I drink whiskey instead of wine.

[dechanique]

Who: Aiden, Johnathan, Alastair and Dara
When: Saturday, May 15
Where: Teacher's lounge, then Dara's room
Summary: Aiden and Johnathan have a match of Go until his seizure kicks in. Dr. Al shows up to save the day, Dara becomes a grunt for helping move Johnathan and the stress leads Aiden to give in to Dara's liquor cabinet.

Aiden left his apartment early while his sister was taking a shower, picking up his antique Go board and old, well worn peices in their containers down the hall to the teacher's lounge, where he was to meet Johnathan for a friendly game of Go. The elf pushed open the door and started to set up on an empty table, keeping the two jars of peices beside him.

He was rather early, so he slipped a worn paperback novel from the inside pocket of his jacket and began to read, awaiting the appearance of his rival.

Johnathan was always extremely punctual when physically able. It wasn't that he got to his destinations early, he merely arrived to them at exactly the right time. Some of his acquaintances had commented on how disturbing that knack of his was, in fact. The door to the lounge admitted the mathematics prodigy exactly on the hour, his loafers carrying him to a seat across from Aiden without announcement.

Aiden looked up from his novel through one green eye before smiling politely. "Johnathan, I presume?" He spoke, slipping the bookmark back into the page before standing and politely extending a hand.

Sit down, stand up. He blinked in mild confusion at it, then shrugged and rose as well. "Indeed. You would be Professor Devon, then," he said, a comment rather than a question as they shook hands.

Aiden nodded, a pleased smile on his face as he returned to his seat. "You are very punctual." He noted, observing the man seated before him. He had never met this Johnathan, only spoke to him via journals and emails. Strange, as the campus was so small.

"It's something I pride myself on," he replied once he settled back into his chair comfortably. "So. Stone preference?"

Aiden looked down at the jars before him. "Ah, normally black places first, but the color is decided by guessing evens and odds, isn't it?" Of course it was, but no need to seem to.. pomp so quickly. "Would you prefer it that way or do you have a preference?"

He simply shrugged. "Your board, your call," he murmured as he pulled out a palm PC and idly checked something on it, stylus tapping at the screen.

Aiden blinked for a moment, watching the man's attention go elsewhere. "I shall take white then. Shall I assume we are on an even playing field so I should not issue any handicaps?" He responded, sliding the other professor the black stones.

"Can't imagine what sort of handicaps you'd put upon yourself," he said crisply, tucking the stylus into its place and the small computer into his breast pocket, attention once again focused on the here and now.

Twitch. He meant more the handicaps on his opponent. Ah, no matter. Aiden uncapped his jar of stones and awaited Johnathan's placing of the first stone.

Which he did, of course, place without much thought in some obscure corner of the board.

Well, that was indeed odd. Traditionally the game was played in the center and branching out- but it was not too uncommon to start near the edges- he must be rather cocky about his skills to begin near an edge where he could be cornered. Aiden persued, slipping down a white peice, claiming an intersection by Johnathan's peice. "How long have you been in Ireland?"

"Not long, at least compared to the rest of the staff. I guess the number of natives shouldn't have surprised me, though." As he talked, his eyes would glance at the board, taking slightly longer as the game would go on. If one could skim the surface of his mind, one would see that he was literally reading both his opponent's behavior and the layout of the pieces, literally doing calculations of the odds of the next placement.

Aiden laughed softly, although not the mathematical genius his opponent was, Aiden had enough years and experience behind his playing that led him to be a very skilled opponent. He had found himself to be rather good at prediction and strategy as the game progressed. "Ahh, how about the students? How are your classes?" He spoke slowly, his mind watching the game before him.

"They are, of course, understandably quite small. I didn't have to shoulder any entry level courses this semester, thankfully." There was absolutely zero intuition behind his placement of stones, each move a weighted measurement of what was apparently the most logical gain. Such cold adherence to numbers kept him from falling into at least the simpler sorts of traps one might be suckered into.

