savetheearth | ᴛᴡᴏ. [ action; at a bar, evening ]

[ It's been a long, long past twenty-four hours for Casval.

Most of it was spent curled up in the corner of his totaled office, and then his bedroom, lonelier than ever, when staying was no longer feasible. Sheets drawn over his head though sleep wouldn't come in a vain effort to block out the noise of hearing himself scream over and over again of how he'd wipe the world clean, how it was fit for eradication, extinction, Amuro Ray, don't you see? He doesn't know an Amuro Ray and never wants to, never wants to know a Char Aznable, either but he's stuck with him since he's settled deep into his brain with no hopes of unseating his awful presence and that's what gets him the most, because if there was one thing Casval didn't need, it was another voice to join all the rest already prickling at his jumbled thoughts.

Eventually he runs out of alcohol to numb the encroaching madness and stumbles his way over to the nearest bar, disheveled and disoriented. He drinks and drinks and drinks until they say he's had enough but it isn't. It isn't and will never be.

He doesn't remember when he collapses against the counter but he does remember a distinct lack of dignity when it happens, drifting as the hours drag on. There was nothing dignified about this situation and there's no dignified lift to Casval's step when he's ushered out of the bar, sick and stumbling.

He won't remember any of this by tomorrow, and really, that's sort of the point. Because if he did remember, he has a feeling that'd be the last straw to snap him completely. ]

(( So yeah after spending all day attempting to tune out the world Casval has come out of his angsty cocoon and is drinking his sorrows away. You're free to run into him at any point during this endeavor, at the bar, him going or him leaving -- multiple options here. Get drunk with him, make fun of him, start a fight, whatever. Fair warning that he's very much out of it and likely to snap without provocation/do irresponsible things because he's sick of this life he just wants to scream how could this happen to me him. ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Was it time for a drink? Hell yeah it was.

Her skin itched. She pushed the feeling down, but she still had that feeling of wrongness. Wrong body, wrong body entirely. Everything seemed too large, too tall. And then, what she'd heard...

No, felt. Felt was better. Satisfaction. Pride. Relief. And a smugness, and then... terror and fear. Recognition. Violet light. A brief glimpse of an alien sky...

Coronation? This is bad comedy.

Then, a memory of pain and... blackness.

It was a memory. But a fragmented, piecemeal memory, and it was nothing compared to the strange humming in her chest. The humming that made her all too aware of the sloshing of fluids inside her, the way every orifice seemed to ooze and drip. The way she thought she could feel her body rotting from the inside out.

Yes, it was time for booze.

Somehow, she wasn't surprised to see Casval there. She's seen his pictures. ]

Bartender, a Dark and Stormy, would you? It's the sort of night for it. [she says, sliding to a stool nearby. Drink... and then perhaps, after the hangover clears, flying? No, a bad idea. Never fly when emotionally compromised.]

[ Truthfully, the pictures—even the not-so-nice ones—did him far more justice than he deserved currently, washed up and trashed in what, under ordinary circumstances, Casval would've considered a dump. But the only dump here is him, twitchy eyes and twitchy fingers in a disaster of a uniform he was once so very proud of. Now, he wonders if he shouldn't just burn it. Throw himself into the flames, as well, as if the immolation might rid himself of the things that seared within.

Ignorant of the woman who's joined him in the miserable activity of forgetting, he's nursing his last drink of the evening, though every swig spills half of it, uncoordinated and utterly inelegant. This is the not the Captain at his best. This is the Captain at his worst, at a level so far beyond worst he can't even begin to contemplate the consequences of such.

Never fly when emotionally compromised. Too bad he only learned that lesson the hard way, the literal way, and now wants nothing more than to fly away from his life and all the nightmares that came with it, as fast as he could. ]

"Perhaps you shouldn't order another, sir," she says, though the sir is said somewhat sarcastically. "You look a right mess."

She takes a swig of her own drink.

"But then, I can't really blame you, either."

ᴛᴡᴏ. [ action; at a bar, evening ]

Still waiting to hear back on an Echo OK, but... fuck it, assuming it was

o/ sounds good! did we want to assume they did wind up meeting on base/knowing each other?

HAHA sure. Also should I start that log? What's the base like? idk???