route666rp | drinking mystery booze may be unwise.

drinking mystery booze may be unwise.

Who: Serph, Heat, Jayce .. possibly eventually Secunit and or John and or Jack. TBD.
What: Maybe apologies. eventually, getting drunk.
Where: Convoy!
When: Late evening, after the shield is fixed
Warnings: May contain ANY of the following: Alcohol, drinking, adult themes, canon typical violence, carnivory, mention of cannibalism, secunit judging everyone organic, Great Old Ones, monsters and shenanigans.

The heavy rain and thunderstorms of the day have tapered off to a thick mist behind the wall of the convoy's newly repaired shield. It does nothing to mute the chorus of strange frogs and insects out in the wet and murk, their warped biologies and instincts not abating the one springtime party they all seem to throw.

With the rain past it's a struggle to get a low campfire going, not because it's necessary but because it's strangely relaxing to be able to lean against one vehicle's giant tire, low flames flickering in their little circle of rocks driving back some of the damp, and listen to the noise going on out in the water.

The small fire is an ongoing, silent invitation. Most people might be asleep, but there was always someone coming and going at night. Sure, dinner might be gone, bones charring gradually black amidst the flames, but there'd be fire if someone wanted to reheat another meal without hunting the entire kitchen up at this hour.

Most of his armor is for the moment missing, stripped just to the black undersuit, foraged orange gloves, shoes and nothing else; the evening's warm enough for more to not be necessary, and with the shield up, what feral demon was going to attack successfully? After the frenetic work of the past while, it's ... almost peaceful. People kept telling Heat this isn't Nirvana. The only thing that made it not so to him was his absent comrades.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The rain had been nostalgic.

Junkyard rain was nothing like this, but to feel the droplets of water pelting his face again puts him in a wistful mood. Despite everything, he does have some fond memories of the place... especially considering how quiet the Convoy is in comparison to Muladhara after everyone slowly awoke to their emotions.

But his wings unfortunately aren't waterproof, so once the bad weather fades the fire is a welcome source of heat to help dry his feathers. When Serph quietly slips into an empty spot by Heat's fire, he folds his wings forward to dry his pinions, the angle completely unnatural.

To Serph, this kind of peaceful quiet is the sort of thing they would have even more of in Nirvana. If the others were here, there would be undoubtedly even more chatter and laughter. He doesn't have anything to say, content to absorb the atmosphere.

[ rain dampens scent, but jayce can't exactly say good things about the wetness itself. it limits his mobility doesn't make gathering wood for coal an easier task; wet logs meant difficulty catching. that meant more delays. even storing them within the convoy itself wouldn't save it from the dew sitting in the air. over all, it's a time.

eventually, the parts are found. the generator is repaired, and the shields are back up. they could rest, and jayce feels like he could use one. it sounds like an occasion to bring out the glass bottles of whiskey he'd found at the gas station. two of them; the first, meant to be shared with viktor alone, hoping to tast the theory that he could still somehow get hiw partner to drink, and see him drunk for a night if he were lucky enough. the second glass— he didn't know. turns out, it would serve as a peace offering, whenn the time was right.

same with john, jayce couldn't allow himself to walk the fine thread of grudges within a tightly nit convoy. they all needed each other. they needed a team, with working cogs, not irritable monsters at each others throats. they have enough of those around without lifting their hands to add to the bunch.

a familiar clo-closh of a limp and hooves in sodden grass approaches serph's truck; before long it's the antlers that show. earlier than that, perhaps his strange odor of radioactive rot wafts along with the humid crispness of earth. when jayce comes in range of the two, he tries not to pause; he was expecting heat, there. just had to push through it, the neck of the bottle in one grip, a long, sturdy stick in his other as a temporary cane stand-in. ]

Did it catch quick enough?

[ the fire, he means. just because he doesn't mean it doesn't mean he doesn't welcome warmth. he has some bad memories of the ravine, struggling to get a fire to burn in dampness still makes his skin prick. ]

[The sounds of an occupied Convoy is different from the sound of a busy tribe on their home turf, but at least it's ... something. If he lets his mind wander long enough, he finds himself still listening for the occasional patrol, the murmur of familiar voices, but it's only the new. New isn't bad, it's just not what he wants.