Aiden was finding this man rather hard to trap, both gaining minimal amounts of territory from each other, this chase continuing across the expanses of the large Go board. The elf's green eye traveled over the peices on the board, his mind flipping through his part games as well as his knowledge of the possible courses of action. One of them was bound to lose a very large amount of territory soon if this continued- and he was damn determined it wouldn't be himself. He was, after all, much older and experienced, and (he assumed) wiser.

Aiden's distraction might have kept him from noticing that his opponent was spending more and more of the time his opponent took to place his next stone blinking, rubbing his eyes, or shaking his head a little, small acts made as if to force his eyes to focus better. His next move took considerably longer than the last to execute, and ended with Johnathan pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

Aiden , at first, attributed this to how complex their game now was and that it was taking longer for the man to think, but as he focused from the board to his opponent, he noticed the pinching of th enose. "Ah, are you alright?" He asked with concern, pausing, stone held between his index and middle finger.

"Mmf. Developing a migraine, I think. 's irritating," he muttered, forcing his eyes shut tight for a moment before focusing on Aiden's face. "Continue."

The elf nodded, looking concerned for only a moment longer before placing his stone, hoping to force him into giving up one of his territories.

He decided to simply give Aiden a ko threat to worry about rather than shore up the defense, all the while using two fingers to slowly rub in circles at a particular spot of his temple. It would buy him more time to nurse his headache than merely playing cover-up.

Aiden mused over his move for a long moment before placing a stone, sparing the man another look. "Are you sure you are all right- we can save the game for play later if you are feeling unwell?"

"I don't like to leave a game unfinished. It makes me look like I'm afraid of losing," he informed with a slightly pained smile, resisting the urge to allow instinct to force him into over-aggression. Pride kept him hewing to intelligent strategy rather than buying time, much as his head might've preferred otherwise.

Aiden shruged and awaited the man's move before continuing the onslaught, giving up a smaller territory in favor of the larger one Johnathan was protecting.

That's about the time the pain really started to kick in. His jaw clenched tight to seal off a small whimper that tried to escape as he placed another stone.

Aiden paused, wanting to express his concern once again for the professors wellbeing, but only knew it would end up in another dismissal- so he continued. Experience and age would most likely win him this game- but he had much to gain from continuing to play this man. He had a different style than most players he had faced, very deliberate in his actions, where Aiden used strategy as well as instict to move his game.

In mid-placement attempt, his black stone clattered and bounced off the board. Johnathan had shot to his feet halfway through the placement, but his move toward the door was reduced to him sinking to the couch, stubbornly swallowly back a noise of pain. "Damnit," he swore under his breath, if weakly.

[dechanique]

Aiden stood quickly, crossing around to the other side of the table, to rest a hand on Johnathan's back. "You are really unwell, let me help you to the doctor's office?" He offered the man, abandoning the game.

Johnathan's response was to try to stand again, though he only got halfway up before nearly falling forward. "Damnit." He took a few labored breaths before speaking rapidly, voice straining. "I'm going to give you my key. Go to my rooms. In my medicine cabinet is a self-injection gun and a number of prepared cartridges. Load it with one of the calcium channel blockers."

Aiden nodded. "Can I leave you here alone?" He feared for the man- the room was quite empty and he did not want the man injuring himself.

"Yes," he hissed, clumsily forcing his key into Aiden's hand. Aiden nodded, taking the key and doing as he asked, exiting the lounge and hunting for the man's room, fumbling slightly in his hurriedness before unlocking the door and pushing inside, eyeing around for the bathroom (though all the rooms were set up the same way).

Of course, in his haste, he had neglected to realize that he labeled everything in, well, what amounted to non-English words. Chemistry and pharmaceuticals played a heavy role in the labeling of each drug, obviously, and only the most diligent of biochemists, doctors and pharmacists would be able to find what he'd been hoping for. Surmounting the small labels and bad handwriting would prove an additional challenge.

