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towerofanimus2013-04-22 09:01 am
springserpent) wrote in towerofanimus2013-04-22 09:01 am
Entry tags:
[006] Ladies Night
Characters: Mihli Aliapoh, Amelia, Naoto Shirogane and YOU for prompt one. It's a mingle thread, so party hard. Two is a closed scenario. Sorry fellas.
Setting: A severely depressed and existentially challenged Mihli Aliapoh gets paid a visit from some rather unlikely friends as she attempts to get absolutely hammered on floor 88 -- feel free to come drink! Some unspecified amount of time later, she runs into a stubborn, adorable girl with pigtails in the cathedral.
Format: Aaaaction~!
Summary: Wow, being brainwashed and skinned alive sure has a way of dampening a girl's spirits! Obviously it's time to get smashed and console each other. Who brought the peanuts?
Warnings: Language, angst, drunken antics, perhaps some graphic descriptions later, who knows.
[Good ole' whiskey. Or at least that's what she thought it was. It's not often that Mihli drinks, in fact, she can count on hand the number of times she's done it, and usually it'd been only to make a point; Maybe to demoralize some hot-shot merc, or to prove that she can hold her liquor better than some of her fellow soldiers despite her less-than-mountainous stature. Hell, there was this one time where she and General Zazarg sang and drank until the walls came dow--
....
Ok, rewind. Now that she's thinking more clearly about it, the reason the walls came down was because they were attacked, and maybe she can't exactly count the times she's drank on one hand. But maybe, just maybe two is sitting a little closer to the mark! The fact of the matter is, she swears this isn't a habit - it's a social hobby despite her amazing capacity for the stuff and near invulnerability in regards to actually getting drunk, but damn if it doesn't feel great to cut loose with an entire bottle right now.
She's rather fortunate to have even found any spirits around this dusty (smoky..?) old place - most of the bottles behind the counter were either too suspicious or most obviously NOT alcohol in the first place (here's lookin' at you, tomato juice.) so finding not just one, but three separate bottles of the stuff is a little more than just lucky. Which is exactly why she's taken to indulging herself on an entire bottle, leaning heavily over the counter, but still very much in control of her own thoughts - if a bit tipsy.]
[How cliche that she'd find herself on this floor above any other? But it'll do, especially now that she's tired as hell. Ever since being returned, Mihli made it her mission to keep away from any and everyone in this godforsaken place, spending most of her time sleeping on the forest floor, and even the maze when that'd become a chore, but never even close to the dorms. Being in proximity with other people didn't feel right after what'd been done, but more than that? She just couldn't deal with the fact that she was wrong. Plain and simple.
Arturia told her so. To steel herself and prepare for anything that the Administrators could've thrown at her, but maybe she'd grown so accustomed to the way things had been back home, or the fact that she had others to depend on. Wasn't as bad as being alone, but here the hope she'd grown to rely on was nowhere in sight, nor the people she was supposed to protect.
"Vana'diel's dead already, right?" There was no evidence to the contrary, and people who've been here for far longer have already accepted the fact that everything they knew and loved is gone. In a blink of an eye - no, even worse - in her SLEEP she'd lost everything. Every friend, every enemy, every man, woman and child she could've ever met, gone in an instance. So why the hell was she the one spared? It's infuriating, but more than that, after being toyed with so effortlessly and forced to kill and maim innocent people AGAIN, she feels dirty, used. They cut open her mind, revealed everything she was and anything she could've ever been and warped it.
But that's not even the kicker. The best thing is the fact that to this day she still has no absolute proof that her memories are even real. How else could they have mutilated her body, then returned it to its former state? She's read the Network - who hasn't? We aren't real. These bodies are fake. So how long has it been since she's actually been in this Tower? When do the true memories end, and when do the fabrications begin? Was she merely asleep? Crowded in some basement with the others until it was her time to dance on strings? It's ... tiring, to say the least, and attempting to decipher anything else in this mess is useless in and of itself when all she can do at this point is wait for the next nightmare to begin.]
