❝ ＦＵＬＬ ＦＲＯＮＴＡＬ ❞ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
secondcomingof) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-04-25 05:29 pm
secondcomingof) wrote in savetheearth2013-04-25 05:29 pm
Entry tags:
sɪx.
WHO: Emery and Casval
WHAT: Drowning one's sorrows, again, in a so-called "success".
WHERE: Some random bar.
WHEN: A few days after the mission; probably around Tuesday or Wednesday.
[ He'd sent him a message—so how about that scotch?—and hoped it was enough, some vague details and a time provided with little else. He's not sure why he wants the company, really; he looks a mess and feels it, too, all jumbled up after his encounters of the furry kind, all wrong in the head though that's a given. He can't remember when he'd last been right in the head, frankly.
Casval didn't wait for him to arrive. Casval has trouble waiting, for anything, for anyone, because they usually don't show up, let him down, abandon him some place cold and alone so why even bother to begin with? But with Emery, he sensed something different, something worth pursuing, so there he sits at the counter. Nervously tap, tap, tapping his fingers on its dingy surface, taking heavy gulps of his drink and already flagging the tender down for another.
What does 'success' mean to you?
Not this, Emery. Not this. ]
WHAT: Drowning one's sorrows, again, in a so-called "success".
WHERE: Some random bar.
WHEN: A few days after the mission; probably around Tuesday or Wednesday.
[ He'd sent him a message—so how about that scotch?—and hoped it was enough, some vague details and a time provided with little else. He's not sure why he wants the company, really; he looks a mess and feels it, too, all jumbled up after his encounters of the furry kind, all wrong in the head though that's a given. He can't remember when he'd last been right in the head, frankly.
Casval didn't wait for him to arrive. Casval has trouble waiting, for anything, for anyone, because they usually don't show up, let him down, abandon him some place cold and alone so why even bother to begin with? But with Emery, he sensed something different, something worth pursuing, so there he sits at the counter. Nervously tap, tap, tapping his fingers on its dingy surface, taking heavy gulps of his drink and already flagging the tender down for another.
What does 'success' mean to you?
Not this, Emery. Not this. ]
no subject
[ In truth, Emery hadn't been wholly certain that Casval would take him up on his offer. Banter, even the kind with underlying point and purpose, could easily be forgotten in the aftermath of a night so wretched. Emery has been waiting for some small network flicker to calm his squeezing stomach. While he'd had every faith in their conviction he couldn't help but doubt their readiness: a fire-bright leader and a handful of laymen, students and academics did not an army make ...
Not that it had been a war they'd set out to. Aaron had reminded the network of as much, days ago, although the eerie silence that followed was just about enough to convince him otherwise.
What happened out there?
Imagine, then, his surprise when Casval's message filtered through. Emery hadn't even thought to waste time on cleaning up: that's why when he arrives at the bar his hair is still flecked with paint, and there's a small smudge of midnight blue just below his right ear. He spots him easily—he's tall, broad and fair, sitting alone by the counter. ]
Casval?
[ But it isn't a question so much as a greeting. Emery looks at him hard for a moment, assessing him with warm, gold-flecked blues, before ordering a gin and tonic for himself and setting down the money to pay for both. ]
... Oh. I'm Emery. [ He offers a self-deprecating smile. ] I mean, we've spoken, but we haven't actually done this before.
no subject
Though he's already expecting him (sort of, kind of), Casval flinches as though struck once addressed. And he is, in a sense. Struck by Emery's straightforwardness, both in tone and in expression, how he slides into place and thinks nothing of it. Immediately he feels the sting of assessment radiating from his gaze and he shrinks away, slightly, like a shamed dog with its tail between his legs. His bark is appropriately abated when he responds, confidence curtailed once he meets him glance for glance. ]
Pleasure. [ He doesn't extend a hand. Doesn't feel the need. They'd gotten their greetings out of their way over the network, and his hands are still shaking a bit. ] Good choice, gin and tonic. Goes down easily.
[ Blink, blink, blink. Side glance. Right, what had Emery said again? ]
...how are you?
[ When in doubt, deflect as obviously and blatantly as possible. ]
no subject
It goes down deliciously, you mean.
[ Emery's smile warms further as he fishes out the wedge lime. He squeezes out the remaining juice (bar staff, he's noticed, always seem to stop half-way), before plopping the rind back in and giving the contents of the glass a little swill. The juice on his fingers is sucked off idly; ]
Hm? Ah—I'm fine. Halfway through a project, actually ... [ Have a sheepish little chuckle. ] But I'm always halfway through a project. This one's about ... the sea? I suppose. [ Although he doesn't seem quite convinced. Artists, eh. ]
But we can talk about that any time. How are you?
[ Because Emery can see that he's shaking; he can practically see the unease rising from him in waves; and some innate part of him needs to reach out and help. He hadn't been lying when he'd said that he's not good at giving up on what he believes in—much as he's no good at leaving people when they're in need of someone to be around. Even if they don't realise it. ]
... You don't have to answer if you don't want to.
[ He sips his drink, contemplative. ]
But if you need to, you can.
no subject
I noticed. [ Casval points a gloved finger at the paint smudges. ] The sea, hm? That seems to suit you. Well... not in a wishy-washy sort of way. You know what I mean, I'm sure.
[ Ah, alcohol. Always blurring the lines of what's appropriate and what's not. At least the smoother talk smooths the quivers as well, at least until Emery stirs the pot again with the probing question.
Maybe probing questions were just the nature of the beast, with this individual. Doesn't mean he likes it, but he'll keep that particular judgment to himself, among the rest.
The open-mouthed smile gains a tentative edge, but Casval is quick to glaze it over, or otherwise do his damndest to try. It doesn't work all that well, and soon enough he retreats to his glass, hand tightening around it. ]
I'm alive.
[ He shrugs, then downs the drink in a single chug. ]
That's something.
no subject
[ Emery blinks just the once before lifting a hand to where Casval's pointing. He feels the paint almost immediately, dry and hard against his skin, but he knows better than to try and clean off with anything less than a hot shower and soap. The paint stays. ]
Oh ... um. Thanks? I think.
[ Because in Emery's opinion, at least, the sea is anything but wishy-washy. The sea is vast and deep and filled with wonders that he'll probably never truly understand.
... And unicorns. When he was young, his mother told him that the sea was home to mermaids and unicorns. ]
You know, all this time I thought that a good scotch was supposed to be savoured.
[ But that's just the sass coming through, because even in these darker moments Emery's tongue is quick and silver. Still, it's clear that he doesn't mean it maliciously, although he's weighing up just how much of a dependency this one has on alcohol to keep him sane. He isn't here to judge, of course, he just doesn't think he'll be able to carry him home on his own. Emery's strengths have never been all that physical. ]
You're alive. Which I'm quite glad about, really.
[ He nods. That's not what's been worrying him. Men like Casval and Jack - they can take care of themselves. It's the others who were in the real danger. He places an elbow on the bar before resting his chin on the palm of his hand, his eyes level and calm if not a little fey around the edges. ]
... Is everyone else?