Raise a Glass [OPEN]

[lordshield]

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!]

Comments

[lordshield]

[I - 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall]

Whose idea it had been to come to the bar exactly wasn't clear. Maybe it was a group decision. Clarus certainly knew he needed a drink after the adventure they'd just had. And... the adventure that was just beginning, he thought as he watched a rather younger Regis socialize with anyone who would pay him attention.

Rather than mingle, the older man had settled himself in a chair against the wall, a double whiskey neat in one hand for the purpose of sipping for now. He was in a position where he could survey the entire bar and move quickly if he needed to. Habit, of course. For now he'd just sip, remain sober, and watch.


[II - 76 Bottles of Beer on the Wall]

A little later into the night saw the old man relaxing a bit, and he currently sat at the bar, sideways so he didn't have his back to the rest of the room. "Let's see... Shall we take a few shots?" He asked whoever he might have dragged to the bar with him, or whoever he knew that was nearby, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Be warned, this man can hold his alcohol like a champ. That is, until he can't. And then...


[III - 15 bottlse og beer ont he wal] - Sing along edition

Alright. Clarus was ready to admit he was smashed now. The defining factor was the fact that the Bards were starting to sound good and that just couldn't be right. Those spoony bards...

"Okay, try this one," he encouraged, humming a few bars for the bard with the guitar to copy, but the man failed and Clarus scowled. "Give me that." The guitar was plucked from the poor innocent man's hand and the Shield took a moment to adjust it awkwardly in his grip before getting it right and setting it across his lap like he might know what he was doing. Incidentally after a few sloppy chords, it seemed he did. He played strummed the notes for the bars he'd just tried to hum, then handed the guitar back.

"Just repeat that and follow along, you'll be fine." The idea of following along with whatever was about to happen appeared to horrify the guitarist, but he did as he was told, and after a few repetitions, Clarus began to... sing? Uh, yeah... he's definitely singing. And actually, it's not bad at all.

1?

[boomchucka]

A rumor about a party happening at the local watering hole managed to make its way around the Curti Centre which was reason enough to draw Selphie out of her usual routine. She was in dire need of a distraction, of something considerably happier than dwelling on her own thoughts. She'd made her way down the bar and tried to order something with a punch, only to be told that she looked to be about fifteen and was given a grape soda instead.

"I'm not joking," she argued with the bartender. "I'm going to be twenty next month!"

"Yeah, yeah," the bartender continued in a dry tone. "That's what the all say."

So there was one Selphie casting a baleful look at the bartender who seemed quite content on grinning at her and shaking their head. The perky brunette eventually sat on a barstool with a huff and sipped at her soda.

[chocobuster]

[ A; Head in the Clouds ]

If tossing and turning in his bed while struggling to find that sweetspot of rest was going to be the way that he spent his night, he may as well have spent it doing something more productive. Or rather, as productive as one could be when they were still wrapping their head around everything that happened to them. By this point, Cloud was fully aware of his own sense of self once more. Tomorrow he would reach out to one of the many guilds wherein Kumo told him that he could find new strength and learn more about this world and perhaps even himself.

Until then? Cloud found himself in the company of yet even more strangers. Not that it would have been the first time as the young blond stepped foot in the bar. It held a nostalgic air to it, albeit probably a little more clean compared to the 7th Heaven's residence in the slums. Having not accepted any new job for himself just yet, the man was still adorned in the military uniform of SOLDIER, though he felt a little light without any kind of equipment on him. Not that he was expecting any kind of trouble so soon.

Hopefully.

Cloud decides to sit right up at the bar, spinning only briefly in his stool as he leans against the counter with a somewhat tired look in his eyes. Whether he was here to drink to forget, to remember, to relax...the young swordsman was bound to find his answer somewhere tonight.

"I didn't take you for the drinkin' type, kupo." Cloud's mako blue gaze flickers to his companion that flutters nearby. "I'm not." But that didn't mean he couldn't. He orders a shot of something mild to start, intending to keep to himself to start the night.

[ B; "Give me something hard." ]

It's been about an hour into the night and Cloud's already into his fourth shot and single whiskey on the rocks. He's been generally quiet, gotten up to leave the bar area and sit down at a lone table, get up and do a couple of squats on the spot, but for the most part, Cloud's been talking with his companion. Currently, with only a slight slur to his tone that's otherwise coherent enough?

"What?! You mean to tell me that Moogles don't have pompoms where you're from?!"

