Immature
Title: Immature
Rating: PG-13 for alcohol
Fandom: Star Ocean: The Last Hope
Character(s): Myuria Tionysus, Arumat Thanatos
Word Count: 566
Summary: Arumat and Myuria are more alike than they would think.
Author's Note: Meme prompt from the A-Z drabble meme. For regetta.
She hated the man he worked with. Myuria harbored hate more than any other person he knew. Understandable though. But it wasn’t like it was Crowe’s fault Lucien died. But she didn’t care. She needed someone to go after, someone to reign judgment on. And Crowe happened to be the closest person to her right now.
Not that he hated anyone, but he wasn’t going to let her temper tantrum harm Crowe. Arumat would protect the solider with his own life. Well it would never have to come down to that and Arumat wouldn’t admit it either. He wanted to do things on his own, not to have anyone get in his way. The lone wolf as some would call it.
Both lost what seemingly felt like everything because well, it was. They either lost someone or a group of people important to them or at least respected. Arumat and Myuria handled it in their own way. But from the outside looking in on each other, they saw only one thing…
Everyone was exploring the new area they landed in, except for the Eldarian and Morphus. She again found herself sitting at the bar area, legs crossed, glass in hand, bottle almost empty. He walked out of the main control room, looking to head into the recreation area.
“Hold on a minute there, boy.”
“I have a name.”
Arumat only stopped for a second to see what the woman wanted. He didn’t have the time to listen to her drunken babble.
“You’ve never been afraid of death?”
“There’s no need.”
Myuria took a sip of the alcoholic beverage before she continued to speak.
“Well I have.”
“I’m not here to listen to your drunken stories. I’m leaving.”
“Wait.”
The pink hair woman grabbed Arumat’s wrist. This caused him to glare down at her. He didn’t have to tell her to let go; the look on his face did it for him. Too bad she wasn’t listening.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit juvenile of you to be like that?”
“You can handle hardly talk about being juvenile in your state. Using alcohol to rid yourself of your grief.”
An uncomfortable noise escaped from her lips. He might have been right if she agreed with him. She was just being stubborn. Myuria let go of Arumat’s wrist. She stood up in front of him, taking a step back as she swayed.
“Listen to me boy-”
“Arumat.”
“It’s immature of you to think you can take on everything yourself. Why do you think that boy does so well? He’s got friends to support him.”
The male said nothing, hoping that she would end her soapbox speech soon. On and on and on she went, rambling. He knew it would be better to just walk away, but the last thing he needed was for Myuria to follow him, still talking. Whatever she was saying, he was blocking it out anyway.
It took about twenty minutes (which was too long in his book) before she stopped. Arumat rolled his eyes as he listened to her speech slur and caught her before she hit the floor. She had passed out, the alcohol working its magic to finally shut her up. The Eldarian lifted the woman up to rest her over his shoulder, carrying Myuria up the stairs, making her way towards her room.
“Who is the one being immature now?”
Rating: PG-13 for alcohol
Fandom: Star Ocean: The Last Hope
Character(s): Myuria Tionysus, Arumat Thanatos
Word Count: 566
Summary: Arumat and Myuria are more alike than they would think.
Author's Note: Meme prompt from the A-Z drabble meme. For regetta.
She hated the man he worked with. Myuria harbored hate more than any other person he knew. Understandable though. But it wasn’t like it was Crowe’s fault Lucien died. But she didn’t care. She needed someone to go after, someone to reign judgment on. And Crowe happened to be the closest person to her right now.
Not that he hated anyone, but he wasn’t going to let her temper tantrum harm Crowe. Arumat would protect the solider with his own life. Well it would never have to come down to that and Arumat wouldn’t admit it either. He wanted to do things on his own, not to have anyone get in his way. The lone wolf as some would call it.
Both lost what seemingly felt like everything because well, it was. They either lost someone or a group of people important to them or at least respected. Arumat and Myuria handled it in their own way. But from the outside looking in on each other, they saw only one thing…
Everyone was exploring the new area they landed in, except for the Eldarian and Morphus. She again found herself sitting at the bar area, legs crossed, glass in hand, bottle almost empty. He walked out of the main control room, looking to head into the recreation area.
“Hold on a minute there, boy.”
“I have a name.”
Arumat only stopped for a second to see what the woman wanted. He didn’t have the time to listen to her drunken babble.
“You’ve never been afraid of death?”
“There’s no need.”
Myuria took a sip of the alcoholic beverage before she continued to speak.
“Well I have.”
“I’m not here to listen to your drunken stories. I’m leaving.”
“Wait.”
The pink hair woman grabbed Arumat’s wrist. This caused him to glare down at her. He didn’t have to tell her to let go; the look on his face did it for him. Too bad she wasn’t listening.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit juvenile of you to be like that?”
“You can handle hardly talk about being juvenile in your state. Using alcohol to rid yourself of your grief.”
An uncomfortable noise escaped from her lips. He might have been right if she agreed with him. She was just being stubborn. Myuria let go of Arumat’s wrist. She stood up in front of him, taking a step back as she swayed.
“Listen to me boy-”
“Arumat.”
“It’s immature of you to think you can take on everything yourself. Why do you think that boy does so well? He’s got friends to support him.”
The male said nothing, hoping that she would end her soapbox speech soon. On and on and on she went, rambling. He knew it would be better to just walk away, but the last thing he needed was for Myuria to follow him, still talking. Whatever she was saying, he was blocking it out anyway.
It took about twenty minutes (which was too long in his book) before she stopped. Arumat rolled his eyes as he listened to her speech slur and caught her before she hit the floor. She had passed out, the alcohol working its magic to finally shut her up. The Eldarian lifted the woman up to rest her over his shoulder, carrying Myuria up the stairs, making her way towards her room.
“Who is the one being immature now?”