riverviewlogs | ( semi-closed ) i'll drink to that

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( semi-closed ) i'll drink to that

who: Re-L Mayer, the Scientist Expedition Team, Gladio, Anyone else!
what: Bar Socializing, meeting for 'drinks'
when: June 1-10th
where: Your local Quarantine Bar
warnings: Alcohol obviously, language probably

i. Return to Quarantine

After an extended time spent in the wilderness outside of the Quarantine, it was only natural to make it to their respective homes with enough time to spread out, maybe send some laundry away and sort through stacked up messages - then, of course, meet at the local bar for a bit of an unwind. Ok, maybe not usual, but Re-L finds herself agreeing to it anyway. Less time spent in the apartment she desperately needed to rearrange was for the best at the moment anyway - she finds clothes that she has left over (and mentally makes a note to go and get some more changes), makes sure to take a shower with at least three scrub downs to ensure she was, for sure, as clean as she should be to be back in society, and heads back out to the bar. She's set on a glass of win or two, but, depending on how raucous the others are feeling, that plan could go right out the window.

As per usual with her typical need for absolute perfection in grooming, Re-L is fashionably late, though it doesn't take her too long to spot out the others even in the crowded bar. She feels a bit out of place, if she's honest, but when isn't she, heels and all?

There would be an apology for being late - if she wasn't sure they'd all totally expected it.

"Red wine, whatever you like best." Is her short drink order, not entirely picky at the moment before she turns back to the table:

"I, for one, don't think I've ever taken a longer shower before tonight in my entire twenty years of life."

ii. Interested in a "Drink"

Avoiding subjects had always been a specialty of Re-L Mayer. Particularly when it came to things she had little to no experience in, even if that just meant talking over 'drinks' as Gladio had suggested. However - she also had little to no will power to avoid going out for a glass of wine after a rough day back on the job, particularly when she was still catching up with sleep from their out-of-Quarantine mission, and soon found herself stepping in to the Quarantine Bar to a bartender who seemed to recognize her by now.

Bless him, but it wasn't too terribly hard, either. Even her dress is out of the norm, a shoulder bearing top that had been gifted to her is basically all she has to wear until everything else comes out of the wash, an easily fetched pair of black pants in place of (but not all that different from) - her usual choice in clothing. A glass of red is on the bar before she takes a seat, straight backed as always, on the bar stool, a quiet note of thanks to the tend as he nods in return and moves on to the next customer - her favorite kind of bartender actually, and why she'd come back so often after she was finished her day.

Also why she's not keen enough to spot out any familiar faces, too absorbed in her own daily wrap up.

iii. Another Round

Want to sit down and have a drink with Re-L? Feel free to drop a line here and sidle up to the bar stool next to her and her flowery wine. (She won't bite too hard.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yuuri, still exhausted from the trip, simply lets his head drop into his folded arms with a sigh. Like Re-L, he'd taken care to scrub himself thoroughly in the shower before coming out here to meet up with the others.

"Me neither," he agrees, head still essentially on the table. It's too much effort to lift it up right now. "And I can't wait to sleep in an actual bed again." Parts of him are still rather uncomfortably sore from sleeping on the hard ground for such a long time. Even as an athlete used to plowing through pain, it's a different sort of ache that he isn't used to at all, and leaves him feeling a little grumpy.

"Oh yeah." Yuuri turns his head toward her, suddenly remembering a promise they'd made during that first night out on the mission. It's a silly one, but Yuuri sticks to it anyway. "Do you think they have ginger ale here?"

"I was just thinking that. I have a new mattress to test out, too." In an apartment that was an absolute mess, so far as she saw it, but at the moment there's not a lot of time or energy on her part with which to fuss over decorative arrangement. Thankfully the department had factored in some recovery time for her from her little adventure out in the lands beyond the walls, and she wouldn't be expected in for a shift for another few days. It left a few days for her to recover on her sleep and just.. in general get her life together. Back together, whatever it was - she had to get everything back in order before going back to work lest she lose her mind going from one place full of problems to another.

Everything at the moment feels like some sort of daze, and she's not quite sure whether she likes it or not, slowly reacting as Yuuri turns to her, not moving much more than her eyes. They're all beat and tired - at least there's all of that in common, too.