Setting: A severely depressed and existentially challenged Mihli Aliapoh gets paid a visit from some rather unlikely friends as she attempts to get absolutely hammered on floor 88 -- feel free to come drink! Some unspecified amount of time later, she runs into a stubborn, adorable girl with pigtails in the cathedral.
Format: Aaaaction~!
Summary: Wow, being brainwashed and skinned alive sure has a way of dampening a girl's spirits! Obviously it's time to get smashed and console each other. Who brought the peanuts?
Warnings: Language, angst, drunken antics, perhaps some graphic descriptions later, who knows.
[Good ole' whiskey. Or at least that's what she thought it was. It's not often that Mihli drinks, in fact, she can count on hand the number of times she's done it, and usually it'd been only to make a point; Maybe to demoralize some hot-shot merc, or to prove that she can hold her liquor better than some of her fellow soldiers despite her less-than-mountainous stature. Hell, there was this one time where she and General Zazarg sang and drank until the walls came dow--
....
Ok, rewind. Now that she's thinking more clearly about it, the reason the walls came down was because they were attacked, and maybe she can't exactly count the times she's drank on one hand. But maybe, just maybe two is sitting a little closer to the mark! The fact of the matter is, she swears this isn't a habit - it's a social hobby despite her amazing capacity for the stuff and near invulnerability in regards to actually getting drunk, but damn if it doesn't feel great to cut loose with an entire bottle right now.
She's rather fortunate to have even found any spirits around this dusty (smoky..?) old place - most of the bottles behind the counter were either too suspicious or most obviously NOT alcohol in the first place (here's lookin' at you, tomato juice.) so finding not just one, but three separate bottles of the stuff is a little more than just lucky. Which is exactly why she's taken to indulging herself on an entire bottle, leaning heavily over the counter, but still very much in control of her own thoughts - if a bit tipsy.]
[How cliche that she'd find herself on this floor above any other? But it'll do, especially now that she's tired as hell. Ever since being returned, Mihli made it her mission to keep away from any and everyone in this godforsaken place, spending most of her time sleeping on the forest floor, and even the maze when that'd become a chore, but never even close to the dorms. Being in proximity with other people didn't feel right after what'd been done, but more than that? She just couldn't deal with the fact that she was wrong. Plain and simple.
Arturia told her so. To steel herself and prepare for anything that the Administrators could've thrown at her, but maybe she'd grown so accustomed to the way things had been back home, or the fact that she had others to depend on. Wasn't as bad as being alone, but here the hope she'd grown to rely on was nowhere in sight, nor the people she was supposed to protect.
"Vana'diel's dead already, right?" There was no evidence to the contrary, and people who've been here for far longer have already accepted the fact that everything they knew and loved is gone. In a blink of an eye - no, even worse - in her SLEEP she'd lost everything. Every friend, every enemy, every man, woman and child she could've ever met, gone in an instance. So why the hell was she the one spared? It's infuriating, but more than that, after being toyed with so effortlessly and forced to kill and maim innocent people AGAIN, she feels dirty, used. They cut open her mind, revealed everything she was and anything she could've ever been and warped it.
But that's not even the kicker. The best thing is the fact that to this day she still has no absolute proof that her memories are even real. How else could they have mutilated her body, then returned it to its former state? She's read the Network - who hasn't? We aren't real. These bodies are fake. So how long has it been since she's actually been in this Tower? When do the true memories end, and when do the fabrications begin? Was she merely asleep? Crowded in some basement with the others until it was her time to dance on strings? It's ... tiring, to say the least, and attempting to decipher anything else in this mess is useless in and of itself when all she can do at this point is wait for the next nightmare to begin.]
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There you go with that weirrrrd name again
[He can probably tell that she's not too inclined to look him dead in the eye for too long.]
Kids don't belong on this floor you know.
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[...There's no doubt of the fact that the elder female is drowning her sorrows away. Related to this month, maybe-? But in any case, just seeing her like this is already bad enough.]
But I don't think drinking solves anything either.
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[She knows that much.]
But it surre as hell takes away some of the sting.
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[It doesn't. He knew that much, even if you remember or not, the fact that the feeling still persisted still meant something, at least that's how it was to him.]
