dohhuuuuu

[pimpmyship]

Characters: pimpmyship AND YOU
Where & When: IN SOME BAR... in the Metropolis district why not!! The night after Christmas.
Rating: PG?? KIDS DON'T DRINK WHEN YOU'RE SAD. YOU KNOW WHAT JUST DON'T DRINK IF YOU'RE A KID
Summary: Warrius drinks because he's sad and has guilt complexes the size of harlock's hair

Comments

[sansfear]

It wasn't so much a wish as a passing notion, but the whiskey was set out for him nonetheless; the tender had no inclination to greet or even give a passing glance to the new captain and his noisy companion. It was odd etiquette for such an establishment, but Splendor was odd enough - one anti-social barkeep was hardly cause for concern.

The clank of Harlock's boots ceased at the bar where the drink had slid into view, just at Warrius' side. He took the seat without invitation or announcement (save for the bird hopping down with a graceless thud and hobbling around - wishes granted and all, there was a fish nearby it could pilfer without punishment). Half of the drink vanished in the silence, neither prompted nor prompting anything from his acquaintance. It wasn't an ignorant quiet, though - Harlock knew the air of discontent and how it hung on the shoulders of even the most sober of men. It wasn't hard to acknowledge or understand at the moment. More importantly, it wasn't his; those feelings or problems were Warrius', and that man was free to do or not do with them what he wished. Booze included.

Harlock just came in for the drink, after all.

[pimpmyship]

As Harlock took his place, Warrius granted him another passing glance before returning his attention to the glass. He almost made a conscious effort to stop thinking about the matters that had weighed on his heart and brought him there to clear his mind. The expression on his face was heavy, both with discomfort and the determination to brush that same feeling off. His eyes were still looking away, focusing on the bottles on display, half-distracted by the loud bird, and he spoke the first word of the night.

"Why are you here?"

[sansfear]

Any cares weighted on Harlock's shoulders were left there, his expression as placid as ever in the face of Warrius' gloom. Aloofness was no factor; Harlock had simply had more years to shoulder his burdens in the ways that suited him best.

As for the question, well...it could've meant more than one thing, but Harlock didn't feel compelled to walk a more philosophical route on merely the notion of being prompted on it. Simpler was better.

"I wanted a drink."

[pimpmyship]

A drink. If there was anything he'd learned from Harlock, was that the renowned pirate always had a motive. And if he didn't, he'd simply place his reasons on indulgence. Do what you want, however you want.

Wouldn't that be nice.

"You have your drink." He stated, leaning his forehead into his hand. Warrius had wondered, more than once, why Harlock was the one brought to Splendor. Of all the people he'd known and vowed to protect... Here sat only a reminder of his inability to do so.

[sansfear]

Harlock didn't need an invitation; a third vanished before permission was granted. It wasn't bad, but alcohol always tasted better in the company of higher spirits.

"The stars are foreign here," he remarked, an invitation in of itself. Whether the topic sank or floated was entirely up to the man sinking in misery.

[pimpmyship]

Silence. He thought of it, and the nights he'd try to study them, see if he could apply any of his decorated maps and get some familiarity. Should the hopeful opportunity arise where he was required to give his coordinates...

"They are." And the glass was raised again. "But they are there." That meant something. Maybe this world wasn't as distant as most made it out to be. Maybe their biggest obstacle was a matter of when instead of where.

[sansfear]

The corner of Harlock's mouth tugged a very brief smirk at the reply. There would've been dry, almost sneering remarks to follow had he been precisely the same as his youth, but there was nothing alive that didn't change over time. He was no exception, not even in his famously-stated resolve. Even that had become a less lenient thing in mind and in practice. The Harlock of the moment let the comment sink wholly into silence for the time it took to swing back his drink with little flair or attention to the act at all. It was fairly reflex.

The glass made a dull and hollow sound when it was set back down.

"This is exactly what he would do," he said at length. "My friend. The problems of this place, if there are any, will come when they will. There's no point in taking up arms against something you'll waste all your energy to find. Let it come to you. Deal with it then.

"So long as there's something to drink to pass the time."

[pimpmyship]

Warrius rested his forehead in his hand, tense eyebrows furrowing. His mind wasn't clear, and he could feel himself move slower. He wanted to laugh, and, after a few good moments, he did. For all the things this situation represented, Harlock's approach was as admirable as it was frustrating.

"Drink and hope for the best. That's what you propose." The remains of his laughter eventually died out, turning it into something dry. Hollow. What brought the Federation's captain here wasn't the search for a way to deal, it was the desire to avoid dealing with anything at all (and even that had been ruined by the outlawed captain). He wasn't proud, he did not even feel justified, but he was human.

[sansfear]

"It's what he proposed," Harlock corrected, hardly rankled - if at all. Externally, he showed little to no regard for Warrius' fidgeting and grim laughter outside of the slow and inscrutable glance that came time to time as his attention split between that man and the bird (who was much more content to sit and pick apart a fish while the humans had their drinks).

There was an emptiness - a lack of motive or intent in Harlock's voice as he finished off his thought on it: "You're not him. You'll do or not do what suits you."

[pimpmyship]

"Yes. With no one to give me orders this time, isn't that right?" The statement was meant as an anticipation to what he guessed would be Harlock's criticism, just as harsh as it was revealing.

[sansfear]

Harlock's gaze settled back on Warrius yet again, lingering. "Is it?"

[pimpmyship]

The dry tone was back. "I certainly hope so. I'd be in trouble otherwise."