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[why, of COURSE it's awkward! because even what discussion was had isn't a proper playbook for...this kind of thing. relationship? venture? exploration? trust that she's already spent enough sleepless time stressing over labels and maybe screaming into a pillow out of frustration over it.

it's awkward because she doesn't know the boundaries well enough to know how to respond. she, of course, defaults to polite, but it's clear by the way her posture stiffens and her gaze averts that she's uncertain. it's too much to be pleased for another encounter, right? so she shouldn't be.]

Ah, no--no, not today. Not until tomorrow afternoon. [she peers back up, brushing her bangs out of her eyes (that go back into place almost immediately because anime hair).] I was in De Chima. The imPort clinic there. I help out a couple times a week when I can, so...

[when she looks down again, her eyes fix on the bags.]

Did you...just come out of here with those? [her mouth quirks.] I can't believe I'd not have noticed you in there.

[That's true, in Guzma's case he was maybe hoping that feeling would go away. That he'd be able to get over it and approach this with that confidence he boasts in every other situation, or relationship...but this is different. In a lot of ways. In how it started, how it developed, what it's becoming.

He watches a bit stoically as she makes a futile effort to tame her bangs, his expression softening even more as he finds himself amused at their defiance. He's half listening to what she's saying--of course she'd be the type to help out at some clinic, she's too nice for her own good--but then the last bit catches him.

Blinking, he looks down at the bags in his hands, instinctively raising them halfway, before letting his arms lower again, letting the weight pull them down.]

Oh. Yeah, I did. Guess we both ain't too observant, huh?

[An awkward beat. He glances away from her.]

Well, if you ain't busy...[He pauses again, his expression falling to something conflicted, before he shrugs dismissively.]--Eh, nevermind. You probably got better things to do, besides I doubt you'd be interested anyway.

[Smooth, jackass. Particularly the part where he turns to start to head away again, like that's even a possibility after that.]

Edited 2019-09-27 22:47 (UTC)

[she looks back up to offer that sheepish smirk in reply, only to wind up holding a breath, eyebrows raised. if she isn't busy, then...?]

I-- I'm not busy! [she cuts into that remark about doubting interest, her eyes big, and herself drawn up on her toes without thinking.

of course, when she does manage a thought a beat later, she flushes, settling back on flat feet.]

...That is...You, you shouldn't just assume I'd be one way or the other without asking. You don't know for sure...!

[and that's not fair! she frowns, a little bothered he's still just...doing that. making assumptions. he'd not had the best views of her formed in his own head at first, after all.]

[He freezes. Glancing at her from over his shoulder, looking almost a little...guilty? Is that what it is? He doesn't know. She's right, and he knows it.

Facing her once more, he looks a little sheepish himself. Like he just got caught doing something embarrassing, and maybe that whole...whatever that was, kinda was. He doesn't even know why he does that shit at times, yet he always seems to do it...]

...Well, I was gonna kick it at my place and have a couple of drinks. Dunno if you're into that. Y'don't seem the type, but maybe I'm wrong.

[...it's...probably not really nice that she feels a beat of enjoyment at seeing him relent like that. but sometimes it feels nice to have a bit of vindication, okay?

she tilts her head, meaning to hold that scrutinizing look a bit longer than she could, because she has to move a bit out of someone's way. this breaks the stare and has her looking elsewhere, face still pink.]

Right. Alcohol, you mean? Is it really that enjoyable? And by yourself...

[parties, she can get. that makes sense.]

[There's a small pang at her highlighting the fact he'd be drinking by himself, like she's judging him. The souring to his look is her first clue that it bothered him.]

Tch, you can just say you ain't interested.

[He looks away from her, frowning.]

Ain't nothin' wrong with drinkin' by yourself, neither.

[Except it's pretty depressing, but it's such a normal thing for him...]

[ah...she messed up? again? she must've; when she looks back, there's a familiar look starting to come back that she's less-than thrilled to see.]

I didn't say there was. And if that's what you want, then I'll leave you to it. But, as I said... [she tilts her head up, stubborn.] I'm not busy. And I wouldn't mind.

[He glances at her.

Stares for a moment.

Then starts off again, saying nothing. But after a few steps he stops and looks back at her.]

...You coming?

[Like that silent stare was an obvious invitation??? Why is he like this...]

[when he turns away and begins to leave, Lucina's left with her mouth hanging open in a mix of offense and disappointment. he can't even bother to properly dismiss her?! honestly, he'd have been served better dishing out some pathetic insult than just--!

