melodiesofeternity | Raise a Glass [OPEN]

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Raise a Glass [OPEN]

Who: The XV Cast and You!
When: June 6th
Where: Curti Center, Jiminy's Juicery (bar)
What: After saving innocents from the Dream Width, some people just need a drink.
Warnings/Notes: Alcohol consumption, possible violence, whatever people do in bars.

Their first foray into the search and rescue business in the Dream Width had been intense, to say the least. Stressful, heartbreaking, exhausting, and enlightening were other words some might use to describe the experience. After a night of rest and a day to somewhat sort things and people out, the next evening brings about a mighty need to head to the local tavern. Some drink to forget, some drink to remember, some drink to relax. There are even representatives of the Bard's Guild providing live music. You can try to make a request, but chances are they don't know your foreign songs.

Maybe you were invited by one of the excitable young men from Lucis, or maybe you came on your own. There's enough room in the bar for quite a few people, so long as they're of age. Sit right at the bar, or pull up chairs around a table, the choice is yours.

[OoC: Make your own toplevel or tag around. Please put content warnings as necessary. Have fun!]

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To Clarus' credit he didn't pause or double-take at Regis' proclamation. Instead he just nodded and stood, leading the way (with a bit of a sway in his step) out of the bar and into the fresh night air. The stars shone brightly, and the drunk man took a moment to peer up at them as his eyes adjusted to the darkness once they were out of the immediate vicinity of the bar's bright lights.

"The stars are all different here," he commented, though it was hardly the first time he'd looked up at them. "I wonder if some are the same, and we're seeing them from the other side or something."

It was probably a good thing, though Regis would have stood by his words.

He did breathe out slightly easier once they were outside, however. There were still eyes on him, just not... Not eyes that knew him and didn't know him at the same time. Eyes that needed to look up to him, for their sake, not his.

"They're different. But, if I remember my lessons sufficiently, even if our stars, our Star is out there, it may still be too far to ever see.

"And we could be... somewhere else entirely." Regis was not unused to that thought, considering where Bahamut rested. "Would it be easier for you if our stars are visible?"

"I don't know." Beyond navigating by the stars, Clarus knew little of astronomy. Back home he knew the pattern of the sky as a survival tactic, but the in-depth whys and hows of it weren't anything he'd been taught. And why would he? Humans didn't travel the stars and nothing traveled from them. Clarus was far from an uneducated man, but his education lay elsewhere in more practical and political things.

"I suppose it doesn't matter," he shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at Regis before resuming their forward movement at a slow pace. They needed more distance from the noise of the tavern. "I'll never see those stars again."

Ah. That.

Regis had his breath knocked out of his lungs. He had been almost sure that it was the case - if not Clarus's time, should they be different, then by Noctis's. But hearing it from Clarus... That was different.

(It was because of him. Clarus had practically said it, only minutes earlier. Even if it somehow wasn't his failure - and he doubted that - Clarus Amicitia was dead because Regis Lucis Caelum was dead. And that was...)

"I'm sorry, Clar." Through and through. "At least I... Didn't do it stupid and young?"

Was that better? He had let down his people and he had let down those he loved. When he should have been experienced and wise...

Regis took a sharp breath. That drink was definitely not helping. Instead, he just lengthened his stride a bit and shoved his shoulder against Clarus's.

[So... everything was written in stone, as they say. Ignis can't help the growing bitterness towards the Six, towards the Kings of Old, towards everything that demands a sacrifice of life. And the fact that his hands are completely tied in that regard is only making him even more frustrated.

The refill of Ignis' drink is gone in almost an instant and the advisor has to hold himself back from just slamming the glass against the counter.]

Why... why can't the Six take me instead? I mean nothing. [He chuckle is void of happiness.] ...maybe that's why.

[Ignis is silent for a long moment, watching the Bartender refill his drink again. He doesn't feel drunk. He feels angry.]

Before... [he starts slowly,] before I met you at the altar, one of the messenger dogs, Pryna, fell before me. She shoved me the vision of things to come. [He wasn't looking at Ravus, until that moment when he turns his head to look at him.]

Why did she show that to me?

Maybe Ignis will end up pointing it out again when he's not sober. He likes poking his King about it- Noct gets all pouty. According to Lord Clarus though, he's better than King Regis so that's a plus?

A praying mantis? "We have similar things. We have- brutal bees, killer bees, soldier wasps and killer wasps. I suppose praying mantis is a queen of the swarm?" It's usually like that but he wouldn't be surprised if it isn't. It's space after all.
...maybe it's a swarm of praying mantises! Okay, that image is disgusting.

"If I ever come across it, I will." He doesn't actively search for booze, he has other things to attend to. Also, it would look bad on the advisor of the King to be seen drinking on a regular basis. He's not alcoholic.

And this guy is cheating. Definitively cheating somehow. Can person cheat in darts? Gi gets a frown from Ignis:"Luck or skill?" Not that it matters, he has to take two shots. He braces himself and takes one and makes a pause for a few moments, before taking the second one.

