even process these facts, his stomach did a flip and he started falling in the direction of his leaning body weight. Eight made a step to try and stop himself from falling, but that only carried his momentum forward and sent him crashing headlong into something soft but...limb-y? Like a person. Trying to catch the other person and himself at the same time, Eight only actually managed, despite the balance he'd gained from all his martial arts training, to switch his and the other person's positions in relation to the floor. He fell onto his back, still clinging to the individual who now found herself wrapped up in his arms. Ow...hitting your back against the floor without any arms to catch you really hurt, Eight's mind managed to process before it registered only pain. Eight just groaned and laid his head back against the cool floor again, forgetting to let go of the person whom he'd saved from his falling on them. Whoever it was...smelled really good...so good Eight was almost nauseated by inhaling a few too many times. But he wouldn't let them go...mainly because it felt like his back would split in two if he moved any at all. Having temporarily forgotten he was clinging to someone, Eight just stared at the ceiling, wondering why it seemed so far away all of a sudden and speaking out loud. "Ca..ter? Are....you....there somewhere?"

Words - 514
Muse - Excellent!
Notes - Sorry for shortness. D8 [/size]

[Cater]

(OOC: It's fine, that ain't short! XD)

Cater realized a little too late that she should've probably looked through the peephole before opening the door. Since she hadn't, well this is what happened. Opening the door, she did not see it coming. Whatever Eight had been doing, he must've been leaning on the door in some fashion and because of her opening the door, he had lost his balance when the door opened. As if trying to stop himself from falling, he had taken a step but that just worsened his situation.

Cater could only widen her eyes with horror as Eight came flying in her direction. "AH-!" she exclaimed when he had crashed into her, unable to retain his balance. Due to how much momentum he had behind him, Cater couldn't stay on her feet either. Before they both knew it, they were headed for the hard floor and fast. She would've been pancaked on the floor except that Eight had somehow switched their positions as if he just realized what was happening and was trying to stop their descent.

Instead of hitting the hard floor first, Cater ended up landing on Eight instead. This had to be at least be the second time that she had landed on the poor guy. First, with the balcony incident and now this one. How he managed this, she didn't have a clue. Right now, all she knew was that she suddenly had her face buried into him and was being held tightly. Cater's face burned with embarrassment as she realized all this. Recovering from the fall, she could hear Eight's voice. He sounded pained but was still quite drunk. Trying to move, which wasn't easy considering how tightly he was hugging her, she made muffled sounds in response since it was pretty hard to talk through someone right in your face and hard to push up when they had you gripped so tightly.

Finally moving so her face was finally free, Caer took a few moments to breathe. Unintentionally, he had been suffocating her a bit. Once she regained her breath, allowing her face to stop flaring, she tried to turn to look up at him. "I'm right here!" she answered him finally. "Are...Are you okay?" she questioned him. It was a bit hard to breathe with him clinging to her like he was. It was like being stuck in a bear hug...with an actual bear considering how much more physically stronger Eight was compared to her.

"...Eight? C-could you...let me go? I can't breathe!" she finally grunted up at him, finding it difficult to catch her breath now. She had managed some earlier when she managed to get her face out of him but barely enough to continue with his strong arms pressing down around her. Thank god no one was around or this would've been more awkward than it already was. It only just now registered to her what part of him her face had been buried in. She had pretty much gotten a face full of his chest. The realization made her face redden again. Damn it all! It was going away though with her decreasing air supply with her ribcage being constricted, her thoughts turning to when he was going to release her so that she could breathe! Hopefully soon or she might just pass out on him!

[Eight]

Why did eeeeverything have to keep feeling so wrooong? The pain from landing on his back felt wrong. Lying flat on the floor felt wrong. Staring at the ceiling felt wrong. The only thing that even felt remotely right was whatever or whoever he was holding, and he couldn't appreciate that part of his circumstances, either, because his arms started feeling numb, so he had to cling to them ever-tighter. Who was it he had a hold of, anyway? Eight felt like the world would completely flip over if he tried to move his head up any at all. He just needed to stay here the rest of the...the night. It was night, wasn't it? And this was the school. Yeah. Eight wasn't managing to keep all his outside feelings and inside feelings in line all at once. Too much trouble. Made his head hurt...worse. And what was that weird noise and weird feeling in his chest? Wow, the...the stuff he'd been drinking must have been trying to talk to him now. Right! That's what this was about...celebration. Lying here on the floor was a good enough celebration for Eight at the moment...he just wished he had...had....one of those things you put your head on when you slept. A fluffy thing...the person or place or thing he was holding felt kind of fluffy and soft. Maybe they would make a good...sleeping head thing.

