nysalogs | . all you have's your axe to grind . closed

[This is Chuuya’s first trip to Wyver, and after a bit of sightseeing he’s decided to visit his favorite kind of establishment; the kind that serves booze. Everything in Wyver has a wild sort of touch to it, an untamed side that Chuuya finds quite intriguing, and the alcohol is no different. He picks out a seat next to the one person who seems unreceptive to guests, because that’s just how Chuuya rolls.

He’s pleasantly surprised by the drink order, and he gladly takes a sip, the glass hiding his roguish grin.]

I came here for the booze, but the atmosphere isn’t bad.

[He also partakes of the bar’s snacks, popping a peanut into his mouth and crunching it between his teeth.]

What about you?

[In front of Takasugi is a small glass, to wide for shots but not large enough for much else, and a bottle. Whatever liquor he's ordered is about half-empty, and the label is scrawled with what could just as easily be a design as a language. His glass is filled - Takasugi drags his finger over the cool base before lifting it to his lips and drinking the contents.

Here for the booze, huh? That's a pretty simple answer.

He turns to the other man, far arm propping an elbow on the bar.] This. [A gesture to his bottle of liquor.] It's not a common drink.

Pursuing alcohol is easier when you're not picky. [There are times Takasugi isn't - he'll drink anything with a bite that leaves his gut warm and his face numb - but though he knows it's impossible to find, he's prone to searching for a taste of home.]

Yeah? What’s so special about it?

[Listen, Chuuya is here to try any and all liquor he can, whether he can pronounce it or not. Whether he ends up terribly hungover in the morning or not is of little consequence right now, and he finishes off the glass he’d been so kindly offered. It burns in all the right ways, and Chuuya is as relaxed as he can be in foreign territory.

Not that he cares about the whole Wyver vs. Olympia thing.]

You got a name? Mine’s Chuuya.

[First Takasugi hums, taking the time to pour himself a new glass. Then he extends his arm, plucking Chuuya's empty glass with an outstretched finger to fill it as well, before sliding it back.]

It's made from rice, and it's stronger than any wine or brew.

[He tilts his glass towards his company, a silent toast.] Tani.

[And he takes his shot, letting the liquor roll over his tongue rather than splashing it into the back of his throat.] Like it?

[Anybody that refills Chuuya’s glass without asking is all right in his book. He grins, clinking his glass against Tani’s before taking another sip.]

I’m always looking for the strongest booze.

[Chuuya allows the liquid to coat his tongue this time, shivering at the overpowering flavor. Yup, right up his alley.]

Not bad. I’m thinking it’ll get me wasted pretty damn quick if I’m not careful, though.

[He traces a finger around the rim of the glass.]

Surprised you’re by yourself. Unless that’s how you wanted it.

Edited 2018-04-17 02:58 (UTC)

[If Chuuya wants 'the strongest', he'd be better off with something foreign. The shit brewed in alien cellars has more potent of an effect than anything else, but the taste is intolerable. Some of his crew had once made a game out of stomaching it, and they'd all vomited before they were able to get buzzed.

Even if Takasugi finds a drink that isn't reminiscent of 'home', he'll take something palatable over something irrationally strong.

What he has now is a comfortable in-between.]

Aa. [He'd wanted to drink alone, but he isn't suffering for his company.] I thought you wanted to get drunk.

No need to be careful. [Another glass poured for himself, though this is where Takasugi's generosity runs out, and Chuuya is left to order for himself.]

[He’s had some pretty strong stuff in Olympia that knocked him on his ass, which is pretty goddamn impressive considering how much tolerance he’s built up over the years. Small he may be, but he can drink almost anyone under the table.]

It’s no fun if two drinks get me plastered. Gotta pace myself.

[He doesn’t mind if he has to order himself. One free drink is more than enough to impress him.]

You planning on getting wasted too?

[Chuuya is awfully chatty tonight.]

You look like a pretty interesting guy. Like you’ve seen some shit.

Heh. Who knows. [It's not often Takasugi goes drinking with a plan. Usually, sitting at a bar, liquor in hand, is an indication that he's without one, drifting through his night on his way towards whatever goal he's set.

Patience, waiting, passing time in a haze that makes everything at once slower and faster, is a necessity in all plans.

Both at home, and on this planet.]

I haven't seen anything here. [In Edo, 'seen some shit' is certainly a way to put his experiences. Crude, he wouldn't consider it inappropriate. But on Nysa, there's been nothing surprising. Nothing interesting.]

[To be fair, Chuuya rarely ever has a plan of action either. Maybe he did back in his Mafia days, out of pure necessity, but now? Now he’s just wandering aimlessly, looking for a purpose.

Nights like these help keep his sanity intact.]

Yeah? I’ve seen all kinds of magical bullshit since I got here.

[He gives Tani a once-over.]

Were you a samurai or something?

Edited (NOTICED A TYPO) 2018-04-20 20:45 (UTC)

[How many among them - the refugees stolen from their worlds - have truly accepted the Natha's purpose? Live among their people, and... do what? When Takasugi meets those who have decided to be pliant, he asks.

And they never give much of an answer.

Takasugi tilts his head, watches Chuuya look him over.

Were. His laugh is sharp, sudden. Not unlike a glass breaking on the floor.] What makes you think I've stopped calling myself one? ['Samurai' implies some sort of code of honor, which he'd never had. The title doesn't suit him.