Aiden flipped open the medicine cabinet only to go into a small panic as he flipped through the bottles and found it quite undeciferable. What.. what the hell was a calcium channel blocker? Calcium he knew the symbol for but.. damnit! He was quite at a loss. In his desperation, he ran outside and looked around. He knew his sister's doctor resided in this building- he was only sad that Roisin was not still here, for she would be able to decipher the labels. Alastair was a medical doctor- he would know (he hoped). After beating on several doors, he finally found the American's, explaining the situation and dragging the man out of his room to help him find the correct bottle.

It took both of them a few moments, sorting throught he various containers, to find the one necessary, the blonde doctor grabbing the injector and having Aiden lead the way back to the teacher's lounge.

"Ah.. I.. coudln't read your labels- I brought a doctor." Aiden explained hastily as he returned to Johnathan's side.

The words were wasted. Johnathan wasn't even in the chair any longer. He had, instead, apparently decided to move to the wall, sitting with his side to it, curled up quite tightly. He rocked from side to side, downturned head bouncing off the wall in a flat, monotonous pattern, quiet and strangled noises of absolute terror and agony sometimes clawing their way past his lips.

Alastair joined Aiden on the floor beside Johnathan, loading the cartridge into the injector. He retained the calm composure of a trained MD, while Aiden was having a small panic attack int he corner, wondering what set this off.

Soon, the injector was place against the man's skin and with a spring, snapped into the professor's veins. Alastair pulled the contraption away and set it on the floor beside Aiden.

And, really, it did very little. Johnathan had been on a long quest of self-dosing to combat his ailment, and nothing he'd discovered had done a damned bit of good. Said blockers had just been another shot in the dark on his part. As it was, he'd probably give himself a concussion if left alone, banging his head against the nearest flat surface as he was.

Alastair reached out to restrain the man's head, ordering Aiden to grab a nearby couch cushion to rest it on, so the thrasing and knocking would keep him from injuring himself furthur.

"I need to take him down to the doctor's office or his room. Crap.." Aiden looked rather small and.. weak. "Can you run down to the security office and find a guard or someone there to help me carry the professor. It appears he's having a seizure.. there is not much I can do except keep him from hurting himself until it ceases or ... if it gets too violent, sedate him."

Aiden nodded and rushed down to find someone to help Alastair take the man back to his room (since that was closest, after all).

What Aiden got was a very tired-looking Dara on his way to his quarters.

Aiden would have pounced on Dara should he have been a little more frantic. "Ah, Angus." He remembered to use his human alias. "We're having a bit of a problem- one of the professors has started to seizure in the lounge and Alastair requested I find him someone to help carry the man to his rooms." Alastair obviously didn't trust Aiden's strength- and quite frankly the elf didn't blame him.

"Hmpf. The math teacher, right?" the guard said with a sigh, straightening up and making a bee-line for the lounge, ground-eating stride carrying him there quickly.

Aiden hurried along behind Dara, treading in his wake. Alastair looked up as Aiden coughed upon entering the room, the blonde doctor looking a bit relieved to see him.

"Ah, I was kind of hoping you were around. Can you give me a hand?" He continued to hover beside the professor.

"No, I just came along to watch," he said wryly as he drew closer. "Stretcher, or just grab an end and haul him?"

"Grab an end- it's not too far. Aiden, can you get the doors? You still have his keys, don't you?" Alastair asked of the elf looking quite uselessly at the scene.

"Ah, yes, I do." He responded, fishing them out of his pocket. Al nodded and looked up to Dara. "Heads or tails, your pick since your my volunteer?"

Without a word, Dara stooped to take up Johnathan's legs, waiting for Al to get him by the shoulders before lifting him with little effort. "Damn shame the doc's not around. Not that he ever spent much time in the office as it was."

Alastair gave Dara a lopsided smirk. "Missing your girl?" He lifted the shoulders and began to move, Aiden opening the door in front of them as they passed through. "I take it though he's done this before?"