...oh.

she blinks a couple times, for one second confused, then the next brightening, reanimated.]

Ah, right! Yes. I am!

[she adjusts the purse strap on her shoulder and trots after him, trying to force as much of a scowl as she can up at him while still being pleased to be invited.]

You seemed as if you were just going to ignore me entirely, you know! What am I supposed to think about that?

[He's trying not to smile when she visibly perks and follows, turning a little quickly to keep his face from being entirely visible. His height being rather advantageous in that regard. However, how she's looking at him catches his notice in his periphery, and he can't help but look at her.

That put upon scowl trying to hide her happiness is...ridiculous. But he digs it. Less so the scolding itself.]

...Shit, I dunno. Did'ya want a formal invitation? Thought I made it pretty clear I wanted you t'join me.

[What about that was clear..???]

Edited (jfkghkh I can words) 2019-09-28 01:05 (UTC)

[yeah, bracket text!! you said it!!]

What on earth was clear about that...? [it's muttered, just before she lets out a huff, squinting ahead of them.

that's the end of her scolding, however; now that she's fallen into step -- sort of; she has to hustle a bit to keep up with his stride -- she lets her thoughts wander to the activity ahead of them. social drinking...she's taken champagne at gatherings before, and is no stranger to boiled wine at a campfire to keep warm, but she's not really drunk enough to be really affected by it.

just that ice cream with Allura. that's probably different.

but, right...lots of parties in the past, especially ones thrown by Owain or Peter, with lots of drink...lots of Archie falling asleep in parking lots while Crobat grumbles overhead. she certainly hopes that's not a sight she'll have to see reenacted today. even if antics leading up to that sorry state might've been fun, was it really worth such an end...?]

[To her muttered question, he just hardens his stare, before pulling it away from her to watch where he's going. He hardly needs to get distracted staring at her and running into someone like she did him. Or worse, tripping on something like a damn fool.

However, the silence just makes the tension a little more...tense. God, it's so weird and he's not entirely sure why he finds this desirable? Why, despite the discomfort this awkwardness promises to deliver and does, he chooses to endure. Well, he knows why, it's because of...this attraction they share, and the complicated feelings involved, but that's also part of the problem.

The only true mercy, for either of them, is that his place isn't far from the convenience store. Which makes Guzma wonder if this was truly a chance meeting, or if there might have been more to Lucina's choosing of stores than she lead him to believe. Not that it matters, not really. He seems to perk when it comes into view, his pace picking up a bit, which is a little cruel when Lucina's already having to trot to keep up with his normal walking speed.

Whether or not there will be any passing out in parking lots is up in the air, but chances were looking favorable towards not, at least. Once at his door, he unlocks it and goes inside. Not thinking to hold the door for Lucina, he instead just leaves it open behind him. Look, he's not known for his manners, chivalry died well before his time.

At least the place doesn't look much worse than before. In fact, maybe it looks a little better? Some of the take out boxes are gone, anyway.]

So, what's your poison, huh?

[He asks over his shoulder as he heads towards his kitchen, unloading the bags onto his table. There's...quite a lot. He's stocked up on beer in his fridge, the bags are full of nothing but hard liquor.

Vodka, rum, tequila...and some mixers which he doesn't seem too worried about showing Lucina.

In fact, he seems fit to just leave them in the bags, even though their colors are more than noticeable. The bright ass pink and yellow doesn't exactly hide well inside a semi-transparent white plastic bag. Maybe he's less inclined to show 'em off seeing as some fruity crap to mix with his booze doesn't help maintain his tough guy image, and he's banking on Lucina being too nice to go asking or digging.]

[Lucina moves into the kitchen a bit later -- after taking her shoes off and closing the door, you know. but she's not far behind at his call and watches him deposit that bounty of booze onto the table. once she puts her purse down on a counter, she moves over to peer into the bags.

this is...is this excessive? she's not sure. is he stockpiling for the long-term? expecting other guests? she might have misremembered, but she thought he said he only visited this place once in a while, preferring his space with his gang...

he needn't be worried about judgment on those fruity mixes -- they register more as interesting and much less as some sign of weakness. after all, she's not familiar with alcohol norms; she'd just think it's clever to find ways to mask the horrid taste of the stuff on its own.]

I don't think I've had any of these before... [she's reading a rum label. pirate drink, right? that's what comes to mind right away.] Wine, yes, but not any of these... [hm. the tequila label is kind of whimsical, isn't it? as if that denotes anything. she frowns, starting to feel very...foolish. she has no idea about any of this and it's clear, isn't it? best to just power through, she thinks.]

