exsiliumlogs | It seemed like a good idea at the time...

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It seemed like a good idea at the time...

Date & Time: 2698, fin-de-millenium, just prior to the formation of the United Earth
Location: Las Vegas
Characters: Break, Kevin, Gilbert, Oz, Elliot, Alice, Allen, Lenalee, Rosette, Chrono, Chrysos
Summary: Fear and loathing
Warnings: Showgirls and Gilbert weeping.

The statement “Let’s go to Vegas” exists as the multiverse’s quintessential definition of, “well it seemed like a good idea at the time.” Even in this case, it really had, between zombies, insurrection, and the day to day tedium of life on the moon. Besides which, Xerxes Break has a new sentient (sentient-er) weapon, which in a stunning show of good judgement is too dangerous to test on the moonbase, nor in any concentration of people. Las Vegas, set against the backdrop of the vast, desolate Mojave desert, seemed to be a perfect choice.

When our heroes wink into existence, squinting against the early-morning desert sunshine, they’ll find themselves duly welcomed. Come play in the casino. When you feel a bit peckish, indulge in all you can eat. Take your winnings and go shopping; at night, take in a show. And if you’ve done really well gambling, unwind in a ridiculously luxurious suite.

…or is this how you’re spending the night?

Thirty-six hours in Vegas, what could possibly go wrong?

(ooc: feel free to start threads willy-nilly, name your time and place, threadjack and mingle)

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Maybe yours aren't...

[ Muttered under his breath as he drops his hands, because he knows Rosette Christopher and she is evil. He lets that go in lieu of frowning at the pile on the bed. ]

You weren't looking for them all day, were you? Did you at least have any fun?

[Forgive her the rudeness, Chrono, but she isn't going to right herself again this time because she's too tired to.]

All day...

That's no good. [ He says, having done the exact same thing. ] You should try to do something enjoyable tomorrow. ... And get some sleep, by the looks of it.

[ Chrono eyes the precariously open-topped box of chocolates as Lenalee burrows—realizes she probably isn't moving any time soon—and crosses the room to take the box in hand, before it can upend itself all over the floor.

Freezes when the smell of the chocolates hits his nose. ]

... Oh... [ oh god ] Lenalee-

[She tips her face

(after a second)

and looks at him in a mix of contrition and... resignation? Her state is not beyond her. Far from it.]

They're alcoholic. [ she did not go into it knowing this ]

[ Reflected back at her is the deepest, most profound kind of sympathy a demon can muster. ]

Ah... [ He replaces the lid pointedly, adding this to his mental list of things-he-has-to-worry-about-at-any-given-time. Alcoholic candy. Spectacular. ] Who would invent such a thing...?

[Masochists, she might say, were she the sort to know that word.]

I've used alcohol in cooking before, [ and Kanda got her drunk that one time, but we don't talk about that ] but...

[ Chrono sets the box down somewhere that is (hopefully) both out of sight and out of mind, and resigns himself to inspecting every piece of candy ever presented to him henceforth. ]

Just... wait there.

[ NOT THAT SHE'S GOING ANYWHERE but. He heads into the ridiculously luxurious suite's ridiculously luxurious kitchen and busies himself for a minute or two; by now, he's familiar enough with hangovers and dehydration to at least know the basic procedures.

He returns with a tall glass of water in hand, and hopes she hasn't fallen asleep in the interim. ]

Here. Drink this.

[She had been slumped over herself as he reentered, but straightens as though startled out of a daze the instant he speaks, mussed hair and rumpled nightshirt and bleary eyes. The embarrassed blush is graciously difficult to pinpoint, Lenalee puts a hand to her head and glances his direction.

Ish.]

Who is it?

Edited (acutally) 2013-12-19 00:54 (UTC)

[ ........... r e a l l y

He sidesteps into her line of sight, proffering the glass. ]

I'm the water fairy.

I come to protect fair maidens from dehydration-induced hangovers.

[ s...

stares, it's not very encouraging for a long moment, until she abruptly reaches for the drink ]

Thank you.

You're welcome.

[ Victories are scarce enough that he'll accept them in even the smallest of forms. ]

You should drink all of that, and another one, if you can manage it. It'll make the headache less bad.

Headache...

[Ah, yes. Just familiar enough a concept to her to bring a twinge of homesickness with it. The last pleasant twinge of the evening, she's sure.

Downs it.]

[ He nods approvingly. Drunk Lenalee is much more agreeable than drunk Rosette. ]

I'm sure it'll be fine... it was just a few chocolates, right?

[Lowers the emptied glass to her lap, exhales. Ooh. Ah.]

Thirty.

Thirty.

[ LENALEE HOW ]

Did you eat anything else tonight?! Meat? Protein?

A sandwich, earlier.

[ can hear Matron coming for her already ]

[ How much earlier is earlier

How big was the sandwich

Are you feeling nauseous at all

ALL EXCELLENT QUESTIONS that he does not ask, in favor of plucking the glass from her hands. ]

I'll just- get you a refill, okay?

[At the same time, a slow roiling exhaustion, she's fed up with this entire mission and candied betrayal, and most of all Lenalee is fed up with not being in control.

She makes a huffy noise.

Danger, Will Robinson. Danger.]

I'm- fine.

I never said you weren't.

[ This said over his shoulder as he beats another retreat to the kitchen.

When he returns this time, he's wise enough to do the diplomatic thing — puts the glass on the bedside table rather than handing it to her directly. (Hasn't forgotten that she's actually really scary and dangerous) ]

[She casts it a doleful look, as though this second glass were an utter impingement. The reluctant inertia she had earlier succumbed to has drawn back some, leaving her irritated by all but the tiny child doing his best to mother her.

She'd never really had the chance to experience it, before.]

They'd better hurry up...

I'm sure they're fine.

[ His eyes drift from his impromptu charge to the sliver of Vegas skyline visible through the gap in the drapes. It's true that he's worried, but for all of his fretting, he believes his own words. He certainly wouldn't be sitting here, otherwise. ]

They'll just owe an apology or two for making us stay up late worrying.

[Lenalee continues to stare down the water. Very soon, it shall become the one path left open to her; she hopes to hurry it along.]

Mm. They'll feel it in the morning.

[ Airily, ] And then we can ask them to recount all the fun they've had.

[ Chrono leaves her to her staring match as he crosses the room and claims a perch a respectable distance away, on one of the antique upholstered chairs. Cross-legged, chin in palm, and his eyes flicker between the window and the door as often as they do his rumpled companion. He can only hope Lenalee will shoo him away when he's overstayed his welcome.

He just doesn't do so well with quiet, empty rooms, of late. ]

Or find out how much trouble they're in, depending.

[ Because Rosette Christopher can't bluff her way out of a poker game. He knows this. ]

They shan't know trouble until they bring it home with them.

[Then she'll show them trouble. Honestly! They're on a mission, not... not holidays! She longs for another chocolate, and reaches for the water instead.]

D-D'you have a place to stay the night?

Rosette and I have a room. [ He points to one of the far walls, perhaps meaning to indicate 'somewhere vaguely down the hall' ] A few doors down.

[ He might have left it there any other day (or perhaps taken that as his cue to retreat), for fear of giving too much away. But he can only assume that the very inebriated won't go looking for shadows in people's smalltalk expressions. ]

I thought I'd stay until they get back, but I can leave, if you'd rather rest.

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anklets - 2013-12-27 01:49 (UTC) - Expand

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