" - Oh. I forgot about that, actually... Maybe we'll ask the next time he comes back?" Basically, she wasn't getting up to ask about it, though the ida is pleasant enough to give her that pleased little smirk at the idea of a ginger ale. "I'm glad you remembered that, Yuuri."

As much as he liked the people he just spent days out in the wilderness with, he actually would have preferred to stay in and possibly sleep after cleaning up. But he also doesn't like the idea of bailing on people he cares about. So maybe he was a tad grouchy the moment he had to force himself out the door. It's also why the moment he got to the bar he ordered whiskey and intended to drink just enough to make him pass out later.

Hell, aside from using Jim as a pillow in his near future, the bed was the only other thing he was looking forward to. God, he was getting old.

Rolling his eyes at himself, he looked up the moment Re-L walked in. A smirk pulled at his lips as he canted his head to the side. "You and that fancy wine o'yours." He snorted just a little. "You know after the mess we just went through, you should try something stronger." He looked at his latest refill on his shot and pushed it toward her. "Think you can handle it, Re-L?"

Sometimes he had to make a conscious effort not to use an endearment on her. It could be heard in the slight pause before he said her name. She was just too much like his own kid in some ways, so not using them feels almost too forced or formal. But he does try to honor her wishes.

There's no way Re-L is intending to get anywhere near drunk, here and now. There's not much point when she's already more tired than she ought to be when it comes to being out and about. But, they'd talked about going out for drinks to wrap things up, and considering it had been something of the 'old' group, so to speak - she's more comfortable with the idea. Someone will drag her home, if need be, and that's enough of a soothing idea to make her consider the offer, scrub up and come back out. As much as she wanted to simply crumple in to a bath tub and never come out -

And instead, here she is, being called out over wine again, a little chiding she simply rolls her eyes at. From Bones it's pretty typical, and only makes her accept her glass with a bit of an over exaggerated first drink, as if to illustrate how much she enjoys it. "It wasn't that dramatic of a mess. I think you're exaggerating a little."

The glass gets one of those exasperated looks, setting her glass down at least and picking up his newest shot to examine it like some sort of antique.

"I think, even by the smell, I'd rather stick to my cabernet." A prim little cross of her legs, though she doesn't put the glass down. "Besides, I need to be able to make it back to my bed tonight."

Having disappeared for a little while to get himself something a little more colorful, Jim comes back to where Bones is currently chatting up with Re-L with a tall, fancy glass of something that probably shouldn't look as orange as it does, considering that's not all orange juice in there. There's a cute slice perched on the brim of the glass too, with a little blue umbrella sticked onto it. Also no, he doesn't give a crap if either of you want to stare and make fun of him, he is going to drink his overly sweet and overly spiked cocktail and enjoy it, thank you very much.

"Is he pestering about the wine again?" Jim huffs a little, grinning lopsidedly as he pulls up a chair and sits right next to Bones, leaning against his side a little. He doesn't have that messy unkept beard anymore, but it's still a subconscious gesture when he lifts his free hand up to scratch at his jaw. "Leave her alone, she can drink whatever she likes."

Both brows go up at the little double team effort he's got on his hands. Snorting softly, he doesn't move as Jim leaned into him. Without thinking about it, he curled an arm around the back of the chair Jim is sitting in, his fingers brushing over his shoulder. However, his gaze is moving between the atrocity in Jim's hand to her glass of wine. "Really, if you two want to be delicate flowers, far be it from me to take that away from you."

He starts to reach over and take the shot back from her. "Unless you want to prove me wrong, of course. Either way, I'll be sure you make it home." If anything cause that's what a gentleman would do especially for someone so young. Turning his head to Jim, he gave him an amused look. "Have you always liked those fruity pansy ass things?" It's more a tease than anything else. After all, he's seen Jim's wide range of things he's willing to try.

Edited 2017-06-14 20:35 (UTC)

"Of course he is." Re-L has to at least be a little amused at the fact that Jim's backing her up, here. She finds the good doctor's pre-occupation with her drinks of choice rather entertaining - but let's be honest, it wasn't as though she'd been given any other options once she'd reached drinking age. In polite society one was expected to drink like they were in polite society, too - and that, quite apparently, meant wine. For the moment though she's very much interested in whatever Jim has, tipping her head to take a look at it a little more closely if possible. "What do you have, anyway, Jim?" It looked suspiciously like vodka and orang juice, otherwise known as a 'screwdriver' so far as she knew, but there's no way she's giving McCoy a moment's chance to laugh at her for not knowing drinks or something.