The burn disappeared from the amount of alcohol he had. "...My turn now, correct?" He needs to hit the bullseye too before this booze properly makes him unable to focus.

And what do you know- bullseye for him as well. And he can feel it was a pure luck- his hand slipped a bit, he was aiming too high.

"Drink up. I would like not to be the only one intoxicated around here."

"Oh. Me too. Think it was yer leg."

Castor rolls a little onto her side so she can actually look at Noctis properly. "'S nice yeah. But 's not good te stay here. People're walkin. An' trippin'."

[Ravus sets his glass down with a clank, brow furrowing in anger, and reaches out to grab Ignis' shirt to make sure he has his full attention.]

Listen to me, you fool, I've seen what you did for your king. I chose to ally myself with you. You are NOT nothing, and to say such is to demean your prince's judgement and my own.

[He withdraws his hand.]

If Pryna showed you, it was the Gods' will that you know. There is no point in wondering why when it comes to the Astrals' games. It changes nothing. [His voice softens.] All you can do is stay by his side and lend him your strength.

"Tchh. If 'M sloppy enough te get nabbed by the authorities, I deserve it." She looks over at her Moogle with a bit of a smile, then, "'ey Benny, go get me something sweet te drink ye?"

When the Moogle flutters off, Castor turns back to Shiro. "Yes an' no, " she says propping her head on her hand, "I got questions ye, but I dunno if ye can answer 'em. All that was jus'. So far past anythin' I know I don' think I'd understand yer answers in the first place."

[Ignis hears what Ravus is telling him, but the core of the words are not reaching him. At least not right now, while he's drunk and mind set on one lane to nowhere. He doesn't even react when Ravus grabs him aside from the reflexive grab onto the counter so he doesn't fall off the barstool.

He has so many questions that he will never get an answer to and that the other man will probably yell at him for again. But the alcohol had magically removed his mind to mouth filter.]

What's the point of showing me if they are not letting me change his fate? Do they draw some sadistic amusement in my helplessness? [He's seriously glad his asterisks is not on the black mage or this bar might've been set on fire.]

I never planned on leaving his side. Ever. Even after the consequences of the Ring settle in. I just-...['don't want to see him to die' dies on his lips.]

[Ravus' face shutters off any emotions when Clarus leaves off his barb for words of consolation.

Had Clarus evoked her name with anything other than sincere reverence and regret for her loss, Ravus might have put his fist through the old man's face for daring speak it. But this, he does not know how to respond to.]

...it would seem news travels fast, even to the dead.

[For him, the loss is still fresh, barely two days old. But time means nothing here. He turns away from the elder Shield.]

She fulfilled her calling. [It feels important, in that moment, that the Lucian know it.]

"If this is the hooch yer used to, I'd say ye lived like royalty."

In lieu of a further answer, she flags the bartender over to ask for another pair of shots. "Never thought I'd see th' day where sabotender juice was a good drink."

Silence. The Jabberwock ate a glaive. He'd seen them before too. The glittering crystalline weapons circling Noctis and unleashed to fight on their own. The sheer power of it hadn't taken away from how beautiful their deadly dance was... He stares down at his glass in thought. Grief whispering up through the cracks of his iron defenses.

'One way or another, they who wield the light of the Lucii have to face the fact that they will burn. One way or another. Even me.'

Shiro's hand clenches on his glass. It has to be done. Someone has to stand against the darkness and push it back. Noctis is that person and yet. That man on the walkway...it all feels like a manipulation and the King is a sacrifice when a better way could be found. Can...it be found? He realizes he'd been silent for a minute or more. Shiro lifts his head and takes a sip to hide his brooding thoughts.

"Those crystal weapons that appeared for you, right? Those are the glaives?"

It's easy to fall into the silence. For anyone else, it would probably just seem like he's asleep. In fact, it would be normal for him to just... drift off. He's known to do it.

But then the thoughts he'd been trying to drink to forget come back. That vision from Ignis' memories, how all twelve of his ancestors would... and then his father...

It's a good thing that his head is resting on the table and his arms block out the sight, he figures.

"...Yeah. In this case." Because it wasn't capitalized- I mean, what? "The 'glaives of rulers past'..." He says, waving it off. "In this case, it was the Sword of the Tall."

"My bad." At least he'll admit it. "'was someone's foot fer me, too."

Whose, he has no idea. Too drunk to really notice. Yet he does try to push himself off the ground to at least sit up. Whoo boy. The room's still spinning.

He'd apologize for putting her through this if he was lucid enough to realize that he may have crossed a boundary that shouldn't have been crossed. But, childhood friend. A childhood friend that is very warm. His filter is gone.

He'll be so sorry about this in the morning, but right now the words were just... escaping his lips without even thinking about them. Yet he hears his name so he pauses, looks up to her with a sad look.

"I always do." It's... a brutal kind of honesty. Because he does worry, a lot. It's just usually he's able to hide it behind a mask of dry humor or false apathy because it's draining. But that settling against him feels nice so it's a semi-decent distraction. Especially after she hugs him. That takes a minute to process.

