golisolation | 💀 MoM IC INBOX 💀

[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.

Yeah, some people ain't fond of the taste altogether. So they try to make it taste as little like it as they can.

[He...doesn't really prefer the taste, a fan of sweet more than bitter, but he endures it for a variety of reasons. Besides, he's used to it now, even if he doesn't particularly like it.

He's not surprised she picked Rawst, its usually a preferred flavor over Pinap. With a nod, he walks over to the cabinet again, grabbing a mug, before returning. Screwing off the cap for the mixer, he pauses to consider how much to add. She's mainly concerned about the aftertaste, so he starts a little modestly. Pouring in just enough to color the drink a more reddish hue, not drowning it. Fitting the mug over the top of the glass, he picks it up and shakes it.

Look, if he thought he'd be mixing drinks for someone other than himself, maybe he'd have picked up a proper cocktail mixer, but it is what it is, and she gets his makeshift one instead! Once done, he removes the mug, and hands the glass to her.]

There, try that.

[Lucina watches this bit of drink science with quiet attentiveness, though her attention doesn't stay fixed entirely on the drink. this sort of Guzma is still a new sight to her, and one that part of her is still worried is all-too temporary. mere weeks ago, this sort of thing would be unfathomable, right? yet here she is, murmuring a thank-you when given the updated drink and giving it a cautionary sniff before taking a sip.

she's just going to keep being surprised by things, isn't she?]

...This is a lot better. [she looks a little sheepish to admit it, some color back on her cheeks as she nods.] You have my thanks.

[Honestly, Guzma's a little surprised at himself, but it's par the course for him. When he redefines someone in his mind, he sticks to that pretty stubbornly. There's still a lot of conflicted thoughts and feelings about Lucina, but ultimately he's made the decision to see her more positively...after all, how can they pursue this if he hates her?

So everything he feels about her, including that residual fear and hurt, is getting recontextualized entirely. Not lost, but merely reshaped so that his interactions with her are more favorable than not. It's not the healthiest approach, but neither is a lot of Guzma's approaches to most things, but it's a start. Besides, he conflates fear and respect, so it works!

That proud grin he gives her isn't exactly earned, not when all he did was add some strawberry flavoring to her drink, but hey whatever. It's there. He shrugs as he grabs his own drink once more.]

Don't mention it. No point in you drinkin' somethin' you ain't feelin', right?

[He takes another drink of his, waving for her to follow him towards the living room. After all, they don't gotta be standing around the kitchen the whole time. Once he gets to the couch, he basically flops down onto it. Legs spreading out comfortably, as he just kind of sinks into the cushion—amazingly he doesn't spill his drink, almost like he's done this a million times before.

Which he has...]

Wanna watch somethin', or are you more in the mood for chatting, hm?

[Lucina follows, still wondering about those softer edges that Guzma's expression can have, wondering about whether or not they're truly rare for how easily they set on his face. maybe he's this way around his gang -- that family he's claimed. maybe it's just rare to her because of their dreadful first impressions...

unlike Guzma, she takes a more careful seat at the opposite end, her glass carefully held on her knees with both hands, herself only just slightly slouched forward, as if relaxing any further would be a mistake. another flutter in her chest helps make the point that she really doesn't know how to proceed, or whether one thing or the other is right.]

If...you do have a topic you're interested in, I wouldn't mind discussing it at all. [because even as out-of-her-element as she is? TV is...so...so boring. she'd die rapidly.]

Edited 2019-09-30 01:39 (UTC)

[Guzma watches her as she sits, eyebrow quirked. He's far from surprised at it, he expects her to sit like that, but it doesn't make it look any less stiff. He does take note of her opting against watching something. Not that he minds, but he does idly wonder how strange or boring TV must be to someone from her era.]

Tell me about you and Arch. [He offers easily enough with a gesture of his free hand.] You're so fond of him, but it ain't like I know much about your guys' relationship or nothin'.

[Hell, Lucina knows more about Guzma's and Archie's relationship than Guzma knows about her and Archie. Just earlier was the first confirmation for him that the two were friends. He had his suspicions, but it's not like he's talked to Archie about Lucina, or vice versa.]

Ah...

[her mouth quirks as she hesitates, looking down at her lap.]

Of all the people I've come to know in this world, he's one of the few I've known the longest...and seems to know me best. It wasn't a very easy start, either... [her eyes wince, recalling the disaster of that January. she's not sure that's wholly her tale to tell, though, especially with how it affected Archie. she takes another sip while considering that, ultimately opting to keep the details to herself.]

He's helped me get a better footing in this place. And...well, of all those older than me, he was one of the few who really seemed to take me seriously and not condescend. [she shakes her head a little.] My...being younger, being from somewhere without the technologies of this world...maybe it does make me naive to some degree. But even if it does, Archie doesn't hold that against me.