Another sip of his drink before looking up at his partner. "Mogs. But-" "Moogles, kupo!" "M'gonna start callin' you Kumog."

"And you knew a giant stuffed Moogle?"

"Rode on a...mn. Lil' robot cat rode on top of it. Yeah."

"You have strange friends, kupo."

To that, Cloud's eyes return to the jingling ice in his glass on the table, his lips faintly curling up. "...yeah. I do."

II

[littlemhigan]

"Anythin' worth shootin?"

Castor is...in her cups. It's hard to tell how far gone she is, but there's a telling glass to her gaze and a certain restraint to her movement; like she's thinking about what she's doing instead of moving naturally.

She squints from Clarus to the bar, trying to read the top shelf. "Dunno what all the good stuff here is."

[littlemhigan]

7 PM

Castor is sitting by herself in a corner, slowly nursing a glass of something or other. Benny the moogle is perched on the table beside her, also sipping at whatever it is that Moogles drink. As she's been for the last few days, Castor is...not brooding, but nevertheless pensive.

The memory had been. Intense. She stares at her empty drink before standing abruptly. "Gettin' another one. Ye want somethin?"

"I'm okay for now, Kupo...but maybe slow down?"

"Nah. Slow gets ye killed."



10 PM

Castor is. Drunk? A bit? Her mood has improved at any rate and she's enthusiastically engaging in whatever's going on. Sing along? Hell yeah she's joining in! Dancing? You bet she dances like a white girl. She seems ready and willing to yammer away at you about anything at all...except what brough her here in the first place.



......late.

Well she hasn't fallen over yet but she's certainly close. Abandon all hope ye who thread here.



BARFIIIIIGHT

Fuck it. She probably started it.

[chocobosnap]

[The party don't start til I walk in.]

The entire dream business was rough. Honestly, Prompto hadn't even wanted to come out, he wanted to curl up somewhere and ride out the anxiety and horrors on his own.

Noctis hadn't taken that as an answer, even when he tried hiding in the chocobo pen.

So, as a favour to his best friend, he's there, trying not to look pale and shell-shocked, offering an uneasy smile to anyone who wanted to greet him, but his heart didn't seem to be in it.

[One bourbon, one scotch, one beer.]

In that case, Prompto seemed to be throwing himself headfirst into this activity - as soon as he finishes one drink, he orders the next. It wasn't doing anything to stop him from fidgeting and being uncomfortable, nor was it making him any more social, it seemed to be having the opposite effect.

Oh well, he thought to himself, and tipped the beer back, downing it in one shot.

Some people drank to forget.

[Blame it on the hooch]

Normally, he might have been a happy drunk, but considering everything had been miserable as of late, he was looking awfully melancholy.

Prompto was going to be terrible company, now that he was resting his head on the bar, arms draped around it. Close enough to a place to sleep.

He probably should have stopped at a reasonable amount of alcohol.

Before they go...

[chocobosnap]

There was just a matter to be dealt with before they left, apparently.

Prompto wasn't really aware that it was going to be much of a concern to Clarus, his origins. He should have forseen a necessary discussion incoming, and yet he hadn't.

After the memories he was feeling down, haunted anew with a fresh take on the same memory, the same horror he'd experienced. He knew where the rest of the memory went and that alone was enough to send a tremor down his spine.

He swallowed and tried to put it out of his mind.

In fact, he was settled on the living room couch, legs crossed as he closed his eyes. He took a long, slow breath in, and then exhaled. It was a calming technique he'd picked up for times like this. He wouldn't even see Clarus approach.

[lordshield]

"There'..." He took a moment to squint as well, carefully reading the labels as best he could. At home he knew what to ask for, here he didn't. None of the brands were familiar, though they seemed to share many of the same types of alcohol.

"Whiskey, tequila, vodka if you hate yourself," he stated nonchalantly. "Ten Thousand Needles? That looks fancy."

[lordshield]

But approach the older man did, looked rather exhausted and irritable himself. While he was happy to have his family back by his side, and in a way happy to have Regis back... the prince at this age was a handful.

"Prompto, a word?" He asked, though his tone suggested there was no room for the blond to deny the request. Clarus didn't sit, instead standing before Prompto. From a strategic standpoint he was blocking the young man from making a quick forward exit, and if he tried to bolt to a side he could grab him. His stance was also probably a bit intimidating, sturdy and tall and almost looming as he was. There wasn't the familiar gleam of kindness in his eyes, but the cold calculating look of the King's Shield and adviser.

