Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-01-16 11:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, hippolyta flynn |
Who: Ari & Flynn
What: Flynn has a big mouth
Where: A bar!
When: Last night
Rating: PG-13 for Flynn
Status: Complete!
“I don’t get how you can drink that virgin shit,” one particularly animated redhead declared across the table from Ari, her class of White Kerwonian slamming into the table without any grace or consideration for those sitting around them. While waiting for her friend, Flynn had already impatiently downed one alcoholic drink, and it was showing. She licked her lips. “I mean, I know why, but there’s no fucking point to it.” “Even now,” Ari said, taking a sip of her (sadly nonalcoholic) cocktail, “I have the irrational fear that if I drink, my former mentor will find me.” She shuddered. “If I never undergo one of his punishments again, it’ll be too soon. Wine seems a small price to pay.” With a sigh, she added, “All right, not small --” this with a longing look towards Flynn’s glass -- “but acceptable.” She hadn’t wanted to turn down the invitation to drinks after rehearsal, and fortunately Flynn, like anyone who had known Ari awhile, was well aware of her eccentricities. The company and ambiance would make up for the lack of alcohol in her glass. She looked over her friend -- who for the most part seemed less harried than she had been just a month prior. “Have people gotten tired of hailing you in the street and asking you to kiss their babies?” she asked with some amusement. Flynn’s snort was most un-ladylike. “I still get it from mothers. People still bother my mom about it, though, but she always eats it up. Like she’s proud of me or some dumb shit like that.” She stared down into her drink. Her relationship with her mother had always been— well, strained. Half of the time, she wondered if her mother hated her for being such a nuisance, especially since she’d been a troublesome child and wayward teenager, but she’d since calmed down, and their relationship had mended somewhat. So Dahlia Flynn could afford to be proud of her daughter, for as seldom such an opportunity presented itself. “Don’t tell anyone,” she muttered into the rim of her glass, “but I’m about ready to punt the babies across the road instead.” Which she would never do, really, but the thought had occurred to her more than once. “It’ll die down,” Ari said, as soothingly as possible, “People have new things to gossip about now. And think of it this way -- at least she’s happy, if for bewildering reason. My mother is never happy.” It had been one of the points that had brought them closer, once upon a time and long ago. The difference, Ari thought, seemed to be that Flynn cared (she had given up long ago). The image of punting a hume child across the road had her smothering a giggle with her hand. “So violent,” she chided. “And hilarious, granted, but mostly violent.” As she sipped at her drink, the mage shrugged, eventually setting the glass down. “Councilor Matsudaira would have a fucking field day with me if I even tried. He’s so zen,” she grumbled, leaning back into the seat. “I’ve been trying out meditation to understand Three-Face better, but you would be very fucking surprised to learn how hard it is. Books on it are so useless. I’d be better off talking to her,” she sighed. “I think I’m lucky that my guild councilors mostly find me amusing and inconsequential,” Ari said with a shake of her head. With Alecta gone (and thank Faram for that mercy), she could count on Lea and Mathieu to more or less leave her to her own devices. “I’ve seen the books, incidentally -- it’s on my request that Merri dug them up in the first place, even if I didn’t tell him why. And you’re right, they’re useless, but at least they remind you you’re not going mad.” She shrugged, admitting, “I thought I might be, for a little while there, so I’ll say that much for the literature on the subject, anyway.” Shifting in place, Flynn scratched at her nose. “You probably told me about this before,” she began, tone changing into something more serious, which was an improvement for her, “but I’ve got goldfish memory, so uh. Remember when you said he was acting up when the Mages’ Tower was being attacked? Is that a normal thing? ‘cause Three-Face was doing the same thing.” Surely the girl across from her would know which he she referred to. Ari thought a moment before answering, her voice low. “I wouldn’t call it normal. It’s only happened once prior. Do you remember that night the Tenements got wrecked? I was out there -- idiotic, I know, I know -- and