(Untitled)

[bluffing_ruffle]

WHO: Miles Edgeworth, Obi-Wan Kenobi.
WHERE: Hell if they know anymore.
WHEN: Wednesday night.
WARNINGS: Booze, pain, bad decisions, guilt, and Desire getting its little hand in things.
SUMMARY: Actually, the warnings work quite well as the summary, too. XD
FORMAT: ...Why is this ever even a question, still?

Comments

[taughttolisten]

The best trait of a great Jedi Knight was patience, and Obi-Wan's was running thin.

Long years of discipline had taught him to yield his emotions to the Force and let it leave him empty and clean, but once the undead police had been taken care of, there seemed to be no relief at all. Telling Luke the truth about how much he'd wanted to be a real father to him had helped somewhat, but the moment he'd found himself wondering if Sarah could reshape her face and body into one he hadn't seen in years...

Even thinking about asking her made something inside him recoil in shame.

Most of the time he was not a lonely man by any stretch of the imagination, but lately that dark corner of his heart that missed and loved and craved like any other man had been stirring and stretching. Meditation was no comfort, and he knew he shouldn't be around his shapeshifter friends, no matter how dear

[bluffing_ruffle]

Drinks such as tequila and whiskey had never been his alcohol of choice, although he had not touched it in some time in order to see to it that Remus would not have access to the stuff while at home. He did not consider the other an alcoholic, but it was best not to play with an affliction he couldn't perfectly understand--despite what the wizard claimed, Edgeworth thought it entirely possible that the stuff had more of an effect than it otherwise appeared to.

No, he took to things like gin and vodka and wine. It didn't really matter which he had in front of him at the moment; it all served the same purpose in the end. He rarely--if ever--allowed himself to get to the point of drunkenness, valuing his self-control above nearly everything else... but he could go through a good deal of drink before getting to that point, and was nowhere near that limit just yet.

The grey-haired man stared blankly at the door to the small bar, watching patrons come in and generally not go out again. The only people who did leave together were, to

[taughttolisten]

A fairly inebriated pair of college students, both laughing and nearly radiating lust, stumbled past Obi-Wan as he made his way into the bar. Something weak and human in his heart twisted with jealousy: the last time he'd even kissed someone, the man had been thirty seconds dead in his arms.

There is no passion, he reminded himself halfheartedly, turning his attention to the bartender.

"Guinness, please."

[bluffing_ruffle]

Edgeworth watched intently as someone familiar walked in, and frowned to himself. He had chosen this place because he had been fairly sure he would have privacy; it was nowhere as popular as Dancitron and certainly not in a particularly notable area of town. And yet, there was a person he knew, unrepentantly but politely ordering a Guinness.

The odds of such things happening were, as far as he could figure, slim to none. Just as being injured had been, and just as the zombies were.

He was, truth be told, particularly sick and tired of having impossible situations abruptly become possible.

Edgeworth took another sip of his own drink and continued to watch Kenobi, curious as to the Jedi's purpose in having come there at all. From what he could gather, this sort of thing was against their rules--no fraternizing of that nature, at the very least; he guessed that intoxicants were likely also off the list of acceptable things, if their order was anything like most others.

Impossible though it may have been, it was certainly