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Who: Zhas and whoever wants in on this grumpy trainwreck.
Broadcast: None probably.
Action: All day every day.
When: Forward dated to the dust moon because SOMEONE (me) can't be patient.

---

[gunning for the prestigious "first asshole to get irresponsibly drunk as soon as they land" award, there's this guy. he doesn't normally do this kind of thing, but it's been a spectacularly harrowing six months or so. he landed, took one look at this tiny town, and thought, "Nope. Not going to participate."

he has since been working hard to remove himself from the responsibility of being a functioning human being. is this a good idea? of course not. but he has reasons and he has a gnawing evil in his chest, and he'd love for one of them to just shut up for a while.

so, acquaintances will be surprised to find him out in the late evening, dressed up like a normal person and not covered in face paint. his eyes still have kind of a dim orange glow to them, but genetics can't be helped. anyone, friend or stranger, is welcome to find him either:

a. in the process of getting drunk (at the bar, hunched grumpily over his glass of bourbon)
b. getting into a fight (because the other guy... something... doesn't really matter anyway)
c. wandering the town streets (uncoordinated, content, and oblivious to a bad nosebleed)

on the bright side, the ratings he'll get from this will probably pay for his bar tab.]

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[From far down the street, Cassandra spots Zhas as he wobbles his way along. She watches him for a few long moments, at the way he could blend if he was walking properly, pleased in a very quiet way that his body language is clear enough to her at this point that she can recognize him at this distance when he looks so little like himself. Picking people out of crowds isn't a new skill, she's always been able to, but there's something special about Zhas.

She makes her way to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, to steady and to greet him.]

I'll help you.

[Because bro you need it.]

[at this point, Zhas is somewhere very far away. he's not running into people or tripping over his own feet, but he has lost much of the command and dexterity he usually carries. he's busy with numb eyes and the way strong lights leave streaks, the way the ground rolls under him like the moon really is round.

a moon, isn't that funny? underneath all those pretty, pretty stars, a billion burning suns so far away that half of them haven't even realize they've died ye--oh. there's a person. Zhas stops moving, but looks confused for several seconds longer than he should.]

Ah...

[...he doesn't get it.]

[She was mostly just intrigued, before. Curious. Now, seeing him looking at her that way, concern is starting to win out. She squeezes his shoulder gently, affectionately.]

Did something happen?

[Honestly, the last time they'd met in person had been in the shadowy corridor of an alien bug ship dead in the water of space; combined with Zhas' usual more...interesting getup, Megaman almost misses the guy in passing as he drifts down the same street himself, preoccupied with his own worries. The face paint had been the most memorable part, after all! And without it, well, Zhas seems like an almost entirely different person, especially to the untrained eye of a simple acquaintance.

Fortunately, though, Zhas still has his eyes going for him, and it's just beginning to tip close enough to evening for the lighting to give them away. The eyes had been memorable too, anyway, if only a bit less so than the skull paint--and so that's what snags Megaman's attention first, before the unsteady steps register second, and the hint of something red and wet around the nose sets in third. Startled, he pauses in his steps--and then changes direction without thinking, surprise shifting to mild alarm.]

Wait--Zhas? Whoa, are you okay? What--what happened? [Oh my god that sure is some blood WOW IT LOOKS...JUST AS BAD IN PERSON AS HE ALWAYS THOUGHT IT'D PROBABLY LOOK oh gross oh that's so unnatural--wait, no, rewind. Freaking out will probably not help things here. And...this is Zhas, right. He realizes his mistake halfway over to the guy, but at least Megaman has the decency to sign a haphazard 'You ok?' as he closes the distance.]

[well, there's blood all over his face. he's forgotten, by this point, but the question still makes him think and try to sort out what she could mean. he turns to look back up the street, in the direction he'd come from.]

Got in a fight.

[but he looks kind of happy(?) about that. is that what she meant?]

[for someone with blood all over his face, he seems entirely unperturbed by the small person approaching and freaking out about it. he stops walking, at least, looking very calmly down at him... but he remembers this guy, the little robot man who helped way back on the ship...]

What... [what he doesn't remember is how he pretended to be deaf the entire time. he tilts his head and lazily signs something one-handed and unreadable, ending with a question mark.]

I see that.

[And doesn't judge, honestly. She's going to be seeing her own fair share of fun brawl times on this little moon if Cass gets her say, but even as she's shaking her sleeve over her free hand so she can clear some of the blood from his face, that concern isn't really alleviated all that much.]

Were are you... going to, now? Your ship?

