[Log] Isshin, Grimmjow (Party Log)
Title: WE NEED MOAR DRINKS!
Characters: Isshin (lotus_seed), Grimmjow (formative)
Timeline: September 1, 2007
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Isshin and Grimmjow have a couple of shots. Fun times! Takes place right after this log
Isshin hauled the musician toward the bar, even though the man was cursing up a storm and fighting him all the way. The editor had a wild grin plastered on his face from slightly too many drinks earlier in the evening, which was made even wider at the prospect of even more drinks to come.
What did Grimmjow say about his penis? Now that was strange, Isshin thought with a slight chuckle.
As he squeezed his way to the front of the bar, his grip around Grimm's neck loosened and he shouted above the din of the other partygoers, "OI, WE NEED SHOTS OVER HERE!" He turned slightly to Grimmjow. "Whaddya say to tequilya?"
"TEQUILA!!"
Grimmjow had just begun to enjoy himself when the bathroom police appeared by his side out of the blue and dragged him away from that little beer murderer. The arm around his shoulder had locked around his neck at the first sign of resistance causing the blue-haired man to swear and curse at his kidnapper all the way to the bar.
As soon as Isshin let go, the Arrancar straightened up, ready to punch the other man's lights out, host or not host, but before he could even get his fist up, he had a shot glass in his hand and a slightly manic Japanese in his face.
"What the fuck is wrong with..." He stopped. He thought of their little encounter in the men's room and decided that he already knew the answer. "Oh, what the hell." He already occasionally drank with the son so why not with the father as well? Besides, he was not the kind of man who'd refuse free booze ever.
"To crazy bathroom whistlers!" Grinning he raised his glass and knocked it back.
"Yeah - uh, what? - OH RIGHT!" Isshin laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, and picked up a shot glass.
"And to hand-washers," he tossed back the shot and immediately refilled it. "Hey man, no hard feelings about the kid back there - he's sorta nervous and stuff... you probably gave him a fucking heart attack..."
He poured for Grimmjow and reached over the bar for some limes before getting a very random thought. "Hey how many of these d'you think you can drink?" he asked.
Grimmjow snatched a slice of lime and sucked on it copiously, watching Isshin immediately refill the glasses. "'Twas da whole point of 'at excercise," he mumbled around the piece of lime. "Was jus' gettin' fun when ya showed up 'n blew it, man. Worst timin' ever."
The Arrancar blinked at the other man's question and grinned, revealing a coat of green over his teeth.
"Ya ain't gonna be able to keep up, old man." He had no idea how many shots Isshin could drink before falling over but he figured that being middle-aged, a pencil pusher and a father of three automatically meant that he could definitely not drink a rock star under the table.
Oh, how sweet and ignorant the young could be.
A slow grin spread over Isshin's face.
"Oh is that right?" he poured himself a second and leveled an eye at Grimmjow before throwing back his shot.
"Sorry about stoppin' you back there - but the kid's got something like ten brothers and sisters he's taking care of," Isshin chuckled and poured himself another.
"Yeah, whatever." Grimmjow knocked his drink back and smacked his lips. "It ain't that much fun if they don't fight back anyway."
The Arrancar reached for the bottle to fill his glass. "Jus' makes me end up feelin' kinda dirty 'n that ain't fun if ya know what I mean. So... guess I should thank ya fer draggin' me off that bub."
Besides, if he really wanted a good time, he could always pick on Ichigo.
"'Sides, if I want a good time, I can always pick on Ichigo."
Isshin's eyebrow quirked up. "Oh yeah? So that guy fights back?" he pushed his shot glass toward Grimm for a refill.
Maybe Grimmjow didn't know the family connection - it wasn't not as if Ichigo looked anything like his old man, and that he did all he could to separate himself from his familial ties. Isshin grinned to himself. He wasn't going to say anything to blow Ichigo's cover, but he did intend to find out what Grimmjow knew, and he looked forward to drinking the bass player silly.
Fuck! Grimmjow hadn't meant to say it out loud. Filling Isshin's glass bought him a little time to think about how to respond.
Oh what the hell! He wasn't going to lie about something as much fun as fighting with the dickhead. Not even if it was the father he was talking to.
"Yeah, he tries. He's gotta mean right hook but it ain't as mean as mine!" Cackling he knocked his tequila back and slammed the glass on the counter. "That bub's a funny one. Always so fuckin' serious 'bout ev'rythin' 'n actin' like an old man. It's pretty annoyin'."
Isshin chuckled at Grimmjow's momentary "oh shit" moment, and then at his calling Ichigo an old man.
"Yeah he takes life pretty serious," he brought the shot glass up to his smiling lips. Of course, seeing your mom killed in front of your eyes would do that. He brought the empty glass down quietly and refilled both glasses.
Determined not to entertain those thoughts further - at least not tonight. "What, you guys just - beat on each other for fun?" Isshin laughed briefly at the thought. For all the times Isshin had attacked him, in hopes of getting Ichigo to loosen up and get out of his shell, friendly violence had become... a habit?
"Hey does he still blink hard right before he jabs?"