"You're going to go on fluffing yourself about delicate flowers? While you complain about us not drinking whiskey? You realize the irony in that, right?" She lets him take the shot back without further comment, for the moment, another sip of wine down as he talks about making sure she got home in one piece. "See, the problem with that is you'll know where I live, that way." Partially a joke and partially not. Becoming a mother hen in her own damn house might be outlawed.

"I can't help that I was raised in high society." Still... her pride gets the better of her, and she extends her hand, long fingers outstretched to beckon the glass back. "Give it to me, if it'll shut you up."

"Something close to vodka mixed with something close to lemon and orange juice. Sort of like a screwdriver, I guess. Or this place's version of it, anyway," he shrugs, taking a slow sip as he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Bones. He lowers it again, shooting the doctor a flat look.

"Nice sexism you got going on there, doc. And yes, I have always liked these fruity pansy ass things. For the record, if not for my allergies, this would be pink," he points out, shooting a wide and unembarrassed smile at Bones. Why the hell shouldn't he drink whatever he wants, anyway? It's Bones's own problem if he wants to be so pretentious. Or act pretentious, anyway. He recognizes a bait when he sees one, after all.

Not sure if Re-L does, still he shoots her an amused little smile as she reaches out to take the shot. Seems like Bones's words get the desired reaction out of her one way or the other.

"Re-L, you just made me sound like some sort of awful person." Snorting softly, he rolled his eyes. Not that he'd follow her home or try to figure out that detail regardless, he does know how to respect privacy. Worst case scenario, if she got that bad off, they could just deposit her in the room they never used.

Angling his head to look at Jim, he instantly rolled his eyes at that comment. "It's really a shame you can't have strawberries." He redirected that with a relatively true statement. He knew a damn good recipe with strawberries but then, he didn't mind giving up such things when it came to the man's allergies. However, he does pull his drink out of Re-L's reach when she suddenly decided to take it. "What's that? I can't very well be givin' you my drink now that I've been called on being sexist. Though that also implies Jim is a girl in this case." He smirked just a little and used his other hand to pluck Jim's drink out of his hand.

"Consider me shut up, young lady." And he purposely smirked at Jim before he tried the ridiculously brightly colored liquid. Probably even bright enough to dye his insides. Though, he did make a slight face before offering it back to Jim. "Good lord, that's sweet. But not bad."

"It looks good, but also vaguely like something I over drank on Bajikan, so I'll refrain from a taste test." Bajikan screwdrivers had gotten her in so much trouble with herself it wasn't even funny. Of course, no one else had noticed anything other than Re-L acting like a normal teenager, but her version of utter embarrassment and other people's was, typically, very much opposite. She takes another drink from her wine glass, eyes rolling as Bones tells her she's making him sounds like an awful person, waiting until the glass is firmly on the table before she elaborates - "Trust me, McCoy, I think you're doing it all on your own, without my help."

"Wait, you're allergic to strawberry?" Oh, man, that sounds like it almost personally offends her in a way. Berry flavors, after all, were one of her favorites other than grape and wine. She gives a bit of a sound as Bones pulls the drink away, fingers flipping upwards in a motion of 'what gives' to put it calmly.

"What the hell? Now you're punishing me for Jim's sass?" Man, that's kinda annoying. But either way she'll lean back in her seat again, then, with her fancy wine, and continue to plow through that glass. "Somehow I doubt Jim minds being the girl in this case. Though it's odd that it matters anyway." Even if Romdeau had had it's problems, everything was pretty damn egalitarian when it came to who was expected to do what. She's not wounded to not have to try whiskey, honestly. Fairly content with a nice room temp glass of red.

"You can probably get a scan of your insides, now, drinking that."

Jim huffs a chuckle at Re-L's answer, nodding lightly. Yep, Bones doesn't need any help digging up that hole right now, evidently. Although Jim knows he's not serious, he really can't and will never pass up on any opportunity he has to tease the good doctor.

