paixaorpg | Alcohol, My Permanent Accessory [Completed]

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Alcohol, My Permanent Accessory [Completed]

Characters: Lucrecia Crescent, some Turks if they feel like it, and pretty much anyone else who wants to have tavern shenanigans!
Content: Lu find a bar while fleeing Vincent and commences drinking herself into a less-terrified and much less-inhibited stupor.
Setting: The Cheap Prayer [F5]
Time: Saturday, any time after noon, really
Warnings: Alcohol, Swearing, Drunkenness...

After that whole tangle on the message board and even more people warning her in her journal, a very frightened Lucrecia practically ran from Vanaheim gate in the direction of Cid's shop--or what she thought was Cid's shop. Spending nearly an hour out in the freezing rain, lost and terrified that a psychopathic serial killer would come running up to her at any moment, Lucrecia ducked under the eve of a rather run-down bar outside an equally run-down shack that seemed to be some sort of entertainment establishment. She had a good eye, and after four years of training, could spot a bar a mile away. Or...tavern. Or whatever it was. In any case, she leaned tiredly on the bar, taking a moment to catch her breath, tasting a sharp metallic tang in her mouth as she swallowed hard before ordering, "Gimmie a glass of brandy, two shots of whiskey, vodka on the rocks, and a dark ale." This had been one HELL of a morning.

She was served by a rather shocked-looking denizen of Paixao, and she downed the two shots in rapid succession, digging through her messenger bag and pulling out enough gil to cover it all. Grabbing the ale in one hand and slipping the fingers of her other hand into her two glasses, pinching them together for easy transport, Lucrecia picked up the remaining liquor and walked inside the establishment, blinking in the darkness, so relieved to finally be safe and out of the wind that she could almost cry right there.

She sat in a booth off to the side, setting down all but the glass of vodka and drinking it as she shimmied back to lean against the wall, her short legs resting along the booth's cushion, her heels sticking out into the room. Finishing off the vodka, she started on the brandy, the skin on her back crawling until she had it pressed to the wooden wall, a position that allowed her to survey the room and watch the door warily all at once. Or at least from the same vantage.

Once her brandy was gone, she waved over a waiter, asking for more brandy and a burbon, if they had any. Lucrecia started in on her ale, sipping it slowly and trying to relax and warm up. She was fine; she was safe, away from that murderer Vincent, and she was inside, and her hangover was finally starting to ease. Beginning to feel relaxed for the first time that day, Lucrecia surveyed the bar's patrons and staff warily, always keeping an eye on the door, not wanting to be surprised by anyone. Most people looked strangely uniform, with blond hair and blue eyes, so she quickly began to tune them out, her eyes alert for anyone who looked even slightly different.

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[ooc: You win the internet for using BNL song lyrics for your entry title. XD]

Legato had sat there much too long, doing nothing. He didn’t bother much with the journal that had been handed to him, but rather looked at all of the people. They were all the same. At least on his planet they looked slightly different, which made things exciting. How very boring.
He noticed her almost immediately, and nearly tipped his drink over when he saw her. No one here dressed or looked like she did. Obviously she wasn’t from here. He watched her down more drinks then what should be healthy before making any sort of approach. Placing his journal in the pocket of one of his coats, he stood from his seat and made his way to her.

Legato didnt think much of what he was going to say by the time he got to her, so he simply sat down on the other side of her and stared at her, waiting to see what she would do.

For someone so intent on being alert, it took her a ridiculously long time to notice the man sitting across the table from her. "Oh!" She jumped, her bottle of ale slipping from her hand and clattering to the table, empty enough to not spill in the instant it was on its side before Lucrecia righted it. Regarding the man nervously, a wave of panic swept through her as she realized that she had no idea what the insane Vincent person looked like.

Her hand slipped to the messenger bag she'd rested in her lap, worming its way discreetly in as she swallowed, staring at the man's frightening spiked shoulder and rather chaotic-looking golden eyes. "M-Mr. Valentine?" Please, God, don't be him... Though it made no sense why it wouldn't be. No one else was looking for her; no one else knew to come find her, that she was wearing a labcoat--oh. She'd posted it on a message board. Anyone who cared to know would know. The thought calmed her a bit, but her body didn't relax even the slightest bit until her fingers found in the bag what they'd been questing, a small can of mace. Fingers grasping the cold metal and feeling it warm beneath her fingers, she sighed a little, prepared to yank it out in an instant to defend herself.

Legato rested his back on the wood behind him and eyed the girls actions peculiarly.

