hh_mirror

Toki peers out of the Hufflepuff doorway and takes a cautious look around. No lobsters. Good. He's been virtually locked in his room for a while, absolutely terrified that the horrible, horrible crustaceans were going to attack him at any moment. But he's run out of booze, and that has to be fixed. He skitters down the hallway, keeping a wary eye out, and in a stroke of luck finds the Little Green Apple open.

Chiana is leaning back in her chair, pleasantly buzzed on a combination of margaritas and something or other in the hookah, she didn't catch the name. But hey, as long as it works, the name isn't important. She's busy using a hatchet that she had snurched from outside to carve a vaguely obscene drawing in the table.

Toki grabs a beer, chugs it, grabs another, chugs that one, and starts trying to stuff them down his shirt. No way he's letting anyone take it from him between here and his room. But his attention wanders over to the sound of the carving, and then he notices that the girl doing the carving is gray. Not pale, gray. With... really weird eyes. "Is you some kinds of cat lady?"

Chiana jerks from her carving and attempts to hide the hatchet. "Nah, I'm a Nebari. Chiana. All that beer for you?"

"Neeebree." Toki sounds out the unfamiliar word, mangling it as usual. "Yeah, I runs out. I'm Toki. Hufflepuff perfect." He points at the hatchet as best as he can with the armfuls of beer bottles. "Where you gets that?"

"What, this? Outside." She grins. "Pretty drad, huh?"

"Hatchets is metal," Toki agrees.

"Hey, wanna see something cool? Bet I can knock one of those bottles off your head with it."

Toki is not blessed with an overabundance of wisdom, nor is he completely sober at the moment. "I bets you a hundred dollars you can't!" And he sets an empty bottle on his head. Miraculously, it stays.

"You're on, 'stache boy. Watch." Chiana aims carefully, throws, and the result is about what you'd expect when drunks play with weapons.

And so it is that Chiana, dragging a squalling, panicking Toki with a hatchet in his forehead, blood pouring down his face, and beer soaking his clothes, arrive in the Hospital Wing.