he did the same thing then. He won’t say a word about it if I ask, but…” she shrugged. “Whatever that was, it was something… else. He was fine when we went to the cave, so whatever that thing was wasn’t… the same, I suppose.” And despite her tendency not to worry, she couldn’t help wondering what it had been, based on Ifrit’s terse nonanswers (when he didn’t just growl at her to keep her mortal nose out of things she couldn’t possibly fathom). There came another snort in response as Flynn pulled her drink closer. “We should consider ourselves fucking lucky we can at least talk to them sometimes. Even if Three-Face talks in three voices at the same time, which somehow is less creepy as shit now. Can’t say the same for other people, who’ve got monster birds clucking at them,” she finished, finally picking up the glass to sip from it. Oh, Nate. That poor bastard. Immediately, Ari’s brows knitted and she leaned forward. “I’m sorry,” she said, “What?” That certainly didn’t sound like Aspel (who wouldn’t talk to Flynn about this in any case, she suspected), or René (who seemed to have his own… unique problems). Her redheaded companion didn’t seem as fussed with the topic, or didn’t realize how she was breaking summoner to summoner confidentiality, as she waved a hand. “Just some kid I met a while back. His name’s Nate, and a giant chocobo clucks at him inside his head. That shit must be so one-sided.” “A giant… chocobo.” If Ari was looking at Flynn as though her friend had lost her mind, could someone really blame her? Though that name… “Wait,” she said, suddenly thinking of her extremely odd encounter with a certain machinist at unholy o’clock at night (and the really unfortunate hat -- not to mention everything else). “Not Nate the machinist? That Nate?” Suddenly, Flynn straightened, at last registering she’d done something wrong. Loose lips had her blurting out a “Shit, you know him?” faster than her brain could process, and then she was throwing herself back into the seat, shamefully toying with a piece of her hair. Fuck. So much for keeping his secret. “I didn’t say anything,” she muttered, already knowing the damage was done. “Yes, you did,” Ari said. “You can’t just say that now.” And Flynn likely knew Ari would pester her endlessly until she had all the answers she wanted. “Since when does Nate have… is it really a giant chocobo?” From incredulity came amusement; she was smiling as she shook her head. “And you thought you were unfortunate; what’s he supposed to do, ride it into battle?” “Woah, hey.” A finger was pointed at her. “Mine still has three faces and four fucking arms, okay? Maybe he can’t talk to a chocobo, but mine is freaky shit.” The redhead tried to sink lower into her chair, an attempt that should have been more successful considering how much she’d had to drink. “It’s apparently really big, so unless he’s got a step ladder, I don’t think riding it into battle’s an option.” She scrunched up her nose. “You’re gonna bug him about this, aren’t you? Me and my big fucking mouth.” Ari gave Flynn a look, the kind that very clearly said, really? “Of course I’m going to bug him about this,” she said. “He owes me a new amp. The last time I saw him, he was shuffling around like a zombie, squinting at the moonlight like it burned his eyes. I thought he was on something, so I left him alone, figuring anything he made was as likely to blow up on me as not, considering his condition.” On the other side of the table, Flynn made a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “You mean that’s not how he normally is? Ajora’s tits, man. He’s weird, but he seems like a good kid, so—” She jabbed a ‘menacing’ finger in Ari’s direction. “Be gentle, kid’s got a giant chocobo hanging out in his head.” “Please darling.” With an entertained smile, Ari pointed out, “I’m always gentle, unless specifically asked not to be, don’t you know?” And that joke would be the end of that. “Never mind,” she said, “I promise not to scare him away into hiding forever in the Outlands.” Probably. “I’ll be sweet as sugar.” Rather like the drink she was finishing, really. “So,” she joked, “now that I’ve got you spilling confidences in your cups, anything else you’d like to tell me?” “Nope,” Flynn shot back a little too quickly, moving fast for her glass and guzzling it down with impressive speed. Ari laughed. “If you say so. I suppose I owe you something, at least -- how about an embarrassing story?” Leaning her elbow on the table, she continued: “I don’t think I told you yet, but at New Year’s, Aud and I accidentally destroyed a mutual friend’s house…” |