Punch Drunk

Writers: AL, Heather
Date Posted: 5th December 2015

Characters: Irabel, Thayde
Description: Some apprentices play a prank on Irabel.
Location: Dolphin Hall
Date: month 3, day 11 of Turn 8

Thayde

Irabel stared at the glass that had suddenly become empty. When did that
happen? While she had been staring at her plate, it had suddenly gone from
full to nothing in a matter of seconds. Or had she finished it off? Her
tongue ran over her lips, tasting the last vestige of wine that had been
consumed only a moment prior. Ah, yes, she had finished it.

A moment later, an apprentice hurried up and, with a flurry of giggles,
very kindly offered the journeywoman more. She smiled and nodded, vaguely
waving at the glass before letting her hand drop. Once it was full, she
picked it up and put it to her lips. Tangier than usual, she found the
vintage to be an interesting amulgation of flavours. Amulgation.
Amulation. Amulagation. Something like that.

Halfway through the drink, Irabel managed to drop her cup which splattered
wine all over her tunic, and the glass shattered as it hit the floor.
"Ugh!" Immediately, the woman sprang to her feet, only nearly to topple
over. If it hadn't been for the conveniently placed table, she would have
simply gone sprawling. More twitters of giggles surrounded her, but Irabel
waved her hand away as if to dismiss them as figments of her imagination.

The table behind him was filled with apprentices, very giggly apprentices.
Thayde paused, a piece of bread between his fingers as he turned to see
what was so funny. Young annoying apprentices, that was the usual. His eyes
meandered along their table. No alcohol, that was in order. He frowned a
little, not immediately seeing what the source of humor was… until he heard
the scrape of a chair leg on the stone floor.

Looking beyond the apprentice table he saw a sight that was unusual, very
unusual. Pushing up from the table, Thayde weaved between the many tables
in the Dining Hall to arrive at Irabel's side.

"Irabel," his eyebrows raised in surprise as he placed a hand on her
shoulder. He'd expected to find her sick or something, but instead she
reeked of wine. "You are drunk." It was said with surprise.

"I am wet." The woman peered down at the stain that consumed a good
quarter of what had been a clean tunic before the unfortunate accident.
She peered up at the Hallsecond, then leaned back even further, almost
toppling over a second time. "You got bigger."

Thayde had to purse his lips together to keep from laughing. Even though
she was in a pretty giggly mood herself, he would feel bad later about
laughing at her when she was in such a vulnerable state. "You are right, on
both accounts." he said, taking her elbow. "Why don't you let me help you
to your quarters? You can put on a dry tunic when you get there."

"I'm fine." Irabel waved him away, though her hand got a bit too close to
his face. She wobbled a bit as she took a step forward, then another
step. Suddenly, the floor flew up and met her and she found herself
staring down at it. "Hello."

Reacting quickly, Thayde had latched on to Irabel's waist to help break her
downward spiral toward the floor. "Whoa there." He straightened and brought
Irabel up with him. "Come on," he said, again trying to lead her to her
quarters and out of the Dining Hall where everyone was beginning to look.

"Whoa." Irabel let go of a giggle of her own and allowed Thayde to pull
her back to her feet. If it hadn't been for his support, she would have
taken another trip to the floor before they even got out of the dining
hall. "I'm fine." She muttered once through the doors and attempted to
peel him off of her.

"Clearly." he said, allowing her to put a little space between them, but
not so much that he couldn't reach out and steady her. "What's the
occasion? You're normally not one to drink so much."

"Occassssion?" Irabel blinked over at him, then unsteadily began the trek
down the hallway. "I didn't drink. Wait...yes, I had wine." She nodded,
which about sent her tumbling again, but she managed to brace herself
against a hall. "Good wine too. Never had wine that tangy." She giggled
again, then had to lean more heavily against the wall. Her feet took one
more step than her hands did and she almost fell.

Thayde's hands were up, hovering near Irabel to keep her from falling.
"Tangy wine, huh?" He wondered what exactly she had drank that packed such
a punch.

"Yesh. Apprentices thought I'd like it." And she had. Irabel didn't
normally have more than one glass, but since they had offered, she thought
it polite to have a second. It had been followed by another and another,
though she was not quite sure why she'd kept on drinking, just that it had
been too good to stop. Maybe that was why. Was it? "You should try it."

The man's eyes narrowed as he thought back to the giggling table of
apprentices he'd been sitting near. He made a mental note to check out his
suspicions later. "Maybe I will." When they arrived the door to to her
room, Thayde crossed his arms over his chest. "Here we are. Are you going
to be okay in there?" The tone of his voice said he clearly doubted that
she would be.

"Sure." Irabel attempted to open the door, but when she tugged on it, the
objected refused to budge. She paused a moment, staring at the handle,
then tugged again, unable to get it to swing open. "I don't think it likes
me."

"Ah, I believe I have the answer to this one." Thayde reached out to the
woman's belt and withdrew her key from the satchel there. "Allow me." He
would have given her the key, but he had a feeling she would end up
dropping it. Putting the key in the door, he gave it a twist and then
pushed the portal to her room open.

"It likes you." Irabel stumbled through the doorway, then stopped in the
middle of the main living area. She swayed a little from side to side,
then suddenly fell to her knees and emptied the contents of her stomach.