"Meh. Why is it that everyone says that when I say we could use competent medical help?" he grumbled. "Aye, he has. Usually, he does a good job about locking himself up in his rooms when it happens. Wonder what kept him from hiding this time?"

Alastair grinned, backwalking towards the man's room. "What- I'm not a competant enough medical doctor? You wound me. Just because I'm not short, cute and female..." He sighed in mock sadness as Aiden unlocked Johnathan's door and opened it for the pair.

"Ah.. we were playing Go.." Aiden admitted as Dara and Aiden walked past with the twitching professor.

"You're also the shrink. Aren't you kind of rusty, head doctor?" His eyes flicked toward Aiden when he spoke. "Okay. And?" Apparently, the admission mystified him.

Alastair rolled his eyes. "Hardly. I'm a doctor first and foremost- I only became a psychiatrist when one of my medical patients smashed his head from a 5 floor dive." But he was sure he told the older man this story before. The blonde peered around, hunting for a couch or bed to place the man on.

"Ah, he did not want to abandon the game although he seemed to be having difficulties. He finally got up and fell over, seizing."

"I bet that made the modern art crowd happy," he muttered under his breath. When they crossed the threshold into what should've been the bedroom, Dara's eyebrows shot up. The place was like a temple to computer tech. It was covered in PCs, laptops, monitors, displays, televisions, recording and playback devices of all kinds... and absolutely no place to sleep. "Uh. I guess his couch is a fold-out bed?" the guard hazarded after a moment.

Alastair blinked, looking around. "Wow.. Aubrey would get a kick out of this." He mentioned, noting the girls fascination with all things technology. She might just cream her pants standing in here. "Ah, back out then. Let's set him on the couch." The doctor responded, aiden flitting back to hold open the bedroom door.

"She'd probably wrap herself around one of the PC towers and never let go," he agreed, smirking. "Right." And so they backed out again to deposit the math teacher in his living room.

Alastair would have spoken his private comment aloud, but being her therapist it was quite inappropriate. Once the teacher had been laid out on the bed, the doctor plunked down on the floor beside the couch, hoping to keep an eye on him until his episode finished. Aiden stood about, at a loss of words at tis point.

"Thanks, Angus. If you had other issues to attend to you can go. You too Aiden, if you wish. I think I can handle it from here. I have your numbers if anything." He would have enjoyed the company, but it was a rather dull task.

"He always seemed to try and hide whenever he thought an episode was going to happen. He might not be very happy with a bunch of us hanging around," Dara noted, taking Aiden by the arm.

Alastair nodded. "Right, I'll wait here with him. Don't stress out, even if im not cute and small and female, I can take good care of him." A pause. "You should get Deirdre a white nurse dress." He laughed. "And you should give me a cigarette for later." He nodded to Aiden, to bid him farewell. The elf nodded, still in shock, as Dara took his arm to usher him out.

"If he didn't trust her to care for him, it couldn't hurt if you do it," he replied dryly. "And why should I spend the money when I can just raid your closet, eh?" With that, he started leading the biology professor out.

Alastair laughed, shaking his head. "Right. Goodnight Angus, Aiden." He gave a slight wave as the two exited, Aiden leaving the keys on the counter by the door.

[dechanique]

Needless to say, Aiden was a bit shaken. He really just wanted to play go.

"C'mon, boyo. We're going to have a drink," the larger elf said, leading Aiden away.

Aiden blinked. "Ah.. but I don't drink..." Though he allowed himself to be led away, considering Dara still had his arm, after all.

"Considering the look on your face, you could use it," he replied dryly, wandering toward his quarters.

The professor sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair as he followed Dara. Quite frankly, he had never been inside the man's quarters, he didn't think. He had spoken to him on rare occaisons, but for the most part, the majority of Devon interactions with Dara were on his sister's part.

"Considering everything going on, I figured this would set you to ripping out your hair," he said once they'd gotten to where they were going and he had gone to raid his stash of liquor.