[chocobosnap]

He'd been counting in his head, one, two, three- counting the length of his breaths as he tried to find his centre of calm and where all that sunshine and optimism came from.

Prompto wasn't expecting to be approached, and he jumped a little appropriately and opened his eyes.

"Dude, you can't sneak up on a guy like that!" He exclaimed without giving much thought to whom he was speaking.

He looked up at Clarus' serious demeanor and the fact he was somewhat blocking him - too close, his mind supplied briefly but he tried to squash that down - and he frowned.

"Uh, okay."

[lordshield]

She truly does look younger than twenty, but Clarus recognizes her as one that came through the Dream Width at the same time as he, and he'd encountered her briefly in Reno's dream... But laws were laws.

"Do you have the identification card they gave you at arrival?" he interjected, giving the bartender a slight nod of acknowledgment. If he was doing his job, then good on him. If he was needlessly antagonizing a young lady, and grinning like a fool about it, that was unacceptable.

[warpstriking]

I. The Calm Before the (Drunken) Storm

Well, that had all escalated rather quickly. Noctis had been the one to bring it up in passing in general that they should probably unwind, maybe get a drink. Especially considering how rough some of the memories were. There was also the excuse of forming a sense of camaraderie between those who've been here a couple months and the fresh meat newcomers, but it really was just an excuse. At least to him.

Normally, he only drank in the privacy of his apartment, but that poor thing is like rubble now and that simply encourages him to walk up to the bar after making sure Prompto was in a more secluded part of the bar that wouldn't racket up his anxiety further. Besides, he knows how he gets a few drinks in. So he makes himself comfortable at the bar, waiting for the bartender to get to him as he looks at the selection on the shelves behind them...

II. Ninety-Nine bottles of Firagaball on the Wall...

Later in the evening already has Noctis relaxing just a little bit more relaxed as he orders his third shot of a cinnamon whiskey he found was oddly similar to one they had back home. And, after the canned coffee shenanigans his first day here? Eh, not looking a gift chocobo in the beak. He was to the point it was a kind comfort as he lightly clinks the glass on the table and downs it.

The familiar burn is so much better than the other kind of burn, if you get what he means.

"Um," says a slightly concerned Ivory, as she nurses "Shouldn't you slow down, kupo?"

Noctis only motions to the half-eaten slice of pizza on his plate in front of him. See? At least he's responsible and not drinking on an empty stomach. He's fiiine. (He's not fine everything sucked.)

III. Let's Cling Together

It's almost 23:00 judging by the clock on his slate, which his moogle just checked to be absolutely certain that he had his asterisk set to ninja instead of- "Noct-?" Wait, where did he...? "Oh, Good King's sake..."

There is a very distressed moogle looking for her royal pain of a companion, but really, she shouldn't be too worried. He can't get that far without his preternatural warping ability (thank the gods). There's also less chance of him just roll-

No, no he's just sitting at another table. And if it's with someone he knows well enough? Well, he hopes they don't mind their personal space bubble being invaded. Otherwise, he's just sitting there in his chair, eyes a bit glossed over and suddenly feeling very chatty for once. At least, about anything other than what got them here in the first place. (It's embarrassing that all he knows is ballroom dancing, mmkay.)

...Yeah okay, and if he isn't grabbed by one of the others he might just be rolling around because he's too drunk to actually parkour. Acting like a cat high on catnip. Yep.

[OOC: If there's another thing you wanna do with Noct feel free to poke me. Otherwise, I'll match your formatting. o7]

[lordshield]

"I was hardly sneaking," he stated flatly, a little more edge on his words than he probably intended. When Prompto seemed ready, the older man took a breath and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I want you to tell me about what I saw yesterday," he ordered now rather than requested, his militaristic mannerisms coming to the surface completely. "What happened before that memory began, and what happened after. Spare no detail."

[chocobosnap]

He would react to that flat comment, but honestly, what follows is more upsetting. No, Clarus hadn't been sneaking around, but he also thought he was in a safe place to try and focus himself and try and improve his mental state.

Prompto had misjudged that, apparently because Clarus was presenting himself in a somewhat threatening manner, and the order made him glance away.

"I don't-" His voice caught. "I don't want to talk about it."