Ow. Cater's voice. Right there...somewhere. Eight still hadn't pried his head up off of the floor, but he moved his eyes as far down as he could go, seeing Cater's face right there in front of his before the tilt of his eyes started the headache again and he couldn't hold her gaze. "Caaaa-ter. How you get in...here?", he asked her, forgetting he'd come to her room for a second before he tilted his eyes slightly again and could see all the girly things. He blinked a few times when she asked him if he was okay. "I dunno. I dunno what okay is for being....like I am." It then dawned on him that she was the one he was clinging too. Oh...this was perfect. The celebration had already started! Not able to tell how tightly he was holding to her, Eight managed to move his head down slightly to look at her, giving a very wide grin, letting loose one hiccup as he did so. "This is a good celebra..tion," he informed her, rocking her back and forth lightly until he decided any sort of rocking at all was a completely bad idea. She felt so...nice despite all the other things feeling bad. Now if he could just get back the feeling in his arms...

"Let go?", Eight said, rather sadly, when Cater asked him to do so. She couldn't breathe? Oh...did that mean a good thing or a bad thing? Could she not breathe because he was holding her like this...or because he was holding her like this? Wait...that didn't make any sense. In his confusion, Eight loosened his grip on her, the numbness in his arms going away. Oh...good. That was better anyway. But he didn't want to just let her go! They were celebrating his victory! Pulling her up closer to his head, more lightly this time (or enough so his arms didn't start tingling again), he hugged her around the neck in a rather pathetic display and put his head against her, feeling the same sort of sensation that he'd felt before when he'd thought about the great victory that he'd won against the other, bigger guys. The sensation of tears welling up. "I beat the other guys at something...all sixty feet of them...I beat them... This is why we gotta cele-brate!", he told her, his voice almost breaking slightly. Yeah...he could stay here all night...as long as he didn't...cry...much... "Did I do good, Cater?"

Words - 732
Muse - Excellent!
Notes - The patheticness. << I love writing it. >> And this thread. <<[/size]

[Cater]

(OOC: It really cracks me up lol. Drunk Eight ftw XD)

Cater could feel herself getting a little lightheaded as time passed with Eight clinging on to her for dear life. When she had spoke, she heard his drunken response as to how she got in here. "It's my room!" she retorted. Had the fall confused him or was he that tipsy? No sooner had she been wondering this when his next response to her question of whether he was okay or not came. Yep, he was that tipsy!

"Well, guess your ability to respond means you're somewhat alright." Eight always had a way of bouncing back anyway. Even when she had crash landed on the poor guy from diving off the balcony and knocked them both out, he bounced back with no problem. Although, come morning, he was definitely going to really feel it all.

As if realizing finally that she was there on top of him, being hugged to death pretty much by him, she saw a huge grin on his face. Hiccuping once, he told her that this was a good celebration and began to rock her back and forth on him! Well, if she thought it couldn't get any worse, it just did. If she wasn't so busy turning blue from getting her lungs squeezed out, she would be flaring up on the face again and protesting. Still, he was drunk so it wasn't like he could help the way he was acting. She had to wonder just how much of this he was going to remember come next day. Considering how out of his mind he was right now, probably not too much of it.

When he had finally heard her request to please let her go, since her head was beginning to get very dizzy, she felt him loosen his grip on her. He didn't sound too thrilled about the idea of letting her go but thank the heavens he did! Cater sucked in wind very appreciatively as her head stopped spinning and her lungs screamed with joy. It had caused her to just lay there for a moment to enjoy being able to breathe again before suddenly, she was pulled up to Eight's face more.

"Huh? What're you-?" Cater barely managed before he had wrapped his arms gently about her neck and rested his head against her in a drunken, affectionate way. Once again, and probably for not the last time tonight, Cater's face reddened at that. Even if she could get annoyed with him for being so drunk, she couldn't for very long. Admittedly, what he just did was enough to keep her from nagging at him since it softened her a bit. He couldn't help it at all being so drunk.