"I am, yes," Jim nods at the question, glancing at Re-L. He doesn't sound particularly mournful about it, since he has gotten used to it by now. There are a few other berries he avoids too, just in case —especially here, where there are fruits he's never seen before—, but he doesn't mind that much.

Taking his drink back from Bones, he draws a long sip from it, humming as he nods in agreement at Re-L's words. "Thank you. See, I don't mind being "the girl", but she is right. It doesn't matter. At least to me it doesn't," he can't help add with a teasing wink aimed at Bones. "Damn right it's sweet. Just like me."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence you two. It will be remembered later when I have to treat either of your asses." He rolled his eyes at the both of them. Where yes, he was bein' a right ass about the drinks, worryin' 'bout people gettin' home was another matter entirely. But he simply slides past that topic to listen to the two of them discuss his allergy.

Truth was, since he figured out most of Jim's allergies, he'd quit eating the ones that he knew set him off. Not like it was that hard of a transition. "He is sassy isn't he? And nah, I shouldn't be goading you with that anyway. So you can drink what ya want."

Call it the beginnings of an apology. Setting his shot back on the bar surface, he turned his head to look at Jim for a moment. "No, it doesn't matter at all." A brow rose a little as did one corner of his lips in a slight smile. Cause really, none of that would matter long as Jim was Jim.

However, that softer look disappeared instantly at that comment about the sweetness. Rolling his eyes instantly, he shook his head. "You're an idiot." His idiot, but still a damn idiot. "And I think you're right. His insides will be as bright yellow gold as his captain's tunic. Probably exactly what he was goin' for at that."

"That's the real tragedy of this entire table, your allergy." At least so far as Re-L sees it. She could probably eat her own weight in fruits just because, right now, thanks to surviving on things that were by no means fresh or even remotely good for one's health when they'd been on the Rabbit. Canned food wasn't the worst, but it wasn't ideal for her standards, either. Since being in Riverview, though.. she's distinctly become aware of how bad of a cook she is when attempting to make her normal mainstays from the Dome... and well, she could only take so many ruined attempts at food before throwing in the towel.

"At the very least I could lend you make-up, if you ever wanted it." A slew of pale foundations and blue eye shadows - Jim would look enchanting. Still, she clucks her tongue as Bones begins what could be the starts of an apology, brows raising as she tips her head to the side, as if considering, then - "Who knows, you could be enriching me. Like good poetry, or something."

That's purely sarcastic, and just frilly enough that he might get a kick out of it. "I don't think gold's his color, regardless. I'll admit the word 'sweet' may not really fit you either, Jim."

She pauses to take another drink, squinting at her glass for a moment, then - "I'd say tart but you'd probably like the other connotation to it, so I'll save us all the pain of that."

Jim's eyebrows raise a little at Re-L's comment. "You think so? I don't know. I've never minded it much." One of those things he's grown so used to, he doesn't even think twice of it. He does have a couple of other strange allergies too— he had even more as a kid, luckily medicine's advanced enough where he comes from that most of them are gone by now. And really, for a kid it was a lot more tragic to be allergic to animal fur than strawberries.

"Mm, thanks but I think I'll skip on that." Not that he cares who wears makeup, though even in their own world women are more prone to wearing it. Still, it's no strange sight to see a guy donning some every so often, and it's not the kind of thing people bat an eyelash at anymore. Personally, Jim just doesn't like the feeling of it on his skin and around his eyes. Feels a little itchy. (Maybe he's allergic too, hell if he knows.)

Jim looks a little surprised about her remark. Most people say gold suits him. He thinks gold suits him. But he might be biased and just like that gold shirt a little too much. Her next words get a different reaction out of him, though, and letting out a snort, he lets out a loud laugh. Yeah, call him a tart alright.

Shrugging as well at her comment, he took the shot and finally threw it back before sliding it across the bar to the tender. "It's not that hard to cook around what he's allergic, too. I think I've gotten pretty good adjusting to it." Maybe someday he'd figure out a way to find ways to fix the reason why he was allergic, but that may not happen here with the medical field pretty far behind that of his time.

