OUTOFCHARACTER: [blockquote]Tessera 49, 81383 [p] for Enny. [m] for sexual content and violence. 'We are nowhere, and it's now' - Bright Eyes! Yay! So I stole your blockquoting cos I love it. I didn't even know you could do that, it's amazing. :D Anyway, hope this post is okay. It's not my best (I couldn't focus) but it's a good start.[/blockquote] INCHARACTER:[blockquote]If you hate the taste of wine Why do you drink it until you're blind? And if you swear that there's no truth and who cares How come you say it like you're right? Half-lidded, his eyes quietly surveyed the cold, wet scene outside. Despite the roof over his head, he was getting wet. Rain, heavy and full, had begun to fill his eyes, brimming at the cusp and then dangling on the length of his lashes. Eventually there were dark rivulets staining his cheeks. Deciding that he wasn't going to stay dry that evening no matter how much he tried, Ploy got off the stale motel bed and walked out the creaking door with his jacket strung on one finger. He might need it later. Why are you scared to dream of God When it's salvation that you want? You see stars that clear have been dead for years But the idea just lives on The soft susurrus of voices blending, compared to the deafening quiet of his motel room, was an immediate solace. Walking forward to an empty booth, the large arden brought with him the scent of fresh earth and dyo, and undoubtedly caused a few heads to turn. Not only was he formidable in height, he was also drenched from head-to-toe and looked as if he'd just arrived from a funeral with such a somber expression. The heavy network of scars lacing his face like fine art didn't seem to help either. But he went along like normal, ignorant of the stares in his wake. "A whiskey, please." In our wheels that roll around As we move over the ground And all day it seems we've been in between The past and future town Sucking in the sorrow that was clenching his gut, a sullen Ploy sat back in his booth with his lips to the glass. He drank until all those voices slurred. Or maybe it was his that was slurring.[/blockquote]
Blockquoting ftw. [blockquote]God help me I've come undone It was turning out to be one of those days that made Eirik drowsy and depressed. More than usual, but that actually wasn't all that hard to accomplish. His small, quaint little apartment was feeling more and more crowded as the day drew on even though he was the only one there. Papers or sketches and music sheets were strewn about, instruments lay collecting dust in every corner of the room. It bugged him. He felt like cleaning even if his home wasn't all that dirty. Or maybe he'd just go out and get some fresh air. He hated the rain but at the same time liked it because it was soothing and sometimes helped him fall asleep when he was more troubled than usual. It was his friend and enemy, just like everything else in his dull, lonely life. Now that was depressing. One day he figured he'd be happy. For now he'd just go out and drink himself into some delusion of happiness; at least nursing a hangover gave him something to do for a little while. Thinking about it like that was probably a sad sign. He grabbed his jacket on the way out the door and slipped it on before he stepped out into the rain. He left like he had some place to go, but he really didn't know where he'd end up. Eventually Eirik found himself moving tensely through a crowd to move toward the bar and quickly order himself a couple strong shots. He wanted to drown out everything as quick as he could, obviously, and he succeeded soon enough. After a short time the arden sat there and ordered another drink while mispronouncing the name of the drink, slightly swaying back and forth on the bar stool. But as usual, even drunk he seemed to keep to himself nervously. Maybe that's why he was downing drinks like they were the cure to the plague. And after a while he found himself beginning to care less and less as his thoughts became more unclear and jumbled. Just the way he liked it these days. He slowed down on his drinks and sat there gazing around the room, possibly looking for a "friend". But damn it all if he couldn't gather the courage to get up and hit on someone still. If only someone would come to him. He turned back to the bar and downed yet another shot, setting the small glass back down onto the shiny counter top with a slightly loud clank. Out of the light of the sun[/blockquote]
