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driftfleet2015-12-12 11:31 am
lord_wizard) wrote in driftfleet2015-12-12 11:31 am
Entry tags:
commiseration [closed]
Who: Felix and Tyrion
Broadcast: Nope
Action: SS Starstruck
When: Whenever time suits
[Felix sat back against the cool wall of his room as he sat on his bed, feeling the pleasant warmth settle into his limbs. They're through at least one bottle of what might charitably be called wine sitting empty on the footlocker that's now serving as a side table, along with the leftover bits of the small meal he'd put together for the sake of playing a good host. It's much easier to pretend he isn't a bit bothered by the fact that it's partly made of protein gel when he's drunk, but at least the lemon flavor makes passable lemon bars on their own. It's also easier to pretend he's not second-guessing the offer he'd made to Tyrion, but most of the time Felix keeps the promises he makes. Or makes an effort to, at least.
They've mostly exhausted the usual pleasantries by now, and all that's left is the reason the two of them are sitting alone in his room. Usually this kind of audience leads to something else, but in a way what Tyrion was asking was far more intimate, in a way. The fact that there was a closed door between them and the rest of the ship said that they both understood that fact.
He idly refill his own glass and silently offers to do the same for his guest, considering the level of the liquid and the spares bottles as of yet unopened and how intoxicated he really has to be for this. There's a mysterious green liquid he acquired on one of the planets, but that one is only for an emergency. Depending on what secret decides to come tumbling out of his mouth, it very well might be. And that's the horrible truth of all of this - whatever story he ends up telling will likely shed light on a lie.]
Well, then...I believe since this was your idea, it should be you who begins. Your choice as to where.
Broadcast: Nope
Action: SS Starstruck
When: Whenever time suits
[Felix sat back against the cool wall of his room as he sat on his bed, feeling the pleasant warmth settle into his limbs. They're through at least one bottle of what might charitably be called wine sitting empty on the footlocker that's now serving as a side table, along with the leftover bits of the small meal he'd put together for the sake of playing a good host. It's much easier to pretend he isn't a bit bothered by the fact that it's partly made of protein gel when he's drunk, but at least the lemon flavor makes passable lemon bars on their own. It's also easier to pretend he's not second-guessing the offer he'd made to Tyrion, but most of the time Felix keeps the promises he makes. Or makes an effort to, at least.
They've mostly exhausted the usual pleasantries by now, and all that's left is the reason the two of them are sitting alone in his room. Usually this kind of audience leads to something else, but in a way what Tyrion was asking was far more intimate, in a way. The fact that there was a closed door between them and the rest of the ship said that they both understood that fact.
He idly refill his own glass and silently offers to do the same for his guest, considering the level of the liquid and the spares bottles as of yet unopened and how intoxicated he really has to be for this. There's a mysterious green liquid he acquired on one of the planets, but that one is only for an emergency. Depending on what secret decides to come tumbling out of his mouth, it very well might be. And that's the horrible truth of all of this - whatever story he ends up telling will likely shed light on a lie.]
Well, then...I believe since this was your idea, it should be you who begins. Your choice as to where.
no subject
[Is Tyrion's dry response.]
...and that is true. Honestly, my home is something close to insanity's favorite festival.
no subject
[Speaking of which...yes, he will go ahead and reach over for that other bottle. If he's lucky he'll forget what he told Tyrion about himself tomorrow]
no subject
[Was the very sensible reply, and he held his glass out with a faint smirk.]