Interrupting the quiet when Serph turns up is only a brief mutter of "Wet feathers stink" before lapsing back into something like contented silence. Serph would dry out, the smell would fade, and there's worse ways to spend an evening. It's hardly a private party, so when there's the dragging clop of a certain decaying stag, red eyes slit back open to watch but Heat doesn't bother to actually move though the immediate impulse is there to put himself between Jayce and his Leader. He had his orders, whether or not he liked them.

Jayce was not to be eaten. So be it.]

There was some drier stuff under the big rigs. Dug it out.

[Once they caught and were hot enough, the wetter stuff still burned just fine. It would never have been a problem if he still had access to his magic. What little he'd had.

It is with obvious begrudging that the next offer is made; Heat is NOT good at playing nice with people on the best of days, with people he actually liked.]

If you're hungry, there's still food. Not cooked.

[Packed up neatly so it won't rot, but maybe rotten wouldn't matter to something.. also rotten.]

[ he knew starvation untill it was burned into his memory bank. jayce isn't one to reject food nowadays, even though he hesitates for just a brief moment; the rotting pieces of velvet tainted with arcane fractals wave off his antlers as he finally settles on a single nod, joining them to take a seat, although it takes him a few moments to actually lower himself down and stretch his bad leg out. judging by his complexion, between the warm dance of a nearby fire and the clouded moonlight above, his lips are evidently colored; the opaque sheet usually over his eyes has been cleared with a lively shimmer. he wasn't starving. he's recently fed, even. anywhere within the last 8 hours. ]

Can't say it's for thirst, [ he lifts the bottle briefly, and the amber contents within slosh back and forth against its containment, ] but it's something.

[ handing it to serph first, his gaze glides between both of the men to add: ]

For you guys.

Edited 2025-06-19 00:37 (UTC)

Serph readily accepts the gift from Jayce. But when he inspects it more closely, his brows furrow in consternation. It has a lot of similarities to the bottle of liquid that Roland had offered Argilla; dark, amber brown glass and a faded label that renders the contents a mystery. He also remembers Argilla being enamoured with the liquid's pretty colour as she swirled her glass, but coughing and sputtering the moment she took a sip.

Roland had seemed fine. If anything, the liquid seemed to have an effect on his mood as he talked with them that first time.

What this is prickles uncomfortably at the back of his mind. Contrary to his past observations, there's a part of him that has has pleasant associations with this kind of bottle.

A useful tool.
(But for what?)

Carefully, he asks, "What is this?"

[He made the offer, he's bound to follow through. It wasn't hard to kill more than he needed to devour so the excess could be used for someone else, but saving a slaughtered target for later was strange, sat uncomfortably no matter how much sense it made. It did mean in the absence of Sera, the risks of some ignorant rookie going too long without devouring wasn't as likely.

He'd been told that didn't happen here, but Heat wasn't counting on that being reality. As Jayce settles down and offers Serph a bottle that's both familiar and not, he drags himself back to his feet to re-locate something reasonably edible.

There's no immediate bad associations with whatever Serph's been handed. It's probably fine. Probably.]

Looks like engine oil.

[Light golden brown, liquid, a little thicker than water, an odd offering but maybe it's the best anyone could find for cleaning and maintenance for the sparse number of guns in the convoy. It's useful.

He'll be back in a minute. There's a box around here somewhere.]

Alcohol.

[ jayce answers readily enough, watching heat stand from his place and step away; even if jayce has his gaze back on serph, his ears still seem to be following heat with swivels, flicks— eventually, one ear trains forward, the other, sideways. ]

It could Whiskey . . . Brandy, [ he rolls his hands to gesture, thoughtful. he's only a casual drinker, or used to taking sips of high end champaign during his glory golden boy days, so distinguishing anything by appearance or scent alone was a bit challenging. ] ring any bells?