“Your quiet noisy, aren’t you?” He murmured, which was his normal way of talking. He noted where her hands moved, but paid no real attention. “Valentine? Isn’t that a sort of holiday you humans celebrate? Or are you referring to a person.” Legato didn’t wait for a reply from her before he answered.

“No, I’m not Mr. Valentine.”

"Y--...oh..." Taking a moment to sip her ale, Lucrecia calmed herself, setting down the bottle with a rather delighted smile. "Sorry, that must be so awkward for you, me asking a strange question like that. My name's Lucrecia, but please, call me Lu--" Cutting off suddenly, realizing that people had the capacity to lie, she gripped her mace a bit more tightly, but then continued talking anyway. If he had come to kill her, tipping him off would be a bad way to go, and if he was telling the truth, then it would be terribly rude of her to not trust him.

"I've just arrived here," she stated suddenly, clearing her throat and drinking down the last of her ale as more of an excuse not to speak for a moment than anything else. "And I suppose I'm a bit noisy, though it is to be expected when you startle someone like that!" justified the woman with a grin. "In any case, it is a bar, after all, and...wait, did you say human?"

What was this place? Human? Human? As if he wasn't? As if there were any other kind? If she weren't so on edge, Lucrecia would have been absolutely fascinated. "Are you..." she began, clearing her throat before continuing, "somehow...not?" A thought struck her then. An alien! She'd been warned about aliens, sent to destroy the world... Though it was by that insane man, Vincent. Perhaps he wasn't so insane after all...

Legato was disappointed. He had hoped she had some answers, maybe was a resident here, but she wasn’t. His eyes glanced at a man that passed by them, but only out of habit. Legato chuckled then at her question, shifting his wait to rest his head on his left hand.

“Yes, I’m human.” He watched her moods change with interest. Women were so strange. One moment they were scared, the next comfortable, then scared again. “Where did you come from?” He asked her, his expression not changing.

Apparently quite content to chatter on despite the strange appearance and lack of varying expressions on the man's face, she answered, "Midgar! I was on my way to work when suddenly I found myself here. Well, not really on my way--thank you," stated the woman suddenly as a waiter set down her order, a glass each of brandy and burbon, and then continued without breaking stride, "--but more I woke up here. I drank rather hard last night, which was a shame, because today was supposed to be my first day at the lab, under Mr. Valentine, and I'm so excited--well, I was, anyway--and after a rather atrocious blackout--which led to the most horrific hangover, let me tell you--I found myself outside this city! Well, naturally I had to come in, looking for a redeye if anything, and I got this journal shoved into my hands! I've been playing with it for a while, figuring things out; apparently everyone has one, and they all talk to each other through it."

Pausing less for air than for a long drink of burbon (cheap burbon, too, she noticed with a slight grimace) she talked right on. "Well naturally I tried asking around for help, you know, where I was and if anyone could direct me to ShinRa--that's where I work--but then this person named Mr. Valentine began talking to me. It was really absurd, all these crazy things about aliens abducting me and being from my future, and how my employer had passed away and now a Mr. Hojo is my new boss, and then others began warning me against this crazy man, telling me that he was, in fact, crazy!" She giggled innanely; she really didn't need that last brandy. "Imagine that! A crazy person! And by that time he was coming to find me, so I left and came here. Well, not here, really--I was looking for Mr. Cid Highwind's shop, but I got lost and hangovers are the worst, and so naturally when I saw this place I ducked in out of the wind and rain for a while, to warm up and dry off, and to hide from the murderer, of course," she added, almost as if it were an innane detail only worthy of mention in passing.

At that moment, she finally shut up, taking a long drink of burbon, mostly so she wouldn't have to drink it anymore--it really was foul, and the brandy was much better tasting.

Legato began ignoring her after she said that you could talk to people through the journals. He made a mental note of it, thinking to himself that he could reach his master through the odd contraption. He looked away from her to gaze at the people in the shop. He noticed that nearly all of them indeed had a strange note book of sorts, either in use or visible and in a bag. When Lu was finally done talking, he asked “So you don’t know how you got here?”

A stupid question he immediately realized. Of course she didn’t. She just said she didn’t. He looked back at her flushed face and realized that she was drunk. “Do have intention of dying before your married?”

"Wh...?" Too bewildered by the question to be insulted, at least for the moment, she stayed silent, swirling her glass of brandy contemplatively. Dying before she was married? Her brain began attacking the question, overcomplicating it to an enormous degree, and even before she was done dissecting it, she was answering.