Aiden looked around the man's apartments and found a seat on the couch, strangely enough- his sister's favorite spot when she had been a frequenter of Dara's rooms. He didn't think he was that easily frazzled, really...

But perhaps things had gotten a bit too on edge for him recently, especially having to share an apartment with his sister. And this whole ordeal with his mother and younger brother. "How are you faring?" He thought perhaps he should make conversation instead of just sitting there as if his mind had dissapeared.

"Nice dodge," he replied blandly, plunking down next to Aiden with two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. "I've been better," he admitted once he topped the glasses off.

Aiden had never been good at conversing, after all. "Ah.. you look a little stressed.." He mused as he watched the whisky fill the glass. It didn't look very good to drink.. and didn't smell much better.

He took up one of the glasses and looked at Aiden expectantly. "Your mother showing up is always enough to set me on edge."

Aiden winced, both at the mention of his mother and the thought of drinking the liquid. He lifted the glass, eyeing it. "She has a tendency to do that to people. What is she bothering you about this time?" What was more disconcerting was his brothers interests and recent helping of his mother and her.. projects.

"Just being here is enough for me to watch her like a hawk," he muttered, then tossed back the shot in one easy motion.

Aiden winced and followed the mans motion, nearly choking on the liquid, but setting down the empty glass. He made a sort of face, looking at the bottle. "That was horrible." He didn't really know how his sister could drink this stuff constantly.

Dara tried not to laugh. Really, he did. Okay, so he didn't try very hard. Once he got his snickering under control, he said, "C'mon, lightweight. It won't kill you." With that, he topped the glasses off again.

Aiden arched a brow, already feeling his ears turning a bit red. "I do not wish to drink anymore, Dara." Lightweight indeed. The elf barely ever drank wine, much less this much heavy liquor. "I am worried, however, over my mother's frequenting of the school." And her frequent discussions and letters with the school villian. He commonly intercepted letters, but found them undecipherable- no doubt due to his mother's talents.

"Have you ever gotten drunk before?" he asked, nudging the glass closer to Aiden with a finger. "If I have any say in it, 'frequent' would be the wrong word to use," he said sourly.

"No.." Which was quite true, except he found his hand picking up the glass almost automatically. Yay for alcoholism being genetic. "I wish you would stop feeding my sister alcohol." He said out of the blue before drinking the glass in his hand, making another wince. "It still tastes horrible."

He tossed back his shot as well. "She's a big girl, Aiden. Isn't it about time she made that kind of decision for herself?"

Aiden stared at Dara for a very long moment. "No." And the elf leaned forward to pour more drinks. "She is not responsible with her drinking habits.." Or her choice of partners, or this.. or that.. gah- she was destined to destroy herself one day he was sure- but his mind was confused- the alcohol destroying his thought process.

"I'm sure you'd probably say the same about me. Then again, you're the one pouring drinks this time. How many millenia does she have under her belt now?"

"Yes, you are quite irresponsible." Aiden said without thinking, pikcing up his drink. "And 1.5. Which isn't nearly enough."

"Hasn't killed me yet," The large elf observed dryly, quickly emptying his shot. "Your mother got married at that age, didn't she? My parents did."

Aiden took his shot quickly and set it down, his eye halflidded as he looked at Dara. "I certainly hope Aeriwvynne is not intending on getting married- at least not to Fachtna. I think I will arrange for his murder." Of course, that was supposed to be inner monologue. But one of the things Aiden lacked when inebriated would be an inner monologue. And he said it in a perfectly serious tone.

This got Dara laughing again. "Good luck there, boyo. He's a little hard to get to, especially with me being obligated to stop you if you try at this point."

"I shall destroy you as well." He responded, though he made no move to refill his glass. Actually, he was quite sure he wouldn't be able to stand at this point, his lack of drinking actually causing him to lose his grip on his illusions. Reason # 156 why Aiden never drank. Saying stupid things would be reason # 123

"How do you propose to do that, then?" he asked, taking the liberty of filling the fourth round.

