(Untitled)

[i_love_squats]

Who: Zack Fair i_love_squats and Heine Rammsteiner stray_gunner, Open
When: Today
Where: Foxhole
Format: Paragraph
What: Zack’s drinking and confused, while Heine’s pointing and laughing. Yeaaaah. Something.
Warnings: Probably not, but it all depends on how much Zack is allowed to drink.

Comments

[stray_gunner]

It wasn't the first time he'd woken up with no recollection of how he'd gotten there. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up with blood on the floor either.

It was, however, the first time he'd opened his eyes and saw a poster of a shirtless man on the wall.

You could say that the ensuing gunfire was a defensive reflex.

Heine sighed and scuffed the heel of his boot on the ground, flaking off more dried blood. There was definitely something wrong when the sight of copious amounts of leftover gore didn't bother him, he decided, staring down at the mess.

D'you think it's yours? The dog's question was rhetorical - they both knew that it could be no one else's. Heine sniffed(not to smell it or to check the scent - he hoped) and left, walking through Dismas with very little incident and reaching the Foxhole in less than half an hour

[stray_gunner]

Fixing Zack with a long stare, Heine finally shrugged and answered. "On who got killed. And besides, they'd just come back to life." Thoughtfulness quota filled for the day (week, even), he turned back to his beer.

Maybe, if Zack actually remembers what happened... Heine wasn't going to bet on that.

"People. Things." Master of clarity, he was not.

Heine watched Zack down most of his beer. He couldn't remember when he was supposed to stop him - was it after five drinks, or eight? ...well, Zack could handle himself. He hoped.

"Why are you asking?" he shot back, frowning slightly.

[i_love_squats]

"You can't just rely on folks to come back!" he shot back, shaking his mostly-empty glass at the other. Because sometimes they didn't. And sometimes, they came back different. And sometimes, sometimes, this world just plays tricks and games.

The day they started relying on Anatole to make sense was the day it wouldn't out of sheer spite.

"'Sides, all life is important. Equal. No one 'serves to die."

And there, he didn't even know he was slurring. Eight beers would probably be the optimum limit; after all, a guy with his size, his strength, his mako could easily handle eight, if one didn't think of the hangover the next day. Someone was going to have to tiptoe through the house tomorrow.

"Ever think of givin' a straight answer?" he said with a smirk, raising his hand for the next drink on deck. "And can't a friend have phili--deep conversations with another friend? Shiva."

[stray_gunner]

"Calm down," he said lazily, running a finger along the rim of his glass as he leaned back again. It wasn't easy to follow this line of conversation without reacting more than he had been. He didn't want Zack to know - to be honest, he didn't want anyone to know what he was thinking about right now.

Thinking about her again? You're a lost child without Mother, you pathetic little miser, and then it went back to snarling in the corner when he ignored it. Time out, he mused, and almost smirked.

"...yeah, you keep thinking that," Heine muttered, rubbing his forehead.

He noted the increasing incoherency and glanced at the new beer on the counter. Maybe it would be a good idea to stop him now. Maybe.

"Yes, but then I decided it was stupid," he replied easily. "Tch." And there - a slight flicker of something (a memory?) at that word, friend. He frowned.

[i_love_squats]

The calm down had it's desired effect; Zack fell back into his chair, looking a little deflated, a little chastised. Damn, but didn't Heine see? Didn't he know? Could he really be that disconnected?

Of course he could, and the thought made Zack pout. Normally, he could have kept the pout hidden, locked behind some mask, or back behind the raised glass filled with amber. What a shame it was that he wasn't exactly "normal" right now.

"It's an important subject," he muttered. "Most important one."

His eyes narrowed sullenly, the newest empty glass pushed away down the table, traded quickly for another. "I will," he snarked, the limit of his wit spent and drowned in beer. "And you can't stop me."

See? He told him. It was all about standing ground, and Zack was fully planted, ready to go. It was going to take more than Heine to change his mind. Heine and his... his... Heine attitude. Yeah.

