Only the good die young (PM to join)

[Lorelai]

It had been one week since Lorelai had lost her baby and she wasn't coping well. Her mother and Lyle had stayed with her for as long as they could but they were needed at home and quite honestly Lorelai was happy to see them go. She loved them both and they had been nothing but kind to her those past five days but they both wanted something from her that she wasn't willing to give; they wanted her home. When they realised that they would be unable to persuade her to return, they reluctantly returned home with her. She had assured them that she was fine and that everything was as it should be, but deep down she wasn't sure how she was going to survive alone. Of course she didn't have to be alone. She had at least one person in the city to whom she could speak, one person that had been kind enough to offer her their condolences. Lorelai was not in any state to properly respond to such a kindness. Despite herself, she was taking the medication shed been prescribed. Ordinarily she wouldn't have allowed the chemical pills to cross her lips but her mother, and Lyle, had insisted she take them and now she almost felt as if she needed them. She didn't know what they were, only how they made her feel and they made her feel numb. This however was not enough and the teetotal Lorelai had finally succumbed to the power of alcohol.

She hadn't drunk anything while she had company, she had had them to distract her. Now however she needed something more than her four walls and bottle of pills could provide. She walked dangerous areas of the city, sat for hours in locations that were known vampire hotspots, she'd sought out her friend and offered her a key to her place so that she might be of some use to at least one person in her crazy, upturned world. None of it helped. That was until she had her first proper drink. She didn't like the taste of it and it burned her throat as she swallowed but a few more of those and her cares were all but forgotten.

She'd sobered up, pills not included, and decided to hit the bars in the Redwood district. Drinking far from home was supposed to ensure that she didn't bring trouble to her own doorstep, only trouble might have been just what she was looking for. She wasn't supposed to drink on the pills she was taking and the cocktail made her unpredictable. Poor, boring, dependable Lorelai become someone her family would not recognise. She stepped of the tube and caught a glimpse of her reflection. She looked tired and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. Her golden hair flowed down over her back and her appearance was, for the most part, quite normal. She had on one of her pre-pregnancy dresses, since the baby bump was all but gone. (She'd been encouraged to help heal herself using her sorcerer powers by those that loved her and it had for the most part been successful). What gave away the fact that she was perhaps a little worse for wear, besides the dark circles around her water blue eyes, was the fact that she had on two different shoes. Both sandals, only they were a slightly different colour and the motifs’ on them were different. Lorelai neither noticed, nor cared.

She ended up in a place called 'The Handle Bar', though she wasn't sure it was really a good fight for her, but then no pub would likely be a good fit for her as she wasn't actually a drinker. Without really paying much attention to anyone or anything, she sat herself down at the bar and ordered a drink. She didn't much care what it was, so long as it was strong. The bartender poured her a double shot of vodka over ice and set it down in front of her. For a few minutes she simply sat there, staring in to the glass, watching the ice slowly melt and then finally she lifted the galls to her lips and took a large swig of the liquid. She shivered as it hit the back of her throat and suppressed the urge to gag. This was what she thought her future held and she had to get used to it.

[Badal]

"Bartender," I called out to the man serving drinks. He was moving to the music, trying to convince people that it was fun to drink with the hopes of getting a better tip. Pulling a hundred dollars from my wallet I handed it to him, "She's cut off after the vodka." I gestured to the woman next to me. "She has on two different sandals, looks disheveled, bags under her eyes, you're enabling a drinking problem. As a bartender it is within your responsibility to cut off an individual when they clearly should not have any to prevent any responsibility falling upon the bar because I'm sure there's been a few lawsuits taken against family establishments, correct?" I spoke to him. Honestly, I was pulling the information from my backside. I made sure how I spoke sold the information. Over time I developed a hell of a poker face and a sure sounding voice. My job required me to lie. It helped in situations like this one.

The bartender stared at me dumbfounded for a moment. Then he saw the money and took in what I said. Take the money and spare his job, or risk it all, anyone in his situation wouldn't need too much time. Eventually he nodded at me he took the money and looked at the woman, "You're cut off after this ma'am." People were bound to do things with the right motivation.

My gaze went to the woman, "A bottle of booze will not help you." Taking in her features I added on, "Nor is whatever you're taking or not taking. I will call you a cab whenever you wish to go." Clearly the woman had some kind of chemical imbalance given the disheveled nature she was in. I couldn't tell if she needed to be on something or off of it. Rest probably wouldn't have been a bad thing either.

As much as I was out here to hunt, I didn't want to see innocent people die either. Both from her harming herself and anyone she may have harmed if she got behind a steering wheel. "The question is: 'Why are you doing this to yourself?'" both of my eyes remained level at the woman.

[Lorelai]

Almost choking on the vodka, she looked over at the guy that was bribing the bartender to cut her off. Yes, she looked a mess but she'd not had anyone do this to her before. Anyone else in the world might have been angry by the gesture, annoyed even but Lorelai wasn't like most people and she certainly wasn't the sort to get angry. In fact she saw the gesture as the most touching act of kindness and generosity, so when the guy tried to strike up a conversation with her she was more than happy to reciprocate.

Glass in hand, she turned herself on the stool to face the man. She wasn't sure what to make of him but he had an air of authority about him and the current situation caused her to see him in a positive light. The fact that this stranger was trying to impose his will on her, did not even occur to Lorelai.

"I'm not sure you wish to go down that road," she replies, looking into the glass, her heart sinking to even begin this conversation. She drank to forget. She didn't want to drag it all up but then he had asked. And every question deserved an answer.

"I lost my child." One hand moves from off the glass and comes to rest on her stomach. "He was gone before he even lived."

