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paixaorpg2006-09-27 07:23 pm
averyspecialguy.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-09-27 07:23 pm
Entry tags:
Morning After (not THAT kind....) [Completed]
Character(s): Gaston and Jack Skellington--and Bakura and Blue!
Content: A good time has been had by all--and now, is being slept off.
Setting: Haja o Que Houver [F4]
Time: Morning
Warnings: >=O SHHH! Gaston has a hangover!
Content: A good time has been had by all--and now, is being slept off.
Setting: Haja o Que Houver [F4]
Time: Morning
Warnings: >=O SHHH! Gaston has a hangover!
Jack had to admit, that had been an enjoyable way to spend his first evening at Paixao. He'd imagined it would be informative, if quiet, and reasonably pleasant, even if he only talked to Gaston and the barkeep for the entire evening. Instead? Gaston had evidently held true to his reputation in life, by pulling a sizable part of the tavern into a party only minutes after they'd arrived. Skeleton that he was, he didn't bother ordering any drinks. Why bother, since he couldn't get drunk?
Instead, he'd played the part of a social bony butterfly, and flitted through the place to chat people up, asking questions and swapping stories, and generally just turning on the charm the way he did so well. He'd even gone and claimed the little stage they had in the corner for a while, to show off his voice and dancing, and do a few tricks to amuse people. Like juggle ribs, for example. Wasn't it handy, being able to take those out and still remain intact? He'd earned quite the tidy little sum for his impromptu show, too--some of it for his skills, but perhaps a fair share because he'd taken off his skull and held it out for people to test their aim by tossing coins through the eye sockets. Ahhh, all in good fun.... it was nice to know he didn't have to maintain his dignity with these people. Pumpkin King or no, he was just Jack, and he could let that show.
Of course, there came a time when all good things came to an end, and so it was with the party, too; that was signaled quite clearly by the fact that Gaston had gotten himself smashed to an impressive degree. He was still conscious of course, even coherent--something which Jack would have tipped his hat to if he'd had one, considering how much Gaston had drank--and likely could have walked if he had to. Still, walking straight would have likely been a problem..... Jack had decided to bypass the effort the whole drunken stagger routine would create, by slinging the musclebound man over his shoulder and walking them both to the nearest hotel. It was a nice place, bustling with life and filled with friendly people. Jack had gotten them a single bed hotel room and tucked Gaston in, before getting a pitcher of water and some sugar and limes to bring up, to help cure the inevitable hangover. And himself? He quietly spent the rest of the night dozing in a comfortable armchair so Gaston could have the whole bed.
He was up bright and early the next morning, of course, having sat down to play with his journal a bit and give himself a polish; Gaston would likely find the man with his head off once he woke up. Why not, while he was waiting? The day felt like it would be a nice one, hopefully calm enough. The map had plenty of interesting places to look around, and the brochures he'd picked up had a few good choices his friend might want to look into for a more permanent place to stay.
Instead, he'd played the part of a social bony butterfly, and flitted through the place to chat people up, asking questions and swapping stories, and generally just turning on the charm the way he did so well. He'd even gone and claimed the little stage they had in the corner for a while, to show off his voice and dancing, and do a few tricks to amuse people. Like juggle ribs, for example. Wasn't it handy, being able to take those out and still remain intact? He'd earned quite the tidy little sum for his impromptu show, too--some of it for his skills, but perhaps a fair share because he'd taken off his skull and held it out for people to test their aim by tossing coins through the eye sockets. Ahhh, all in good fun.... it was nice to know he didn't have to maintain his dignity with these people. Pumpkin King or no, he was just Jack, and he could let that show.
Of course, there came a time when all good things came to an end, and so it was with the party, too; that was signaled quite clearly by the fact that Gaston had gotten himself smashed to an impressive degree. He was still conscious of course, even coherent--something which Jack would have tipped his hat to if he'd had one, considering how much Gaston had drank--and likely could have walked if he had to. Still, walking straight would have likely been a problem..... Jack had decided to bypass the effort the whole drunken stagger routine would create, by slinging the musclebound man over his shoulder and walking them both to the nearest hotel. It was a nice place, bustling with life and filled with friendly people. Jack had gotten them a single bed hotel room and tucked Gaston in, before getting a pitcher of water and some sugar and limes to bring up, to help cure the inevitable hangover. And himself? He quietly spent the rest of the night dozing in a comfortable armchair so Gaston could have the whole bed.
He was up bright and early the next morning, of course, having sat down to play with his journal a bit and give himself a polish; Gaston would likely find the man with his head off once he woke up. Why not, while he was waiting? The day felt like it would be a nice one, hopefully calm enough. The map had plenty of interesting places to look around, and the brochures he'd picked up had a few good choices his friend might want to look into for a more permanent place to stay.
no subject
He himself, meanwhile, had been more or less tuning things out. He had been picking up on a bit of ambient fear in the area, but had willfully ignored it, rather than giving in to the impulse to go check things out and make it worse. After all, he had wanted to have a nice day today, not to go harass people.... Was it such a crime to want a vacation? Even natural instincts needed to have a break taken from them, sometimes....
To be fair to both Gaston and himself though, he would have to make a few amendments to the man's judgments. First of all, he was just as much a hunter as Gaston was, though his prey and sport were considerably different; he was used to watching for different things, and for that matter, was acclimated to a certain degree of fearful tension. And secondly, he didn't need to play cat and mouse with any wild animals--people were animal enough, and could certainly be wild when the situation called for it. Playing cat and mouse with a wild animal was probably harder, though. Animals were more alert, and usually more cautious--but they were also more sensible. They didn't become so easily startled at the slightest natural noises, or let their imaginations run away with them.....
He turned his head to listen, frowning thoughtfully at the comment. "I haven't.... can you tell who or what they are? It is rather.... still out today." He waited for a dramatic, lonely wolf howl or an eerie moan and rush of a cold gust of wind to emphasize his point; neither came. Ah, that was right--Halloweentown was considerably more obliging than Paixao seemed to be when it came to the environment getting in on things. Regretfully, Jack made an effort to tune into his senses now, rather than ignore them as he had been doing. He really had hoped for a nice, peaceful day of shopping and research....