"Well, I don't plan on getting married, if that's what you mean; and I suppose no one really plans on dying, unless they're old or have a dangerous job. As a doctor, my job might be slightly dangerous, so I suppose I ought to plan for dying, though that doesn't mean I should plan on getting married, though if I might be dying then maybe I should be getting married; I've always wanted a family of my own and all, but not for a long time, down the road, but I suppose that want conflicts with never planning to get married, though there are families who have never been married and a child can happen anytime and not just in a married situation--trust me, I know. So maybe I should plan on dying and getting married, but of course you can't get married after you're dead, so I suppose no, I'm actually planning on dying after I get married, though I'm still unsure as to whether I plan to get married at all..."

Suddenly inhaling, she asked, "...Why? You don't want to marry me, do you?" How awkward! And then another thought struck her, a much colder, more sobering thought. "Are you threatening to kill me?!" squeaked the woman, hand white as it clutched her glass.

Legato shook his head slightly. “I was mearly pointing out that you were killing yourself. I have no intension to kill you yet. And certainly not marry you.” He inwardly gagged a little. “You sure do enjoy talking. Are you drunk?”

He leaned backward. While this conversation wasn’t all that productive, he did enjoy obviously scaring this girl. Her emotions were very random.

"Certainly not!" she snapped, looking sullen a moment before grinning a bit. "Well, maybe a little. You would too, after such a hard day." She reached out and patted his arm, though it was a bit awkward since it was across the table and she was rather short. "Don't worry; you're not the first person who's threatened to kill me today."

Something was nagging at the back of her mind, but she couldn't quite place it at the moment. Had she been sober, Legato's 'yet' would have immediately stuck in her mind, but for now, she recalled the 'I have no intention to kill you' part.

"And I'm quite glad about all of that. As I said, I don't really want to get married, at least in the conventional sense. I'm too young! At least in my opinion. I'm only 25, after...all... How old are you, Mr....erm..." She didn't even know his name, and he's proposed to her already! Sometimes being drunk was quite inconvenient, despite all its obvious benefits. "What's your name again?"

Legato looked for a long moment at the area of his arm that she had touched. He wasn’t used to people touching him, and found the lingering discomfort irritating.

“Legato.” Was all he said of his name. “People try to kill me all the time, and I have never turned to alcohol.” He eyed her many glasses, and wondered how many it would take to make her breath flammable, and if it were at all possible. An amusing image of the girl’s mouth catching fire from all her alcohol and talking flashed into his mind, and he chuckled.

[OOC: OmgLol. xD ]

"Hey, don't laugh--there's nothing wrong with this," she snapped, her bright green eyes narrowing a bit as she frowned. Really, those eyes were strange, almost too lurid to be natural. "Why do people try to kill you, Legato?" asked the woman suddenly, looking slightly nervous. Typically, people who got mixed up with death threats should be avoided. Though, she had just been threatened herself, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with her...

Legato thought for too long on her question, and stared at her face as though he were looking for an answer from her. He finally sighed, and said in a very quiet voice, “Because humans are irrational creatures that let emotions control them. Lets say I kill your sister. Well the natural human feeling is to get revenge isn’t it? Humans act out on these impulses much to often. Like you and your drinking.” He reached out and tipped one of her empty glasses over. “In short, people try to kill me because I’ve hurt them in some way or another.” The man chuckled again, and stared off into space, seemingly remembering something.

[ooc: Yes he is. ;_; ]

Perturbed, Lucrecia stared for a moment before reaching out and righting the empty glass, somehow very disquieted at seeing it on its side. "I--" Hmm. She couldn't decide what to say, and unfortunately, she couldn't say them all at once. "...I don't drink for revenge," concluded the woman finally, looking displeased.

And her inebriated mind finally put 'yet' and 'kill' together. And she was suddenly very unnerved. God, was everyone in this place insane or a murderer?

Hesitantly, her voice in almost a whisper, Lucrecia asked, "Why do you hurt people?" Maybe it was justified. There were causes and calls to hurt people, sometimes. Her stomach feeling queasy, she watched him warily, something very fragile about her tense, quiet unease, like the tremulous moment that a startled squirrel stands frozen before bolting for the nearest tree.

Legato smiled as he watched the frightened woman. “Think of it as ‘spring cleaning’.” Was all he said, before leaning back in his seat and watching her reaction.

Spring cleaning?! A hundred instant reactions all battled for expression on her thin face and unnaturally green eyes. It must have been quite amusing to watch, though Lucrecia felt horrible, frightened, disturbed, nauseous... "T--...s--wha..." Oh God. Everyone here was crazy. Oh God. This place was full of murderers. Oh God. The room was spinning slightly, and she found one hand gripping the table so hard her hand was white. Oh God. Why were her ears ringing? "Oh God..."