He's actually grateful Jim declined that offer, though he kept it to himself. Though, he kind of leaned back a bit when the third shot was put in front of him. He really didn't like drinking too much anymore so he tried to look past it and answer Re-L's comment. "Gotta tell ya, poetry does not come from hard liquor or Jim Kirk. Well, unless he's quoting it." Smirking, he crossed his arms on the bar surface edge.

"Gold suits him metaphorically." Looked good with his eyes, too. "But I gotta say, he looks pretty damn amazing in blue colors. But wearing my uniform shirt is a pretty big demotion." Smirking just a little, he was going to agree with him not being sweet like she said until she said what she really thought fit him. Well, that just pulled a laugh out of him instantly. The sound was sudden and unexpected making him smile probably as wide as he'd ever dare in public, eyes lighting up with amusement.

"Damn right, he's tart. Both in connotation and literally."

"I would say so. But Daedalus always said I had a strange fixation with fruit from a young age." And as much as a doctor tended to like a kid that didn't fight them when it came to fruits and vegetables, Re-L fixating on fruits wasn't particularly useful. Nature's candy was still that - and her good doctor could've taken the news that she's grown to like her greens a bit more better than the fact she'd demanded to trade her sides for a fruit salad at the end of a meal. It's a blessing and a curse, being a strong willed child from the very beginning. But then again, this is a girl from a place where animals as pets aren't a staple, so there's that, too.

There's a bit of a sarcastic look of disappointment as Jim turns down her offer about make-up, even if she expected it, before explaining shrugging her shoulders. "Well, in my defense, the blue will probably not cause any allergic reactions for you." There's never any way to guarantee that, of course, but it might be worth a shot.

At least the bar visit had allowed her to get in one good joke - normally she's a bit too tight laced for that, but considering the fact that they'd probably already witnessed her in moments that were a little less than flattering, included bed headed late night wake ups to dispatch with monsters - you know, all the usual mess to do with a mission out in the middle of nowhere. Still, Bones' comment manages to jut her brow right up, not missing a beat on that one -

"I didn't ask about reviews from personal experience, McCoy. But thanks for that."

"I'll save you any accidental strawberries on my plate from now on, if you want to," Jim offers, though not all that seriously. He'd never go anywhere near a plate with strawberries, as even the faintest trace could get a reaction out of him. Nothing that upsets him much. His allergies are a little strange and seemingly random, but he's long learned to navigate them and live a life without any issues. Strawberries are admittedly something he's curious about, but he remembers his bad reactions a whole lot better than he does the taste of the fruit, and he knows better than to risk it just to get a taste.

The conversation all derails a bit due to Re-L's joke, though Jim more than welcomes it. He always appreciates someone who can crack a joke, even if it's at his expense. The whole thing seems to turn on Bones when he answers, though, and Re-L's retort gets another snort from him, as he pats Bones's chest lightly.

"Oh, you dug yourself right into that hole now, I'm not digging you out."

Edited 2017-06-27 22:36 (UTC)

Leonard could only roll his eyes and lift a hand to rub his face. Of course the both of them would turn this on him in their own way. Finally he just lifted his hands in defeat and figured if they wanted to 'bury him' as Jim put it, then he best shut his mouth now. "No point, seems like my run of luck is settin' me up for a fall, so I think I'll just bow out for now."

Lowering his hands to the bar surface, he habitually slipped his fingers over the latest shot class and turned it on the bar. The doctor started to pick it up, then stopped leaving it on the bar. Leaning forward, he asked for water from the tender and smiled just a little before glancing at Jim and Re-L.

"How's your hand, by the way." He glanced at Re-L and then to her hand that he'd taken care of. He'd already doted on Jim back at the apartment about that concussion, guess she was next on his list.

"Somehow I don't think even accidental strawberries will do you very many favors, Jim." Allergies weren't really a thing in Romdeau dome - being able to edit DNA in the ways they could kind of excluded those kinds of nuisances, but she'd heard enough about them in books to know that even something on his plate could be enough. Besides, she would definitely survive without a few strawberries passed her way. Daedalus might even thank Jim from where ever the hell he'd ended up, if he was lucky.