[her expression softens to something more somber.]

And of all the people I've known...he's worked the hardest to do better. Be better. I can't help but be inspired by that. I really believe in him. And...he believes in me, too. [even when she doesn't deserve it.]

[Guzma watches as she talks, periodically taking drinks of his rum. Looking over her body language, the little shifts in her expression, listening to the tones of her voice. He catches that wince, but doesn't remark, just takes note of it. He's not one to pry, not really, but he's one to observe.

By the end of it, Guzma's finishing his glass, and he nods.]

He's real good about that, huh?

[Helping, not being condescending, stabilizing... He's a great deal as to why Guzma could get his own footing here and didn't feel entirely alone in an totally new world.

Now that he's thinking about it, he probably owes more to Archie than he really fully realized. In a sense, he knew. Why else would he have gone after Archer like he had, or offered to keep Archer off Archie's ass so he could have a relatively peaceful life with Niko? Why else was he willing to sacrifice so much to give Archie the peace he deserved..?

Generosity and kindness does not come naturally to Guzma, at least not anymore. It really takes someone who inspires him for it to come forth like that, and he supposes Archie's become that in a strange way. Certainly not what he expected when they first met. When Archie tried to kick him in the fucking dick, and it didn't go as planned.

Thank you, diamond carapace.]

I really don't get why he's doing that. Tryin' to be better, I mean. [Guzma shifts in his seat a little, sitting more upright than the slump he had been doing.] It don't change nothing, don't make anything go away.

He's still suffering, ain't he?

[Then Guzma stands, turning towards the kitchen. He raises his glass so Lucina can see it over his shoulder as he heads towards the kitchen, a silent explanation that he's getting more.]

[Lucina frowns, watching him wander his way back into the kitchen. changes nothing, he says? that's hardly true. she straightens up a little with a beat of indignation, made a bit more difficult to diffuse with the way the drink is settling in her head. and speaking of drink -- is it supposed to make your fingers tingly? she wonders if she ought to even ask.

she's squinting at the remains of her glass when he returns, finishing it off when he plops back down, and making a judgmental face at it when she's done with it.]

Nothing never goes away. [...wait.] Ever goes away. But there can be healing in an effort to improve.

Like this! [she very suddenly puts the glass down to hold her hand out in front of her, sitting at the edge of the cushion.] When my hand got injured! Bad impact from a Risen axe. The strain still comes up, now and then...but it'd be worse if I didn't do anything to get better. Handling, I mean. Taking impacts. [?? ? ? ?? ?? ? what?

she draws her hand back to herself, looking embarrassed for a beat before she shoots a look over at Guzma, frowning.]

...I don't want to talk about this right now. I'm not very eloquent. And you'll just make me sound more foolish!

[As Lucina goes on to explain her...point, Guzma's just watching her. He's pretty damn sure the alcohol is hitting her already, while he's barely even touching being buzzed himself. But, that's what drinking recreationally will do. He doesn't say anything the whole time, just lets her...do what she's doing, and then when she gets embarrassed, and says that last bit, he quirks an eyebrow.]

We ain't gotta talk about it if you don't wanna, but I wasn't gonna try to make you sound foolish.

[I mean, she's kinda got that down on her own, amirite?

But, in a way, what she says makes some sense to him. He gets her point, at least, but he's of the mind that physical things are a little bit easier to mend than emotional. Not a bad metaphor, just not entirely equivalent.]

For what it's worth, I didn't think you sounded dumb or nothin'.

[it definitely is drink that makes her expressions so much more animated than usual, and it's why she looks plainly suspicious when he says that.]

You don't think anything I do is worthwhile. Didn't you say that before? [she's pretty sure he did. maybe not in those exact words. it doesn't matter. well, it does, but also it doesn't? she shakes her head.] Never mind. I don't want to talk about that, either.

[she picks up her glass, frowns at it, then stands up. she squints back at Guzma, then looks over toward the kitchen. he just sat down.

no mind. she can do this herself. she watched, so she can probably replicate. it's fine. off she goes.]

[Well, seems the alcohol is definitely bringing out something in her. Guzma's not sure if this is a good or bad thing? After all, she always seemed so...restrained around him. Like she wants to say something, but doesn't. It made him want to agitate her, and get a reaction, or something! But that also muddled some of what he was trying to convey to her before too.

Most of it likely seemed like pointless antagonizing, and with what she says, he realizes that's likely what she thought it was. He frowns as she gets up, watching her with a sullen expression as she makes her way to the kitchen. For a moment, he considers just letting her do it on her own--but then decides against it.

Putting his own drink down, he follows her into the kitchen.]

You good?