[lordshield]

Whatever softness was left on the man's face hardened when Prompto refused. He clenched his jaw and his eyes narrowed just a bit.

"Let me rephrase," he began once more. "You are going to tell me everything about that memory." The fact that Prompto didn't want to, aside from the whole patricide thing (which honestly seemed justified), made Clarus think he really did have something to hide.

[chocobosnap]

"I don't-" Prompto began, his voice catching in his throat.

"Why? I don't want to talk about it! It's bad enough I have to remember it!" He protested, he wasn't seeing it from Clarus' point of view, he was focused on the pain the memories caused him.

He'd already confessed to Noct, in a good deal of detail, and Ignis slighter details, and it wasn't enough to make his nightmares disappear. All they were, were nightmares to him at that point. He was doing his best not to show how damaged he was.

[lordshield]

The highly-trained and experienced shield wasn't about to give in to the discomfort of this young man who might be an enemy. Prompto's breakdown just seemed to turn Clarus into even more of a steeled force.

"What are you hiding? What happened after what I saw?" He pressed, remaining firmly planted in place. His voice was low and even, a growl that carried between them and not much further. "You're a Niflheim experiment, I saw as much. What was your purpose?"

[chocobosnap]

He curled up in a protective ball - not out of fear, but because he was stressed and he shook his head.

"What?"

To put it so bluntly, to question him when even his friends hadn't. He stared at Clarus a moment, opened his mouth and closed it again.

"If you saw it all..." He breathed in a shaky breath. "Then you know I was stolen as an infant. So I don't know, what it would have been. Probably to die as an MT."

Prompto's voice cracked. "I'm not hiding anything!" He sounded pained. "I just don't want to talk about it because no one likes to relive torture." He let out a frustrated sound, he needed to move, to do something and put his hands down on the couch and stood up to go.

[lordshield]

"So they said," he agreed with a hint of cynicism in his voice. "But they knew you were there. What did you find out after?"

Moving away was not allowed. The larger man reached out and grasped the smaller by his upper arm, a vice-like grip that didn't promise to relent any time soon. He may have been stripped of some of his abilities form home, but his strength and reflexes remained. Prompto was pushed firmly back onto the couch and the spark of Clarus's glare suggested he should not move if he didn't want to find himself in pain.

"I am asking you questions, boy," he snarled, looking down his nose at the boy. "Why did they torture you? Who brought you to Lucis?"

[hashtagdaddy]

He'd been spending some time reading on his bed when some raised voices caught his attention. Not one to ignore trouble, especially between his friends and family, Gladio rose and followed the increasingly irritable voices.

Only to hear his father call Prompto a Nifflheim experiment.

Stunned for a moment, he stood silent in shock. What the hell? Why would his Dad even think that? Then Prompto mentioned torture and Gladio saw red. He didn't pick up anything his dad said after that, too focused on getting there right now to put a stop to ... whatever this was.

Arriving at the scene, sharp eyes took in the sight of Prompto on the couch with his arm gripped tightly by one Clarus Amicitia and Gladio sprang into action.

He vaulted over the couch, landing to his fathers side and forcing himself between the two. With a forceful shove, he tried to drive Clarus back a step (and dislodge his grip) as he growled.

"Dad, what the hell is this? Why are you interrogating him?" Gladio stretched one arm slightly behind him and to the side, attempting to create a barrier between Prompto and the open air, and planted his feet firmly.

He would not let his father hurt or upset his friend - his brother.

[chocobosnap]

"What more was there to find out?" Prompto cried out, pained emotionally although when Clarus got into his space, grabbed and manhandled him, his eyes flickered with fear. In that moment he was seeing that smug smirk of the Chancellor, not Clarus' grim expression.

"How should I know?" He cried out, breathing hard. How would he know who took him to Lucis? He was a baby. He was a helpless baby and he wasn't sure if his parents were involved or not, how would he know?

There was the sound of Gladio coming in and hopefully tearing them apart, but he used the chance to press himself into the back of the couch, breathing coming in sharp, quick breaths. The crowding, the fear, it was setting off a full blown panic attack which he did not need right then.

Prompto's voice was small, and he let out a sardonic laugh. "He did it for fun.I was the bait."

[spaceforged]

Settling down the storm

He had intended to go home and beat the crap out of the punching bag in the backyard until he was too tired to think. They’re no closer to an answer to why they’re here and he had seen...a lot of things that stirred up old ghosts and made new ones. Noctis had made the suggestion they hit a bar.

