realityshifted | (no subject)

Current Mood: nauseated

Entry tags:

baccano! (d1) firo porchainezo

(no subject)

[Firo appears on the Plane making an 'owf@#!' face. He is hanging on to his arm, which already appears to have healed over... except for his hand. He stares at it. It is missing three fingers.]

....damn.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Shakes his head.] I shouldn't.

Well, according to Berga, that's when you need to most. [Amicable smile.]

[Very heavy sigh.] Fine, then.

[Vanishes off the Plane and reappears with a table, chairs, two glasses, and several bottles of alcohol. He also has reclaimed one of his fingers.] Only the Alveare's best when you're depressed.

[Thoughtful pause.] ...too bad the boss hates slogans.

[Smirks a little and sits down, reaching automatically for a bottle and glass.]

Technically doesn't rhyme, though.

[Props his chin in his good hand cheerfully.] Tastes enough like one. Erm--would you mind pouring?

[Pours two glasses wordlessly and knocks his back in one gulp.]

You got one back. What happened to the other two?

[Exasperated noise.] The bum who cut 'em off ran away with the other two.

[Can't help laughing at that. And Hei knocks back another one.]

[Cheerful grin. Firo doesn't mind the laughing at all. He drinks his own a bit slower.] Wish I could see his face when they come flying out of wherever he stuffs 'em.

[Hei pours himself another one.] So that's how it works? Everything just goes back to you?

I guess so. I'm still figuring it all out.

Must come in handy. [Realizes the pun a bit too late and smirks, then downs the glass.]

[Makes a face and takes another drink.] Yeah... well. Causes as much trouble as it solves.

It's got to be hard to keep a secret. [Pours himself another one, wobbling a bit now.] Though I doubt anyone here will give a damn.

There's that. [He stares at his glass quietly for a little while.] One of my friends, one of the new immortals, he... got picked by some folks who don't like us. They figured out what he was pretty damn quick. Just kept hurting him 'til he lost it.

[Another pause, and then he downs the rest of the drink and motions to Hei to pour him another.]

[Wordlessly pours another for Firo, then downs his own, rather quickly. And then pours himself another.]

And eventually there will be the scientists as well. If there aren't already. [And totally doesn't want to talk about that, so he slams back this new one as well.]

[Annnd now he feels even gloomier. This was not the plan.] Already was one. An immortal himself. Szilard.

[What's the quote? "People who drink to drown their sorrows should be told that sorrow knows how to swim."]

Back when the Gates first showed up, the organization that studies them--PANDORA--liked to catch Contractors and run experiments. Or try to create Contractors on their own. [Pours himself another one, spilling a little.] Bad time for everyone.

[Props his head in his good hand again.] Contractors?

[Bitter smirk.] It's the name given to the monsters in my world. [Lovely alcohol~]

Szilard was a monster. [Sips his drink broodingly.] Tracked down and ate eighteen other immortals before... before he got eaten himself.

[Swills his drink.] When you say "eaten" you don't mean in the normal sense, do you?

[....] Not cooked and served pretty, no. Consumed might be more accurate--we just always called it eating.

...they did, I mean. The first immortals.

[Is about to ask how it works, then realizes he doesn't really want to know. So he just downs his drink and tries to pour himself another, except he succeeds in only getting half of it actually in the glass and the rest all over the table :|]