Log: Betsy, Amanda & Sarah

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Betsy returns to Snow Valley from her late night excursions in the city. Luckily, it's Amanda and Sarah to the rescue.



Hands heavy, gripping tightly to the handle, long legs stumbled out of the car.

"Hey, purple girl," a man with a thick Pakastani accent called out. Betsy pivoted with an uncoordinated fling of her arms. "Your change."

She took the money graciously from him, shoved it down her purse, and with a 'ah ha' pulled out her set of keys. The cab driver shook his head at her with disgusted tip of his lips. "Fucking drunk."

Betsy turned a haughty and peeved glare at the driver but the look lost all its power as she tripped up onto the sidewalk. She heard the car pull off from the gutter and sat up, gagging at the stench coming from under the sewer grate. The coughing fit subsided and Betsy crawled up the steps to the brownstone and fumbled with her keys. Her hands were shaking, making it harder for her to open the door but she finally managed. With a merciful creak, the door swung wide and Betsy tumbled within.

Two steps and she collapsed onto the floor. Betsy groaned. Her brain still felt as if were being jammed hotly with pokers cradled in her skull. She gratefully slammed the door behind her, willing the world to disappear and now, if only this bottle of gin would open itself. She'd be golden.

Amanda hummed under her breath as she strolled back from the mini-mart, cigarette hanging from her lips. Ah, delicious nicotine - she'd run out, necessitating the late-night trip to the 24-hour place. She'd be good for a while now, whilst she went through the books again, trying to find a connection between the places she felt power. Unlocking the heavy front door, she pushed it open, frowning a little as it struck something. Maybe the door mat had rucked up again...

"Oof," shoved onto the floor, again, Betsy gave up and just laid there. The bottle of gin cradled in her arms like a newborn and her hair matted across her face, Betsy sighed heavily. "Don't mind me," she said into the floor, face planted firmly against it. "I'm just biding my time until the trolley comes back and takes me back to my room."

"Shit, Betsy?" Amanda squeezed in through the door, moving to crouch beside the purple-haired telepath. The reek of gin rose from her very pores, and Amanda wrinkled her nose a little. "Fucking hell, Betts, you don't need a trolley, you are trolleyed. Talk about leaping off the wagon." She reached out and took Betsy's shoulders, intending to help pull her upright. And after that work out how the hell to get her to her room - the foyer was no place for this.

"Wrong! This bottle here hasn't been touched. See!" Betsy pointed to the lid. "The topper's still on." Betsy rested her head down into the crook of Amanda's neck and laughed mischieviously into it. "Though," she raised her right hand, the one holding onto the gin. "The other bottle, now that one is completely gone." She waved her hand through the air as she spoke, treating the bottle as if it were a conductor's baton. "Pity you weren't there. You probably fancied yourself a drink after all that."

Amanda reared back slightly as the bottle threatened to connect with her nose. "Yeah, 'cause you make a habit of sleepin' in the foyer," she muttered, sliding her arm under Betsy's arm and around her shoulders, supporting her weight. "After all what? I'm good, no need for making myself catatonic lately."

"What? Oh, right." Betsy's face scrunched up, her eyebrows furrowed with the look of abject concentration. As if focusing on it caused her pain, Betsy shook her head and managed a forced but light "nevermind" and then it was all the carefree feelings of being led away. "Oh god, I've missed this." Walking not in an absolute straight line and trying to juggle the bottle, her purse, and still not manage to fall flat on her arse. Betsy started giggling. "Why did I give it up? I mean, really. It feels absolutely fantastic!"

"You wouldn't think a former bloody model would weigh half a bloody tonne," Amanda grunted as she hauled Betsy up and supported her weight as they wove their way towards the elevator. "It might feel fantastic now," she continued in a louder tone. "But you wait until tomorrow morning. Talk about the sky fallin' on your head."

"It won't come as close to having your brain matter burned from the inside out." Betsy countered, sounding dejected. "Or finding out the man you've been shagging has been in the closest about his multi-personality disorder. Mind you, not like it would come up in normal conversation but perhaps I should've suspected something the moment he wanted to be known as 'Jim' and reinforced it with his adamant no-questions policy, if that wasn't a resounding sign of wrong, wrong, WRONG!" Betsy cried out, a pained-filled whine escaping her lips as she pulled herself out of Amanda's grip and went for the stairs. She climbed the first few steps before falling to her knees, holding onto the banister. She started laughing again, this time, tears falling freely down her face. "I was completely and utterly taken and that makes me a complete and utter fool."