As he spoke to her again, Cater noted the breaking in his voice. Blinking down at him, she saw he was crying and was now asking her if he had done good. All sixty feet of them, eh? That would be something if tey were actually all that tall. She couldn't help but lightly giggle at the imagery of how baffled the others looked when Eight beat them all. "Yeah, you did good, Eight!" she replied, bringing a hand up to ruffle his short cut brown hair playfully. She really couldn't bring herself to be annoyed with him for being so tipsy. Now that she thought about it, he was pretty funny...and adorable.

"Now Eight, if you let me go I can go and close the door before Kurasame or Carla sees you like this!" Cater said finally, remembering the now very wide open door. If someone were to happen upon them right now, they'd get ideas and go around spreading it to the entire school. Neither of them would be able to live it down if Carla got wind of this. The blue haired girl would have a field day with this one. In fact, Cater could see it now. If that happened, Cater was pretty certain that she'd actually commit murder that day and her victim would be Carla. The mere thought of the blue haired merchant made her blood boil.

[Eight]

Yes! She thought he did good! It didn't matter what the guys thought...but it had been pretty nice to see them when they'd been beaten...what he could see of them...but the whole time he'd been doing it, he'd been thinking about Cater and what she'd think when he finally got the job done. He hadn't ever...stood out with the other guys. He'd just always been Eight. Just kind of there. And he didn't think that would ever get anyone's attention...and he really didn't think it would get Cater's attention, because she was such an attention-getting person herself. But now...he had his claim to fame! And his claim to Cater...maybe. If nothing else, he could keep clinging to her neck for right now and just enjoy being this close to her, because he didn't get this chance much. Weird...he couldn't get much attention from her when he was normal but when he was like...this...he could just fine. That was a philosophical question that someone without a headache would have to consider, because Eight couldn't do it. Even as nice as it was being here with Cater...he was starting to feel...even more muddled...

What was Cater trying to say? She sounded so fuzzy...like something that was fuzzy and made noise. He picked up some of the names, but they didn't make any sense in relation to what was going on right now. Eight blinked up at her, wishing the yellow, blurry sheen would leave the corners of his eyes. He wanted to be able to look at this girl! "Huh? Carla? No, don' let Carla cele-brate with us," Eight warbled out, letting her go slightly in his confusion as to why she would bring up two horrible people like that. "Kurasame does...not know how to cele-brate. He'd give us...that...work you do at home." The thought of the commander's classes and of Carla's...Carlaness almost made Eight choke on the lump in his throat even more. Literally choke instead of sob-choke. What was that weird thing...going on in his stomach too? He didn't even know. Whyyy did being such a winner have to feel this bad? He'd been feeling on top of the world before he got here, even when he'd had his happy tears.

"My stomach doesn't feel...like it should," he finally admitted to Cater, unaware as to whether she was still there with him or if she'd gotten up to close the door. Eight couldn't much sense anything outside of himself. "Do you have...a better...place...to not feel like the floor feels?" The floor...he was still on the floor, wasn't he...it felt...not good to his back or to the angle it made him take, lying so flat with no give. Victory had a price...didn't it?

Words - 543
Muse - Excellent!
Notes - Sorry it's short. XD[/size]

[Cater]

Cater blinked down at Eight when he stated that they shouldn't have Carla celebrate with them. Okay, not what she meant but at least he was getting some sort of understanding. She had to chuckle a bit when he said that Kurasame didn't know how to celebrate. That had to be true. Their instructor definitely didn't know how to have a good time. He was always a stick in the mud. No doubt, Eight meant that Kurasame would give them homework. Cater highly doubted that. The thing he'd give them would be detentions or worse if he found out Eight was drunk and she was trying to hide him.

When Eight had released her, Cater had wriggled free and climbed back to her feet. She didn't know he remained where she left him as she walked over to the door and closed it. Locking it, she gave a bit of a sigh of relief before hearing Eight's voice coming from the floor again. He was still lying there, claiming his stomach wasn't feeling so good. Oh grand, last thing she needed was getting vomited on. She would have to get him something to settle his stomach and maybe something for the pain he was feeling. Might even help with the pain he may feel whenever he woke up next morning with a hangover. Considering he drank more than most of the other guys, his hangover was going to be one hell of a hangover.