This seems fine. [she taps the cap of the rum bottle. pirates. makes her think Archie. seems the right choice to her!]

[Guzma never knows what people will think of him, and for all he tries to act like he doesn't care about those things, he does entirely too much. Why else would he go around puffing up his chest so much, acting aggressive and intimidating? Why would he put on such a show of how strong he is, and try to control exactly how much of him people get to see? He's shackled by how much he gives a shit about what people think of him, and it's so pathetic at times he makes himself sick.

However, what he wants people to think of him isn't always aligned with what most people who give a shit about that sorta thing cares about. For example, he has no shame about his alcoholism, because he doesn't think it's an issue. It helps him seem more like a scary wretch of a dude, so what's the problem? Trick question, there isn't one!

Yet, the idea of someone realizing he's got a major sweet tooth? Yeah, that'd hurt his image. He also contradicts other parts of this, however. Guzma's just a walking contradiction.]

Wine? Tch, that shit's fine, but no where near as fun. You've been missing out!

[He watches with amusement as she looks through the bottles, making a decision. When she falls on the rum, he quirks an eyebrow.]

Yeah? What made ya pick that one? [Hell her decision could be entirely arbitrary for all he knows, but he's curious. As he asks, he walks over to the cupboards, and what had only mugs before seems to have a couple of glasses. It seems Guzma picked up some since last she was here, weird.

Whatever the reason, he's grabbing both her and himself a glass, returning shortly after.]

I remember tales of pirates when I was little. [she smiles small, feeling a bit of vindication in seeing a little skull and crossbones on the label.

~~Lucina. that's one of the warning labels. Lucina. Lucina it's because the contents can be toxic Lucina Lu--~~]

Pirates who sailed for gold and...well, rum. [small shrug! she slides the bottle Guzma's way when he returns with the glasses, which she thinks little of in the moment, but you can bet she'll reflect well after-the-fact.]

I've got no love for the pirates from my world, but there is one I'm very fond of here, so...

[He smirks at her explanation. It's...cute. Sure, he knows well about the association of pirates and rum, which seems to be a universal constant if Lucina's also aware of it, but for that being the reason is pretty pure.

Taking the bottle, he cracks it open and pours them both up a glass, handing Lucina's hers. If she does reflect on the addition of the glasses and says anything to him about it, he'll vehemently deny it has anything to do with her. It'll be a fucking lie, but look, don't @ him like that.]

You talkin' about Archie?

[because who the fuck else here is a pirate? Sure there's a bunch of people, but Archie is the first to come to mind, and he's at least aware that they know each other. They both know Darin, they are both in Aegis. He might not be the smartest dude, but he can connect obvious dots.]

Of course! [she takes the glass offered, mirroring his expression in a smaller way.] So far, he has shown to be a rather...exceptional exception to the rule I've grown up knowing. [and she's glad for that.

somehow, just the fond mention of that dear pirate of hers puts her at some ease, plucking a few nervous butterfly wings in her gut. though she fears to tell him just what she's been up to regarding the man standing near her, just recalling her vow to do well and be safe for his sake is enough to keep her more grounded.

yes...whatever does come of this, she'll do her best. she must!

she gives the contents of her glass a cursory sniff. it smells kind of...syrupy? is that the right word? she's not sure. it's--well, it's not as potent a fume as she'd expected an alcohol to have, that's for sure. hmh.]

...Is there some form of, ah...initiation or maneuver that precedes drinking this sort of drink? [despite all that mention of encouragement and being grounded, peeking back up at Guzma does a bit to derail that. the soft edge to his smirk seems designed to help a butterfly regrow a bit of wing.]

That is -- the way that people clink champagne glasses or other drinks. [she may not have ventured out far into drink-culture, but she's not utterly devoid of awareness!]

[Guzma actually has no personal experience with pirates outside of Archie, and he kinda wonders if he truly classifies as one? But it doesn't matter, and he doesn't care that much to get into the legitimacy of him being a pirate. It's not like they have pirate IDs or something.

It does make him wonder how bad of a problem pirates were back in her world, but she'c clearly from a far more dated period, or that's what he can assume. Considering her armor, how she holds herself, and even how she talks. Certainly not some modern day lady, that's for sure.

He's about to take a drink of his own when she asks the question, and his eyes look between her and his glass, before he lets out a small chuckle. She's really that clueless, huh? This gives him ample opportunity to totally fuck with her, and he really considers it for a moment.

