ᴛᴡᴏ. [ action; at a bar, evening ]

[secondcomingof]

[ 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. ))

Comments

[comparative_insanity]

[Fay really wasn't feeling too brilliant either, too many things crowding in on his mind, too many questions and thoughts more confusing than he'd ever had to deal with in his life. He tended to pretend he didn't have choices, that everything was just one straight path from A to B. Why stay and fight his family for the right to be who he was, when he could run away? Why let anyone close when moving on was so easy?

But suddenly the world seems full of alternatives and riddles and none of it looks easy. Except getting drunk and possibly high/laid/hospitalized. That seemed like a very good idea right now.

At first he doesn't pay much mind to anyone, only reacts to the tired tone of voice of the bartender telling the man next to him that this really is the last drink. He's used that voice often enough himself. But it makes him look twice at the other man, and... oh.]

Dear god, sugar, this really went rough on you, didn't it? You look terrible.

club can't handle me right now

[masterofbling]

[Big Dick bursts into this particular watering hole after a long night of bar hopping. Looks like he had the same idea. He's surrounded by a gaggle of his girls, all competing to impress him by blathering about this and that. One had even seen fit to wrap a feather boa around his neck, leaving feathers to cling to his Armani suit. He spots the back of a familiar blonde head at the bar and swaggers over, taking his entourage of wannabe concubines with him.]

Now pay attention! That is the kind of hair you should be aiming for.

[Is he drunk? Oh, most definitely.]

[secondcomingof]

Nngh.

[ That nngh wasn't in response to anything in particular, by the way—not to the bartender rebuking him nor to Fay chiding him. Just a general expression of frustration and ow, the migraine's coming on sooner than usual this time, not that it's a huge surprise. He knew he couldn't ward it off forever.

Casval shifts from his coagulating puddle of drool, mussed hair shifting with him, but he only winds up further pressed into the counter's surface. So much for making an honest effort to leave as the staff have been advising him to do for the past... while. Sorry, Fay, he's not the most talkative at the moment. Or the most coherent. ]

GIRLS BE UP IN THE CLUB LIKE WOAH, YO

[secondcomingof]

[ The giggling bunch of no doubt finely mannered ladies would've perked the ears of anyone even remotely male—or otherwise interested—from miles off, but they spur no reaction from Casval, who'd much rather ignore their existence than acknowledge the trouble headed his direction.

And Mr. "Big Dick" was always trouble.

Somehow, that familiar voice cuts through the drunken fog, and Casval is lifting his leaden head with a delayed blink, blink, blink, staring at Richard through reddened eyes. What are you doing here? He doesn't ask but he already knows.

This is not going to end well for him. ]

[comparative_insanity]

Oh dear.

[And usually he would just shrug and go back to what he's doing, not care what some drunk has seen to get him like this. Except Fay has seen it too, and he's still not nearly as wasted, and he feels... responsible, somehow. So he sighs, slipping out of his seat and without hesitating for even a moment lifts the taller man's arm off the counter and slips it around his own shoulders, starting to help him up.]

We're getting you to the bathroom, before you throw up here. Sweetie- [This is addressed to the barman.] -get me an empty glass, he needs some water. Come along, honey.

[masterofbling]

["If you hit a deer on the road and it's still alive, shoot it in the head." One of the few good pieces of advice his father had given him. Big Dick is definitely aiming to shoot this particular deer between the eyes. It'd be nice mounted on his wall.]

May, June, Julia.

[He snaps his fingers and three girls step forward: a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead.]

What do you think, Captain Mass? Pick your flavor. Or do you want to go neapolitan?

[secondcomingof]

[ Boy, would it ever. But Casval still is cognizant enough to sense a trap when it's about to spring, especially one as obvious as this. Even if Richard's sporting three heads all of a sudden and those girls smell enticing if horribly, terribly trashy at the same time. ]

Take your bloody cocksluts [ ouch, language ] somewhere else.

[ He manages to groan it out, clawing a few strands of scraggy hair into place and shooting him a look. ]

Not interested.

[masterofbling]

Now, now, let's not be rash. At least let them walk you back to base. Or do you want to be seen all drunk and disorderly?

[A drunken man's mind is easy to fathom. They're looking to make mistakes. They want to make mistakes.]

[secondcomingof]

[ Careful, Fay. That's a lot of weight you're trying to bear almost all on your own. The captain is not a small man by any measure and the tipsiness won't be lending any ease to your otherwise noble endeavor. Not that he's resisting, because he doesn't have the foresight to, but there's little he can do to assist, even if he's ultimately right: the bathroom is definitely the place he needs to be right now. ]

Can't. Somewhere else. They'll find me there. [ He shudders beneath the crushing grip of paranoia. ] They'll shoot me, too. They're everywhere.

[secondcomingof]

[ Except mistakes were already made. Far too many. Casval shakes his head. Whines, like a child, and feels like one, lost and abandoned. Turns aside so he can't see them smirking at him. ]

Too late for that. [ Too late for everything. Just whip out your pretty iGadget already so he can be done with this. ] Go. Please.

[comparative_insanity]

[Thankfully, there is something about your job being a rather strenuous work-out session and the fact that you have to stay really fit to keep it, that means Fay isn't nearly as feeble as his thin frame would suggest. It's taxing, yes, but he can definitely manage it.]

Hush, sweetie, you ain't going anywhere in this state. Just around this table here, there's a darling. We're almost there.