[he makes a little noise of discomfort, probably because his face hurts even under all of that buzzing--but he doesn't pull away from being fussed over. if anything, he holds very still for her.]

No, there's stars out... [he points up. stars.] S'was gonna... See them from somewhere empty.

[The hand on his shoulder slips to his neck, angling his head just a little towards the light so she can see what she's doing better. She may need another shirt after this.]

Somewhere empty... [With no lights, maybe. Even here the light from the tiny town drowns the stars out a little, so this makes sense. Sort of. His face is covered in blood and he's very, very drunk, but still wants to see stars more than rest or sleep. Not so much sense there.] The desert is empty. You'll get sandy, though.

[There's got to be some laundry left out somewhere, right? Maybe she can borrow a blanket.]

[he tips into her hand. closes his eyes. it's not what she wanted, but he's not following direction so well right now.]

I don't have my coat so that's... okay. I can look up and... think and stuff.

[sounds nice. so nice... he looks over at her again.] Wanna come? It's better when there's someone... So I don't sink, or get lost.

[Zhas good sir you are clearly being way too chill in the face of this GROSSLY OBVIOUS PROBLEM HERE....gross on multiple levels, as a matter of fact! But confronted with such utter nonchalance, Megaman can't help but deflate a bit anyway, as he stops in front of the latter--not that it eases the frown he's wearing as he peers up, concerned and uncertain. He's still half-signing as he speaks, too immediately distressed to actually settle on one or the other.]

Well, I mean, you're--you're walking a bit off! And you're bleeding, aren't you? And-- [Wait. Wait a minute. He stares in bafflement at the completely illegible sign Zhas attempts to impart to him, but it's more because of what Zhas said before that.

'Said' being. The key word here.]

And...you're talking?

[She doesn't mind it, really. She's cleaned off most of the blood, so when he leans into her hand that way she can absently stroke his cheek with her thumb without smearing it more.]

I'll stay with you.

[He really wouldn't have even had to ask, not when he's in this state. Someone has to keep an eye on him, and why shouldn't it be her? He'd been managing walking well enough so for now she'll let him do it on his own, but she expects there will eventually be stumbling.]

You drank a lot. [Understatement. But his face is clean now, and she smiles at him.] There. That's much better.

I drank... some.

[all of this feels like a dream to him, and he moves his face away again without really realizing... mostly to feel at his nose, looking down at his fingers and squinting at the bit of red that showed up there. the bleeding has mostly stopped by now, but...]

Oh. [he gets it, now, why she was doing that.] Was it bad...

[man, it is really hard to follow half-signing and talking at the same time. he's bleeding? what's all this about? ah... he distractedly touches his face, feeling under his nose, pulls back to see that his fingers are red...

the "talking" part settles in at about the same time.] Oh, shit.

[...at least he seems sort of surprised. finally.]

[Some. Zhas pls.]

There was a lot. Must have been... very good punch.

[She does wish she had been there to keep him from getting punched, but she understands that sometimes people need that. Sometimes hitting and being hit is a thing that helps. It's not necessarily healthy, but there it is.

And now her sleeve has blood on it, so she frowns at it and reaches up to grasp the fabric near her shoulder and rip it down. The seam breaks easily, and now she has a free rag to pass him to stop the trickle of blood left.]

Don't lean head back. It's this way.

[The place she has in mind to look at the stars, she means, and she offers her hand to him to lead the way.]

[Fortunately Megaman does drop the half-hearted signing at this point, though it isn't so much for clarity as it is for the fact that. Well. Apparently he doesn't actually need it...?

Zhas does seem a bit surprised too now, at least. But then, what's that supposed to mean? The additional words don't really help, and there's probably a moment in which they both stare at each other in mutual surprised confusion before Megaman finally draws back a pace. Still at a loss, to be sure, but--well--]

So. You're not deaf...? [Oh wow that sounds. Really bad out loud uH--] I mean, not that I--I'm sorry! I just, assumed, since you were signing before...?

[But then, why hadn't Zhas said anything about it then? He's not sure. Megaman tilts his head a bit, confusion increasing just enough that he even forgets about Zhas' bleeding woes for a solid second or so.]

Ah, but you could have told me sooner...it would have been alright! I'm not very good at signing things to start...

[Getting off the ship at any possible time is always a priority for Syeira. She's not really made for this desert-like place, but it has wind and earth and a sun that rises and sets, so she'll take it.