And then she threw up all over the table.

He was bewildered at her reaction. Defiantly not what he had intended. Legato let what had just happen precess in his head, smiled, and them began to laugh insanely. He ran a hand through his hair and covered his mouth, an attempt to make himself stop laughing, although it didn’t work. He gripped at his t-shirt, and through his hand said, “You’re a mess! What a pitiful human being!”

He calmed himself down and brushed his hair from his eyes. He took a long breath and looked briefly at the table before motioning for a towel or something to clean it up from one of the shocked waiters.

Her constitution was normally so strong, though she had just had a very trying set of experiences which led her to not only overdrink (she knew her limit), but to drink it all on an empty stomach. The extra booze and then the wave of terrified nausea at Legato's rather calm and frightening declaration that he killed people like others cleaned out a closet had been just enough to tip her stomach upside-down. "I have to go," stated the woman quite clearly, grabbing her messenger bag, a hand over her mouth as she jumped up and clacked headlong on her ridiculously high-heels to the bathroom, leaving Legato sitting alone at the table with the vomit, the empty glasses...and the tab.

In the bathroom, Lucrecia carefully took the time to wash her hands and face, about to rinse out her mouth when another wave of nausea hit. Pitching to the bathroom stall, she managed to retch very tidily, flushing it away and then continuing the washing hands, face, and mouth process until a third wave hit her.

They always came in threes... When it was done, she, being a doctor, obsessivly washed her hands again, washing her face and rinsing out her mouth, even going so far as to blow her nose--the horrible burning sensation in her sinuses was unpleasant, to say nothing of the smell of it. God, why hadn't she eaten? Honestly, stressful situations left her so incompetent.

Feeling much better now that she was tidy--Lucrecia disliked being dirty or mussed in all but a few choice ways--she dug in her messenger bag for her emergency kit, pulling out a small canvas bag with a large black serial number stitched into it. They were standard issue (not that Lucrecia had ever been enlisted, but she had managed to convince a couple boys to smuggle her some), and several of them were inside her bag. The one she pulled out was numbered 0982659201, and she sighed after checking the number, tucking it back inside and searching for another one. 0982659201 was her make-up bag, which she wouldn't need until after she found the other kit. Washing her face had removed all her make-up though, and she did look a sight, at least in her mind.

Removing another standard-issue bag, 0982659209, Lucrecia smiled, unzipping it to reveal a rather expertly put-together drunkard care kit. Removing the saline spray which would finally stop the burning in her sinuses, Lucrecia sighed and used it, slowly collecting herself from that wretchedly embarrassing scene out in the bar. If only there was some way she didn't have to go back out there and face them!

Employing a mint-spray breath neutralizer and swallowing a caffeine pill which would perk her up, Lucrecia replaced the kit and removed 0982659201 from her messenger bag, fastidiously reapplying her make-up in the mirror and calmly considering her options. She'd rather not face that room again, especially that insane killer Legato as he sat out there, laughing at her. What an uncompassionate--before the thought got any further, Lucrecia reminded herself that Legato killed people as spring cleaning, and that compassion wasn't to be expected.

Well, she thought, what goes around comes around. Finishing with her make-up and stowing everything carefully in her messenger bag, which she fastened carefully, Lucrecia regarded herself in the mirror for a moment before locating the shutter-like window in the back of the bathroom. She banged on it once with the heel of her hand to loosen it from its frame--it looked as if it had never been opened before--and then pushed it open, listening to the shrieking creak of the hinges with a wince. Honestly, did it take that much effort to keep up this place? In a rather ungainly fashion, Lucrecia clambered out the window, glad no one saw her as she fell onto the hard dirt outside the bar. Not her most graceful moment, to be sure. Standing, she brushed herself off and then walked quickly away from the bar, tucking back her hair before deciding to pull it out of its ponytail, only to construct a new one. She was off to find another bar, to start again, with a little more sense this time.

Legato sighed a content smile as he watched her walk away. He definitely had not thought he would scare her that badly, but it was an excellent outcome.

“Are you going to be pay, or is your wife?” A waiter asked, beginning to clean up the gross mess. Legato stared at him for a moment, before standing. Legato focused his attention on the waiter, and with ease slipped himself into the other mans mind, made him forget about the tab, and withdrew back into his own. The waiter focused his attention on the table, and continued cleaning up the vomit as Legato walked out of the bar.

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Alcohol, My Permanent Accessory [Completed]

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Dark Hair...?

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{Sorry for the Short post. ^_^;;

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{ Ok, Now I'm taking a shower. D: }

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Shortest post ever. You can hit me if you want. <3

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