driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: The fine crew of the SS Red Fish!
Broadcast: Probably not so much...
Action: You betcha.
When: Barely forward-dated to Halloween!

---

[welcome to the Red Fish, the ship that always looks ready for Halloween anyway.

while today is a popular Earth holiday, it's also Zhas' birthday, and he has probably mentioned it to everyone on board in an unsubtle way over the last few weeks. there are a hilarious number of jack-o-lanterns around the ship, showing off skull-face carvings of... varying quality. thanks, Syeira!

what's in store on this spooky night? HILARITY, probably.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Drinking, drinking, till the ship is sinking. By this point in the night, Asuka's half-Angelic metabolism be damned, she's had maybe two too many. It's not enough to make her insensible, but it is enough to wipe most of the scowl off her face and incite her to less than stellar feats of daring.]

[Right now, for example, she's showcasing her incomparable reflexes by tossing handfuls of dried pumpkin seeds in the air and catching them.]

[Right now, for example, she's catching more with her Red Riding Hood basket than with her hands.]

Hey, Zhas-- [Nobody's watching her at this point, which is profoundly annoying. She wrinkles her nose as she picks up some of the stray seeds.] I didn't give you a present yet.

[since he only indulges like this once a year, he tends to go all-out--throwing things like "pacing" and "sensible decisions" to the wind. he makes for a very easily-distracted drunk, turning in his chair to see why Asuka is talking to him, only to lose focus on the seeds that she's picking up.]

...Huh? [the rest of her words filter through to him several seconds too soon.] Oh, no? You don't have to...

[seeing Asuka here, in a costume and not scowling, is enough to make him smile anyway.]

Yeah. I do.

[She used to let birthdays slide. Mari, ever-annoying, used to give her a stupid present every year, with all the ceremony of a priest handling a relic (the relic being, on one lousy occasion, a set of lingerie). Anyone else's-- Colonel Katsuragi's, Dr. Akagi's, were summarily ignored.]

'S in my room. You want it right now?

[he's a strong believer in birthdays, but the majority of his celebrating is taken up by simply letting himself not be a vampire hunter for one day out of the year. this is a special time to reflect on his own humanity and reconnect with the things that separate him from the monsters that otherwise consume his life.

...so the idea that anyone would actually get him a present is still kind of new and crazy. and he isn't sure how to answer. he presses his fingers to his lips (another thing he never gets to do) while stalling with a low humming noise.]

...Yeah, sure. [he stands up, huffing in near-silent laughter while the floor moves away from him just a little faster than it should.] This isn't a weird prank or something, right?

[Asuka looks mildly, blearily impressed that he's even upright, and after she's picked up what she thinks might be the last stray seed (it isn't), she gets to her feet properly as well, dusting off the skirt of her dress.]

I don't kid around.

[And, leaving her basket, she starts to wave him out of the kitchen. Inebriation has coaxed her out of putting off the gift-giving, or never bothering to give at all. She stumbles slightly, but her walk's still purposeful enough towards her room.] Come on.

What about your...

[he looks up from the abandoned basket only to see her waving him along from across the room. he is momentarily torn about bringing it to her, in case she forgot--but the battle is pointless and short-lived. soon, he jogs to catch up with her, all fine and well even when he bounces off of one of the walls like a heavy human pinball.

his "oof" is hilariously delayed. he follows along after without incident.]

You left your basket... [okay, so maybe he's not over the basket thing yet.] Little Red Riding Hood, right?

Edited (i really have to stop picking the default icon) 2016-11-10 04:45 (UTC)

Yeah. It was my friend's idea.

[She says it without hesitancy. Sure, right now, she feels friendly with most everybody, but there's that nagging feeling that once she's sobered up, what she's said will still be true. Her costume's more than a little reminiscent of her doll's. It's just that she hasn't curled her hair any.]

[She lets him in her room eagerly. It's bare except for the essentials, and it would be unkempt if there were more things there than a few random baubles on her dresser and a rumpled bed. She opens up a closet door and takes a plastic bag out, handing it to him unceremoniously. While drunk, her good eye seems a little shinier, and her bad eye glints blue intermittently through the patch like a bad Christmas light.]

Here.

[Inside, he'll find a blank, black ceramic skull and a pack of what looks like white eyebrow pencils. Asuka had picked it up awhile back, months back, sometime after he'd yanked her out of the water, never knowing if she'd give it to him or not, or leave it by his door sometime like a kid. She looks up at him, nodding, her face slightly pleased.]