"I shall light you on fire. I am sure you consumed enough alcohol to make you very flammable." He responded, eyeing the fourth round but not reaching for it.

"Nah. You might have, though. You're a lot smaller. Heh." He waited for Aiden to actually reach for the glass before drinking his shot.

Aiden continued to stare at the shot. "I do not think I should have this round." He responded at last, looking up at Dara. "I should probably go back to my rooms." Pause. "On second thought, perhaps I should stay here." He always forgot that he was living with his sister now. And she didn't seem the least bit concerned about what made Aiden feel very awkward, considering she had been used to living with females and her boyfriend.

"Yeah? Why's that?" he asked to all three comments, eyebrow rising a little.

Aiden spoke before his brain could sort through the best possible responses. "I fear I am quite inebriated at the moment, and thought I should go home for fear of embarassment at your hands and furthur inebriation. Then I remembered who I was living with and decided to deal with the reprocussions of remaining here."

"Meh. What're you afraid I'm gonna do, exactly? And what's wrong with living with your sister?" he asked, finally losing patience and tossing back his shot. He made no move to refill it, at least.

"I'm not quite sure, really." He responded, finally reaching forward to take the drink, seeing as how Dara had taken his own. The empty glass returned to the table. "It is difficult to explain." Walking about in her underwear was not exactly conducive to a good working environment. "She enjoys making me uncomfortable. Like tickling me. She knows I hate it and yet she continues. I should put a stop to it but she seems to enjoy it so much. Do you have anything that tastes better?"

"You need to learn how to stop her, then," he declared. To his question, he blinked. "What's wrong with this stuff?"

"It tastes disgusting." He responded, looking at the whiskey.

"You're obviously insane."

"You obviously have no taste." He retorted, remaining seated on the couch. Somehow sleeping outside seemed like a very good idea. "Do you think it will rain tonight?" Aiden was normally a slow speaker, calculating his words and thoughts carefully before speaking- but now, it seemed he had a case of verbal diahrea, unable to keep himself from saying whatever came to mind.

"It's Ireland. When doesn't it?" he joked, rising from the couch to wander to the kitchen and more liquor. "I dunno, what do you consider 'better?'"

"Something that does not taste like mouthwash and vomit?" He leaned over to watch the man walk to the liquor cabinet. "Shame, about the rain. I would have liked to go outside."

"You must have some interesting mouthwash. And heartburn." He looked around for... something. "Scotch... vodka... coconut rum? Who put this here?"

"Coconut rum sounds good." It sounded much more pleasant than the others, really.

"Figures. You probably planted it here when I wasn't looking." With that, he brought it back to the table to be set alongside the whiskey.

"I do not own alcohol, except the occaisonal bottle of wine." He poured himself a drink and drank it down. A pause. "That is not quite as bad- though I do wish you had some water. Or some food. Do you have something to eat? I think my sister made cookies- we should retrieve them. Or the pie. Or perhaps even that vegetable casserole which was quite delicious though I'm not sure if I ate the last of it this morning.."

"... I think that's the most I've ever heard you say in one breath," he said after blinking for a few moments. "Uh. Check the fridge. Aeri dropped off leftovers, since you guys were apparently complaining about them."

"Was it really- I never thought I was all that quiet, though I have been told that I am very dull- ah, leftovers?" He stood, and promptly fell back onto the couch.

"That attempt did not go very well, let me try it again." And he was much more sucessful this time around. "Well, my sister has been rather bored around the house, since I am apparently rather boring and do not entertain her properly, so she persists in cooking every opportunity she can. And in that way, my apartment had been overrun with various foods, which she and I, and her lover and she, continued to eat throughout the week. There comes a point where you can taste the food is no longer holding its flavor well due to constant reheating and prolonged cool temperates, and we all decided it was for the greater good to ask for her to slow down her rate of cooking and make us meals in an orderly fashion and of a smaller quanity."

"But if you have some of that pot pie she made a few days ago, I will gladly have some." And he walked to the kitchen with deliberate steps.