Maybe someone smarter would think about how fucking with your new...girlfriend? Is that what she is? He's not entirely sure, but anyway, point is he probably should wait till they're more acquainted with the parameters of whatever this is between them before jumping right into fucking with each other.

BUT GUZMA IS NOT A SMART MAN.]

Well, you don't gotta do this around me, 'cos I ain't a pirate. But if you ever drink rum around a pirate, you're expected to do the pirate salute before hand.

Y'know, to show respect. Well, at least that's how it is back where me and Archie come from.

[He says it so matter-of-fact and without any discriminating humor in his voice, it's hard to tell if he's pulling her leg or not. This is honestly a two-fer. If he can get Lucina to believe him, then he can also get Archie with this ridiculous shit.]

What -- really?

[her eyebrows lift, and already she is trying to recall instances of being around both Archie and alcohol. cheers, she remembers, that's common. was it rum? beer? hm...!]

I'll have to ask Archie about it. [because the information may come from Guzma, but he is not a professional pirate-motif. better to get the training directly from the source.] But, in any case...

[no glass-clinking, no cheers or other calls... Lucina's mouth tugs in a dubious fashion as she looks back down at the contents of her glass before looking back over at Guzma. is this a sipping-drink? or some kind of...all-at-once situation?

maybe...it's better to just follow his lead.]

Yeah, really. Surprised he hadn't told ya about it before.

[He plays with the idea of making it up, and encouraging her to impress Archie with her newly learned Pirate Knowledge, but even he knows that'd be a little too far. It'll be enough to just baffle Archie for a moment.]

I'm sure he'll be happy to share about his pirate heritage. [Guzma offers with a casual shrug, the jackass. He watches as Lucina tries to figure out what to do from there, and as her gaze lingers on him, clearly looking for some indication, Guzma merely grins as he takes a rather large drink from his own glass.

Of course he's not... expecting her to do that exactly, but if she does, well... he's got paper towels if she spits it out, at least.]

[...right. not the whole glass. but that was...a substantial gulp, wasn't it?

Lucina peers back down at her glass once more, considering it. it'd be foolish to slam the whole thing back, she knows, so...so just a hefty swig. no big deal.

sighs loudly, drawing her shoulders up as she brings the glass up to her lips, holding the next breath and tipping it back with one loud gulp. she sets the glass down in swift order while her expression remains scrunched and braced against the impact of sugary, alcoholic piracy, her face turning red.]

Ghack--! [she lets out the breath with a cough, quickly bringing a hand over her mouth while she smacks against the aftertaste.] Oh, that...didn't...taste at all as I expected it to...!

You really went at it, huh? Can't say I'm surprised, given what I know about you.

[At least Guzma looks amused at her little struggle, before taking another drink of it like it's nothing. Because to him, it is.]

If the taste ain't to your liking—[He pauses, eyes falling to the mixers in the bag. In a split second he debates with himself, and decides he can deal. After all, she'll probably find this out eventually. Hell, she might not even think that deeply about it.

With his glass, he tilts it towards the aforementioned mixers.]—there's those.

[she swallows again, shaking her head and finally withdrawing her hand.]

I-it's fine. I'll finish what I was given, thank you. [because requesting something different would be admitting defeat, and she can't have that.

...gods, he already had another gulp of his own, didn't he? she grimaces. it's not a competition, but...she doesn't like feeling so foolish, either. there's a want to regain some of that remarkable atmosphere they'd had when, somehow, they had been on equal footing, but maybe that was going to only occur in more dire circumstances? she hopes not. it can't all be grim talk that makes things level...]

It's not that bad. Just. Surprising, is all.

[She's as stubborn as he is, it seems. Not wanting to lose, but at least she's more...reasonable in the face of it. Likewise, he wants things to become less awkward between them, for them to find that groove where they both feel confident and comfortable with one another.

They gotta, or else this will make for an uncomfortable relationship, huh?]

The point of mixers is you combine 'em to enhance the flavor.

Here—

[He places his own drink down on the table, before pulling the mixers out to show her them. One is strawberry (he will never not get used to Rawst Berry being red), and the other pineapple (at least that one was close and similarly colored to pinap).]

Pick one.

...

[admittedly, she really doesn't want straight-rum to be the hill she dies on here, so if he's going to actively offer an out...]

You mean...masking the alcoholic aftertaste? [she tips the strawberry mixer a bit to peer at the label.] I suppose that makes sense. [more sense the more she considers it, really. after all, she can't imagine herself partaking in the number of drinks she'd seen Owain and his friends throw back if they all tasted like this.

she taps the mixer after letting it set back on the table properly.]

That, then. If you don't mind.

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