That’s how he ended up sitting at the corner of the bar with his back in the corner between the bar and the wall. He has a clear view of all the exits and anyone coming and going. Maybe he’s a bit on edge after all those memories. He has no desire to discuss their effects on him. The glass of whiskey on the bar top has been sipped off and on. It stays there whenever trouble rears up and he peels away from his spot to quell it.

While everyone starts getting deeper and deeper into their cups he will sbe mostly sober and keeping mishaps from getting bad. He doesn’t seem to mind. Even if he sighs exasperated or makes a face at something. “Okay, how about you sit down for a while.” And other such suggestions come from him when your chill fails you.

Even the rain must fall

He’s one of the last of their party to finally succumb to the alcohol in his system. The first sign? He is slower to respond to problems. He seems to consider if he should intervene or let them play out. A spark enters his grey eyes and he starts sitting with a thing of, what looks like pretzels, and his drink to let shit play out. He hasn’t been stupid about eating while he drinks but, there's just something about something you can crunch while everyone else loses it.

It isn’t he doesn’t care. He will intervene and almost seem sober and not halfway to tanked when he talks you down. No bar fights please. But he relaxes more and more, sitting at a table instead of at the bar. And finally,

I’d get up but ah who cares.

Shiro looks like he’s passed out. But when approached he opens one eye and signals for people to move on. “I’m not dead.” That seems to be about as much as one is going to get. Unless you’re older and clearly a soldier as well. One gets a ‘sir’ added at the end that sounds tired but still respectful. Even drunk off his ass he knows how to respond to his elders.

[ooc: If there's another thing you want to do with Shiro, hit me up with your ideas. Will match formatting.]

[littlemhigan]

"Ten thousand.....'S it made from cactuar juice or sommat?"

She gestures to the barkeep to produce two shots of the stuff and slides one to Clarus. She sniffs hers, considering it's content.

"Hm. Smells a right bit fancy if that's the case. Back 'ome, only the beggars an' refugees in Thanalan have to resort to sabotenders te get their drink. Ah well. Bottoms up?"

[lordshield]

Clarus definitely heard Gladio coming far before he saw him, and by the time his son was trying to get in between them Clarus was disengaging. A fight between the two Amicitias wasn't what he needed right now, but taking on his son wasn't outside the realm of possibility, the older man realized.

Posture remaining tense, Clarus took a somewhat defensive position as well. Feet spread, arms at his sides with hands balled into loose fists. If a scuffle were to ensue, he had no intention to be the instigator. But he'd certainly do his best to put Gladio out of the fight if it came to it.

"Did you know about this?" He asked his son, unblinking gaze fixed on his heir's to read his intents and movements, but believe that his peripheral attention was focused on Prompto to be sure the person in question didn't flee the scene. "Did you know the prince's closest friend was born to be a Nifflheim soldier?"

But Prompto's voice caught his attention and the knight shifted his gaze past his son toward the would-be magitek. "Just bait? Or did you have another purpose at Noctis's side?"

[hashtagdaddy]

Gladio glared at his father, eyes hard and unyielding. Every muscle was tensed and ready for a fight - one he hoped wouldn't come but had to anticipate just in case.

Prompto's breathing, all panic and fear, and his borderline-hysterical words tugged at his heart and suddenly he realized maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. A sharp whistle and Noodle floated over from where she'd been waiting in the hallway. With a nod of his head towards Prompto, the incredibly cuddly Moogle drifted over to press against the blond's side and wrap her little arms around him. "Choco, you're safe now - kupo."

Satisfied that Prompto would hopefully take some comfort from the gentle Moogle, Gladio answered his father's questions.

"I don't even know what you're talking about or why you're accusing him of anything, let alone calling him a Nifflheim experiment." He knew his dad wouldn't make accusations like that lightly, but where the hell did he even get this idea? Was it even true?

Not that it mattered. Regardless of his origins, which Gladio knew almost nothing about, Prompto was a Lucian through and through. He was one of them - a brother in arms. And, as a result of time spent together over the years, a true friend.

"Even if he was born in Nifflheim and meant to be a soldier for 'em, that doesn't mean anything. I'm not a Shield just because I was born for it - I'm a Shield because I trained for it. I devoted my life to it. Prom devoted his life to chocobos, photography, and the Crown. An' his purpose at Noct's side was to be a friend and a protector. Which he is."