Just these few words were painful to say and she focused all of her energy on not bursting into tears. The pain she felt was clear with every syllable she'd spoken and when she finally looked up at the guy, her eyes were filled with such sadness that it would have been almost impossible for anyone looking into them not to notice.

The hand on her stomach moved up to her head, where she lightly racked her fingers over the surface of the golden locks before tucking some of her hair behind her left ear, the hair on the right still hanging down, half covering her face as she to the unknown male.

[Badal]

((OOC: I didn't see the reply!!))

Even I could feel her heart sank when the woman said the cause. Signalling for the bar tender I said, "One more for her then she's off." When the bartender went away I looked to the woman. "I understand you're coming to the terms with loss. I know no words I say can ever bring the memory of him back. Anyone that walks into a conversation like this with that kind of thinking is a fool. However, I have one thing to say to you before you take that drink."

Just to make sure I had the woman's attention I grabbed the drink and set it further away from her. "I want you to look in the mirror then ask yourself one simple question. 'Would your son like seeing his Mom like this?' Think about that question before your next drink, pill or whatever else you're on," my voice was firm and I brought the drink closer to her. She was either going to listen to me or not. I kept a lack of explanation because she could be religious or it could have been a reality check.

[Lorelai]

The bartender looked over at the guy and then did as he was asked. He knew what Lorelai had been drinking and prepared a fresh glass with a double shot of vodka over ice. He set the glass in front of her and gently patted the hand that sat on the bar.

"I'm sure it will get easier in time."

It was one of those platitudes that people said when they didn't know what else to say. She looked up at him, not at all unnerved by the physical contact. Her mouth curled in a soft smile but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She was thankfully that he didn't say he was sorry, as people had a tendency to apologise even though it wasn't their fault. She was probably a worse offender than most when it came to that particular bad habit but it was only recently that she began to see the futility of it. Having brushed this thought aside she looked back to her new companion.

Now Lorelai. Behave. He's only being nice. This could be you if the situation were reversed and you know it.

She had a tendency to talk to herself like this when thinking. It was an internal conversation and she shifted between talking to herself and thinking for herself.

If only people would just mind their own business. What does he know? Why does he care? He's told the bartender to cut me off. I should down the drink and leave him to pay the bill. Go to another bar. Come on legs. Do it.

They didn't. It wasn't her style and as much as she may have thought it, it wasn't something she'd act on. Instead she stared at the man and then downed the rest of her drink before placing the empty glass on the counter and picking up its replacement.

"My son would love me no matter how I looked or what I did. Love is unconditional. I would rather drink to dull the pain, than cut my flesh and burden my family further."

She was talking of suicide. She wasn't a coward though and while she had the strength of will to do it if the circumstances were right, as in she could save the life of another, she wasn't so far gone that she could believe that hurting herself would bring him back. Of course it weighed heavily on her mind that she was a sorcerer. She had the gift to renew energy in others, to heal them even, and yet when it mattered most her powers had failed her. Healing her child had been beyond her capabilities.

[Badal]

"I understand love is unconditional, but would your son like seeing his mother like this? Would he like seeing the proud woman he knows lie broken by drink or pill? Ask yourself that," I said to the woman not wanting to be so hash. Unfortunately she needed to see the problem.

My eyes met hers as I waited for an answer. "I know what happened to your son wasn't fair. It wasn't right. I say the same to my ex-wife's fate. Trust me. The feelings of loss between a mother and child I cannot fathom. The bitterness you feel I understand all too well," I hated to bring up Lucy. She was alive, but she wasn't the woman I met. What changed her, how it changed her, and how it effected us was not fair. It was very far from fair.

"There will come a time and place you will be unable to forget about, but you will need to push past it. You will need to do it for yourself and those that care about you," I was trying to be serious with the woman. She would need to pull herself up by her boot strings sooner or later.

[Lorelai]

Lorelai listened with the patience of a saint, as always. She let the man tell her what she needed to do and understood from what he said that he had a little experience in this area also. It was this fact that pressed on her most when he was done talking. As she'd listened she'd pretty much swallowed down half of what she had before her.

He's right you know. You're not only hurting yourself doing this.
I'm not hurting anyone. No-one that loves me knows what I'm doing. You know that.
Just because they don't know now Lorelai, doesn't mean to say that they won't find out. Do you really want to hurt Lyle further?
Urgh. Leave me alone. No-one is going to find out. How could they?
They'll learn it soon enough when you push yourself too far and end up in hospital again. Or worse. The morgue.
Well if that's my fate. So be it.

Lorelai clearly wasn't thinking straight and her inner voice stood no chance of talking her back off the ledge either. Between it and the stranger, they should have been able to make more headway. Lorelai was perfectly reasonable, when in her right mind and herein lay the crux of the problem; she was not in her right mind, not at all.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," she said, drink in hand as her eyes moved from him to the liquor. "But we must all work through our issues in our own way. For all intents and purposes I am now alone in this world."

In this city, her mind corrected her, and even that wasn't entirely accurate. She had Pru. Sort of.

"And as much as I appreciate your efforts." Which she did, in her own way. "I might as well warn you that your efforts are entirely wasted upon me. Perhaps one day I will heed the wisdom of your words. But until then..."

Lorelai lifted the glass to her lips and took a very large gulp of liquor, practically chocking herself as she swallowed the mouthful down.

"Oh my stars. Where are my manners?" she said wiping her mouth with the back of her free hand, before taking a hold of the glass with it so that she could offer her right hand to the man. "My name is Lorelai. Lorelai Lee. It's only right and proper that you know the name of the soul you are trying to save."

She smiled at him as kindly as she could but the smile never reached her eyes. The blue orbs looked tired, bloodshot and devoid of any real emotion. The 'windows to the soul' were a more than accurate depiction of how she felt, though it was fair to say that anyone looking at her could have gleamed that information from any other facet of her appearance too.