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Log Title: Daquiris on the Moonwalk
Log setting: The Moonwalk. Duh.
Log Cast:
TooFar
Trace
Jason
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The perkigoth is sitting on the oversized steps that lead into the river, massive beams of tarred wood that form these stairs into the Mississippi, providing a nice spot to relax and watch the lights reflect off the water. It's fairly quiet here, relatively speaking, the thick earthen works that make the Moonwalk blocking off most of the noises from the French Quarter. And yes, TooFar is here. We were getting to that. He's sitting on the steps, large daquairi at his side and a cigarette in his hand. Usual sitting position, and watching the lights across the river.
Trace trots alongside Jason, heading out of the square at a leisurly pace. Even as his steps are easygoing, his hands are a flurry of movement and melodrama. Storytime, folks. As he nears the perki-goth's earshot he's right in the middle of the tale. "...And so I grabbed my arms round Cathy as the thing shoots up like fifty feet in the air. Like a hundred feet. Just, *whoosh*! And it comes clattering back down to the ground, ca-clang, kinda half-covering the hole, right? And so people are creeping closer and every time they get near the monster's big yellow claw comes tearin' up outta the hole, rippin' at anybody what comes by! This chick with a knife starts tauntin' it, and she nearly gets swiped, and TooFar's all pokin' his nose 'round it and it comes out, SLASH, an' takes a big chunk outta his jacket! And he gets all pissed, and get this, he like jumps down the hole. Jest dives in! Me'n Cathy couldn' believe it! An' the bastard who wouldn' give TooFar no cigarettes, he jumped down after 'em, and there was guns goin' off down there and slashing' around and splashin'... *I* think they killed it. TooFar's a monster killer! But he doan' wanna tell nobody or somethin'. And that's all I saw coz I ran off to find you to help, but I got back and Cathy was.... TooFar." Huh? "I mean. Look." He lifts his voice. "Hey TooFar!" Kinda blushing now. Because he was being all loud and dramatic with his storytelling, and sheesh. What's with this perkigoth that he pops up at such clever moments? First this afternoon, and now this.
The fuzzhead, of course, is listening with proverbial ears perked, grinning at the story that's coming his way. He even giggles at a couple of points, but, well, that last part about Cathy being TooFar, Jason looks a little lost. "How'd he..." But Trace clarifies and Jason looks, then grins brightly, green eyes glinting in the night's lights. He raises a hand in greeting, then sorta picks up the pace (subtly, though - honest). "Hey, TF," he calls, grinning crookedly. "Pretty feisty 'gator ya wrassled," he adds teasingly when he and the bluecap are closer. Oohyeah, TF the gator-wrassler. Heh, if anything, Jason just seems amused. But the featherwaif will be spilling details sometime. Maybe not now, but sometime.
The featherwaif wasn't facing the incoming sidewalk, but he's pretty disctinct from all angles. Jacket, y'know. And he doesn't much look like an aligator wrestler. He's even smaller than the redhead is, y'know, but you can't tell when he's wearing his boots and that duster. Yep, harmless little TooFar. Anyway, he twists around, grinning at the newly arrived. "Yep, it was. Hey guys." A greeting, his intense glance lingering in Jason's eyes. Hi again. And that's all he really does, waiting for you gets to come over and have a seat or something.
Trace snorts softly. "Gator." Hmf. You guys suck at good stories, you know? Gator indeed. It was a *monster*, goddammit. A real live monster! His second one, in fact. He's like an hold hack at monsters now, check that out. And what has he learned? A.) They don't like rocks. B.) They don't like you getting near their sewer hideyholes. And he's probably learned a whole lot more, but right now he'll just take a seat as indicated, allowing plenty room for Jason to take a spot between TooFar and himself. You know, just for some silly reason. "So what's goin' on with you, TooFar?" He tugs his legs up crosslegged on the stop, arms draped across his knees casually.
Tee hee. The whole 'gator' thing actually is kinda like a game or a joke to Jason. Something to do with TF's consistant assertation of the culprit behind what is sure to become an urban myth. Anyhow, the fuzzhead's grin just widens as perki's gaze comes his way, sharing a look with the be-feathered one. Anyhow, as seems to be expected, he flops down between the two scrawny kids and makes it a trio. The hear, see, nor speak no evil too! Heh. He lounges back on the step, propping himself up with his hands. Curious green eyes go to TF at Trace's question, humor sorta dancing in there. "Yeah, 'n ya gonna share?" A chin-nod towards the frozen concoction. Definitely hoping it's not in Trace's favored form (sorry, Trace).
