driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Anyone! Everyone!
Broadcast: If you want!
Action: On the FLOOT LOOP stations! Or the planet!
When: WHENEVER time is an illusion.

[you know the drill! this is a mingle for the stations floating around the bizarre forest planet, or the forest planet itself!

want to get away from the forest illusions? are you stopping for supplies? were you just really craving a bowl of Floot Loops for some reason? whether you are backdating for pre-planet shenanigans or just want to mess around, this is the post for you!]

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[Four shots. She can feel 'em. Win or lose she feels better, at least, and she laughs at his remark like he meant it to be funny and not trying to rip her up. She picks up a green one...]

Three, two, one. [And shot.]

[it's meant to be funny in the way that he's not expecting it to actually stick. it's pretty obvious that resembling a lady is the absolute last thing she cares about.

and he shakes his head after the last one, interrupting the rhythm of the assembly line she's got leading into her face by snatching out to pick up the specific one that she's reaching for next]

--Can we at least make this one fun, at least?

[please, for pity's sake. he picks it up and kind of motions toward her face, showing that he'd feed this one to her. the fact that she could do the same to him is implied. she could pour it in his eye if she wanted.]

Aw! [She pauses in surprise enough for all of that to happen smoothly. ... Then that one really makes her laugh. That's not what she was expecting at all, but -]

Sure. I'm game. [She picks up another glass. She will refrain from pouring it in his eye, too.]

[see, look. they're friends.]

Just please remember that I like this shirt very much.

[and this stuff looks like it stains.

and if she's game, he'll delicately tip the thing into her mouth when she's ready. probably much slower than she'd like for a shot, but he doesn't want it to spill. maybe he's really, really hoping for the golden rule here.

...that, and he wants to make sure that the shot is somewhere around triple potency, and is going to give her a hell of a hangover in the morning, by the time it reaches her mouth.

at least she gets to look at his tongue again. turns out that thing is almost prehensile, and he wants to steady the incoming glass as much he can.]

[Real golden rule would dictate she'd pour it in his eye about now, right? Friends they are not.

She's patient, at least, for this. And careful enough pouring her shot into his mouth, although then she's promptly putting the glass down and trying to catch his tongue in her fingers. Too fascinating.]

[well! it's like trying to catch an eel--it slips right through her fingers, and his recoiling over her fingers in his mouth mixes well with his wincing over the alcohol.

he seems in better spirits now, though. it's probably just the alcohol getting to him, right?]

--Careful, I could accidentally burn your fingers right off, you know.

[How mysterious. She's getting drunk enough to get handsy, anyway. It doesn't look like she cares about the warning as she smiles narrowly at him.]

That'd be careless of you, wouldn't it? Another, now. [She picks up another glass.] Three, two, one.

[and he looks far more content to be leered at and mildly harassed. he's sure that he's going to get what he wants, and make her pay a little price for all her annoyances, and that makes him much more amiable.]

So, how do we know when the game is over? What's the official call?

[getting ready to take the shot while he asks his question.]

[She takes the shot and then looks him over, brows pulling down, expression keen. Being drunk makes her handsy and more reckless than usual, not stupid.]

What, not feeling it?

Not as much as you are.

[he leans forward, peering at her eyes.]

Look at your pupils go~

[They are pretty blown. She takes the shot in a distracted kind of way, fixating on his face and staring at his eyes in turn.]

I don't think I believe you that you're not reptilian, sorry.

[he neglects to follow her shot with one of his own, just to see if she's paying attention.]

And why is that? Reptiles don't get fevers, and you've seen that one first-hand.

That forked tongue seems pretty reptilian to me! Snakes have 'em like that... your teeth'd fit too.

[She pauses, squints, and then makes a gesture.]

Toss one back, you clammy lizard.

Oops...

[silly him, he must not have been paying attention. so, he makes amends and serves his time knocking back another one.

ugh. it still makes him grimace.]

...It's coincidental, I promise. Completely different branch of the pantheon.

If I believed you, I'm sure I'd find that convincing.

[She relaxes back in her seat. Ahhh, drunk and the entire world cradles you and spins you around at once. Delightful.]

Your kind has always been terrible at this kind of thing.

[he holds up fingers as he lists and explains.]

Animals are dross creations, but you can trace many of their family trees back to the gods that caused them. Reptiles are animals. Their creation follows the Hungry god, he is the father of reptiles, and... honestly, they came first.

And then comes us, via a completely different creation event--different god, different process, different time. We are not related at all.

[and though he may not be drunk in actuality, the ruse gives him an excuse to get a little chatty.]

Mmmhm, mmhm, mmhm...

[She's listening and sort of mulling this information over, but she's also sort of not buying it.]

Well, I hate to tell you this, but I'm an atheist. Your selling point of being deity-created sounds very nice, but I'm not buying it.

[his eyebrows raise.]

...What, you don't believe I was created by my god?

I'm afraid not. I don't believe gods exist, I'm sorry to tell you.

[All right, she's not sorry. It's just sort of... residual manners asserting themselves around the drunkenness.]

[he scoffs a little.]

If you feel abandoned by the gods, you should. Whoever created humanity
never confessed to the crime. Or masterpiece, depending on who you're asking.

...But to not believe in them at all is just silly.

[She laughs suddenly and giddily, and grabs another shot and takes it.]

If there are gods, they're so worthless as to not bother existing at all. In the end it's the same to me.

That-- [and he happily raises a tiny glass in a mock toast.] --is more like it.

[and down into his gullet it goes.]

[She's still laughing but now she hiccups suddenly. And then sits very still for a moment.

And then she surges to her feet and takes quick steps for the door.]

[and he--taking his time--sets his glass down, pushes himself up to his feet, and ambles after her.]

[She's in her own little world. She leaves the building - there's no alley, everything here is wall to wall. She finds a sort of corner instead and crouches a bit, head hanging - then lifts her head and vomits a stream of almost pure alcohol onto the ground. Pauses, pukes again, straightens up and digs a finger into her mouth to scrape a food scrap out of the back of her throat. It looks like it's been a while since she's eaten, though, given that the puke is mostly fluid and not much else.]