[And he manages to manhandle that towering giant of a man through the door somehow, knowing his back will probably feel it in the morning.]

You're gonna have to kneel down now, you think you can do that for me if I help you a bit?

I APOLOGIZE FOR THIS ICON it was the only "leaning over" one I had sobs....

[secondcomingof]

[ Then he'll thank you for it later when he can find the words to, honestly. Words that aren't preceded (or succeeded) by vomiting. He's still vaguely impressed in his royally fucked up mind of minds that Fay gets them both into the bathroom with only a stumble or two to show for it—and he knows he'll be feeling it in the morning, too, among plenty of other nasty things—but for now, he just nods dumbly. Permits himself to be led along and instructed, because not having to do the leading for once is pleasant beyond description. He kneels without a single question or complaint, if shakily. ]

[masterofbling]

[His girls have already gotten more than enough pictures for him. That's not good enough. Not quite enough potential leverage.]

May, would you please help Captain Mass to his feet? He's had enough.

Never apologize. Never.

[comparative_insanity]

[He's thanking mercy for Casval's compliance, and tries to make sure he doesn't knock himself senseless on the toilet seat at the very least, although the landing probably wasn't too kind on his knees.]

Here, lean. [He gently guides him forward into the correct position for the most humiliating instance of hugging an inanimate object that most people ever achieve in their lifetimes.] Should I get you some water now, or do you think you can... manage on your own?

[secondcomingof]

[ Casval's only response is to lift a booted foot and growl. Bare his teeth and threaten a swipe.

But his fangs are dull, he's tired, and the moment he gets touched is likely the moment he'll go soft. Still, he puts on an admirable show. May had better watch her ankle if she doesn't want it broken. ]

[masterofbling]

Good, now carry him off.

[The girl looks apprehensive but she does as she's told, trying to loop one of Casval's arms over her neck so she can support him with her shoulders.]

[secondcomingof]

[ Well, this is a view he's seen before. Several times. Not today, not yet by some unspoken miracle, but yes, him and Mr. Toilet are very familiar with each other. Just never intimate in the company of others, which is why the tattered remains of Casval's pride surge to the forefront and he's shaking his head, refusing to believe this is happening and cowering towards the stall's corner instead.

For a man who looks as though he could send a brick wall crashing down with one well-aimed kick if he so chose, he seems as frightened as a child caught in a storm. A storm he can't escape, no matter how hard he tries. ]

[comparative_insanity]

Shh, it's okay.

[He reaches out and tentatively touches an arm that looks as if it could snap him in half. He hesitates, but then jumps to his feet, coming back with the promised water and kneeling down next to Casval again. Once more he loops an arm around him, this time around his shoulder, and gently coaxes him forward while he presses the glass to his lips, tilting it.]

You're gonna have to drink some, sugar, that'll make it all a lot easier.

[secondcomingof]

[ Casval is pulling away. No.

Looks like this is going to be a team effort. Even drunk, he's a force to be reckoned with. You'll have to go all in on this one, Richard. Everyone pitches in for the sake of a scandal. ]

[masterofbling]

[You have no idea how much he'd usually charge for this, Casval. Sighing, he snaps his fingers and gestures for all his girls to pitch in. His calendar girls. Twelve of them all named for months of the year. Better not fuck them up too bad, Captain Mass. Big Dick needs them for a photoshoot next week.]

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

[reapsthewind]

[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.]

[secondcomingof]

[ The voice is comforting. He's heard it before, on the network. The same network he'd been endeavoring to ignore ever since... well. Casval is only vaguely aware that Fay has left and only vaguely aware when he returns, though his lips part on instinct when something is pressed there. He drinks, easily. He's only been drinking for the better half of the day, after all. ]

Who...?

[ ...are you is the part he doesn't get to finish, muddled and muttering, regarding Fay through sluggish eyes. ]

[comparative_insanity]

I'm Fay Forster. From the network. I recognized you from that video. Drink some more.

[He isn't really going to take no for an answer, and it's either drink or get incredibly wet at this point. He's done this before, with friends and - on a few rather disappointing occasions - dates, so he knows the drill. Has been through it a couple of times himself, and thankfully around people kind enough not to take advantage of his situation.]

[secondcomingof]

[ Well, shit.

Trouble had walked in the door and now trouble was barreling down the turnpike in the form of slender legs, high heels, and criminally short skirts. Casval makes a weak effort to resist but it's no good. No good at all. Big Dick was right: he wants to make a mistake.

He wants to make a mistake for every damn month of the year for all the mistakes made in a single day. Casval shoots a glare over his shoulder at Richard and murmurs a terse, frightened, fuck you once he's subdued. He'd pay for this now but you'll pay for this later, ten times over, mark his slurred words.

Casval can put mothers to rest, but grudges last forever. ]

[secondcomingof]

[ ...the video. So is was true, then. He was also one of the chosen. The victims, more like, and he snorts a little in remembrance of his confidence back then compared to his miserable lack of it now, but otherwise does as he's told. For all their differences in rank and overall lot in life, Casval is displaying remarkable deference to Fay. Maybe because he's something there, something solid to hold onto. Something, against his prickly nature, he's clinging to. Don't go. ]

Why is this happening?

[ A vague question, ultimately, referring to any number of happenings. Why was he broken down in a bar, being soothed in the arms of a stranger? Why was he haunted by a man that both was and wasn't him? Why did that boy have to die? Why couldn't all the alcohol in the world wash this away?

Despaired, he chokes back what must've been the hundredth sob of the night. ]