[Alcohol? Serph's perplexed frown deepens. Alcohol is used for disinfecting. Yet something in his head claims it's for drinking, despite drinking disinfectant being somewhere in the top 10 of bad ideas. Jayce had said it isn't for thirst, which puts another mark in the 'not for consumption' column. Whiskey and brandy don't sound like disinfectants though...

When Heat returns, Serph gives him a sidelong glance before silently holding out the bottle for him to take. Does Heat have any idea what those things are?]

[Heat does in fact return, and though the small, battered cooler he's carrying has obviously seen better days, scavenged from some wretched place or other and cleaned up, it also comes with the sharp familiar smell of blood and meat.

He knows his own preferences, just.. cooking everything was a terrible waste. For all that he's reluctant to do anything like making nice, especially with someone he wouldn't much mind getting a second or third bite on to put that weird fizzy taste to the test again, it is .. as close as he gets. Food is a precious resource. Giving it away ..

The cooler is set down close enough where Jayce doesn't have to get up to reach it, half because it frees him up to take the bottle from Serph, brow furrowed. He'd heard 'whiskey' and 'brandy' before, he's SURE of it, but like so much else, there's nothing he can pin down.]

... I think it's ... something you drink for fun instead of being thirsty..?

[There's a ribbon of uncertainty in his tone as the bottle's turned over in his hands. He didn't like uncertainty, and scrabbling through fragmented flickers of some other life wasn't enjoyable either.]

[ just like big galas weren't just for show or something, social drinking, casual drinking— it all came down to one thing: adult enjoyment. ]

Precisely. [ jayce's ears swivel before his head does to acknowledge the cooler. it's . . . cold meat. his nose gives a twitch, having a biological preference for his food hot, and not in a cooked sense. fresh. nearily alive as it seeps out of a mortally inflicted wound. but, you know— he's not going to decline, now that it's being offered. mel has taught him a thing or two about getting along with people, not in the way he'd wack his problems around with a hammer. he takes to smallest piece of prepared meat and popspieces on his mouth to chew. with a bit of a square jaw, but. you know! a show of camaraderie was better than not. he goes on to add: ] Take the right amount and it'll relax you. But I should warn you that that amount varies.

The corner of Serph's lip curls into the barest hint of amusement at Jayce's show of cooperation; all of them prefer their meat hot and bloody.

His gaze returns to the bottle. A drink that you consume for fun and relaxation? What would even be fun about drinking liquid from a bottle?

He's curious, but Heat has the bottle and he would test any mysterious and unidentified liquids first before allowing his leader to partake. He gives the slightest tilts of his head, an indication Heat should go ahead. Heat doesn't need permission of course, they both know that.

If it's not actively trying to get away, is it still really a meal? But sacrifices needed to be made in mixed company, and dragging something back still alive and screaming was likely to offend the delicate sensibilities of most of the caravan. He's probably going to sooner or later though.

Something leaves him pretty sure there is such thing as 'too much' of this kind of thing, but where that line is and why there's a too much he didn't know. Heat wasn't usually one to suffer from problems of things he puts in his stomach, so there's a shrug at Serph's glance, and he sets to getting the cap off, then tries a longer sip than he probably should.

To his credit he doesn't immediately gag. It's NOT a great experience, but he's well used to burning things, so that part isn't a problem, and when the burn fades, it leaves other flavors behind. After a measuring silence he hands it back to Serph. "It's going to burn going down but it's not fire. The taste happens afterward."

Back down into the dust he goes, to return unblinking red stare to Jayce, weighing. "Where'd you find it?"

[ it's mildly satisfying to see the first drink go. cheers, or something. jayce briefly trains is gaze back and forth toward serph to catch his reaction for the second swallow. ears come first, then jayce's own eyes to keep on heat's, mid square chew. ]

The last gas station, looking for supplies. [ and runes, but he's only ever been coming up empty handed these days. and, since he's here for, he might as well come up and say it rather than stall any further. ] I'm sorry— I was hasty when we met. Impatient.

[ that's nothing new. he gestures with a steady point to the bottle. ]

That's my olive branch.

