driftfleet | (no subject)

Who: Zhas & You!!
Broadcast: None (probably)
Action: Planetside OR Red Fish
When: Forward dated to the 31st, late at night

► PLANET-SIDE

[back home, Zhas had a long-standing tradition of not working on Halloween. he gets totally into it. he puts on his best "normal person" costume and goes out and parties and drinks and talks to the locals like he actually belongs there. it's the one day a year he doesn't obsessively hunt down monsters or worry about his slowly-decaying family.

he may be lightyears away from home, on a planet with no vampires or any proper Halloween festivities, but like hell he's going to let that get in the way of his traditional day off. he can be found hanging around town, dressed in a nondescript black shirt, not covered in weapons, and not wearing any facepaint. he might be kind of hard to recognize--though his eyes are still glowing an unsettling, jack-o-lantern orange under the dim, clouded night sky.

oh, and there's blood on his face. his nose was bleeding, or something. he apparently hasn't noticed. actually, to be completely honest, he's kind of having trouble noticing that he's going to run into things until he nearly stumbles over them. once or twice he has to like, hold his hands out to navigate around a lamp-post. dude's pretty drunk.]

► RED FISH

[...unless you're on the Red Fish. he's cleaned up his face, but he's sort of tipsily putting ingredients together in the kitchen and messing around with the microwave? seriously, he accidentally brushed flour off on his shirt, like, what is he even doing. this is probably how fires start.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Cecil only wishes she was utterly wasted after the discovery she made today:

Barakiel is gone.

And with him, a lot of her strength to not be overwhelmed by her emotions at least once a day went too.

She's mostly roaming the emptier of the streets by herself, wondering if the angel has gone back to Court, or...

Well, her eyes on the ground, but she looks up when she sees another pair of feet off to her left, not making the surest of steps. She doesn't recognize the young man, but the sight of blood catches her eye immediately and she walks over to him. ]

Excuse me— are you all right?

[he's pulled out of his little world of distortion and stars and empty nerves when someone asks him something. he looks over at her, a little confused, familiar orange eyes blinking and squinting while he tries to remember what she just asked him.

she looks really familiar, though. hasn't he talked to her before? he tilts his head a little, seemingly oblivious to the blood on his face.]

[ It takes her about another moment to realize she's seen those unique eyes before, but once she does, the rest begins to fall into place and she recognizes more of his face than just the color and brightness of his eyes-- the shape of them, bone structure, hair color...

She's just accustomed to seeing it all slathered in black and white. ]

...Z?

Oh.

[his voice is a little startling. deep, heavy, rough, very monotone. if it came out of a normal person, it'd be kind of surreal, but this guy... it'd match the face, if he were wearing it...]

It's Zhas.

[he thinks he remembers. the annoying girl who wouldn't leave him alone.]

Zhas? Why didn't you just say so before?

[ True to form, she's not put off by his voice (if it were softer or smoother or higher in pitch, it'd probably be far more startling) and she starts walking towards him.

She's actually dressed rather differently than she normally is, in the clothes she was brought to the fleet in, all silver and red and golds. Maybe it's that or maybe it's the finery or maybe it's something else, but he's probably picking up a much more dynamic aura from her now. She's deeply distressed for one thing, even if she hides it well.

She takes hold of the edge of her cape and gently, cautiously begins to reach out for him. The movement is slow, largely because she expects him to either hit her again or pull away, and she wants to communicate that she's not trying to take that choice away from him. ]

[well, it takes him a very long time to do... anything. his sense of personal space isn't quite right. he lets her get very close before he tilts his head away, ducking out of the way of her hand.

he keeps squinting at her, confused.]

What are you doing.

[ She might have managed to wipe some of the blood on him off with her cape then, but she doesn't follow him once he pulls away. ]

I think the better question is, "What are you doing?"

[ She's starting to believe he knocked into a lamp-post and gave himself a bloody nose, honestly. ]

[maybe. his hand goes up to check for what's usually facepaint; the pattern is so inscribed in his muscle memory that he knows just how to run his finger to fix it.

but then, of course, he remembers that he's not wearing facepaint, and that something that just came off of his face is the wrong color... and... he looks kind of perplexed by this revelation until, suddenly--]

Oh, I got in a fight.

[ She quirks a brow, skeptically. ]

It's hard to believe that any of the people here decided fighting with a guest of theirs they were so eager to meet just days ago was a good idea. Are you certain you didn't just run into a wall?

[ It's a legitimate question! ]

[well, he... deadeyes her over where he's pinching the bridge of his nose now.

he did not run into a wall.]

...A lamp-post?

[ She looks mildly concerned. ]

The hull of a ship?

[...wait, no, hang on, just hold still so that he can step closer and slug her in the shoulder.]

[ O-Ow. She wrinkles her nose a little and swats at his fist after the hit lands. ]

Stop being such a child. You're not at home anymore. No one cares who you were or what you did there, and like it or not, we're all in this together.

[ She loses steam very quickly though and takes a step back, putting more space between them in preparation to walk away. ]

Forget I asked. I'll leave you to it.

Edited 2014-11-03 05:04 (UTC)

[and you know what? he looks genuinely taken aback by what she says. an expression actually makes it onto his face, accompanied by him raising his arms in utter, albeit consistently monotone, confusion.]

What the fuck are you talking about.

Why would I waste my breath trying to explain?

[ She almost scoffs. ]

As I said, forget I said anything. I'm sure that won't be a challenge for you.

[ And she's walking away. ]

[well, he... would love to chalk this one up to "girls are weird" and call it a night, but this seems beyond the usual range. he wants to ask out honest confusion what she is going on about and what he did to deserve such a reception, but... he's slow and she's already walking away and he's still doubling back on everything that she's said.

so she gets to walk away. another time, Cecil.]