The little streetgoth affixes an expression of minor disbelief at the Berlin Wall (Moscow, Berlin... They're all East Europeans. Same thing) that comes wandering down the Moonwalk. It passes quickly, because now his friends are down here with him, particularly Jason, who he inexplicably decides to lean against. And yeah, he hands over his daquairi, grinning faintly, "Careful, it's kinda strong." Hell yeah, those daqbars make these things 150 proof. Flatten you out. TooFar has a large one too, which is likely more then his bodymass can reasonably be expected to absorb.
"What flavor..?" Trace mumbles the question, but immediately finds some tourist chick walking by to look at with feigned interest. Hellooo nurse. Because really he could care less about the daquairi if it's a hundred fifty proof, and he's a feeling sheepish about the question. Because the whole thing about drinking isn't the flavor, he's figured out that much. So okay, he's managed to sound stupid already in his eyes. Ogling some tourist chica in her little daisy dukes is *so* redeeming of course. Whatever. "And are we still doing that X thing with Ryan sometime?" Of course, Trace's hope to get TF and Jason together at the X party is kind of pointless at this stage in the game, but hey, it'd still be a good time had by all right? He grins over at the two.
Oooh, it IS mixed in the nice fashion. Y'know, with booze! We'll not ask how short, bright and gothy got this wonderous thing (hey, sometimes they don't even ask for ID), cuz, well, it's here. And strong. And Jason is pleased. There's a bit of awkwardness as he's leaned against about the same time as he removes one of his supports to receive this lovely chilled offering. So, hey, he'll lean back - prolly a little tipsy this early in the evening anyway. Sheesh, kids these days. (Was for the benefit of the audience, but oh well.) Straw is sucked inbetween his lips and he proceeds to give himself a brain freeze as Trace asks about the party. Woo! That /is/ strong. A choking littl giggle, and then Jason nodnods towards the bluecap. "Thought /ya/ was gonna tell us when it was. Yer the one all close with Ryan an' all." And, hey, X is X. Recent events prolly just assure that a certain pair are gonna be evil under its beautiful influence. He smacks his lips and takes another suck on the daquiri. Mmmm, yeah. "Sumthin' weird... Strawberry, I think." He ponders the thing. Yes. This is good. TF, yer gonna hafta pry it from his cold, drunk hands, you are.
"Strawberry," is the alto answer, the light breeze coming offland pulling at his redblond (can't use Strawberry twice in the same pose) hair, strands catching on the feathers of his jacket like long streamers. His cigarette is finished off, the cherry ember glowing in the dim light, and is tossed into the river. And yes, he's still leaning against Jason. TooFar doesn't seem the sort to snuggle, but he's letting his presence be known to the redhead. Face it, he's a tease, subtle when he wants to be. Another smoke is ignited, and the perkigoth just settles in comfortably to listen in.
Yeah, subtle except for like the whole street here. Ooh looka ma, cuddlin' BOYS! Hee. Trace rolls his shoulders in protest. "Hey, I dunno, I haven't seen him round. I'll find him sometime and talk it out with him, I guess. I was jest wonderin' if anybody'd seen him." But this is not an idea we're letting go of easily. Yes, this WILL happen. Even if we all have the initiative of slugs here. Trace has faith that some ecstacy god will come through for him or something.
Of course, snuggling in public isn't Jason's bag, to be frank. You get allllll comfy with some guy and lo, here comes a pack of frothing homophobes and you gotta scurry off with a few backwards taunts. He likes TF's subtle little leans, though. It's subdued and people (at least iRL) often completely overlook it. Despite what Trace says, so nyeah. We're... drunk, honest? A gentle elbowing of the featherwaif's side as Jason takes another slurp. /Will/ be drunk soonish, prolly. And, no, he's not sharing. TF already had some and Trace prolly doesn't want any (and we're not asking). "So what'd /you/ do taday, o 'gator master?" And don't say panhandling, cuz that's boring. Jason knows, he's tried it.
The tide is low and slack.
The feathergoth knows all about how boring panhandling is, since it's his major means of support outside of bumming off friends. One supposes he might be rather good at it, how could anyone say no to those deepsky eyes? Almost as if TooFar was just thinking that to himself, he twists his head around just so, locking eyes with Jason just long enough to rescue his drink off the redhead and drain off a couple chilled swallows. He grins, returns the beverage, and breaks the link to savour his cigarette, "Nah, been a slow day." A pause, a beat as they say in comedic terms, "Only wrassled a newt."
Trace giggles at TooFar's words, shaking his head a little in amusement. "Z'at all, huh?" You know, TF's probably right about his panhandling skills, except when you get jerks like Kenjiro perhaps. Always the exception. Of course, Kenjiro helped kill the 'gator', Trace assumes, so he can't be all bad. "So it's still a slow day. What should we do?" Because Trace is getting restless. This is alright, but you know, he's got no drink and no leaning partner here so he's just sitting on this step, and the kid can't sit still too long like this. Hasn't been too good at sedated veg sessions ever since he kicked, actually. So he unfolds his legs and tugs one leg in close, fiddling with his laces for no good reason. Tie, untie. Cheap thrills.