Serph tilts his head, taking the bottle. Why would he drink something burns?

An olive branch?

If it wasn't for the fact he already knows who Lupa's child is, his mind would immediately wonder if Jayce was him. But Jayce is far too big to be a child at least.

Serph takes a drink. To his credit, he doesn't choke. But his expression goes still, his eyes narrowed as the liquid feels exactly like a burn going down. There is flavour, but he's not sure whether he enjoys is or not. People drink this for fun?

Serph offers the bottle to Jayce to partake.

If Heat's casually using the toe of his boot to work the cooler and its contents closer to the fire so it warms up a little and isn't so revolting to eat air temperature meat, that's purely accidental and not at all the goal. He's listening even if he's quiet for a minute, and what's said is mostly understandable.

He had a grasp on apologies. Vaguely. It was a thing people said; Argilla said it a lot. Sometimes Sera. But what to do about them is another matter, the proper response to one never really came up.

And what the hell was an olive branch? The drink? It's visible when Heat slides from as neutral as he can keep himself to puzzled awkwardness. "Sure." Olive branch, apologies, yep, he's got it. Drink the olive branch. "Everyone gets hungry." Impatience and hunger go hand in hand.

He scrubs a hand through the side of his hair. That didn't sound like enough, but what else went to a 'sorry' he didn't know, and the uncertainty grows. "Most people don't get to take a bite and live to talk about it later. So. uh. Congrats..?"

That didn't sound right either.

I mean, [ jayce raises his brows, takes the bottle, ] if you want to count me as alive, [ the ends of a smile . . . kind of pulls at his lips, in his attempt at easing into camaraderie, ] sure.

[ he tips the bottle back just enough to pour a mouthful down. his brows pinch and his lips pull in, because agh, that's strong. time has cultivated it to an almost dangerous amount of kick . . . well. they could relax though, right? and jayce was needing it.

so he lets the heat from the drink finish burning down his throat and warm his belly up. he open chest tingles and right now, he's glad he has it behind wraps and clothes so he doesn't have to look at the drinks go down. not with the same satisfaction as, say, blood fresh out the blood vessel, but it's alright.

better than pretending to drinking with the council members in their fancy parties. ]

[That is about as close to an apology as one can get from Heat. Being 'proud' of Heat isn't quite the right description for what he feels, but Serph appreciates the effort and lack of grudge.

(Now, if only that same effort could be expended towards John...)

Sure, Jayce died. But so did he. And they're both kicking around now, so as far as he's concerned-]

Something that isn't alive doesn't need to devour. You're alive enough.

[He gestures for the bottle again. Even if he doesn't necessarily like it, Serph isn't one to not partake in a gift given. He'd eaten all the Convoy's porridge that Jack had brought him -- literally the worst thing he's ever eaten -- and this drink in comparison is still better than that.]

[Whether he'd be willing to let bygones be bygones would have to be put to the test the next time they confronted each other without Serph around. Jayce has the benefit of not running around in some other tribe's colors, and Heat really did understand being hungry and facing unknowns who are, obviously, food.]

What he said. I've seen weirder demons than what you've got going on. Flying skulls with no bodies and demon skeletons still gotta devour. You're probably in that kind of category.

[Could be worse. Could be a slime.

He didn't much like fighting turdaks, chewing a bone just wasn't as satisfying as fresh meat. But they existed and they certainly were alive for a while.]

[ serph's reaction and consequently heat's actually surprises him; jayce's expression falls just a touch, and then a smaller smile comes forth with fond gratitude. it wasn't his intention to garner reassurance.
]

I was, uh, [ gesture, ] joking.

[ but the thought that both of them said something at an attempt at reassurance at all was . . . if anything, kind. he'll drink to that. when he addresses the both of them now, its with a genuine curiosity, no sceutiny tagged to it by any means. ]

You don't have many jokes where you're from, do you?

[Serph shakes his head. Conscious of the fact that Heat doesn't know the true nature of the Junkyard, Serph says-]

We lived a life of constant battle.

[Demons, feelings, thoughts of what is beyond combat... that was only a recent phenomenon. The fact that there could be so much more than that... that's still something he's slowly learning in this place.]