As do the words, which he is not sober enough to fully appreciate. So he'll just hug back and try to remember them for when he's sober. Though he does mutter into her shoulder. "May need t' remind me in the mornin'."

Because, yeah. He realizes he isn't fully there right now.

Noct may be drunk, but he's just lucid enough to catch that note of sadness. Sadness that is not allowed at the moment. So he hugs back tighter, too. Nuzzling a little bit into his shoulder and completely forgetting about the decreased age gap. Because it's him; he's really here.

"Mm... 'Never do." Which is probably at least a tiny bit reassuring. Even though Regis has no idea at this point of time.

"Bloody feet," Castor grumbles, trying to get back up onto her own, "trippin' people left 'n right."

She stands, finally, and she's a little wobbly but seems otherwise fine as she leans over to give Noctis a hand up as well. "C'mon you. Yer face is too pretty te stay on the floor."

Selphie eyed Noctis curiously as she leans in a bit closer to get a better look at him. Not quite that short, pale, very messy hair. She's reminded of a description of someone with that kind of appearance not too long after they had all arrived. She tried to hide the mildly surprised look on her face as she realized that she's seen that face before. The lack of recognition in meeting her is leading her towards a conclusion that this is not Ardyn.

"Hmmmm... I've just hit the legal drinking age around here and I grew up in a military academy so I'm not really familiar with them either." She confessed.

Getting out of Noctis' bubble, Selphie turned her attention back to the selection of drinks that she can't really get a good look at. She could ask the bartender if he'd name off a few bottles at random but their relationship wasn't exactly cordial at that point in time. There was one to find out two little pieces of information that were burning a hole in Selphie's mind as she eventually leaned forward over the counter to get a better look at the bottles.

"I wonder if they have any of the same drinks they had at Aqures Ixen?" She wondered out loud while dropping an intentional hint to see if this person is definitely not who she thinks he is.

Oh hey. "You swear like Iggy," he mutters, because his drunken brain can only really think of his brother and adviser when someone says 'bloody' anything and they aren't talking about the state of being covered in blood.

He takes that hand, though. Careful to not drag her back down as he puts more weight on his feet. He's also wobbly, but a decent amount more than Castor herself. It's a miracle he doesn't have the hiccups, too. "Thanks." Is it for the hand up? Or the compliment? Who knows, but it's probably both.

Selphie watched as Clarus cast a dangerous smile at the bartender who quickly grumbled an apology before the Vaikunthan version of a Cherry Limeade was presented to the perky brunette. The bartender knew when not to pick a fight with a patron who could likely snap him in half as he walked away with a polite suggestion to not go overboard on the adult beverages. There was a bit of emphasis on the "adult" portion of the advice but the perky brunette shrugged her shoulders before sticking her tongue out at the bartender.

She took a sip of the drink before grinning brightly at Clarus. Somebody may or may not have just earned the adoration of a fangirl.

"Thank you," she said politely enough. "Can I buy you a drink as a thank you?"

The old knight hesitated, trying to muddle through his mind how to word his reassurance to Regis. "I don't regret anything. Well... much." He regretted leaving his children behind. He regretted that, despite his efforts, he hadn't been able to fight hard enough to save Regis. But they'd both known it was coming. "We made our choices, and we made our peace with them."

No need to tell him the details. And actually once the words were out of his mouth Clarus regretted all of them. He hadn't really meant to bring their deaths up at all. Damned alcohol. But that too was his choice.

He stopped, the tavern distant and the voices and sounds from within faint, and turned to face his prince. He held him by the shoulders and studied him a moment, searching for... he didn't know what. The edges of the mask, he supposed.

"What we did... that night, we did with pride and heads held high," he said softly, then drew the younger man into his arms and held him close to his chest. "Never think even once in your life that you forced me to do anything, or that my fate and misfortunes were somehow your fault. I followed you because you were my king, my truest friend, and..." That he didn't finish, letting it trail off into the night.

Fangirl or not, that wasn't why he'd done what he did. He was a paladin here, and before that title was given to him the old knight filled such a role anyhow. To see anyone treat another like that was rude and uncalled for. If the bartender or anyone else had ever dared to treat his own daughter in such a manner in front of him, they'd have more than a wounded pride.

"You are most welcome, my lady," he replied politely with a slight bow of his head. "Thank you for your kind offer, but I am quite content with what I have for the moment." Later tonight? He'd partake more. For now he was still trying to unwind from earlier tensions.

There was a giggle coming out of Selphie's mouth before she could stop it. She'd never been called a lady before and was probably the furthest from the notion as she took another sip of the limeaid. She grimaced a bit at the burn of the vodka in it but didn't really mind it that much. If it would help in forgetting what had happened in the nebula's, Selphie was down with drowning her sorrows in alcohol.

"The offer stands for later then," she replied. "I think we were stuck in Reno's memory together, right?"

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Raise a Glass [OPEN]

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