roxy/ar sadstuck

It was hopeless. It was hopeless and she knew it.

Roxy spun around in her computer chair, foot idly brushing on her rifle every time it passed by. She was drunk, of course - seldom, lately, was she sober - and she was really fucking bored. Bored and upset. Like usual.

She'd been thinking about it for a long time. Her 'relationship' with Dirk. The one that didn't technically exist. She'd approached it from every possible angle she could think of, often wading in even the deepest aspects of psychological pools that, realistically, she had no business even sticking her pink bikini'd ass into. Notebooks had been filled with various concepts, various methods of bringing the idea up to him. Every single one of them was a failure. Deep in her heart she had known this - but she refused to believe it.

Until today. For some reason she'd decided that a lot of the plots she had conceived - specifically the ones where somehow convinced(('tricked' was a more apt term)) the stupid blonde into going on a date with her - deserved one more peek-over. And she'd come to the very underwhelming conclusion that none of them would work. She even very, very briefly flirted with the idea of just flat-out telling him that they were a thing and forcing him to deal with it. She'd decided against it, obviously. She wasn't that desperate.

She realized, though, that she was. Coping with this fact was seriously harshing her buzz, and she got up to gather herself another drink. Taking a deep breath and stumbling across her room, she pulled a few bottles out of a new stash in one of her sock drawers, and mixed herself a gin and tonic. It was simple, but it'd help get her going again. She hated feeling like this. She stirred it with her pinky and ambled back to her desk.

When she logged onto Pesterchum and opened a pester with Dirk, she had to convince herself that she wasn't going to mention her feelings. She couldn't. She couldn't compromise things. She'd be happy with their paleness. It'd work out just fine.

-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] --
TG: ehhehehyyy
TT: You're fucking drunk.
TT: Imagine my irresistable features all turned up in a look of surprise.
TG: succitnct as ever today arent u

His brashness seldom bothered her anymore. Maybe if she could convince herself that it bothered her enough...

TT: I'm always "succitnct". If I was any less "succitnct" I don't think you'd actually ever know your own mental state.
TG: ehya yeah im drunk what hte shiftlipping fuck does it amtter
TG: *shitflipping
TT: Consider all the lips shifted. Or shifts lipped.
TT: Are you here to waste my time or do you have anything useful to bring to my attention?
TG: u neevr just want to talk
TG: ur always soooooooo busy w/ur shit
TG:  thugth we were cool dirk
TT: Cool as ice. Forgive me though for stating the obvious fact that you never have anything you actually want to talk about.
TT: That isn't about gratuitous baby-making.
TG: sooooo wahaaat
TG: yuo could play along u know
TT: It seems you're asking me to allow you to indulge in some ridiculous fantasy about the two of us.
TT: Not sure I'm down with that, Rox.
TG: wiat
TG: *wat
TG: **wait
TG: fuckign

She angrily ground the heels of her hands into her eyes, smearing her makeup and giving a loud groan. Of course. It was the fucking AR. She had to have noticed. She should have.

TT: You okay there, Madame Hooch?
TG: i knwo ur teh ar
TG: where is taht asshole anywya
TG: ive gotta bone to pick w/him
TG: adn not even in the fun wya either
TT: It seems you've seen through my clever disguise.
TT: Well done. Maybe you're not as drunk as I initially figured.
TG: shut up wehres dirk
TG: its imrporntant
TG: *geniunly awesome typo
TT: Otherwise preoccupied with things more 'imporntant' than what you have to bother him with.
TT: He's making his move currently.

Oh, fuck. Roxy felt a little pang in her heart, biting her lip to suppress the sudden dejection she felt. She knew it was nothing personal. She convinced herself of it long ago. It had been inevitable. Granted, she mostly knew Jake wouldn't reciprocate but that really would just make Dirk want it all the more, wouldn't it?

And poor Roxy would still be left out of the big picture. At least Jane might come out of this whole ordeal on top. She took a long drink from her glass.

"Then sssssomeone'd be happy, huh?" Bitter smile. As long as her bestie made it out okay. She felt really sorry for Jane, actually. She hadn't the foggiest of ideas that Dirk had wanted to say something to Jake about his feelings. Jane had been quietly whiling away her time, thinking she had endless amounts of it to confess something to the naïve English. Roxy had... really, really wanted to say something to her. She actually had planned on it. But it was obviously too late. Time, as it seemed, was ever-elusive to them all. Except for fucking.... Dirk.

TG: forgett it then
TG: ihs best brolita can wait
TG: i G U E SS

By now, AR had switched to his trademark red font. It comforted her a little, not having to continually be on her drunken guard as to whether or not she was being cold to the wrong being.

TT: There there, princess.

Her hands crept up to her  head, hands loosely fisting in her hair as she rest on her elbows, blowing her bangs out of her face. Fucksicles, today sucked.

TT: Why don't you go pester Jane? I'm sure you could find  something interesting to chat it up about with her.
TG: no juts gonna tell her taht her hearts gonna be broken
TG: totes all gettign my  bestie 4evs merit badge w/tht one
TT: Wait.
TT: What do you mean?

Roxy frowned. But she supposed Jane never really had many meaningful conversations with Dirk. It was usually business between the two of them, wasn't it? And even still, why would Jane confess something like that to... someone like him? Should she tell the AR? It seemed rather harmless to do so at this point. Miss Zipperlips could take the day off. It wouldn't change anything.

TG: what do u mena waht do i mean
TG: jane has a thign for jake
TG: she ahs for a w hile
TT: Are you fucking serious?
TG: isnt thihs a starttlign revelation huh
TG: plot thickens etc
TG: totes dont see any harm n tellign u tho
TG: nothigns gonna change
TG: i juts feel bad for jaen
TT: I see.
TG: sec

Rubbing at one of her eyes, she opened up the folder of pesterlogs on her computer. Each one was sorted by the chum she was talking to. The filename also contained a brief, one to two-word summary of what the conversation was about. Dirk had a special folder all his own... sometimes, when she was really bored or desperate, she'd go through them - correcting all the typos, reading them over and over again, trying to think of ways she could have approached the situation to maybe admit her feelings to him. Trying to pinpoint exactly when and where she sealed her lonely fate. She opened one of the more recent logfiles with Jane, copying the text that concerned her and Jake. She pasted it into the window with AR. There was a long pause.

TT: Ah.
TT: That sucks a big one for her, doesn't it?
TG: ya it deos
TG: yoru dispassiontate reply speaks volumes sir
TG: i csn see now that dirk diddnt not program u w/emotions
TG: u just actuaully dont have any
TG: ellin my a off
TG: ironigally
TG: *ironically
TT: I've got plenty of emotions. I just don't have any particularly strong ones for Jane or her plight.
TT: It sucks a big ugly cock that she's probably shit out of luck here.
TT: But there's nothing much I can do about it.
TT: I could tell Jake, but that'd be pointless.
TT: I could console Jane, but that'd also be pointless.
TT: She had ample opportunities to say something to Jake, but she didn't.
TT: It's her own fault, Roxy.
TG: btu i could have said somethign

She bit her knuckle, her leg bouncing on the floor. This conversation was upsetting her. Not just because of Dirk being a giant flaming docuhebag, but because of the whole prospect of not telling Jane. Well, both of those things.

TT: And you didn't because you had your reasons. It's whatever, Roxy. It's not your fault. It isn't your job to be some mysterious intergalactic relationship mediator.
TT: Some hella ironic mistress of the stars that keeps things savvy between two people in their struggle to be together.
TG: engouh AR
TG: u dont haev to remind me of my palemess
TG: *paleness
TT: Seriously, Rox. Chill. You're putting yourself through the ringer and you don't need to.
TT: Calm those nice tits of yours down.
TG: lol wht
TG: tyvm i guess tho
TT: I call 'em like I see 'em.

She wasn't even going to ask if he'd seen the pictures she'd sent Dirk. Because she knew that he had. They hadn't been dirty or anything, just dumb pictures of her laying around her room or being quite proud of how many martini glasses she could stack in a pyramid. Quite the bold move, though, commenting on her rack and such. She wasn't complaining. Seemed strange, though.

TT: Honestly, though. Is there a reason for your pestering or should I break out the Pretend-to-Give-a-Fuck-erator?
TG: wow dirk ahs a robot for everything doesnt he
TG: no im godo now
TG: totes got my fill of sasss for today thakns
TG: if i need my selfesteem kcked back a few more ntocvhes though ill let u know
TG: *notcehs
TG: *fuck
TT:  Go drink some water or something, Lalonde.
TT: I'll talk to you later, princess.
-- timaeusTestified [TT] has ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] --

A dry huff left her as the AR closed the chat, Roxy standing from her computer and taking up her drink with her. Water? Pfeh. She was fine. Well, by the standards of how much alcohol she had consumed, she was fine. Mentally she was irked and emotionally she was upset, but that was surprisingly nothing new, as previously mentioned. Maybe she would head into the kitchen, though, and find something to eat. She'd brought a box of crackers up earlier but discovered they'd been stale, and had lamented this for about ten minutes while looking through her notebooks.

She jogged down the stairs, slamming the rest of her gin and tonic to deposit the empty glass into the sink. Her mother must have been in the study, because Roxy saw neither hide nor hair of the woman as she raided the cupboards for something to satisfy her hunger. A few quick sweeps brought up the prospect of sammich-makins, and so she began the tedious task of preparing a  ham-and-cheese for herself while swaying where she stood at the counter.

Midway though her arduous task, her mother approached the kitchen. Roxy, in her drunkenness, hadn't heard the click of the shallow heels. She did, however, feel the set of hands on her shoulders; she felt the almost compulsive, 'i'm doing this because i'm your mother and i feel like it's something i should do' kiss to the top of her head. She dropped the butter knife she held, eyes widening a bit. Every encounter with her mother was a chore. Their tedious relationship was better left untested. In her current state of inebriation, Roxy sensed a dire challenge swiftly approaching.

"Mother," she greeted quietly, picking up the knife again and finishing the distribution of mayo to a slice of the bread.

"Roxy." The reply was a shade warmer than curt, and the blonde teen could feel the anxiousness in her mother's tone. The cougar wasn't much for social interaction with her daughter, either. Standing next to her though, she eyed the sandwich with a bit of an upturned nose.

"You're going to get fat, Roxy." She waved her hand over the plate. "Stuffing yourself with things like this." These were her parting sentiments, and she sauntered out of the kitchen in much of the same fashion that she arrived in.

And suddenly, the blonde was no longer hungry. Angrily tossing her prepared meal into the fridge, she stormed back upstairs; into the bathroom where she slammed the door behind her. Roxy was not one to take her mother's words to heart, but something about the backhanded comment had really upset her. She sat on the lid of the closed toilet, head in her hands. This was so like her mom. A meddler. Always finding some way to piss her daughter off to perfectly fuck up her day. Well, further fuck up. She didn't realize she was crying until she felt the warm, salty liquid on her hands, pulling them back to eye the makeup smears on them. She'd really have to invest in more waterproof mascara. She stood, sniveling to herself and muttering under her breath, various words like 'fat' and a sneery 'mother' heard.