But there's not a whole lot to do here, and so the saloon is her #1 vacation destination this stop. Which is how she finds Zhas, slumped, grumped and getting drunk. (There's no term for 'drunk' that rhymes, shush). She doesn't even bother to ask questions, she just slides onto the seat next to him, and motions for the bartender to bring over two of whatever Zhas is currently drinking. One for her and a second for him. Because he looks like he's in that mood.]

[ Okay, so normally she just kind of ignores drunk people wandering around. They're drunk. It's what they do. As long as they aren't hurting themselves or other people and don't look like they're dying, it's kind of the norm at nighttime for most places to have a few people like that wandering around, right?

So she's about to walk right past him, but the nosebleed catches her eye, and there's just something about him that seems familiar. Maybe she had seen him on one of the ships ... ?

She stops in his path, before coming closer to have a look ]

-- Hey, are you -- here, hold on. [ She'll pull a handkerchief out of her bag and hand it to him ] You're bleeding.

[Disgusted. Noise.]

[Cassandra doesn't even know why she's surprised to find Zhas not only a mess, but picking a fight with someone else. And she means picking a fight. As rough as everyone on this dusty moon is, they are more than content to leave people be as long as you leave them be. This is clearly not what has happened here.]

[So, the real question is: does she let it go or does she intervene? For the moment, Cassandra waits. As long as it's a somewhat fair fight, she doesn't feel particularly compelled to get Zhas out of whatever trouble he's managed to get himself into. She will just mind her own business with her drink in that case.]

[Even if everyone isn't asleep, Nunnally at least likes to know where the crew is most nights. So when Zhas is out particularly late... Well, she can't help but start to fidget and worry. When it gets late enough she eventually buttons up in a jacket and heads out to make sure he's not like... Dead in a ditch or something. And after bit of asking around she hears about an average sized man with glowing eyes who got super drunk, went FIGHT ME!!! a lot, then left bloody and woozy.

Hm who could that be.

So when she stumbles upon Zhas, she might look more than a little worried. Enough so to call out to him instead of trying to sign as she rolls her chair in his direction]

Zhas? [she waits to say more until some of the distance between them is closed. It feels rude to call out loudly late at night]

[he takes the sleeve unquestioningly... but doesn't quite get why he's holding it. and then he takes her hand without thinking it's strange, because he's busy thinking...]

Think he had a robot arm.

[which sounds kind of funny, in his monotone. a moment later there's a tug on her arm as he suddenly pitches forward--tripped over the front of his own heavy boot.

--which makes him laugh. it's such an awkward, clumsy sound coming from him, half sputtered anyway, but he makes it back to his feet in better spirits.]

Maybe I had a lot... Aah. Do you know... Hange, old captain.

I don't... [even drunk, he can talk well enough to pass in conversation--so it really is kind of odd that he'd refuse, isn't it? he looks for the other words, here; he didn't mean to screw this up.] ...like talking.

[he does have a creepy monotone, and sounds about as warm as a gravel driveway... he looks a little pained by the admitting.]

[he looks over in time to catch her ordering a couple of drinks--he hasn't quite caught on that one of those will be for him, but just the fact that she's settling in for drinks next to him is putting her at the top of his "favorite people" list for the night.

because the weird truth is that he drinks to be social--he just doesn't ever know where to start. he waves just a little in greeting, already looking interested in her being there.]

[he was having a lovely time off somewhere else, contemplating the stars and the fresh air and wondering how they managed to get a moon of this size to have normal gravity--but then there's suddenly a person in his path, and he stops with only a little bit of a wobble.

...a handkerchief is being handed to him. he takes it, because that's what you do when people hand you things, but...]

...Huh?

[he's what? ...he doesn't get... did he miss something? yes, he missed something.]

Still bleeding, a little. Here.

[Since he didn't figure it out on his own she brings his hand and the rag up to his nose for him, but then they're walking and then he's stumbling and. Well.

She likes the sound of his laugh. She likes the bloom of happiness in him when he laughs, the brightness as she watches him catch his balance. She wouldn't have let him fall completely, not when his body would have told her if he couldn't right himself, but it's probably best not to take chances.

He'll have to excuse the way she pulls his arm over her shoulders, but more likely the fact that she sweeps his legs up off the ground so she can carry him in her arms is the part he'll protest. Boys don't usually enjoy being carried by girls at all, she's learned.]

Hange... yes, we talked. When I... first came here. She was nice.

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c!!

golly

>:3

another c!!

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sweet!!

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A! Enter the babysitter

C ....

b

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A for AWESOME ok

ino you are a good person

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