"They're good...for the people you're talking to," he said (slurred), and took another swallow. "You're lucky it'll take more than... than your

[stray_gunner]

Heine smirked a little more widely at Zack's reaction. He was... easier to deal with, maybe, in this state. If you thought 'easier to deal with' meant easier to keep from asking questions, that was. Heine certainly did.

"Whatever you say," Heine agreed easily, sliding his empty glass across the counter and ordering another one, seeing as if he wanted Zack to keep drinking (which he did), he should probably at least keep up with him. Not that it would make any difference in the long run, but...

"'Grr-ness,'" he repeated with a grunt. "You're starting to get disoriented, aren't you?" Heine asked curiously. He wasn't sure, having no experience to draw on. He was mostly certain that when someone was unconscious, then he should probably stop them, but otherwise... he was pretty lost.

[i_love_squats]

Heine was laughing at him. Well, maybe not laughinglaughing (because he was fairly certain that Heine didn't know how to laugh), but he was making fun of him. Taking amusement from him. Finding him... funny. Well, Zack thought he was a cut-up on the best of days, but he was fairly certain this was more of the "taking the piss outta him" variety of laughing.

He didn't know why. He was perfectly fine, just a little hot (Aren't I always, ladies?). Maybe flushed. But how was that funny?

"Glad to see you're coming to your senses and agreein' with me." He smiled, a little more sure of himself, before working on his beer again. He was hungry, but he wasn't sure how many ivories he had on him. And he had to piss. Hell. Bathroom was far.

"Dis-orie--" The scowl (pout) was back. "Are you askin' me if I'm drunk? 'Cause I'm not." Or, at least, he thought he wasn't, which could be fairly dangerous if he didn't have someone next to him that he could (kinda) trust. And hey, Heine was drinking, so that's a good sign. Means they were on even ground

[stray_gunner]

He's getting sloppy. Get him now - you know why he feels so strange now, you know --

But he didn't. Heine couldn't remember why he might feel so uneasy, or why he had woken up in that room in Dismas with blood on the walls and viscera on the floor. Quality interior decoration, the dog had called it.

He rubbed his neck a little at the memory, and shrugged. "I wouldn't know," he muttered. "I don't usually deal with people who get drunk."

Mostly because they were afraid enough to realize that getting intoxicated around him was a very bad idea. He wondered vaguely why Zack, of all people, was doing this.

"Something I've never told anyone before?" Heine stared at him for a while, and then shrugged. It wouldn't hurt much, he supposed - Zack was definitely drunk now, he decided, and hopefully he wouldn't remember by morning.

He finally smirked and leaned on the table, toying with his empty glass. "I've never gotten sloshed before."

[i_love_squats]

Bad idea? Around Heine? Zack didn't have to think on the answer, if he would've been asked: he trusted Heine. Stupid, maybe, but he did. He liked the guy, found him fun, if not a bit sullen, sarcastic. In some ways, he reminded him of folks in SOLDIER, short and to the point. Even this was reminiscent of old drinking parties after a successful mission.

Though, something...something was wrong. He wasn't sure what, but it was...wrong. Heine wasn't...something.

"This...this isn't the norm, you know. Not for me." His fingers errantly flicked at the glass, his brow furrowing, eyes distant. Thinking, he was thinking, trying not to sit and dwell on Yazoo when he was finally, finally getting numb. "I just...everyone needs to unwind sometimes

[stray_gunner]

"I think I figured that bit out already," Heine said agreeably. Well, relatively agreeably, considering that it was Heine. It was odd - in a way - to see Zack like this. Slurring his words, being uncertain, frowning like that. Then again, maybe it was just because he hadn't interacted with many people who had been drinking before. He'd seen them and ignored them, though, because... that was what he did.

You ignore everything and miss everything and then Giovanni comes, and you get shot and you need my help and you're a pathetic loser, losing dog, it spat, and Heine shook his head a little to clear it

[i_love_squats]

Was it so obvious that this wasn't the norm? Did it make him look like a light-weight for it (regardless that he was on his sixth beer by now)? Would he ever hear the end of it?