"Or you can just stop whining and tell her to offload the extras on me. I'll actually eat them." Dara turned on the couch to watch Aiden's progress. This was just too good to miss.

Aiden managed to make it into the kitchen without bumping into anything too dangerous, which, in Dara's apartment, was a feat in and of itself. "My my Dara you have many things of which I could kill myself with by accidently falling into them." He said as he pulled open the fridge, nearly stumbling back at the overeffort. Rumbling through the contents, he found something that looked tasty and stumbled about the kitchen on the hunt for a microwave, which he eventually found by nearly walking right into the counter it was atop. "Aha!" And he put the plate in. A pause as he examined the tupperware lid.

"I hope you do not intend to keep my plastic containers, as they are quite useful and since my sister has given you all the leftovers, i find myself deliriously short on them. And we do not whine, we simply ask her to slow down. She really is quite bored- it's a curse. I wish she would be less bored and thus less irritating in harassing me, but then that would imply that she spend more time with Fachtna, which is not something I would want." He watched the dish spin in the microwave. "Where do you keep your silverware?"

Dara was busy quietly shaking with laughter, trying very hard to keep it quiet and to not curl up into a fetal ball. After a minute, he managed to compose himself. "They'll get back to your place one way or another. And what do you want me to do about your sister? She's got friends, a mate, and that computer thing she does. Pawn her off on one of those. And the flatware's in the drawer under the microwave."

Of course, Aiden didn't hear that quite right, leaning out the doorframe. "Pawn off my sister? I don't really think there is a reliable scale for such things- how would one assign a value to a person? She's quite pretty and she cooks and cleans well, so I assume that would get her a higher- OH you mean make her play her video games? She does that quite often, but when it is 4 oclock in the morning, the sounds of screaming and gunfire as she makes 13 year old american boys miserable playing .. that shooting game she plays is quite bothersome.Ah! Oh my." He jumped, startled, as the microwave went off.

The elf turned to the microwave and removed the container, finding a fork and progressing to sit on the couch once more, this time with food.

Dara couldn't help it anymore. He fell into another quiet fit of laughter, though this time it was so prolonged that he actually fell off the couch.

Aiden stared for a long time at Dara in his silent fits of laughter, the fork raised halfway between his lips and the tupperware. "What are you ont he floor for?"

After a bit, a desperate hand shot up to grab a couch cushion in an attempt to haul the rest of him back up. It didn't work.

Aiden continued to stare in silence for a long moment before deciding Dara was quite batty and continued to eat the leftovers quite hungrily, lacking his usual grace.

After a minute, he managed to crawl back up into a sitting position on the couch in question. "You should find someone to kick her ass at that game. I bet that'd get her out of your hair for a while."

"Ha! I doubt that is possible. But if it were, she would indeed become much more fanatical and spend even longer a mounts of time glued to the monitor. But that might make it hard for her to prepare meals for me." Aiden set down the empty container. "I am content. And tired. I think I shall fall asleep soon."

"Oh, I bet you could find something. What about that guy tonight? Place was crawling with buttons and screens and other... bits. Bet he could do it." It made sense to him. Everyone he'd met thus far who knew what they were doing with computers seemed to know how to do the whole game... thing.

Aiden began to slump over on Dara's couch, his eyes watching the man, but his body slowly listing to one side. "Ah yes, that is quite possible- I think perhaps that is a good idea- though I wonder how to introduce him to such a game if he does not play it already."

"Tell him your sister plays it. Ask what he knows about it. I dunno. I haven't had problems keeping her entertained by myself."

"I hope you don't do anything inappropriate to her." He warned, but he was much too tired to continue his mindless banter, flopping on his side on Dara's couch.

"What do you mean, inappropriate?" he asked, eying the other elf.

It was much too late. Aiden had already dozed off, the alcohol expending his energy and then dropping him into a drunken sleep. Well, at least he was entertaining for a good half hour or so.