You can write on it. It wipes off like a chalkboard.

It's cute.

[which is a little weird for a gruff, gravelly-voiced man to say, but he doesn't mean any harm. lucky for her, it doesn't even occur to him that she has a doll, let alone that she might look kind of like it right now. Red Riding Hood is just a story to him, one that his "mother" liked to tell over and over again.

he follows her into her room without hesitation. he might have paid more attention to that, too, had he been sober--but he stands politely and quietly until something is suddenly handed to him.

he takes it, opens the bag, pulls out the skull. his already wide eyes get even wider as she explains, an expression she might not see for another year.]

Really? That's... [he holds it up, almost grinning at the thing. like a kid in a candy store, this one.] ...Amazing. That's great.

[he starts digging into the bag for the pencils a second later.] Show me.

Good.

[Asuka looks childishly pleased, taking one of the pencils and scribbling Asuka Shikinami Langley across the skull's forehead in prim cursive, before writing Happy Birthday an inch to the side of an eye socket. She wipes off her name with two fingers a few moments later but leaves the second message, stark against the inky black skull.]

I got it a long time ago. I was gonna give it to you then, but...

[She shrugs, looking mildly embarrassed.]

I didn't get the chance.

[had he been raised like a normal person, he might have had reservations about childishly doodling on a skull... but here he is, following her example and signing a practiced "Ƶ" on the flat plane of the mandible.]

You've been thinking about it...? [he glances up at Asuka, thinking nothing of her embarrassment. he's surprised that she got something so long ago... and flattered that she hadn't just thrown it away before now. he looks a little sheepish himself as he starts scribbling a familiar pattern, something very dia de los muertos on the front of the skull.

but him makes him think (and he's tipsy enough to voice it):] You're... nice to be around. So, thanks... for not getting sick of me yet, I guess...

It's nothing.

[Asuka watches him draw without adding anything else to the skull-- it's his anyway, and she's not particularly artistic, beyond some margin doodles in junior high. The pencil's thoughtlessly lax between her fingers.]

You're not so bad, either. [It sounds a little, no, a lot stupid, at least to her own ears.] You let me have my space.

Mm... [he does, doesn't he? he's never had any space of his own, so it's...] Funny. But you're smart, you don't need me following you around.

[she's not Coil, not by a long shot. he starts to ring an eye with flower petals, but stops short of a full circle to look up at her again.]

...Do you want to go back outside? [he holds his pencil loosely, paused in what he's doing, as he's only just now realized they are still in his room. speaking of Coil, the kid's probably going to come looking for him soon. spoilsport.]

I'm not smart. I'm brilliant.

[That superiority's taken entirely too much alcohol to burst back onto the surface. As a kid, she'd been utterly overbearing and unbearable; as half an adult, she's usually only embittered. It never mattered how smart she was lying in a coffin.]

Yeah, okay. [She starts to walk towards the exit, picking up her doll along the way and tossing it blandly on the bed.] C'mon.

[Zhas only chuckles, ignorant of the many footnotes surrounding her cocky statement. he finds claims of confidence endearing, and doesn't have mind to wonder otherwise.

the doll, though. he suddenly remembers that she has one, for starters, and that she nearly lost her mind when he kept it from her. the basket was one thing, but something about watching her pick up and toss it aside doesn't sit well in his booze-filled head. it sticks and it gums his feet to the floor. she can keep walking, but Zhas hasn't moved a foot when he asks:]

You're not bringing your friend...?

[he points loosely towards the bed.]

She's not my friend.

[The answer is quick and pointed. The doll's not anything except what she wants her to be. Confidant. Support system. Puppet. The doll can't be her friend when she's her. It's there, across her skirt in big blocky letters. Asuka.]

I just keep her around.

[The lie's pretty weak, given the amount of alcohol swimming through her system. She looks at Zhas, suddenly vaguely wary.] What? Are you gonna tease me again?

[that wariness again... the chance of conflict sends his gaze up to the ceiling, has him shoving his hands safely in his pockets.]

Mmo-- M'not supposed to tease girls.

[though that first noise, for a half of a second, could have turned into "momma". that's how you know he's had too much to drink.]

Didn't think you had that many manners. [Asuka's speech isn't exactly slurred, but neither does it have its usual impatient, high cadence, shrill as a piccolo.]

I'm too old for that crap anyway. [Too old for everything. What's thirty going to look like? What's forty? It's incredibly selfish, though, to consider her own birthday on the day of someone else's. Well, whatever.] Way too old. It sucks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only