She's equal opportunity when it comes to throwing jokes either of their way, at least, shrugging her shoulders as Jim tells Bones he's not digging him out of that hole. Her had tips down as if to hide the fact that she may be splitting in to a smile, at the moment. It's an unfortunate habit of hers, but it is what it is at the moment. Another glass or two of wine and she might not be all that inclined to do it, or a shot of whiskey... She watches what seems to be McCoy's inner battle about the whiskey as he has it, though she doesn't comment. Maybe in a little while, if he still hasn't touched it, she'll offer to put him out of his misery and drink it.

And, well, make him at least a little bit pleased that she tried.

The inquired after hand is extended McCoy's way after he asks, her shoulders shrugging upward. "Nothing too crazy to report. It doesn't feel too sore or anything so I think we're in the all clear. No redness either..."

"Oh, trust me. I know," he huffs, almost like the memory alone amuses him, even if it was never particularly pleasant at the time. Bones likely remembers the incident at one of their first Academy parties, at the very least. Jim swore off of fruity shots and cocktails from that point onwards unless he could see them getting prepared. And Bones himself was likely even more ~~paranoid~~ scrupulous about it than he was.

Allergies aren't particularly common where they come from, either, and they're mostly fairly easy to treat. Jim's an unusual case, as he has more than just one strange allergy, and is sometimes allergic to the very vaccines that could cure him.

Jim makes note of the way she ducks her head, but for the moment says nothing to it, pretending like he didn't notice at all. He smiles a little, eyes falling to her hand. But he's not the doctor on the table, so he lets Bones inspect it if he wants to. And, well, at least now he's fussing over someone else other than him.

For now, he ignores the talk of allergies and the horrible fate incurred on Jim for his lack of ability to have strawberries and focuses on what he knew best. Taking her hand carefully, he uses that same gentle but clinical touch he tended to use with patients. Granted, it's a bit gentler with her mainly because she's somehow managed to endear herself to him in whatever way he couldn't explain.

Pressing his thumb into her palm, he focused on the feeling of bone, skin and tendons and how they should feel, while also paying attention to the color and looking for any signs of infection. "Flex your fingers one by one for me." He said it lightly, a softer tone as he's more focused on that sense of touch than anything else. "Then make your hand into a fist. Just wanna feel how everything is working. No infection so that's good. No tellin' what is out there that I've not dealt with before."

She finds herself incredibly thankful in that moment for Daedalus' quest for perfection in creating her and other fellow citizens of Romdeau Dome. Sure, it was strange to allow a doctor such incredible leeway over making an entire populace of people, but if everyone were to be so thorough in their job, picking and choosing genetics to benefit all of them - maybe she couldn't fault her good doctor all that much. Others may still find fault in it, but in reality, her problems with Daedalus went far beyond the issue of creating 'perfect' people.

"I've never experienced anything like a food allergy - I suppose Daedalus plucked any of those dispositions out of my DNA before I could even know it." And that much she was thankful for, if she's honest. The kinds of reactions Jim had had, while only alluded to, sounded bad enough to be pleased in the fact she'd never had to deal with them.

An exam in the middle of a bar might've been taken as odd by anyone other than Re-L - she's used to it, really, and doesn't mind. Might as well do it while they were all together instead of bothering with individual appointments or fitting in visits later when their schedules would be inevitably busier and harder to align.

She moves her fingers as asked, slowly enough that he can observe - sipping her wine once or twice while in the process of it, too. Might as well multi-task, right?

Her hand curls in to a fist and she finally looks to McCoy's face, as if asking what he thinks. "It's not painful, so I think we're in the clear. Depending on if you think everything feels alright, of course."

Jim would likely find it strange himself, as useful as genetic manipulation can be in some health aspects. It'd seem a hint too close to nudging against his own sense of ethics, as much as he tries to adapt and accept that different people, and different worlds, will always do things differently. In this, however, it's a good thing.

"Lucky you. Allergies can be something of a bother at times. When I was still a child I was allergic to all kinds of animal hair, and let me tell you, that's a pain when you grow up on a farm." Even if they had a very limited amount of animals around, the simple fact that Jim was so prone to running off and roaming about had him crossing paths with a few cows and horses here and there. It usually didn't end well for him.

While Bones checks her hand, Jim leans back on his seat, watching the doctor's fingers trace her palm and wrist while he sips on his colorful drink.