OUTOFCHARACTER: [blockquote]I'm going to apologize in advance if this post is a little hazy.[/blockquote] INCHARACTER:[blockquote]"Shibla, shibla." Ploy shut his eyes tight. He was holding back a grimace as the last drink went down, all the while cussing like the distraught, drunken sailor he was. His lips parted, he bared his teeth a second longer, and then gave his entire body a shake. It was always the last ones that started to make you feel a little weary with the world. They always had a bitter sting to them so as to remind you of how you'd be feeling later. Ironic, really. For a long while he sat with his face buried in his palms, eyes partially shut and lips wagging, muttering something with apparent contempt. Then, suddenly, his words stopped short. The dog sat there silently, ears folded back and expression serene like he was filled with thought. Just as abruptly as he'd stopped, he started up again with a sardonic little laugh, then walked over to the bar for the last time that evening. He ordered a drink. Or, at least, he made an attempt to. Although he'd made the request, it wasn't really going through. The barkeep was in a verbal tiff with another patron and likely wasn't going to cede soon. Grunting, Ploy made the request a second time, this time more loudly, and then sat down on an adjacent stool. He waited. And waited. And waited. And just as he came to realize his shot had long since arrived, some fella' just yanked it right from under his nose. Ploy's bright eyes widened at first, but then he turned his gaze onto Eirik solemnly.[/blockquote]
[blockquote]God help me I've come undone There was a lot going on in the bar at the moment. The thing that was making him the most nervous was the barkeep arguing with someone; they could've moved off and argued elsewhere instead of rudely drawing attention and making people like Eirik sit there tensely as he waited for them to stop. So nervous was he that he ended up taking a drink that wasn't him without noticing... and he never did notice until he turned and saw an arden sitting next to him and looking at him. Eir couldn't help but jump a little at the realization that he wasn't at all alone there at the counter. And he shifted uneasily before looking to the now-empty shot glass he held in his shaking hand before he realized he'd stolen from the poor drunken fellow. "O-oh, jeez..." he started, not saying enough to slur that much but he was obviously apologetic. "M'sorry, was tha' yours?" But then he stopped caring because it wasn't that serious. He just turned to the bartender and barked out an order for a couple more shots, beginning to lose his timid nature the more the alcohol set in his quivering stomach. "Nn... sorry 'bout that..." Eir turned back to Ploy slightly, peering at him from behind dark sunglasses, which he apparently wore no matter if it was day or night or whether he was outside or inside. He watched the stranger somewhat wearily, trying to gauge his reaction to having his drink stolen but quickly replaced with another one... or two, depending on if he decided it'd be right to take Eir's next shot, too. He didn't care either way. Out of the light of the sun[/blockquote]
OUTOFCHARACTER:[blockquote]You know you want to reply this like nowwww XD[/blockquote] INCHARACTER:[blockquote]No sooner had the barkeep set down the shot glasses than Ploy swooped up the pair in one hand. Keeping one close by on the counter, he took back the other shot with an animated dip of his head. He was about to move onto to the next, really not taking much of a breather, when he paused and gave Eirik a sidelong glance. Whether or not it was intentionally menacing, Ploy had the look of an ax-murderer - what with all the scars and all. And despite the fact that his blood could've probably seconded as nail polish remover, the blind ass being so damned drunk, he managed to keep from swaggering. Just as the peer began to turn into a stare the pendragon's lips curled into a smug little smirk. "Come 'ere, take yer shhhhhhot." He held the still full glass in one knobby hand while beckoning the stranger with the other. If Eirik made any motion to steal the drink from Ploy, he would likely find that the older arden's reflexes were still good as sober... almost. In any case, it was clear that Ploy wasn't going to give up the shot without some sort of torture. He raised the small glass in the air and tipped it slightly enough not to pour, but enough to get across the message. Eirik was either going to have to be fed a shot or maybe... well, who knows what would happen if a rejection ensued. Likely a bear fight.[/blockquote]