Walking over, looking down at him, she heard him ask her if she had a place better than where how the floor felt. "Well, first of all, let's get you off the floor!" she stated, bending down and grabbing hold of his hands. Gently, she pulled him upwards that way. "Let's get you up and move you to the chair!" she stated, pulling with all her might. It wasn't easy, Eight was heavier than she was. 'If this keeps up, I might just break my back!' she thought, doing her best to try and get him to sit up and hopefully from there, help him get to his feet.

"If we get to the chair, I can get you something to make you feel a bit better!" she stated, trying to coax him into moving more to help her get him up. "Then we can celebrate!" she added.

Once or if she got him off the floor, she'd support him the rest of the way over towards the chair. That didn't mean they'd make it though depending on how off kilter Eight was and whatever his drunken state of mind made him do. Victory for Eight definitely came with a price. Depending on the situation, he might not ever drink again.

[Eight]

Doors..shutting. Footsteps. Openness. Headaches. A hard floor. These were the only things Eight knew as he continued to lay sprawled, though he did know he didn't want to continue to lay sprawled. All he could really do was watch Cater's lower body walking away and then apparently walking back towards him, because raising his head wasn't going to be something he wanted to do. No, he wanted to lie mostly still until the...bad feeling in his stomach subsided for a while. It felt like if he moved he was going to be the pinata at this celebration. Ugh...he shouldn't have thought about pinatas. Candy...remembering candy made it all worse...

But Cater was still here and she was going to save him from the floor! Or, at least, that's what he thought she said. He didn't really want to react all that much, what with the...feeling sick and all. But what she did made him react. Eight figured the only thing that kept him from becoming the pinata was the thought of holding hands with Cater. Yeah...this was celebration. As she sat him up, Eight heard her say something about a...chair. Chairs were good. He wished he had one here on the floor so he wouldn't feel like he was falling backwards. He continued to cling to Cater's hands, wishing he could speak but concentrating too hard on trying not to explode to do more than one or two things at once. Oh crap...now came the part where he had to get up and try to do that walking thing again. Though he gave a miserable face, Eight gave a little push against himself - a pretty darn weak one - to help Cater get him off the floor. It was a slow process, and a step that made his ankle almost roll almost ended all their progress...but Eight got up.

And proceeded to almost go down again when he raised his head up even the slightest bit. It was a really, really good thing Cater had been there and Eight hadn't stumbled into her with his full weight...because he was starting to wonder why his arms had stopped working along with his legs. He got the legs to go in front of him, but planting them properly was going to be a problem. Why were they going anywhere anyway? Oh, yeah...chair. Feeling better. Celebration. Those were words that kept Eight going wherever Cater wanted to direct him though he couldn't bring his head up. A step here. A step there. Eight wondered who'd put the bricks in his boots. Must have been Nine. That bastard was jealous of his drinking talents! He hoped the big ol' dragoon was going through this same...stuff. If he wasn't, Eight hated him.

What was that!? A chair!? Finally! Finally! Suddenly forgetting how to properly sit down in a chair, Eight missed and landed on the armrest first before he got himself moved over with Cater's help, and just slumped into the seat with his head against his check. Now he...wanted the feeling better part...before the chair had a bad experience.

Words - 564
Muse - Great!
Notes - Figure a guy can't talk too much while at the point of throwing up all over the room. >> <<[/size]

[Cater]

Getting Eight to stand back up was a chore. Yet, through all her effort, she managed to get him to stand up somehow. Now,supporting him the rest of the way was the next step. Eight didn't really seem to remember how to walk right now. Thankfully, he didn't lean his entire weight on her or this could've ended a lot worse. In fact, they probably would have ended up right back at where they started. "Come on, Eight. Just a little more!" she urged him, trying to do her best to support him the entire way. Celebration? She wasn't so sure if that's much of what they were going to be doing here considering how far gone Eight was. Then again, he could always manage to surprise her by doing something she least expected.

Finally making it over to the chair, Cater was just as happy as Eight was. Okay, maybe not that happy but she was relieved to see they had finally made it. Eight's limbs just didn't want to cooperate with him or her when they walked over to here. In fact, his ankle almost rolled. If that happened, that wouldn't have ended well. How would she explain he sprained how he sprained his ankle? That wouldn't be an easy thing to explain and Cater was no genius when it came to helping someone with a sprain. The least she could do was put ice on it and wrap it up with something. Thankfully, that hadn't happened and they made it to the chair.

