xp_logs | Cammie & Manny (Early, early morning Nov. 1st)

Cammie runs into ~~SPARTA~~ Manuel after the Hellfire party and words were exchanged. A couple might even be what had to be said.

With Valentia at Amanda's, Manuel had little to worry about concerning the time he walked in the door and it was well into the wee hours of three a.m. that he came up the stairs, worse for the wear. Tonight was full of information gathering and was exhausting in itself. Bare skin prickled against the cool darkness of the hallways and frankly, he couldn't wait to slip into the shower, close his eyes against the tile and just stand there for an hour. All his muscles ached, particularly centered around his hip joint and it throbbed where scars outlined a kiss from a truck. Never mind that he leaned heavily against the banister, sliding up it as he took one step at a time.

There were worse things than having a relapse of judgment.

Cammie hadn't been out on her own. There wasn't much she could do or wanted to do on Halloween. She could dress up like a monster, but there weren't very many ways to have the outside reflect the inside as far as she was concerned And the rest was scaring kids and stealing their candy. Another past time she had outgrown before she had left home She had been the one beating up the candy thieves anyway.

She rounded the corner, on her way back from the kitchen. At the steps she paused, "Oh hey, he lives. Barely, it looks like. Happy Halloween."

The voice took a moment to recognize and generally, the bluring of mixing alcohol had something to do with it. "Happy Halloween," he countered, mocked a raised glass and paused mid way to catch his breath. "I am out of shape," he confessed and awkwardly rounded until he was sitting on the steps or rather, lounged back, looking up instead of down at her.

"Wow an out of shape gladiator. Or is it a Spartan? Those costumes all look the same to me," she said, starting up the steps, making no motion to hide the fact that she was checking him out, "You smell like a kegger. Want some help up the stars or want to lay there for awhile?" she asked, stopping a few steps shy of him. Damn, the costume looked good on him.

"No," he said. "I am fine. I just need a moment--" he waved a dismissive gesture and placed an elbow back, drawing his gaze forward so he could look at her. His vixen, for all she was, a grounding saint with a scorpian's tail for when he was not looking. Oh yes, he always chose his women well.

"I would bow, but I believe I have lost my footing."

"Yeah, and ended up on your ass," Cammie returned, "That must've been some party."

"It was boring," he lied. "Dull, boring, exceptionally mundane...er.. than before." He wasn't entirely sure that made sense but it sounded good. Although he may have used that in the wrong context and slurred in Castillian.

"Okay.... I understood maybe one word of that. How wasted are you?" Cammie asked, tilting her head to one side, "Getting drunk must suck. And not in the fun way that we randomly do."

Manuel inhaled deeply, making an effort to grab the banister, right his cane and pull, though his sway gave any indication to his intoxication. "Shaw cornered me. Grappa, he says," Manuel meant to snort but it came out as a scoff. "More like shit in a bottle."

"Grappa?" Cammie said, ready to catch him if his drunken ass fell over, "And if it was that bad you shouldn't have drunk any of it. Call me crazy, but yeah. I don't really see the appeal."

"With a King, you would be as forgiving as myself, especially under light of being the slave to a Queen." He turned with confidence of a drunk man who thought he was not drunk, but tipsy and began his ascend up the stairs. "Black, white - I am everyone's bitch lately." He laughed, amused and feeling relatively ridiculous in this costume.

"Oooookay. Apparently you've been getting drunk at kinky sex parties. And I'm not even invited, I feel ripped off," she said, stepping up a bit more, "We can get you to your room then I can be your bitch for a bit. That'll make it all better."

"You are insatiable and need--" he reached the top of the stairs with great effort, breathlessly before his shoulder crashed into the wall and grunted. "Waiting on me hand and foot will not earn you points," he tutted.

"If you'd want I could just drag you there by your arm," Cammie said nonchalantly, "I'm not doing this for points, but if we are keeping some sort of tally..."

"When are we not keeping a tally?" he mused and his cane slipped. He would have fallen forward if not for the hand catching him by his bicep. Grabbing his cane, he made an effort to push up again, brushing off her hold. "Stop trying to immasculate me woman. I am afraid in this state, you may succeed."

"Oh yeah, because you falling flat on your ass or sailing down the stairs in a bad costume is so manly that it hurts," Cammie returned, trying - not very hard - to mask the laugh.

"There is some dignity from falling on your ass from your own self induced.... whatever." He waved her off again dismissively and unsteadly got his feet enough to walk down the hallway. "Your concern is astounding. Are you not well?" he joked, pausing at his old door and trying to recall if it was his without asking.

"Completely and totally sick with some deadly virus - oh wait, can't get sick," Cammie muttered, "Yeah, other than undue concern that Captain Sparta would go flying down the stairs and leave me to my fingers, I'm just fine."

"Don't be crude," he scolded and moved on past the room, realizing that it wasn't his. "That was never one of your endearing qualities."

"I can be what I damn well please," Cammie said, walking behind because she wasn't so mean as to leave him in the hall if he passed out. Though she was seriously considering it, "I also had no idea I had any endearing qualities."

"You have many, although you choose to be a bitch ninety percent of the time. A radiant bitch, yet a bitch no less," Manuel mused as he paused as his door, turned and put his hand on the knob.

"Because that's what every girl wants to hear. Oh well, someone isn't getting laid tonight, that's for damn sure," Cammie said, "Now just wondering how to prove how big of a bitch I am. Because God, there are so many options."

"It is just what you need to hear because you are insufferable at times. Any show for concern and your fists come up. Do you not realize how tiring that is to me? I go to work, meetings with fake smiles, the hellfire club with equally as much and then I come home to you, very much in your nasty habit to offer me a falsehood as well. I am an empath, not made steel and yet I sit here, drunk as I am, and wonder, what in the world am I doing? I could not get you to genuninely smile at me as I couldn't possibly get you in a dress."

"I don't genuinely smile at anyone," Cammie said, "I don't know what you're doing. Or what you want from me. What do you want me to tell you? Would you even remember it right now?" she retorted, "I don't go out of my way to lie, so I think I have that going for me. I just have a list of things I normally don't talk about."

"Let us go over that then, yes?" Manuel held up a finger, counting off the list. "Dead boyfriend, yes, that would be at the top of a very heavy issue? Even on the anniversary that you believe I do not know about. Warrant for your arrest, which I have quietly ignored, despite the fact that dealing with you can sink me deeper than the coma I was in. Or whatever was going on tonight that warranted such deep depressing feelings from you, forbid that I find out, that I know anything because then you would not be able to maintain this facade that you have kept up this long."

"And what facade is that?" Cammie returned. The warrant wasn't worth attention. It was for piddly stuff. There wasn't a kid alive that hadn't shoplifted once or tagged a building when they had a chance. Everything else, was something... else. "Go ahead and tell me. I mean it's not like I know. Believe or not, I'm the fucking clueless one here."

"I have just told you. If you were not listening, that is not my problem." The door knob turned and for once, Manuel had no intentions of inviting her in. Drunk or not, he was exhausted of falsehoods and digging any deeper into this one only gave him a headache.

"Fine, it's a total, fucking lie that I don't care!" Cammie called after him, "I care even when I shouldn't give a flying fuck!" She was now past the point of caring if she woke anyone else up.

Where the door should have clicked closed, it paused and reopened a fraction. Manuel's face resurfaced. "I have it on good authority that you are not the only one." The door opened more - a silent invitation.

Cammie let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding and followed the invitation down the proverbial rabbit hole. She wasn't sure what to make of a relationship that had her actually caring about things. That was something to think about during the afterglow.