[To say that Clive was crawling out of his skin wouldn’t be much of an understatement. Everything had been building, and building, and building, and sure. There were times of relief, moments of reprieve, of relative quiet, but with each passing day he could feel what he had been resisting bubbling higher and higher and it was finally starting to boil over.
Earth. Verso. Vander. Innocents. Yuri. An Zhe. The bunker. The fog. Joshua.
That is to say, he is about to blow his fucking top and the idea of being alone for even a second more of any of this sounds unbearable. And honestly? So is being sober.
Which is how he ends up outside Cid’s apartment with a large, brown paper bag in one arm, a case of beer in the other, and his backpack slung over his shoulder. He “knocks” by kicking the door lightly a couple of times.]
[Cid opens the door, expecting a few trick or treaters. He clearly hadn’t fully heard Clive as he got up to tend to the door. He’s got the cauldron of candy held in one arm but resting on his hip.]
[Cid is apparently dressed for ann entirely different occasion than the one Clive has brought to him. He’s got chaps over jeans, a cheap duster, and a pearl snap cowboy shirt.]
[He sets the cants down on a little table by the door and steps aside.]
[Clive takes a second to give Cid a once-over and can't help the slight smirk that finds its way to his face.]
I thought you weren't going to dress up?
[Clive walks past him to the kitchen and starts unloading. Beers to the fridge, a couple of bottles of wine and a bottle of tequila to the counter, followed by a couple of limes, a container of salt, and a couple of shot glasses.]
I wasn't sure what you had here.
[Clive starts fishing around for a knife and a cutting board. He needed to be two shots in yesterday. He does take a second to poke his head back out of the kitchen.]
You look good in that, by the way.
[Though the duster, disappointingly, hid how good Clive knew those chaps would make Cid's ass look.]
Good. They probably need it. You know, you can wear more than just the leathers. We have actual options now.
[Which Clive has very much taken advantage of, though he still doesn't go anywhere without his sword, which he removes before shrugging out of his leather jacket, revealing a dark red t-shirt with a deep v paired with form-fitting black jeans that have clearly seen some wear.]
I'm impressed people wear half of the things that store offers, but, well. [Clive finally finds a knife and a cutting board and starts slicing a lime into wedges.] I've seen people walking around in less.
[He grabs the bottle of tequila, pops the stopper out, and pours two shots.]
At least for the night. [He nods towards the shots as he sprinkles some salt on the back of his hand.] Want one?
[It's someone else's turn to be the drunk fool for once.]
Well, my leathers actually fit me. You wouldn’t know anything about that.
[Cid saunters in and takes a seat at the table.]
Of course.
[He watches him cut limes, his mind conjuring ancient images of the things they’d do to avoid scurvy. The salt thing was new. But he was willing to do as Clive was, even if this was fucking up his order of operations on being the host. He could put it aside this once.]
You'd have to take that up with my father. Besides, they're comfortable and they do their job. I'm not the one getting distracted by them.
[Clive brings the shots and fixings to the table. He sprinkles salt on the back of Cid's hand, too.]
Lick the salt, take the shot, bite the lime.
[Clive gives a very clearly well-versed example before nodding to Cid as he grabs the tequila from the counter and comes back to pour himself a second shot.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
levindicated) wrote2020-06-28 07:20 pm
Action
Earth. Verso. Vander. Innocents. Yuri. An Zhe. The bunker. The fog. Joshua.
That is to say, he is about to blow his fucking top and the idea of being alone for even a second more of any of this sounds unbearable. And honestly? So is being sober.
Which is how he ends up outside Cid’s apartment with a large, brown paper bag in one arm, a case of beer in the other, and his backpack slung over his shoulder. He “knocks” by kicking the door lightly a couple of times.]
Cid, open up. My arms are full.
no subject
[Cid is apparently dressed for ann entirely different occasion than the one Clive has brought to him. He’s got chaps over jeans, a cheap duster, and a pearl snap cowboy shirt.]
[He sets the cants down on a little table by the door and steps aside.]
Now that’s a good trick. Come on in.
tw: alcohol, very mild nsfw
I thought you weren't going to dress up?
[Clive walks past him to the kitchen and starts unloading. Beers to the fridge, a couple of bottles of wine and a bottle of tequila to the counter, followed by a couple of limes, a container of salt, and a couple of shot glasses.]
I wasn't sure what you had here.
[Clive starts fishing around for a knife and a cutting board. He needed to be two shots in yesterday. He does take a second to poke his head back out of the kitchen.]
You look good in that, by the way.
[Though the duster, disappointingly, hid how good Clive knew those chaps would make Cid's ass look.]
no subject
[And maybe he was feeling a bit more optimistic about himself than “drunk fool”. Though Clive’s offerings were much more that than anything else.]
I’ve got rum. Nothing to eat, but there’s some new spots around the station.
[Cid plucks at his clothes and looks at them with the compliment.]
It’s not too bad. Among the warmer costumes available, at least.
[Cid lingers in the doorway to light a cigarillo. Now that was a lot of booze. ]
So… moving in?
no subject
[Which Clive has very much taken advantage of, though he still doesn't go anywhere without his sword, which he removes before shrugging out of his leather jacket, revealing a dark red t-shirt with a deep v paired with form-fitting black jeans that have clearly seen some wear.]
I'm impressed people wear half of the things that store offers, but, well. [Clive finally finds a knife and a cutting board and starts slicing a lime into wedges.] I've seen people walking around in less.
[He grabs the bottle of tequila, pops the stopper out, and pours two shots.]
At least for the night. [He nods towards the shots as he sprinkles some salt on the back of his hand.] Want one?
[It's someone else's turn to be the drunk fool for once.]
no subject
You wouldn’t know anything about that.
[Cid saunters in and takes a seat at the table.]
Of course.
[He watches him cut limes, his mind conjuring ancient images of the things they’d do to avoid scurvy. The salt thing was new. But he was willing to do as Clive was, even if this was fucking up his order of operations on being the host. He could put it aside this once.]
no subject
[Clive brings the shots and fixings to the table. He sprinkles salt on the back of Cid's hand, too.]
Lick the salt, take the shot, bite the lime.
[Clive gives a very clearly well-versed example before nodding to Cid as he grabs the tequila from the counter and comes back to pour himself a second shot.]