Eight, in his relief, had plopped himself towards it but hadn't made it into the actual seat portion of the chair. In fact, he had placed his rump on the arm rest instead. "Scoot this way a bit!"she told him, moving him towards the side where it brought him completely onto the seat part of the chair. Now that he was seated, Cater wondered what to do from here. Well, if he was well enough, she could at least humor him with his idea of celebrating.

"So, Eight, feeling okay?" she questioned him. As a just in case, she had located her trash can in case Eight decided to vomit. With how much alcohol running through his system, there might come a point in time during this charade that he'll have to puke. Hopefully, it wouldn't end up all over her. As she said it, she had picked up the party hat she had found and plopped it onto his head with a slight smirk.

"Here's your hat!" she mused. Now, what the heck to do? She knew she couldn't let him get too loud or the dorm neighbors would complain. It would be a bust if Kurasame or a teacher discovered what was going on. Tonight was going to be a very long night for Cater. "So, what did you wanna do first?" she questioned Eight.

[Eight]

"I...don' think sss-"

Eight tried to respond to Cater's question about how he felt. He really did. But opening his mouth - actually, making any motion at all - made him feel like he was going to explode from his nausea. All he could get out were a few words at a time before he had to call it quits, and then just stare off into the distance or at Cater's face. Looking at her face helped a little, it did. It was the only thing that did. Otherwise, Eight was just resigned to his misery. Mother and the commander had always said winning came at a cost. Eight was starting to think that cost was the loss of his last meal. Why had he wanted to beat all of the other guys? What did it earn hi- oh yeah, this celebration with Cater. But...he wasn't getting to celebrate very much because he felt like any sudden movements would either end in his death or something else terrible, like soiled shoes. So he'd done what he did to celebrate but what he did had wiped him out so much that he couldn't celebrate. Wow...that would have been a really great discovery if it had made Eight feel less like he was a goner.

He barely even realized Cater was getting close to him again and putting a hat on his head. If he had, he probably would have reached out and tried to hug her again...if he could have managed to do so at all. Instead, though, he just studied her face as she stepped back from him and tried to wonder what the strange hat on his head was about. Normally, he could have just reached up and felt of it. Now, it was just there, and it would remain just there until he didn't feel terrible. So...yeah. Celebration. It was really going as well as Eight had expected it would...not really.

What did he want to do? Was that what she asked him? Well, that...that was actually a really good question. Eight wasn't going to let this night go by without some celebration - he was too stubborn for that - but he knew he wasn't going to be able to celebrate to the extend he'd wanted to at first...which had mostly involved dancing around with Cater in joy or something, he couldn't remember now. Now what sounded good was...as little movement as possible, but still something happy and something that would take his mind off of his misery. He looked up at her for a few seconds before his eyes moved around to the rest of the room. Wait...the TV. That might work. "Movie..", he said, quietly, before he tried fighting past the nausea. "We could watch a movie."

Words - 510
Muse - Excellent!
Notes - This thread is too epic. XD[/size]

[Cater]

(It totally is XDD)

Cater wasn't sure what Eight was trying to tell her. He had cut himself short before he could finish his sentence. She wished she could help him more but there was no chance of that. If she tried getting something to settle his stomach, he'd probably just vomit it all back up. He would have to get that out of his system on his own or his body somehow figured out how to cope. Chances are, he probably wasn't going to for a while so she had that bucket next to him just in case. Poor Eight really appeared green to her, figuratively speaking that is.

Once she had plopped the party hat on his head, she wondered why he wasn't really reacting to it. In fact, if she could describe his expression, it looked as though he were a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Eight wasn't really sure what to do except stare at her. She refrained from waving a hand in front of his face to ask him if he could return to the earth.

As her question about what they should do next seemed to register in Eight's mind, she was mildly surprised to hear him mention a movie. Maybe he wasn't feeling well enough to move around? Well, if that was the case, she'd abide by it but what movie was there to watch? What of her movies would he want to see? "Alright, sounds good!" she turned towards where she kept a tiny stash located in the tiny stand for the tv.

"I've got loads. What kind did you want to see?" she asked him, listing a number of movies and genres. Poor Eight, he probably won't even hear half of them.