What if it returned after you're done with it?
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[Yeah, not feeling any less shitty admitting that to this kid of all people. Why couldn't it have been a newbie? Or some face she wasn't familiar with? This is just salt in the wound.]
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[...Awkward air looming around him, he did mention to himself he'd help her though, considering she helped him once already, and well-]
If you need any help, feel free to ask me, though.
[It's just painful seeing his friends like this.]
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...Yeah. I'll rememberrr that. Thank you.
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[There's a cheerful note on his voice, though it's easily known that the cheer was halfway faked to make it seem that they just had a normal conversation and that both of them are alright.
Even though the gesture went unseen, Naegi gave a smile to her back despite that, before turning to leave.
...Ah, he had to be strong, so... smiling for others' sake is alright, right?]
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[Before he leaves, she at least has to ask.]
Makoto? Last week... Arrre you alright?
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...Maybe.
[Ah, it's because his body shuddered when the question was asked.]
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...
[At first, she thought it may have been the spirits disagreeing with her, but no, it'd be foolish to mistake such guilt and anger for that, or to push the kid away just because of what's happened. It sounds like he's had a rough time all his own.]
Mmh. You came up here to play, didn't you? C'mon. Let's go a rrround.
[She cocks her head back in gesture towards the table.]
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[Turning back to the woman, he felt a bit awkward getting that sudden offer. But it's a welcome gesture all the same.]
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[She smiles, leaving the bottle as she makes her way over to the table to toss one of the cues Makoto's way. Heads up.]
Beats walking all the way up here for nothing, yeah? Let's do this.
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I-if you say so.
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Funny how some constants remain between worlds... I'm more of a mind for Chess, but I've drrank enough to hold my own in a game or two of Pool. What about you, Makoto? Are you a shark, or a shrrrimp?
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[...so...]
I guess a shrimp would work?
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... I'm talking about Pool.
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[there's a nervous laughter as he said that considering this sure just got even more awkward than it already was.]
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A "pool shark" is just what it sounds like. You're a natural at the game, aggrrressive, confident, and if you're fun you play for money.
[Mihli leans over the table, resting the cue over a shoulder. She eyes Makoto carefully, looking him over for something...]
So whaddya say? Got any cash? Valuables? We'll sweeten the pot and play for keeps. Sound fun?
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[Going to hold out a kitty hairpin, after reaching into his hoodie to grab that.]
Would that be fine?
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she'll never admit itAnd while Makoto's certainly not a bastion of muscles and manliness, she wouldn't have imagined him to be carrying it around]You'd really rrrisk losing something this valuable?
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[but he hasn't found the right person to give it to, so might as well, right?]
Way late on this one, apologies :<
[Something for home? That's not something you'd wanna give up on, but hell if that's not hypocritical of her right now... Still.]
Well then I guess I'd better even out the pot.
[Mihli hefts that massive, curved club of hers up onto the table, weight rested against its hilt as she speaks]
This thing's splattered many-a-heads, all of them ugly. It was made from the trees of my homeland. Hell, even the metal's from Tsahya.
[She begins to fondly run a thumb against the flat of the weapon]
It's supposed to be a symbol of my people. In so many fancy words, the Empress told me that it's supposed to remind me of who I'm fighting for. Will this do?
it's alright, really!
[compared to his kitty hairpin, which can probably be replaced, to bet this kind of thing would be...!]
no subject
[Mihli glances off boredly, fingers tapping rhythmically on the pool table as she continues.]
Even if you could get that pin replaced, at the end of the day it wouldn't have the same meaning as the one you lost, would it? In a way, your meaning to give that hairrrpin to some girl back home is the same as holding onto the belief that you'll get out of the Tower someday-- or am I wrrrong?
[She looks back.]
Now, this could just be the booze talkin', but if I took that pin wouldn't it mean that you'd already given up on that belief?
[Here Makoto. Have a half drunken Mithran warrior's advice on keeping hope in impossible situations. Again. Or maybe judging from a minute or so ago she's trying to teach herself something about hope as well. Or maybe she's just cynical now. Either way - she thinks she's helping. Maybe.]
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