She wiped hastily at her face, sniffling loudly, and turned to Amanda looking terribly lost. "Ah, I've seemed to have dropped my bottle. Could you be a dear and fetch it for me? After a moment, Betsy started to crawl back downstairs. "I was hoping to forget the last six months but I'd really be satisfied if I can wipe the last few weeks from memory."

Mentally reeling from the sudden shift, Amanda bent and picked up the bottle where it lay on the floor, mercifully unshattered - cleaning up spilt gin and broken glass wasn't what she had planned to do tonight. Then again, she hadn't planned on an emotionally-distraught Betsy either. "I'd give you the whole "the world is full of bastards" talk, but somehow I don't think that'll work tonight," she replied, keeping her tone soothing and with just a hint of sympathetic humour - she'd gotten a lot of practice at this whole consoling people after a breakup thing these past few months. "So, let's settle for getting you upstairs and into bed, yeah? You can pass out and the whole bloody world can go away for a bit." Reaching Betsy, she held out her hand. "C'mon, Betsy, the crawling thing is really sad. Let me help you, yeah?"

"Sorry," Betsy said, acquiescing and getting up rather awkwardly. Her hands knotted against the banister for support. "I just..." She started then stopped when the words wouldn't come. Instead, she shook her head and said, "I'm really tired. You're right. I should head to my room and shake the slough off me."

"If people keep saying I'm right, I'm going to start believing them." Amanda slipped a hand under Betsy's upper arm, holding her up. The bottle of gin she left unobtrusively at the base of the stairs - Betsy didn't need any more of that stuff and she'd come back and grab it later. But her face and tone were sympathetic when she added: "Sleep'll help. And I'll stop by in the morning to check on you."

Footsteps were heard on the stairs above them and Amanda glanced up, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw it was Sarah. Perfect -non-judgemental and she knew Betsy. "Give us a hand?" she asked.

Sarah's eyes might have widened just a little when she saw Amanda with Betsy. "Jesus fuck. Betsy?" She hurried over to them, fluidly tucking herself under Betsy and shifting the weight onto herself. "I've got you."

"But who's got the Gin?" Betsy said, turning around and looking for the missing bottle. "I had it here just a moment ago." She moved her head, as hands grabbed for her and came face to face with Sarah. "Hello, poppet," Betsy gave her a silly grin as she stared intently into her eyes. "I seem to be missing my Ginny and this one over here," she motioned to Amanda. "Hasn't been much help. Have you seen it?"

"I finished the bottle Betsy, I didn't know it was yours." Sarah added a couple of mental pictures of drinking the gin to her lie, hoping that Betsy was too far gone to see through it. "I'll get you another one later." She gave Betsy a mournful look. "Can you forgive me?"

"You," the telepath said with a lopsided grin toward Sarah. "Anything."

Amanda hid a grin. "No Ginny here. No Harry neither," she muttered. Glancing over at Sarah, she exchanged what she hoped was a meaningful look with Sarah. "Can you get her to her room? I'll go ahead, open the place up." And truth be told, Sarah was probably a better choice here.

"See what I mean," Betsy said with drunken fury, as Amanda shifted her weight to Sarah and took off. "No help what so ever. I hate to think what would happen were I really in trouble!" But the young witch was already out of sight and Betsy huffed irritably, the fringes of her hair moving upward with each breath. "I really should go to bed but I don't remember exactly where that is, do you?"

"Surprisingly enough, I do." Wobbling slightly as Betsy wriggled and stumbled on beside her, Sarah stopped to regain her balance. "Just take it easy, yeah? We're not running the three-legged race here."

"Right, right," Betsy stopped in her tracks and bent down lopsidedly, looking directly at their legs. "Just checking." With a grin, she pulled herself back up, placing most of her weight on Sarah and giggled hysterically as they made their way up the stairs. The two stopped at the top, catching sight of Amanda standing by one open doorway, Betsy forcibly stopped laughing but snorted a few times as they approached her.

"Madam, your chamber awaits," Amanda said, formalizing her accent to the point it resembled Betsy's. "Plus a fucking big glass of water and some aspirin - not that'll help much, but any port in a drunken storm, eh?"

Betsy gagged against the feel of two pills sliding down her throat, then felt the glass of water on her lips. She eagerly drank from it, threads of water messily falling down her neck. With the glass empty, Betsy pulled out of Sarah and Amanda's grip and pushed herself toward her bed. Betsy sat down heavily, felt her body give and collapsed against it. Her head hit the pillow with a loud thud. She made a choked off sound before giving one bleary-eyed look to the girls staring at her in confusion.

"I never should have left him," Betsy managed to say before she subsequently passed out.