"How 'bout one of these?" she questioned him, picking up a few and showing them to Eight as she walked over to him. Cater didn't realize her energy might have the potential of making Eight more sick than he was.

(OOC: Short but funny XD Poor Eight.)

[Eight]

For a few short seconds, Eight was so distracted by trying to remember the name of a movie he used to like that was soothing all the while dealing with how horrible he felt, and he had to look at Cater and wonder what she was saying sounded good before he noticed her moving over towards the TV. Oh, movie sounded good. Actually, nothing sounded good to Eight at the moment since he felt a pang of nausea every time he thought about doing anything. So he decided not to think, just watching her apparently searching through her movies and saying something that his brain took a few seconds to process. Oh...what movie did he want to see? "Something..." What was the word he was looking for? Agh, he needed to think of it fast before the nausea started taking over again... "...that...I'll watch hard enough...to keep my mind off how I-" He stopped short since he was starting to feel like he'd explode again. All he could really do was motion to his stomach and chest with a hand. Hopefully that would mean "I'm about to throw up all over the floor" to Cater, too.

She started listing, but Eight only heard a few of the names. Some of those were...good. They weren't the one he'd been thinking of before, but they would do good enough to keep him distracted. Eight almost wished she'd just pick one and put it in, but after a few seconds she came over and put a few of them in his face. His eyesight was all kinds of fuzzy, both because of his tears earlier and the remaining effects of the alcohol, so he had to judge what they were by the pictures on the box. Finally, Eight brought his hand up again and pointed at one that he thought had a guy with a yellow hat on it. Yep, that was definitely a yellow hat. Or a bana- actually, it wasn't good to think about bananas right now...

"Watching a movie together...it's good enough of a celebration...", Eight added to his decision, wishing he could have actually felt good enough to have the celebration he'd wanted before. Maybe tomorrow? No...maybe next week. Or next month. Squinting his eyes shut, he held to his stomach and shifted slightly, trying to get up out of his chair so he could sit on the floor in front of the TV...or lie there...or something. He wasn't having his night ruined by a bunch of nausea!

Words - 471
Muse - Excellent.
Notes - [/size]

[Cater]

Cater looked back at Eight as she waited for him to answer her. Judging by the slight greenish tinge on his face, it was clear to Cater that he must've been feeling really sick right about now. Her blue eyes turned to where she had the bucket nearby. Did she need to grab it and hand it to him already? As she looked back over at him, hearing him make an attempt at speaking, she listened. He wanted something to watch that would keep him distracted enough from how he was. She didn't need for him to show just how unwell he felt by gesturing at his stomach and chest.

"Alright, I can grab something then and let you decide." She grabbed the bucket and brought it over to Eight, placing it gently on the arm rest next to where he sat. "If you feel like up chucking, you can in that!"she told him, uncertain if he'd even manage to grab the bucket and vomit in there instead of all over her or the floor. In a twisted way, Eight would be getting revenge on her for the time she had accidentally crash landed on him from the balcony she had jumped off of.

Rummaging through her movie stash, she had managed to find a good few and had presented them to Eight. Since he was the guest, he had the right to choose. As she watched him squint at the movies, she wondered how badly his eyesight was effected by the alcohol. Maybe presenting these was a bad idea? Oh well, it seemed like he didn't mind all that much. Eventually, he picked one out and as fate would have it, the dude that looked like he had some kind of yellow hat did have a hat. The hat though turned out to be a banana hat. Poor Eight, it might just make him puke but neither of them knew this right now.

"Alrighty, good choice!" she told him, heading over to the TV and opening the box to pull out the movie and plop it into the device they used to watch movies with. As she turned the TV on, she could hear Eight attempting to get up. Pressing play, she turned to him as she heard him speak. The nausea was definitely talking there. If she could, she would've given him something to help his stomach but with alcohol, you needed to get that out of your system instead of trying to keep it down. She wasn't sure just how much he had consumed but it had to be a lot for him to be off his rocker. It would do him good to just puke it out rather than keeping it down.

"You're right, this'll be fun!" Cater replied before plopping herself down on the floor before the TV. If he wanted, she could get him something to drink or eat but she didn't think right now that he'd be wanting to. He looked green as it already was. Already, she was eying the bucket she had put next to him, wondering if she should grab it in case he didn't bring it over with him.