http://prinzessinasuka.livejournal.com/ (
prinzessinasuka.livejournal.com) wrote in
paixaorpg2006-04-23 01:50 pm
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Entry tags:
la Fée Verte [completed]
Character(s): Asuka and Howl.
Content: Asuka trying to find comfort in alcohol and Howl finding himself running away from the tavern's goons to Haja o Que Houver.
Setting: The Cheap Prayer (F5) and then over to Haja o Que Houver (F4)
Time: early Saturday morning, 2-3 AM-ish.
Warnings: Alcohol.And adorable-ness x)
Taking off her bandages turned out to be a mistake as Auron had taken off the arms of the plugsuit so that he could treat the wound. The outfit should be able to moderate the temperature of her body, but the designer probably did not think that she would be roaming the streets during snowfall in the wee hours of the morning. The snow hitting her still open wound is also very unpleasant as it leaves a piercing pain as if needles are puncturing the wound.
Part of her mind is telling her that she is mad and that she should go back to the hotel now as Auron and The Prince and Jenet would worry and they have been so so nice and Asuka really does not want to break their hearts after she has broken her mother's her foster parents' Misato's Hikari's hers. But her feet trudges on and when she finally looks up after seeing reflections of lights on the sludge pooling around her feet, she finds herself looking at a broken down sign saying "The Cheap Prayer."
The place seems to be quite lively still, despite the time, and not thinking about how she has absolutely no money on her, she walks into the dimly-lighted tavern. She sits herself on a seat as far from the entrance as possible and finds a table in far corner of the room which has no candle placed on it. She floats to the table and flops herself down on the hard wooden chair, feeling the fatigue of her muscles only then.
It is strange how the darkness of the tavern and the pitiful wailing of the female soloist performing on the stage near her table matches so perfectly with how she feels inside. She snorts at the thought and flips through the menu placed on the table. Realizing that the numbers placed in brackets right beside the name of the cocktails are the alcoholic concentration, she smirks at the first good thing to happen to her in quite some time. Seems that the owner is decent enough to let me know which is the most alcoholic, she thinks to herself.
Asuka gestures to the waiter who has fat deposited under his eyes and nowhere else. Asuka hides herself behind the menu to spare her eyes from such a view, muttering, "Absinthe," before handing the waiter the menu and turning her face to the stage. She realizes that she has no money to pay with, but she finds that she does not really care. The waiter did not seem to realize that she is only fourteen, and she is glad for it because maybe alcohol can help her feel better. Misato usually seems much more manageable when she has her Yebisu, after all.
Content: Asuka trying to find comfort in alcohol and Howl finding himself running away from the tavern's goons to Haja o Que Houver.
Setting: The Cheap Prayer (F5) and then over to Haja o Que Houver (F4)
Time: early Saturday morning, 2-3 AM-ish.
Warnings: Alcohol.
Taking off her bandages turned out to be a mistake as Auron had taken off the arms of the plugsuit so that he could treat the wound. The outfit should be able to moderate the temperature of her body, but the designer probably did not think that she would be roaming the streets during snowfall in the wee hours of the morning. The snow hitting her still open wound is also very unpleasant as it leaves a piercing pain as if needles are puncturing the wound.
Part of her mind is telling her that she is mad and that she should go back to the hotel now as Auron and The Prince and Jenet would worry and they have been so so nice and Asuka really does not want to break their hearts after she has broken her mother's her foster parents' Misato's Hikari's hers. But her feet trudges on and when she finally looks up after seeing reflections of lights on the sludge pooling around her feet, she finds herself looking at a broken down sign saying "The Cheap Prayer."
The place seems to be quite lively still, despite the time, and not thinking about how she has absolutely no money on her, she walks into the dimly-lighted tavern. She sits herself on a seat as far from the entrance as possible and finds a table in far corner of the room which has no candle placed on it. She floats to the table and flops herself down on the hard wooden chair, feeling the fatigue of her muscles only then.
It is strange how the darkness of the tavern and the pitiful wailing of the female soloist performing on the stage near her table matches so perfectly with how she feels inside. She snorts at the thought and flips through the menu placed on the table. Realizing that the numbers placed in brackets right beside the name of the cocktails are the alcoholic concentration, she smirks at the first good thing to happen to her in quite some time. Seems that the owner is decent enough to let me know which is the most alcoholic, she thinks to herself.
Asuka gestures to the waiter who has fat deposited under his eyes and nowhere else. Asuka hides herself behind the menu to spare her eyes from such a view, muttering, "Absinthe," before handing the waiter the menu and turning her face to the stage. She realizes that she has no money to pay with, but she finds that she does not really care. The waiter did not seem to realize that she is only fourteen, and she is glad for it because maybe alcohol can help her feel better. Misato usually seems much more manageable when she has her Yebisu, after all.
no subject
She’s a child at the least. He thinks to himself, glimpsing her reflection in the glass of the door. And a young lady at the most. Unlike the man he’d met previously, this little one moved with a gait of a clumsy teenager.
And that vulnerability is something that he appreciates greatly. It rendered her just as helpless as he probably was, if he’d had any sense to consider himself helpless. And that helplessness was precisely why there was no need for the guises, or the giving of yet another false name.
"Come along, Scarlet." There is a teasing tone in his voice as he pins her with a nickname, and he shifts slightly, turning so that he is facing her. "Let’s get some food into that system of yours. And if you’re smart, you’ll pass out and sleep until noon tomorrow."
He holds out a hand, oddly enough remembering Markl and the first time he took he boy into his home. It is never pity, afterall, that prompts one to bring home strays. When she is strong enough, they will part ways.