You know it... and so I did. lD [blockquote]I'll keep you alive Needless to say, before anything is said, the reaction Eirik got was definitely not the one he was expecting. And that is to say he thought this guy would perhaps go psycho on him for taking his drink if his looks were anything to go by. Naturally Eir was a little taken aback by the scars that littered the stranger's face and if it weren't for those marks he'd likely be such a handsome male... a little manly for his taste, but male nonetheless. And it was all the more surprising when both shots were taken(he had a feeling that would happen) and the arden seemed to want to play some sort of game. The odd smirk gave that away along with the more obvious signs and motions... at first, Eirik gave Ploy the oddest of drunken looks, one eye narrowed, lip unevenly pulled up showing off just a fang. A very attractive look, no doubt. But he hadn't the dignity in this state to really care about anything let alone some husky stranger wanting to play shot games with him. Maybe he'd found that friend. And so he didn't want to say no... perhaps it was the ever looming fear of getting the scarred arden angry, perhaps it was the fact that he wanted that damn shot that made him move toward Ploy. Not to take the glass from him(for he could obviously easily overpower Eirik even if he was drunk, and being drunk didn't help the younger guy at all) but to allow him to do his little game of torture. Though it wasn't much torture to Eir, he was interacting with someone that piqued his interest. And he was shitfaced drunk, so yea. He made a gesture that told Ploy to go ahead, tipping his head up and parting his jaws and hoping that the arden wasn't just being a tease. Or that he wasn't just gonna dump it on his face. He didn't feel like running home and crying into his pillow. If you show me the way[/blockquote]
OUTOFCHARACTER:[blockquote]I'm going to back-date this a little so it's closer to the Fronima flux (: And haha, have you seen Zoolander? I’m totally thinking “BLUE STEEL” about Eirik’s look.[/blockquote] INCHARACTER:[blockquote]Eirik was a little manly for his taste, too. But with a head full of colliding letters and a heart full of longing, Ploy didn't even once question the other's company. He'd lost someone that morning and the solace of another's presence was everything that he wanted. So, the choice was there and Eirik had taken the bait. Ploy grinned that lop-sided grin of his for the very first time that day, unable to keep from finding Eirik’s ridiculous expression just a little bit funny. Cute would be overstepping it, at least on most nights. But yeah, he was shit-faced drunk. So maybe it was a tad cute. Not that Ploy would ever admit that. Arden were not his thing. And yet when he angled the glass’s rim against the other’s ajar lips and let it spill, there must’ve been something there that piqued his interest. Smiling smugly he pulled the emptied glass away swiftly and smashed it on the ground with a bark, not minding the dirty look the bartender gave him. Nor would he mind the scowl Eirik would give him for having fished off his sunglasses while pulling the glass away. "G'boy!" Ahhh, drunk shenanigans. The dog smirked an 8-shot smile and then hopped off his stool, making a quick, slightly staggering, escape to his… booth. Not five feet away. And if he managed to make it there, it was likely that he would then just sit and look slick, what with his new sunglasses perched on his chiselled maw. If not… well, if not (:[/blockquote]
It's like that except worse. xD Maybe I'll draw it sometime. [blockquote]God help me I've come undone Eirik would've been more than happy to keep playing stupid little games, but Ploy had to go and do something so stupid. He nearly choked on the shot that was fed to him when he felt his precious sunglasses get snatched right off his face. He leaned forward and the alcohol slipped from his lips and between his fingers as he tried not to choke, sharp eyes looking up and watching Ploy make his way back to the booth he'd sat in before. And Eir was not a happy 'dragon. Sitting there with his spit-up alcohol pants and a wet hand and no sunglasses to hide behind. He gingerly wiped his hand on his already slightly wet pant leg and stood up, making his way less gracefully over to Ploy's booth. He stopped abruptly and leaned forward, reaching out and snatching his sunglasses back right off the arden's scarred face. He didn't look pleased and a glare made itself very present on his feminine face. He didn't put his sunglasses back on, for fear of them breaking of Ploy chose to deck him in the face for not being a good sport. Nobody messed with the glasses. And with that he turned around and tried to decide if he wanted to leave or sit back down at the bar for another couple drinks to calm himself down. But he didn't want to stay just in case the scarred male decided to get rough... he didn't feel like getting into a fight tonight. He was too drunk to do shit about it. So he headed toward the door, his tail twitching and swaying like an irritated cat's tail, the bright blue flame flickering anxiously at the tip. Out of the light of the sun[/blockquote]
