#but this all sparked from thinking of Pris not so soberly talking to a /lamp/ like it was a person xD

[herstoriies]

drunk :   my  muse  takes  care  of  your  muse  while  they  are  in  a  drunken  state.

some  one  word  prompts . Accepting !!

On an evening of reverie and no performances until evenings later, it was only too easy in Paris to lose track of one’s cups. Especially when galavanting from one lounge and restaurant to the next, and when dashing dandy insisted on treating the lovely ladies to another bottle of whatever was the most expensive. One too many champagnes later… was one too many champagnes. Priscilla was already a handful when sober, and when one would hope she would be more mellow on this state… one could only sigh, if only. She was as bubbly as the champagne itself, only three times as impulsive, and could laugh at everything remotely witty, but only at a fraction of energy to actually do anything…

“Oh, but dearest Thera, the night, la nuit! It is still young! Why return so soon and not watch the dawn’s daylight break?” It was half past 2am. “There is a lovely… ah, what’s the place called…” Who knew. “You know, that chap I bumped into just before we left was rather handsome. I wonder if he frequents there often.” Priscilla you bumped into a lamp, apologized to it, and said ‘you have a very fine hat, tres avant-garde, my good Monsieur.’

“On second thought, belay that.” Priscilla stopped on their promenade, more heavily leaning on her dearest friend for support, Thera, who was in fact a lifesaver. “I think it best, that…” and just like that, she was out.

Once returned to her proper state of mind on the morrow, she would repeatedly profusely express her gratitude to Thera. But for now, a good nights rest was due.