Thayde winced at the sound of vomit splashing onto the floor. This wasn't
his first time dealing with throw-up, he'd had three older brothers and two
younger sisters, so he remembered what it was like to take care of someone.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He helped Irabel to her feet and
steered her around the mess in the floor, he would handle that shortly.

Pushing Irabel down into a chair he cast about the room for sign of a wash
basin. Finding one in the corner, he dunked the cloth draped over it in
water before coming back to Irabel and dabbing at her face and mouth.
"Here, you take over, I'm going to find you a clean tunic." He turned and
lifted his eyebrows, looking around for sign of a wardrobe or trunk.

It wasn't until he entered into the small bedroom that he found one.
Within a tall wardrobe, clothes were hung and folded just so, lines crisp
and clean, like one might expect at a crafter's stall at a gather where
presentation was everything. The bedroom, too, was immaculate, not a
cobweb or dust speck to be seen and the bed made in a fashion a guard
captain training new recruits would be proud of. When he returned with the
tunic, Irabel was attempting to wipe herself down with jerky, uncoordinated
motions.

Thayde hesitated for a moment as he watched Irabel. She needed to put on a
different tunic, the one she currently wore was stained with wine and now
with some vomit, but she could barely handle wiping her face, how was she
going to change tunics? Thayde didn't mind helping the woman out of her
tunic and into a new one, but how would she feel about that in the morning?
Knowing Irabel, she would be red and embarrassed. Thayde had never seen her
out of control and he had a feeling it was because she so enjoyed
everything in her life being in a particular order- that was evident just
by the sight of her quarters.

**She'll just have to get over it. She can't sleep like that.** He decided,
inhaling deeply to steel himself for what needed to happen next.

"Alright, let's get this tunic off so you can put on this clean one." He
had grabbed a thin cotton one that was soft and stretchy, one he assumed
would be something she might sleep in as opposed to what she normally wore
around the Hall.

'S'not coming out." Irabel muttered as she continued to wipe and wipe and
wipe at the stain, which stubbornly refused to get any lighter, much less
disappear all together. "Gotta come out…"

Thayde reached out and touched a hand to hers to still her movements, "Let
the laundry take care of it. Get out of that shirt and put this one on."

"It won't come out." Irabel's glassy eyes turned up to Thayde's and she
shook her head. "She's gonna get mad if I don't get it out."

"Who is going to get mad?" he asked.

"Mum." Irabel muttered again as she resumed her attempt to rub the stain
from her tunic. "Get out, damned spot."

"Look, why don't you give me the shirt and I'll get the spot out. Come on,
I'll trade you." He dangled the clean shirt in front of her enticingly.

"Okay." The offer seemed to quell her enough to encourage her to untie the
laces and pull of the shirt before thrusting it out to him. "Gotta get it
all out. No pink."

**Focus on the shirt, Thayde, focus on the shirt.** He coached as he handed
her the clean one and took the stained garment. Tossing it on the table, he
looked around for something to clean up the vomit that was still on the
floor while Irabel changed.

Irabel stared at the tunic which hung limply from her hand. For a moment,
she seemed to forget what it was for, then began to struggle with the
item. As she attempted to find the proper holes, she found her head would
not fit. Attempts to fix the problem only resulted in twisted fabric.

By the time Thayde had the floor clean he turned around expecting to see
Irabel dressed in something clean, but instead what he saw was a hilarious
sight. "Did you get into a fight with that shirt?" He asked with amusement
as he crossed over and worked the offending garment back over her head.

"Arms up." he said.

"It doesn't like me." Evidently nothing liked her that night. Without
complaint, Irabel lifted her arms up to allowed the Hallsecond to help her
finally get decent again. "The room keeps moving."

Thayde made a noncommittal sound as he fed her arms into the shirt. He was
too busy focusing on the task at hand, so that he didn't focus on the
_other_ things his hands would like to do, to reply. The dolphineer didn't
even breathe until the shirt was successfully in place, covering Irabel.
**Thank Faranth.**

"Alright," he clapped his hands together, "done. Now, why don't you head to
bed, hm? You can sleep this off."

"Okay." With the way she was wavering even while sitting, she would not be
long for the world of the conscious anyway. When she attempted to stand,
Irabel staggered forward, uprighted herself and attempted again to remain
so. Unfortunately, her equilibrium refused to cooperate and as she began
to fall out, her hands flung out to grab on to the closest thing to her -
the dolphineer who'd managed to keep her upright before.

And just like that, Thayde had two armfuls of soft, curvy Irabel. "I
gotcha." He steered her toward her bed, keeping one arm around her waist to
keep her upright, while he used his free hand to yank back the blankets.
"Here we go." Letting Irabel sink to the bed, Thayde released his hold on
her and bent instead to tug off her shoes. "You are going to be so
mortified in the morning."

"I am?" Irabel's head fell into the oh so soft pillow. She tilted her
head downward to watch Thayde remove her footwear through half slitted
eyes. As if some inner thought amused the woman, her lips tilted upward a
little as she studied him.

Thayde glanced up an arched an eyebrow, "Something funny, miss?"

"No. You're really nice." There were fewer hills between her words, the
sounds slurring into a long valley of tones. "Why are you so nice?"

Thayde didn't really have an answer for Irabel's question, so he settled
for brushing her hair off her forehead and pressing a kiss there,
"Goodnight Irabel."

Irabel didn't respond except to smile a little brighter before letting her
eyes close and allowing her body to fall into slumber.

Last updated on the December 10th 2015

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Punch Drunk