His fingers found the right muscles and tendons as she moved and he gave a pleased nod as he noted the smooth movement of each finger and no loss of strength from the muscles aside from fatigue. Finally releasing the hand, he gave Re-L another nod of approval. "Looks like you'll be fine. No signs of internal damage or infection. Probably in a few days it'll be like you never had an injury at all." Something he felt a little proud of, but he also credited her abilities to heal as well.

Turning back tot he bar, he found the glass of water left for him and grabbed that instead. For a moment, he turned his head to Jim and considered that idea of being raised on a farm with a small smile. "I never did ask if you were allergic to horses." Because honestly, not being able to have pets as a kid is a real tragedy, but for Leonard, childhood without horses just seemed like the end of everything.

Not that he talked about his childhood all that much. And honestly, thinking of back home just made it rougher on him cause that 'home' was Joanna's home. And just thinking about her swept the small smile away and left a furrow on his brow.

Edited 2017-07-06 03:55 (UTC)

[ There's a hand that appears to the right of her on the bar, followed by another. One bearing a half glove meant only to shield the main hand from damage from prolonged use of a massive, heavy blade at the web where thumb and palm meet. His arms are covered in feathers made of ink.

Gladio leans his forearms on the bar and leans against it, raises his voice only when he's sure she's about to take a sip from her drink. Thankfully, he's at least wearing a tank top this time. ]

I'll have what she's having.

So... do I gotta have a 'need to know' for you to tell me more about that mission of yours? Or did nearly a month of off the grid living make you wanna talk about anything else but that?

[ There's not much reaction when she notes that someone's beside her - much of her time on the Eluvio, and even more so here in Riverview, was spent getting used to people in her space in general. After all, in Romdeau, even if people weren't the regent's granddaughter, most kept a respectable distance from one another. To be fair, they had a lot of room to spread out, just - it made for quite a bit of initial irritation when she'd been getting used to the facts of life around here -

But then she recognizes the voice, even partially, blue eyes cutting toward him to confirm -

Ah, Gladio. She swallows her sip and settles her glass down on the bar top, a dark brow arching toward her hair line as she turns to him. ]

For one I'm not sure you'll like this kind of wine - for two, it wasn't very interesting.

[ Even if it was, how curious he is about her trip in to the wilds is kind of funny, and the game of keep away over nothing even better - a small smirk makes its way across her face before she takes another small drink, then elaborates just for effect : ]

I'm sure if they want to share it, it'll be in the hall of records soon enough.

So why drink it?

[ Gladio's serious. If something sucks, why are you bothering to choke it down sip by sip. Get rid of it and order what you want. ]

Hey, it's on me anyway. Oi, bartender!

[ He lifts his hand and summons the man behind the bar, and this is when things take a turn. Gladio makes the mistake of trying to match Re-L drink for drink, a terrible idea considering his zero fucking percent body fat and while his build helps? It also hinders as he metabolizes it faster than his liver can process it.

It takes two generous glasses of wine before he's sitting in a booth with Re-L, her comm device in his hand while he explains why it's a good idea to let him write her Friendr profile. ]

Seeking... alright, what kind of people do you not hate?

I like it just fine. you just don't strike me as a dry wine type of man. [ Or wine in general, but weren't she and Jim just bitching up a storm about Bones and gender generalizations? Either way, she's glad for another glass, even if she has to bite back something about how she's perfectly capable of getting herself another glass of wine. If he wants to buy her a glass, go ahead and let him -

She certainly doesn't expect to be taking him drink for drink, much less moving over to a more comfortable seat so that they can chat without half the bar hearing as well, and something possesses her (hint, it's the wine) to pass over her communicator and let him go at this friendr thing. She'd seen no point in it - still didn't - but if it kept him entertained.

The question inspires a little hum out of her, taking a moment to swish her next drink of wine in her mouth, mull it over, then - ]

I do need someone to cook for me. I'm useless at it. [ Except that qualifies as a chef or a maid, not a friend. As she thinks about it, though... there's a moment where her hand comes up, almost like she's about to cough, to cover a laugh as she shrugs her shoulders. ]

Hell, I have no idea. I just don't want people annoying me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( semi-closed ) i'll drink to that

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