Probably not. This was prime ribbing material, right here. Back home, SOLDIER cadets would've paid good money to see this.

"Well, at least I've been drunk before," he mumbled, as if it was some terrible, looming defeat by life. After all, Heine wasn't a spring chicken (not with white hair), so it must be one of The Great Tragedies. Which also meant, less talky, more imbibing.

"Drink responsibilit--responsibly if you're driving. Since Minato's back home, I'm thinking we're walkin'. Means we're safe." Mmhm. Do not operate a chocobo while under the influence. Big fines back home

[stray_gunner]

"Congratulations, would you like a prize?" Heine rolled his eyes, crossing his legs as he leaned back. "What's a Minato - oh, that huge bird-thing. Right."

He glanced at the shots of alcohol already lined up and sighed. Zack looked and sounded excited about the prospect, and even though he wasn't sure if that was a good thing, he decided that it was a better idea than actually trying to bring Zack elsewhere.

The man already looked a bit out of it, Heine thought, smirking slightly. But that didn't mean he would stop because of it.

"Yeah? How do you play that?"

Heine Rammsteiner, social recluse since birth. Creation. Both were the same thing, anyway, when it came to him.

"Are you really okay with drinking more?" he asked, somewhat skeptically.

[i_love_squats]

How do you-How do you play I Never?! Zack blinked incredulously, his eyes wide, his mouth comically open. Oh, Heine, how you never cease to amaze him, especially tonight with all these new and horrifying revalations. First not ever getting drunk, and now this? If you wanted Zack to mourn your lack of a social life, he is. He is.

“Dude, you live under a rock!” His eyes rolled dramatically. If he had been thinking properly, he might have realized that I Never with Heine was going to be difficult; people with no lives didn’t do well at games where they were supposed to have one to play. But, alas, the beer had long since taken its toll, and those little tidbits didn’t matter anymore.

“’S easy. We take turns saying ‘I never did somethingsomething’, and if the other guy did it, they have to drink. See?” He sure as hell hope that it made sense to him, because Zack wasn’t sure he could explain it any other way in his current state.

“And suuuure. You can’t be done already, can you? Cause I can out drink you any dayAnd thus, the challenge

[stray_gunner]

Heine bit back a snicker at his companion's bewildered expression. He couldn't help it if he wasn't big on social interactions, and thus apparently had never had a chance to play... whatever this was. Well, he could help it, but he just didn't.

"Do not," he protested half-heartedly. No, you just live underground, the dog corrected, but Heine shrugged it off for the moment.

Raising an eyebrow at Zack's slurred description of the game, Heine considered his prospects for a moment and then shrugged. Why not?

It wasn't as if he could actually get drunk. Unlike Zack, who already looked a bit woozy.

"...right. Let's play, then."

[i_love_squats]

"Do too." And do you really wanna argue with a drunk Zack Fair, Heine? Do you, really? Because he can go all day at this, with a "Do Not" and "Do Too" game, and he won't give up. At least, not until something more interesting is dropped in his lap.

But, fortunate for you that at this point, all things are interesting.

But hey, Heine agreed to I Never, and wasn't that more interesting? Far more interesting? He couldn't help but smirk, even as he tapped his fingers at the bar.Well, at least he knew one that Heine would have to drink off of.

"I never threatened to hurt myself." And after that, it was kinda a guessing game. But hey, at least he had one.

[stray_gunner]

"Whatever," he grumbled, choosing to forgo further debate in favor of rolling his eyes.

"That was a cheap shot," he complained, but picked up one of the glasses all the same. With the slightest hesitation, he downed the alcohol and sighed.

After a moment's consideration, he said slowly, "I never rode a chocobo?"

Well, that was a pretty cheap shot too, but an eye for an eye. Or in the dog's case, a life for the slightest injury.