don't ask my opinion

[requiemshark]

Who: Ephemera and open
What: Anybody feel like a drink?
Where: Speakeasy
When: Evening
Warnings: tbd


Well, this month has been a goddamn experience, that's for sure. Mass hallucinations, reality warping, more weird-ass monsters at the end, and apparently there's a universe where Ephemera not only lets people call him Terrence willingly, but he's also a firefighter.

What. The. Fuck.

There's also a universe where he doesn't have combat implants drilled into his skull or a nightmare's worth of scars rearranging his face, but he's decided not to go there.

Nope, he's drinking instead. That's better than thinking. And he's going outside while not on patrol.

That's downright social of him, it certainly is. Why, he's even left his helmet off, resting it on the bar as he drinks tequila and listens to the music.

Ephemera sucks on his teeth, good eye narrowed. He's hoping someone will start a fight tonight, something to work off some steam, but it doesn't look like the right crowd and he'd have to take his armor off anyway. Thus lacking any decent prospects of a bar fight - armored or otherwise - he's drinking.

Comments

[lifetothefullest]

Lance really does know better than to solve problems by drinking.

Although, to be fair, he's not drinking a lot. He still shouldn't be at all, and he knows it, but as long as he doesn't make it a habit it's fine, right? Besides, he's really tired, and a little alcohol to make it easier to get to sleep won't hurt as long as he doesn't overdo it. Surely.

He wanders into the bar, trying not to draw any attention to himself--the resident psychologist looking somewhat like a zombie and then drinking on top of that wouldn't exactly inspire any confidence--but he's curious at the sight of someone in elaborate armour. Although he looks different Lance still recognizes Ephemera easily enough, and he's soon a little distracted from his original goal of acquiring alcohol by the expression on Ephemera's face.

So he takes a seat nearby at the bar, not right next to him but close enough to talk, and glances over. "Hello. Ephemera, correct?" Not Terrence.

[requiemshark]

Oh hey, it's their resident shrink. Points to him for not coming up on Ephemera's blindside or using a name he hates. Ephemera raises his glass in a lazy salute. Hopefully the scars won't start a thing. The hallucination-world took them away, and that was the only time they'd actually met in person.

"Hey, Doc."

[lifetothefullest]

Lance knows better than most people not to ask about scars; if they come from a story that someone wants to share, they'll usually bring up the topic themselves.

So instead he orders a drink--this time it's something at least drinkable compared to what he'd gotten last time--and takes a sip before speaking again. "it's nice to meet you in person, in actual reality."

As opposed to the fake event reality, and although the sentiment in what Lance says is genuine he's also providing an opening to see if Ephemera wants to talk about the event. It seems to have been a difficult experience in many ways for a lot of people, even if it had been relatively tame in itself.

[requiemshark]

"Yep."

Straight tequila isn't quite as good as the mixed drinks that Drake whips up, but Ephemera isn't picky. He'll drink anything short of prison hooch.

"Kudos to seeing through the mindfuckery, I guess." Ephemera sips his drink. Because that was a thing, yes it was. "Or--whatever it was you picked up on."

[lifetothefullest]

Tequila is horrible, Ephemera. At least go with bourbon or something, which is what whatever this drink that Lance has most closely resembles.

"Thanks, I guess." It's half a joke, because what a weird thing to have even happened and he's not entirely sure he's glad that it did; it had been pretty terrifying, especially at first, though it had gotten less so when he realized he wasn't the only one and then eventually when he remembered Hadriel enough to guess the explanation for it.

"The whole experience was... Strange." Not just the seeing through it part, but the event in general.

[requiemshark]

Lies. Tequila is awesome.

Ephemera shrugs, returning to his drink. "Life is strange. Seen weirder."

Because. Aliens.

"That kinda shit happen a lot here?"

[lifetothefullest]

Tequila is bad decisions made into liquid form.

"Apparently, yes. I haven't seen many events that were so drastic, but there have been several more minor ones since I arrived." And one other really serious one.

[requiemshark]

Psst, that's the whole point.

Ephemera watches Lance for a moment. "Mass hallucination's probably pretty unlikely at this point, huh?"

[lifetothefullest]

Lance watches him in return just briefly before turning his attention to his drink, although he's continuing to pay attention out of the corner of his eye. "Probably, yes. A coma dream remains a possibility, though."

And he might still be quietly hoping for that.