But, adrift in space, it's all he's known as.]

[The laugh does little to unnerve him; when you grow up around people like Mori and Dazai (and Akutagawa, of course), you stop being creeped out so easily.]

You still fight, huh? Me too.

[Chuuya orders yet another drink, and halfway through it he finally feels the familiar warmth and fuzziness of intoxication begin to set in.]

Though I like knives more than swords.

Ah. [Takasugi's fingers rest on the brim of his empty glass, idly stroking the cool surface.]

Why do you fight? [For some, its as simple as a need. Like breathing or sleeping, crossing blades and drawing blood serve as a foundation for warriors and brats alike.

He'd rather hear an answer like that, then something like 'to protect my friends' or 'to repay my saviors'. This place is already saturated in that shit.]

[Chuuya lets out a little chuckle at that.]

Do I need a reason?

[He used to have a reason, a purpose, but now? Now Chuuya is on his own, and he only fights for himself (and maybe like two other people).]

What about you?

[Takasugi turns to the bar, gesturing for another shot. It's almost as if he's ignored such a vague answer, but there's a small smile - wry - on his face as he mulls over his reply.]

Don't have one.

I just do. [I simply destroy, is his mantra.]

Maybe we'll wreck something together someday. [You know. Just because.

Since neither of them needs a reason.]

Sounds like a good time.

[Chuuya being encouraged to be destructive is always fun. He won’t go too crazy though.]

You got any plans for tonight?

[One step at a time.

If this guy is as good at destroying things as he seems, then comes the encouragement to go crazy.

But, for now, Takasugi's satisfied with the other's mindset alone.] None after this- [He receives his new shot in hand, and tilts it to gesture to the bar.]

What about you?

No plans.

[And then Chuuya gets a ~~stupid~~ brilliant idea.]

Do you wanna have a drinking contest? See who can handle their booze better?

[Takasugi's been here longer - been drinking longer - but a handicap never stopped him.

A challenge is a challenge. It may not be a fight, won't leave him with the satisfaction of scraped, bloody skin and a sense of victory (it'll leave him with a headache), but it beats staring at the light flickering against the display of alcohol behind the bar.]

Heh.

Loser pays for the night. [Stakes placed, Takasugi goes ahead and orders some really expensive rum - the whole bottle to split.

He holds his glass up, a silent toast and a nod, before starting the contest with a gulp.]

You got a deal.

[Nothing feels as good as a knock down, drag-out fight, but drinking really is a close second. Eventual hangover aside, it’s a fun way to pass the time.

Chuuya pours himself a glass of that rum and mirrors the toast before downing it all in one long gulp.]

Haaaahh!! Good stuff!

[He pours himself another glass, and it’s clear that he has no intentions of stopping until he’s passed out.]

I like you already, you know. No bullshit. You don’t try schmoozing people or playing around.

[So often, drinking leads to the knock down, drag-out fighting. Takasugi isn't planning on starting shit, but... their punches won't be pulled, if someone else does.]

No. People are hardly worth the honest compliments they get-

[Much less any bullshit ones. For a man so active in diplomacy back home, Takasugi has an odd candor to his negotiation style. Like threatening the sovereign of a nation he's allied with, just... casually...

He pours another glass and drinks, his actions more understated than Chuuya's, but his pace no slower.] I'd rather twist someone's arm than blow smoke up their ass.

Damn right.

[Chuuya will match him glass for glass, and soon he starts feeling even more pleasantly warm than before as the alcohol courses through his veins.]

I don’t give compliments I don’t mean.

[He leans closer to Tani, grinning.]

Do you wanna hear one?

Edited 2018-05-13 22:41 (UTC)

[Takasugi had already been bathing in heat - the Wyver humidity, and the gentle fog of inebriation. When his drinks settle in his gut, sensation grows dull. He's aware of throbbing, but not of temperature. Of the beading sweat under the hair that sticks to his brow, but not the damp warmth.

With distance closed, Takasugi replies in kind, leaning heavily on the bar to tilt his head towards his opponent's.]

If you want to tell me, then do it- [He's not impatient, but his lips want for the cool rim of a glass, not idle chatter.]

Feeling the heat?

[He can see the light sheen of sweat on Tani’s skin, and yeah, it’s pretty fucking hot in here, even with the light breeze that blows in through the window on occasion.

But that doesn’t stop Chuuya from drinking, nor does it make him any less prone to running his mouth.]

Hmm, let’s see.

[He taps his chin, then breaks into a devious grin.]

You’re pretty hot. In more ways than one.

[There's no reason to answer that.

It's obvious that he is. Rather than argue, Takasugi's hand drifts to the brim of his glass, fingers skirting over the cool surface before he lifts it to his mouth.

Not refreshing, but the bite of alcohol is at least distracting.

Soon he'll be numb to the discomfort entirely.]

Oh? [Unexpected. Takasugi's eyebrows raise, betraying something almost like interest.] Heh.

Does the direct approach usually work out for you? [It hasn't failed yet, in this particular encounter.]

Yeah, actually. Like 99% of the time.

[Because Chuuya is confident and cocky, and knows exactly how pretty he is. Not to mention the booze lowers his inhibitions even more.]

You got good taste in booze, too.

[Chuuya takes another drink.]

Anybody that can drink like you do must know how to have a good time.

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