"Is there any other way? If it ain't fun, it ain't worth doin', ya know?" The Arrancar smirked and waggled his eyebrows at Isshin. The second question made him blink and then roar with laughter when the implications sank in.
"Fuck yeah! Saved me from endin' up with a broken jaw more 'n once, I tell ya." he gasped, slapping the older man on the back. "Bet he doesn't even realise he's doin' it."
Maybe Grimmjow had been a little too optimistic about his drinking skills. Several bottles of beer, the shots he'd taken with his asshole band mates, some more beer, the adrenaline injection from fighting with albino boy and now the drinks with Ichi's old man were becoming more noticeable.
Running a hand through his bright blue hair, he shook his head lightly. "Shit man, he could do with loosenin' up a little once in a while. Maybe we should gang up on him and beat the extra fifty years he's carryin' 'round outta his system?"
Isshin kept the tequila pouring. This could be fun - but not here, in front of all the cameras, had to behave tonight.
"Ya think?" he grinned and raised an eyebrow at Grimmjow. "I haven't gone up with him in... oh, it's been a while now. Dunno why he never got rid of that blink, ta think I tried to teach him something," he laughed before throwing back the shot.
"You know," Isshin fixed his eyes Grimmjow, but kept his tone fun, "You might even wanna go up against his old man just for the hell of it..." he poured himself another.
Going up against the old man? Now, there was an idea... A bad idea. A really, really bad idea which made it even more appealing in the Grimmjow's eyes.
He eyed Isshin, a spark of excitement in his eyes and licked his lips. "I like the way ya think, man," he drawled, grinning like a lunatic. "But I ain't too keen on gettin' bitched at by frowny, ya know?"
Speaking of frowny. Where the hell was the dumbass anyway?
"Heh, 'Frowny'. Dunno why I never called 'im that myself," Isshin chuckled and threw back a drink just as something caught his eye in the sea of bodies dancing several feet away. The distinctive silver hair and a flash of bracelets around a raised, gesturing hand looked too appealing to ignore.
He slid the bottle toward Grimmjow with a big grin. "Hey man, thanks for havin' the drinks with me. Gotta run, but maybe we'll catch up again later...." he was already halfway across the room.
Grimmjow watched Isshin disappear in the crowd and pushed away from the bar. "Yo, watch this fer me, will ya? Gotta carry some water away first." he said to the other, much less appealing barkeeper and swaggered away, cursing under his breath when his ribs protested. Damn albino boy got him good there.
When he returned from the men's room, he had all but forgotten about his tequila bottle and wandered back into Las Noches.
Characters: Isshin (lotus_seed), Grimmjow (formative)
Timeline: September 1, 2007
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Isshin and Grimmjow have a couple of shots. Fun times! Takes place right after this log
Isshin hauled the musician toward the bar, even though the man was cursing up a storm and fighting him all the way. The editor had a wild grin plastered on his face from slightly too many drinks earlier in the evening, which was made even wider at the prospect of even more drinks to come.
What did Grimmjow say about his penis? Now that was strange, Isshin thought with a slight chuckle.
As he squeezed his way to the front of the bar, his grip around Grimm's neck loosened and he shouted above the din of the other partygoers, "OI, WE NEED SHOTS OVER HERE!" He turned slightly to Grimmjow. "Whaddya say to tequilya?"
"TEQUILA!!"
Grimmjow had just begun to enjoy himself when the bathroom police appeared by his side out of the blue and dragged him away from that little beer murderer. The arm around his shoulder had locked around his neck at the first sign of resistance causing the blue-haired man to swear and curse at his kidnapper all the way to the bar.
As soon as Isshin let go, the Arrancar straightened up, ready to punch the other man's lights out, host or not host, but before he could even get his fist up, he had a shot glass in his hand and a slightly manic Japanese in his face.
"What the fuck is wrong with..." He stopped. He thought of their little encounter in the men's room and decided that he already knew the answer. "Oh, what the hell." He already occasionally drank with the son so why not with the father as well? Besides, he was not the kind of man who'd refuse free booze ever.
"To crazy bathroom whistlers!" Grinning he raised his glass and knocked it back.
"Yeah - uh, what? - OH RIGHT!" Isshin laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, and picked up a shot glass.
"And to hand-washers," he tossed back the shot and immediately refilled it. "Hey man, no hard feelings about the kid back there - he's sorta nervous and stuff... you probably gave him a fucking heart attack..."
He poured for Grimmjow and reached over the bar for some limes before getting a very random thought. "Hey how many of these d'you think you can drink?" he asked.
Grimmjow snatched a slice of lime and sucked on it copiously, watching Isshin immediately refill the glasses. "'Twas da whole point of 'at excercise," he mumbled around the piece of lime. "Was jus' gettin' fun when ya showed up 'n blew it, man. Worst timin' ever."
The Arrancar blinked at the other man's question and grinned, revealing a coat of green over his teeth.
"Ya ain't gonna be able to keep up, old man." He had no idea how many shots Isshin could drink before falling over but he figured that being middle-aged, a pencil pusher and a father of three automatically meant that he could definitely not drink a rock star under the table.