Cold, drunk hands, I'm tellin' ya! This thing's yummy! Mine, ALL mi-... Why, yes, blue eyes, you may have it back. Jason gives the daquiri up without a fight. Or even a twitch as he's caught by what TF's unfortunately figured out as the quickest way to stun the redhead like a deer in headlights: those skyblue eyes. He blinkblinks as the drink's returned and the eyes go away, then looks over to Trace and blushes, biting his lip. Err, you didn't see that. Hee. A giggle comes at TF's little bit o' humor, but it's gotta be interrupted by a strawful of daquiri fun. Hmm, what to do? He knows Trace's gotta be bored. No booze, no leanin', nope. And fuzzy's actually one of those people that feels bad when he's in the land of plenty and his friend isn't. "Ummm... we could go find Flagg 'n throw rocks at him?" comes the sudden suggestion that makes even Jason blink. Now, where did that come from?
Now, as we all know, TooFar is easy. Since he's pretty much always entertained by /something/, it's fairly certain that he's going to have fun no matter what you guys drag him off to do. Sorta makes you wonder what he's thinking about, just what sort of space his head occupies. To remain so perky almost all the time. Even now, rather subdued as he very inconspiciously maintains a close body contact with the redhead here, he has that faint grin, those laughing eyes. Gator Slayer indeed. The perkigoth wouldn't even be a light snack. But he has his strengths, and one of them is his use of silence when he chooses. Like now. You guys, make your plans. I'll enjoy them regardless.
The tide is low and rising.
The tide needs to make up its mind.
Try new, improved tide.
"Throw rocks at Flagg..?" Trace laughs brightly at the idea, and the fun imagery of big hunks of granite getting imbedded into Flagg's pretty cranium. Thunk! Hehe. "I did a new Flagg death the other day. He got hung. Danglin' onna a rope, with his lips all blue and eyes bugged."
Jason's inconspicious leanings are kinda leaning towards conspicious, that daquiri /really/ kinda creepin' up on him. Y'know where you drink a lot, but only start feeling a little buzz. Bet he'll have a surprise when he tries to stand. Hehe. Redhead lays his head back against feathered shoulders and rubs back and forth a moment, giggling at the sensation of the tickling feathers against his fuzz. But then he's back to regarding Trace with his lipsided grin. "Surprised he ain' been hung earlier. Shoul' have.. gators snappin' at his danglin' feets!" Yeah! Gators! Okay, more gigglings 'cuz that was amusing, lemme tell ya.
Well, with his thin waifish shoulder and bulky duster becoming a feathered pillow of sorts for Jason here, TooFar isn't quite able to use his usual tricks to get the drink off the redhead. And it's the perkigoth's turn, frankly. It's not concern, really, more a case of the feathergoth wanting to at least be just as wasted as Jason is, if that's the direction things are going. TooFar hijack's the beverage, grabbing Jason's hand by the wrist and pulling the cup over to within straw range of his mouth. Long enough to noticeably lower the level of the large daquairi. The redhead's hand is release, so TooFar can press the palm of his hand to his forehead as he winces. Ice headaches are a bitch. Owowowow.
Well, Trace never does really come up with something brilliant to do to entertain himself here, and probably eventually wanders off to let you two be a cute drunk couple together. But for awhile he lingers, watching with a sort of pleased smile that's all his own, eyes turned inward and thoughtful. It's just... really good to see Jason like this. Hasn't seen him let go and relax and laugh like this since before Christmas. After those few unnerving weeks of listlessness, the spark stolen from those green eyes (you shoulda seen it, TooFar... It was so eerie. They were just, you know, green. Regular mortal green. Freaky) this is all just really refreshing and reassuring and Trace feels an odd twing of gratefulness towards the perkigoth for that. These thoughts stay locked behind his little smile however, and he does eventually excuse himself, off to find Caddy because he heard she had weed, or so he claims.
The redhead doesn't really notice the secret smile either. He's a little tipsy and giddy and really seriously pondering being blatant (cuz, well, his judgement is certainly getting impaired here). That's alright, though, he knows Trace's heart, at least enough to know the bluecap's happy. Not that it keeps Jason from having a twinge of guilt at finding someone when the blue-braided artist is /still/ pining after wimmins who don't even look his way. But after making a serious dent in what's left of the daquiri with TooFar, he won't protest terribly if the bluecap's gonna slip away for a worthy cause like weed. Just gonna be all apologetic in the morning, most likely. Apologetic and hung-over and maybe even a little glowy if he gets /his/ way. (Hey, just being honest here.) Hee, fox's feelin' noooo pain.
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