driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.]

[for what it's worth, he isn't just leaning nearby so he can quietly and unfairly gloat. he's also watching to make sure that no one comes by to bother her, without the cover of an alley or shrubbery to give her privacy. he'll make faces at anyone that looks too curious or offended about it-- the ugly, unmasked kind.

and he waits, full of both pride and disgust, until she seems well and truly finished.]

...Does this mean that I win?

[She straightens back onto her feet after a moment, moving her tongue around her mouth and swallowing. Blech. Tastes... not great.

She's pretty sure there are more shots left in there. She can wash that flavor out with those, hmmm.

Regardless of more unhealthy planning, she's a decent loser as well as a good winner.]

I suppose so.

[Aaand then she turns around to go back in the bar.]

[his realms are poison and death. he's not going to ask if she's alright.

he just pushes himself away from the wall and turns on his heel when she passes by, following her back inside.]

Glutton for punishment?

We still have booze here.

[She's sitting down right where she was.]

What's the point in wasting it?

[and he falls right back into his place as well.

I understand that you're known for your enthusiasm... but are you always this enthusiastic about alcohol?