Oh, how sweet and ignorant the young could be.
A slow grin spread over Isshin's face.
"Oh is that right?" he poured himself a second and leveled an eye at Grimmjow before throwing back his shot.
"Sorry about stoppin' you back there - but the kid's got something like ten brothers and sisters he's taking care of," Isshin chuckled and poured himself another.
"Yeah, whatever." Grimmjow knocked his drink back and smacked his lips. "It ain't that much fun if they don't fight back anyway."
The Arrancar reached for the bottle to fill his glass. "Jus' makes me end up feelin' kinda dirty 'n that ain't fun if ya know what I mean. So... guess I should thank ya fer draggin' me off that bub."
Besides, if he really wanted a good time, he could always pick on Ichigo.
"'Sides, if I want a good time, I can always pick on Ichigo."
Isshin's eyebrow quirked up. "Oh yeah? So that guy fights back?" he pushed his shot glass toward Grimm for a refill.
Maybe Grimmjow didn't know the family connection - it wasn't not as if Ichigo looked anything like his old man, and that he did all he could to separate himself from his familial ties. Isshin grinned to himself. He wasn't going to say anything to blow Ichigo's cover, but he did intend to find out what Grimmjow knew, and he looked forward to drinking the bass player silly.
Fuck! Grimmjow hadn't meant to say it out loud. Filling Isshin's glass bought him a little time to think about how to respond.
Oh what the hell! He wasn't going to lie about something as much fun as fighting with the dickhead. Not even if it was the father he was talking to.
"Yeah, he tries. He's gotta mean right hook but it ain't as mean as mine!" Cackling he knocked his tequila back and slammed the glass on the counter. "That bub's a funny one. Always so fuckin' serious 'bout ev'rythin' 'n actin' like an old man. It's pretty annoyin'."
Isshin chuckled at Grimmjow's momentary "oh shit" moment, and then at his calling Ichigo an old man.
"Yeah he takes life pretty serious," he brought the shot glass up to his smiling lips. Of course, seeing your mom killed in front of your eyes would do that. He brought the empty glass down quietly and refilled both glasses.
Determined not to entertain those thoughts further - at least not tonight. "What, you guys just - beat on each other for fun?" Isshin laughed briefly at the thought. For all the times Isshin had attacked him, in hopes of getting Ichigo to loosen up and get out of his shell, friendly violence had become... a habit?
"Hey does he still blink hard right before he jabs?"
"Is there any other way? If it ain't fun, it ain't worth doin', ya know?" The Arrancar smirked and waggled his eyebrows at Isshin. The second question made him blink and then roar with laughter when the implications sank in.
"Fuck yeah! Saved me from endin' up with a broken jaw more 'n once, I tell ya." he gasped, slapping the older man on the back. "Bet he doesn't even realise he's doin' it."
Maybe Grimmjow had been a little too optimistic about his drinking skills. Several bottles of beer, the shots he'd taken with his asshole band mates, some more beer, the adrenaline injection from fighting with albino boy and now the drinks with Ichi's old man were becoming more noticeable.
Running a hand through his bright blue hair, he shook his head lightly. "Shit man, he could do with loosenin' up a little once in a while. Maybe we should gang up on him and beat the extra fifty years he's carryin' 'round outta his system?"
Isshin kept the tequila pouring. This could be fun - but not here, in front of all the cameras, had to behave tonight.
"Ya think?" he grinned and raised an eyebrow at Grimmjow. "I haven't gone up with him in... oh, it's been a while now. Dunno why he never got rid of that blink, ta think I tried to teach him something," he laughed before throwing back the shot.
"You know," Isshin fixed his eyes Grimmjow, but kept his tone fun, "You might even wanna go up against his old man just for the hell of it..." he poured himself another.
Going up against the old man? Now, there was an idea... A bad idea. A really, really bad idea which made it even more appealing in the Grimmjow's eyes.
He eyed Isshin, a spark of excitement in his eyes and licked his lips. "I like the way ya think, man," he drawled, grinning like a lunatic. "But I ain't too keen on gettin' bitched at by frowny, ya know?"
Speaking of frowny. Where the hell was the dumbass anyway?
"Heh, 'Frowny'. Dunno why I never called 'im that myself," Isshin chuckled and threw back a drink just as something caught his eye in the sea of bodies dancing several feet away. The distinctive silver hair and a flash of bracelets around a raised, gesturing hand looked too appealing to ignore.
He slid the bottle toward Grimmjow with a big grin. "Hey man, thanks for havin' the drinks with me. Gotta run, but maybe we'll catch up again later...." he was already halfway across the room.
Grimmjow watched Isshin disappear in the crowd and pushed away from the bar. "Yo, watch this fer me, will ya? Gotta carry some water away first." he said to the other, much less appealing barkeeper and swaggered away, cursing under his breath when his ribs protested. Damn albino boy got him good there.
When he returned from the men's room, he had all but forgotten about his tequila bottle and wandered back into Las Noches.