[sub][h3][center]Nicholas[/center][/h3][/sub][hr]

Nicholas Adair had several possible outcomes in mind when he left the dance to venture into the woods. Perhaps he would've lost his gumption to ever return to society. He figured he may have just kept walking until he flattened himself into a stain on the inside of The Promise's hull. With luck, maybe he could've been the first human to be consumed by the ship's indigenous squirrels. Or, ever so slightly more realistically, he'd get killed in the next unscrupulous incident aboard the ship.

Maybe it said something about his character that in attempting to escape his own perspective and anxieties, telling himself he wanted to be alone, he actually seemed to have zeroed in on a group of teenagers who looked like they were pregaming for shooting a slasher film. Pretty girls. Dudes who were.. well, dudes. He didn't hold any strong opinions toward their appearance but saw one who looked like even more of a fish out of water than he did.

Piercing his internal monologue as though it was cast in hot wax, a voice like a siren, blistering with clarity called out to him. "Hey you! Want a shot?" But there was no one in front of him, he was yards away from anybody. Then he saw her, a dark haired angel. For the first time since he'd boarded the ship, it really felt like he was tumbling through space.

She was looking at him. [i]Had he been staring at her and zoning out at the same time?[/i] Nic didn't know that people could do that. Then again, he wasn't used to being around people his own age without the explicit instructions of running surveillance. Surveillance! That's it! His subconscious had made him focus on the girl and analyze her. That made sense. Well... it almost made sense. If that were the case he didn't understand why he hadn't inferred anything meaningful about her. [I]God, I'm an idiot.[/I]

After he had hung his smile slack-jawed for a minute, trying to unravel his own web of dumbassery, he felt the first real duchenne of the day roll across his lips and curl his eyes.

[B]"Why, thank you! I can't think of anything that sounds better right now."[/B]

And it was true. Just a little something to take the edge off would be nice. If he just shaved off the progress he'd spent the last two years making, it'd mean that he wouldn't pose a threat to the partygoers and it would mean that he would finally be normal. Kinda. Being abnormal was part of what qualified you as belonging here so in a cruel twist of fate it would actually make him the deviant.

[I]Fuck it. It always seemed inevitable that I'd rinse myself out up here anyhow. I thought I could rise above my former crutch, that I'd overcome it, but nothing sounds sweeter than the sour sting of surrender as my darling depressants fix me, just for a bit.[/I]

[sub]"nah man, the alcohol was part of the old you. Just hang in there. Think about it from your perspective from tomorrow. You'll have overcome this. You'll be stronger.[/sub]

[I]I am so unbelievably sick of thinking of things from different perspectives. How cruel it is that my penchant for empathy serve as my penance.[/I]

He continued to think about it entirely too hard as he cleared the ground that stood between him and the girl that had invited him. She looked like a dream. He approached her with his head down, mildly shy before beaming at her, scooping up one of the Jello shots and holding it inches away from his chin. The gelatinous drink felt more structurally sound than his own willpower right now, he thought as it weighed upon his forearm like a dumbbell, burning in his hand like the sort of confession you only make when it's too late to make a difference.

"My name is Nicholas but people tend to like Nic better. I hope that the evening has been kind to you."