[toiletseat_girl]

George is sitting on her own stool close to his, working on a rum and coke. She notices the stranger sitting nearby and tries to smile. It's closer to a grimace; smiling doesn't come naturally to her. Neither does socialization, to be honest. From the looks of the guy sitting a stool away, she's going to guess that it's not easy for him, too.

"What're you having?" There, she did it. She socialized. Go her.

[requiemshark]

Huh. Ephemera glances at the woman briefly. She's out of armor.

One of these days, that's going to stop seeming weird to him.

"Tequila," he announces. "It's awesome."

[toiletseat_girl]

No, she's in jeans, a tshirt with Bruce Lee's picture on it, and a pair of Converse. She wouldn't know what to do with armor if it was sat in front of her.

One of these days, this place is going to stop seeming weird to her, but today is not that day.

"Never had it. You're drinking it with nothing else in there?"

[requiemshark]

Ephemera considers his glass. "Is it supposed to have anything else in there?"

Most of his drinking experience is the straight out of the bottle variety.

[toiletseat_girl]

George just raises her eyebrows at him with a vaguely incredulous look on her face.

"Uh. Yeah. Most people put at least something else in there, they don't just drink straight booze. It's--I dunno. The more socially cool thing to do? 'Cause that way you don't wind up blind drunk, unless that's your goal?"

[requiemshark]

Okay, now he's the weird one. Ephemera shrugs. "Huh."

He likes it strong, anyway.

"Don't go to bars a lot. Who're you?"

[toiletseat_girl]

No, not him. George is always the weird one. And the socially awkward one. It's a rule.

She's not technically old enough to drink, but her old ID says she is, so she's taking advantage of it.

"I go here a lot. Mostly just people watching. I'm bad at people-interacting. And I'm George, who're you?"

[requiemshark]

People-interacting. Okay. That's a new one. Ephemera eyes her up and down. She hasn't once commented on his face or even stared. Not many people have, in Hadriel. He's not sure what to make of that just yet. "Ephemera. 'sup."

It's the name he's decided to go with for a while.

[braveoff]

Drake heads to the speakeasy tonight because he's got nothing else to do -- he's alone. Liv is at the clinic again and even though he met a lot of people during the whatever it was that mindfucked them all, he'd feel awkward hitting them up now. But he doesn't want to just hide out in his apartment. So after patrol he goes for a drink. Maybe meet some new people as himself. It occurs to him to call Ephemera, but he isn't sure the other man would want to see him right now.

So of course, chance would have it that his friend is already there. In armor, tonight, so maybe not feeling the most social, but Drake takes a seat next to him anyway. Offers an only slightly uncomfortable smile.

"Hey."

[requiemshark]

Oh, it's Drake.

Ephemera turns, raising his glass in a lazy greeting. It's not so different from the fake world. They're still--friends? Probably friends.

"'sup. There's tequila."

[braveoff]

Still friends. And Ephemera's probably the only one he won't be lying to.... anyone else asks about his being a cop, he'll just say this place probably picked it because he's in the guard. But he doesn't want to lie to Ephemera. Which makes him a little more nervous about seeing him again. That, and his alternate universe self was pretty open about certain insecurities Drake wouldn't be.

"Share?" He reaches behind the bar for a glass for himself, thinking back fondly to the last time they got drunk. That was fun.

[requiemshark]

"Yeah, man." It's kinda sad to drink alone. Ephemera finishes off his tequila with a sigh. What a crazy place. "So. I officially didn't see that shit coming. Alternative universe or--hallucination. Whatever."

[braveoff]

"I've heard it happened once before. Tranquility made everybody see this place as some kind of island paradise, they just... didn't mess with people's heads, too." He takes a drink, aiming to catch up with Ephemera. "I guess they're kind of sadistic when they get bored."

It wasn't too bad for either of them, though. "You made a badass firefighter, for what it's worth. Even when you were just saving kittens."

[requiemshark]

"Awesome," Ephemera murmurs. "You know, I was hoping I was done with psychopaths."

God, he's getting old.

He grins a little, laughing.

"Hey, that kitten clawed the shit out of me. And you were a cop."

Which is a little weird, all things considered. Ephemera considers Drake for a moment.

"How'd that work?"

[braveoff]

"I was... and that's probably because... I am." He keeps his voice low. "I've gotta keep my cover, even here. So if anybody else asks, it's just because I'm in the guard, okay?"

He hesitates, pours himself another drink.

"I didn't lie to you. I'm a bouncer as my cover persona. To get in as an enforcer."

[requiemshark]

Ephemera eyes Drake up and down. Careful, but not tense. "You lie about being in prison?"