This place is peaceful in comparison.

[Maybe they ought to drink to that?]

[The fighting hasn't even ended yet! There's just.. more bits of quiet than he's used to, and what to do with all that free time has Heat at loose ends.]

'Jokes' weren't a thing until .. really recent. All of that didn't matter, nobody cared. It's different now.

[Who needed humor when nobody would laugh or know they should?

But Serph's right. This place is peaceful, monster attacks and demon transformations and all. He stretches one leg out slowly, pulling the other up to rest an arm on his knee.]

It's great. If the rest of our tribe was here I'd be content to call it close enough to Nirvana. All this food, all this life, it's something else. There's plants and things everywhere.

[ jayce knows a thing or two about their situation— whatever serph has told him about the junkyard, he's absorbed with melancholy and sympathies. but, that doesn't have to be a part of this today. drinks meant a chance to relax. be at ease.

have fun, as it were. ]

Alright, [ if they were here to relax— rather than focusing on what they didn't have, or how things used to be, ] try it.

[ he gestures in a way that encourages them to continue with . . . something, ]

Tell me a joke.

[??? Serph normally isn't the most expressive of people to begin with, but his bewilderment is immediately apparent on his face. Where does he even begin with telling a joke?

When faced with a new and unexpected situation, Serph normally knows exactly what to do. It's the quick thinking and rapid adapation to an unfamiliar combat situation that allows he and his comrades to overcome those stronger than them individually.

But at the prospect of telling a joke?

...His mind is utterly blank.

His gaze slides over to Heat. Help.]

[Aside from his missing tribemates, this place is hardly worth being melancholy about. He wasn't really sure what else anyone could WANT, if comrades were left out of the picture. And they'll turn up eventually. Probably.

Jayce's request earns him a nearly identical bewildered look as Serph's wearing, but then Serph glances at him as if he has the answer to this.

Don't look at Heat, he has no damn idea either! He sits back a little, scowling, silent for a solid minute. Jokes are really, REALLY not the Embryon's forte. If they had a sense of humor it was entirely condensed into Cielo, who is conspicuously absent.]

Okay, fine. Did you know Serph can jump higher than the average house? It's not just all the exercise, it's also the fact that houses can't jump.

[ ....................

okay. he's kept a straight face for long enough. jayce's flattened lips finally contort, and out comes a breathy sort of snort. it wasn't even the joke, per se, but the delivery was just. great. good job, he'll drink to that, feeling a pleasant, relaxing buzz from it. ]

We're still coming for you, Serph. [ it's his turn now. ] I'd tell you a joke about inertia, but . . . I don't think it would move you.

[ dead ass stare. ]

[Serph's eyebrows raise into his fringe while Heat is thinking before he lets out a huff of a laugh at the joke. He doesn't fare that much better with Jayce's joke.

But... to avoid having to tell a joke of his own, Serph plucks the bottle of alcohol from Jayce and takes a longass drink from it. If he's drinking he doesn't have to make an attempt at comedy!!]

[Using the bottle as an excuse to not have to come up with a joke is cheating, and Heat watches for a long moment with one visible narrowed eye before leaning over just enough to divest Serph of his prize after an appropriate delay.]

There's no escaping this, we had to think of something, you gotta too. Fair's fair.

[He could potentially come up with another one, but first he wants to see if Serph manages, or gives up entirely first.]

There was a ... huh, a Maribel I think. Ex. [She wore the colors of the Embryon, she counted, eventually.] Did a thing called 'stand up'. Never got to watch but apparently it's all jokes. You heard any of them, we won't tell if you repeat it.

[ a huff! it could've been worse. jayce could've gotten nothing at all . . . while the bottle's making its rounds, jayce leans into their little circle and lines up a few more. he's ready . . . more ready than anyone here, jayce can't remember the last time he was silly ever since his death. ]

Don't make us beg for it, Serph.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

drinking mystery booze may be unwise.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

falls to my knees. there was supposed to be a BE in there.

all good, I understood :>

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject