t o o much <open>

[potter]

Really, she couldn't be bothered to give a damn.

Elliot had gone past the point of being tipsy, beyond merry, and had proceeded into the realm of being entirely shitfaced. Though really, she didn't care. She didn't care that the room was spinning, that she would likely suffer from a killer hangover the next day, all Elliot knew was now that she was happy. Maybe a little too happy, but she felt the giddiest she had been in a long while. "Innnit wonderful," said Elliot to no one in particular, her speech slurred from drink. She had just finished her fifth firewhiskey, not caring that she might make herself throw up, signalled to the barkeep for another.

The young man looked quite skeptical, though nevertheless fulfilled her request, dropping it in front of her with a "Take it easy after this one, all right?" Elliot beamed up at him and hiccuped, a long piece of jet black hair falling into her face. "Thanks fer the-" hiccup "concern," said Elliot, in her drunkenness forking over seven galleons instead of sickles for her beverage. As the barkeep walked away Elliot sloppily sucked down the whole of her sixth firewhiskey, sloshing about half it down her front. She giggled, putting the empty mug back on the table.

She pushed back her chair, staggering up into a standing position, giggling again as she got the feeling that the world was spinning around her. Partly because she was drunk, and partly because she didn't eat anything that day. Elliot, however, didn't care. She began dancing in a teetering way although there wasn't any music. Sure, she had had too much to drink, though Elliot wasn't thinking about anything, not stressed about anything, and that was the greatest thing in the whole world.