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(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

[he takes it like a champ! good thing he wasn't drinking just then... because he's got to lean back and do the same to her. he ends up just kind of... hooking his arm around her shoulder and laughing, though.

man he is drunk.]

[She just lets it happen.]

I hope you can hold your liquor... or you are going to melt tomorrow.

[he shakes his head... but he does it with authority, so he must mean to the second question. he thinks, absently, about how nice and warm Hange is.

and then he leeeeans away and slides his arm off of her, because that's creepy and he shouldn't do that.]

[She just lets him do that, although she glances over a bit at the sudden shift in weight. She figures that it's more because he's a cold fish, though, not because of his chronic and acute crushitis, and grins... signalling to the bartender AGAIN:]

Another, please!

[great. who's drink is he holding? is it empty? he doesn't know. the momentary lapse is forgotten almost as fast as it happened.]

[Does it matter whose drink he's holding? The bartender is obligingly bringing them two more. Hange gives the class he's holding a tap with her finger.] One more swallow to down that, big guy!

[OH OKAY HE'S GOT IT THEN. he finishes his drink. he would feel accomplished if he could remember how many drinks he's had. he should probably stop.]

[She swigs her new drink, on the other hand. She doesn't seem worried... about anything, at the moment.]

What do you see? With those eyes of yours.

[squints... what the hell is her liver made out of?]

My eyes are... [okay, okay. let him just slump on the bar a little more and jab the counter with his finger. it's helping him explain, okay.] Vampires do this thing where... Normal people look at them doing impossible things and their brains automatically... dismiss it as something else. Mine doesn't do that. I see them and the... stuff that surrounds them.

Ha ha... I see! What a perfect predator... they can't see it? They hide in plain sight from the people they hunt...

[he casually (and drunkenly) tries to shove his hand in her face to get her to stop looking like that. he might... completely miss.]

Umf. [Lucky boy, he doesn't miss. After a second she licks his hand, though.]

[and, after a second... he takes his hand back.]

Ugh. [and wipes it on his pants.]

[Lordy. She belly laughs.]

You're a good boy, right? In spite of being a sourpuss?

[still wiping his hand off on his pant leg, he just kind of... looks over at her in vague confusion. what the hell is that supposed to mean?]

[She laughs and cuffs him.] When are we gonna see your little friend?

[his attention follows where she's moved, a little slow on the uptake.]

I don't know.

You like Nunnally? You like our ship?

[rubbing the back of his neck again...]

She's nice.

She's a sweetheart! There must be some kind of way to get her more mobile. Some kind of tech here.

[he nods a little in... agreement? he doesn't exactly have any suggestions, though.]

What about you, champ? Are you feeling all right?

[uuuuuugh why is she asking so many hard questionnnssssss...

he just... hunches further and further over the bar while scratching his fingers through his hair with that sort of ungraceful intensity that comes from not being able to feel his own scalp very well.]

[She pats him on the back. You know, she doubts this will work but she doesn't say anything. Maybe he just needs to mull it over a little.

He's probably NOT GOING TO SAY ANYTHING and she'll have to squeeze him a little more, but in the meantime she slurps down more of her drink.]

[surprise, surprise. give him enough time to let it sit, and he can at least come up with a coherent opinion.]

It's different...

[it's hard to tell if he's getting upset; he kind of exists in this perpetual state of anxiety anyway, so if this is bothering him, it doesn't show much more than usual.]