[Closed]

[cariad]

Who: Yamagi Gilmerton (cariad) & Eugene Sevenstark (presses)
What: Not a date night
When: After the end of the epidemic
Where: Wyver's West End
Warning(s): N/A so far



[Of all the culture shocks to accumulate to and through, Yamagi's most pleasantly surprised by the relatively warmer weather. Anything is rather warmer than Chryse--or any of the space ships his brethren have lived in for the past few years. He recalls tropical nights on Earth where the only breeze had been a kiss in passing on his cheek in the evening.

It's why he insists on settling outside with their tankards, close enough to the square to people-watch but with enough distance to hear one another talk. Yamagi's already through his third drink, enough to bring a flush to his cheek without dulling his senses. Five years of coping had seen to that.]

And then I dropped the crystal on Mikazuki's head. [A punchline. A drink. A light of something akin to life in his eyes.] He dodged, of course. That's Mikazuki for you, otherwise I'd have had to drag him concussed back home, and he's heavy. I've forgotten how heavy he was!

I don't think it'd have killed him. He has enough hair to cushion the drop.

Comments

[presses]

( Eugene grits a groan through a chuckle, tightening the hold on the handle of his tankard and attempting to mute his own laugh, if only to hear any sort of cheer in Yamagi's voice that he can grasp. since that fateful day, it gradually became less of a rarity and more of his own personal lifeline in any moment of uncertainty.

and every moment here, while testing his hard-earned ability to simply enjoy the small blessings he has in the present and not to dwell, is as uncertain as all of the space in between and around the stars in the sky. feeling the warmth of having Yamagi's arm almost touching his, the charged air between them is comfortably familiar, and being able to talk about their friend in the present tense is jarring but not foreign — it's like slipping into an old and worn pair of shoes. putting a uniform jacket on again. )

Tch, you don't know how much I freaked out about that, back in those days. Always wondering if something were to take him out, and if I had to be the one to lift him out of danger.

( he sucks in his breath, stopping himself from making his own punchline. Mikazuki was taken out after all.

from missiles. dropped on him in space. nothing less could steal him from the mortal realm, and even then, he's here. with them now. nothing could defeat him. )

[cariad]

Not worse than getting stuck with him out in the wilds here. I'd have had to apologize to Orga's pod for hours.

[Something rises to his own throat the name he mentions himself. He's stammered out his deepest, if not soundly buried regrets to Mikazuki only a few months ago. Of all the things he never got the grace to say, his cruel words to Orga torment him the most.

It's a sobering thought as he takes his next drink more slowly, the slosh in his mouth burning the back of his tongue.

Nights in Chryse had weathered the most of his restless sleep, long hours of back-breaking factory work seeing to dreamlessness, if he were lucky.

For all the freedom invading his lungs like bursts of air here, Yamagi's demons creep back into the back of his head once more. He has the luxury to fret now.]

We should really introduce him to football, sometimes. If anything, it should be entertaining.

[The bitterness melting into his tongue dissipate slowly, the burning a familiar sensation by now. When he runs his fingers through his hair, warmed by the last rays of the sun, they don't snag on the nonexistent elastic band. It must have dropped off along the way.]

Haven't seen any sort of sports around here, though, but they do love dancing. Hey, Eugene, we should try dancing while we're here.

[presses]

( Yamagi talks a lot more than he used to, but there are still traces of manic or nervous energy behind it. there are silences to be filled, and Eugene has realized that Yamagi's brain is actually running, running, running so fast that he's an expert at clipped tangents. there's probably a flowchart to everything he thinks, and that type of thinking might be why he never expressed himself to Eugene's idiot of a best friend.

well, in a direct way.

it always makes him smile, to listen to him, and how Yamagi has changed but not really at all. that's the thing about loving people, feeling everythings and nothings and both and neither and all sorts of things that can't be categorical. )

Haha, yeah.

( wait. it's belated, but a flare hits Eugene's cheeks as he glances away, quickly shoving his cup to his mouth. to potentially stop himself from asking "why" or "together" ??

after a few seconds, he's ready. maybe. to speak. )

I always had an excuse not to do it whenever I went to any functions with Miss Kudelia. You know, can't really let my guard down at those things. Mostly I just hate when I'm not automatically good at something ...

( there. play it cool! )

[cariad]

With legs this long? You'd be sweeping everyone in the room in no time.

[What Yamagi chooses not to say speaks volumes, what he doesn't address. The specter in the room and the negative space between them whenever their former client and Eugene's superior is brought up. The tension of fingers on a a near empty tankard and the nails that dig below flesh only enough to leave mere pink imprints.]

You're not at work now, so that's one less excuse.

[Yamagi's not averse to "fun", himself, in the spaces he's carved out for himself away from the maternal concern of Atra and Merribit and the professional rigidness of the factory with its hundred awed faces that's made him something he's not.

There, no one needs to know his name. Nor here.]

You can hate this later. [He tugs at Eugene's sleeve, already halfway out of his chair and around the table] The music here's better than Olympia, anyway. It'd be a waste of our free time to not indulge.

[presses]

( but what if he hates this now? especially because it's Yamagi, and so fuss as he might, Eugene has no choice but to oblige, and the lack of choice when it comes to anything that might make Yamagi happy or put a smile on his face helps Eugene cope with the fact that he's actually eager to do anything for it. no matter how potentially humiliating. )

So you're telling me you learned how to do it?

( Yamagi is a fast-learner at just about anything, so it shouldn't come out as curiously surprised as it does. he probably just looked at a visual guide and remembered it perfectly or something equally absurd.

or maybe.

maybe he took lessons with Chad or something. Chad. )

You're really making me do this, huh ...

( but he's putting down his drink, of course. )

[cariad]

I learned a bit for Atra's wedding.

[Which, understandably, Eugene might not have been in full capacity to enjoy, given his position. He remembers utilizing the few lessons to dance with the twins, Fuka, and even Merribit. Everything after that point in a hazy half drunken recollection of the night.

Which is to say, not much at all.]

You haven't given me a good reason to turn me down.

[A vice grip at Eugene's elbow drags him to the edge of the square, feet lined without intersecting give them a semblance of space between them, a hand on Eugene's shoulder as insurance against changing his mind rather than a performative gesture.

When he hasn't been looking, the gap in height between them was starting to grow smaller.]

It's going to be fun, you'll see.