[He actually really wants to talk about the previous topic, kinda badly, but at the same time he knows how useless deep conversations can be with drunks. He's a career one, after all.]

...That was rude of me. Snapping like that. I'm sorry.

[hindsight feels a lot heavier than usual when it hits, and she's lingering at the table with a pained expression. it isn't fair to visit someone's home and criticize them for being critical! she knows that. she sighs a little, pouring rum, then stopping abruptly.]

I can leave. If I'm making a nuisance of myself. I can't fault you for that at all.

[That catches him entirely off guard, and it's apparent with how he's gawking at her a little. He's...not used to being apologized to like this. From his grunts is one thing, this is quite another. It's like it'll never get easier to deal with, for some reason. Probably because he always expects the worst of people. So when something genuine like this happens, he's left a little besides himself.

Once he regains himself, he shrugs his shoulders, casual and unbothered.]

Nah, it's cool. I know we got our history of buttin' heads. Booze can kinda loosen your lips on shit y'been bottlin' up, and to be real with you, it's been a li'l obvious y'been doin' that a lot 'round me.

[His eyes falls to her glass and the small amount of rum in it, before looking at her again.]

But I don't think everything you do ain't worthwhile.

[it's weird how something can be both unnerving and comforting. like being so easily absolved of a wrongdoing. Lucina frowns, finishing the pouring she was doing, her ears burning a bit with his remarks. being aware she's being looked at has that same two-sided effect, and it's not something she's sure how to react to.

not thinking...not everything...'ain't' worthwhile? she squints a little, dragging the mixer over toward her side of the table.]

I'm...not sure I know what you mean.

[is she just going to pour some of this strawberry stuff in? yes. the mug-thing looked like a lot of work that she can forego if it's all going down the same way.]

[As Guzma starts to explain, he's definitely watching her as she's pouring in the mix. It's... fine, but it just means she's going to have the srawberry flavoring at the bottom. It'll be...something.]

...Just 'cos I don't agree with your whole hero shtick, don't mean I can't see its merits.

[He crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the door frame.]

Helping people out, protectin' those who ain't capable of protecting themselves, fighting for those who can't...yeah, I get it.

[After all, it's what he does for Team Skull. The difference being that Team Skull is his community. His family. But doing all of that for random strangers? People who haven't proven their loyalty? It doesn't really make sense to him, but he can see why someone would do it, theoretically.]

'Sides, you've kinda proved to be different than the others, so there's that too.

[she peers over his way while bringing the glass to her lips, watching his face. it's probably telling that even here and now, she still expects him to reveal he's been just stringing her along to better hurt her, that here'll be some hint of cruelty in his features.

it's just as telling that there isn't any, and that...she's relieved for it.

she makes a faint, acknowledging sound before taking a drink and almost immediately regretting it, one eye squeezing shut as her expression pinches against the taste. she'll own her mistake regardless, gulping and setting the glass down rather quickly. the merit of the shaking-part...she understands it much better now, thank you.

she coughs a little to clear her throat, embarrassed, shaking her head.]

We-well. I...I'm relieved to hear it. To not...be a complete joke in your eyes.

[Okay, it's really hard not to laugh at her blunder, but he's trying. His mouth twists as he tries to keep back that smirk that's threatening to appear. Laughing is probably not the best thing he can do when she just said what she did, so he's really trying to keep back that bubble of laughter in his throat.

Really, really trying.]

I ain't ever thought you were a joke. [The waver in his voice might be betraying his actual sincerity here.] Just wasn't sure how real you were with this shit.

A lot of folks on your side of things put up a good front. When they're really no better than a reject like me. All they do is hide it.

[she side-eyes him, squinting at that look of effort not to laugh. she could accuse him of lying, but to be fair...she's sure she looks very ridiculous right now. it's probably warranted. she's more convinced of that as her own mouth twitches, trying to quirk in a similar fashion.]

It would seem to me...to be a lot of work, in that case. More than I could care to put up.

[that lack of front...maybe that's why she can take him at his word? even when she has doubts, they don't seem to last very long or hold up much at all. it's harder to really imagine the benefit of lying to her in this case, anyway.

but that makes hearing things like reject like me a more troubling thing. something else to ruminate over in her troubled heart.]

Well... [she sighs, looking back down at her glass.] I am also really bad at preparing a drink properly. There is that, too.

[He shrugs, finally letting that smirk settle into his face.]

Egotists will do anything to maintain their image, yo. It's kinda incredible the lengths they'll go to convince people they're somethin' they ain't.

[Hilarious coming from Guzma, but look he's selectively self-aware. His calling himself a reject wasn't even meant to inspire some deeper thought in Lucina, he just knows it's what he is. He embraces it, wears it like some sort of badge of honor.]

Gimme that. [He pushes off the frame and crosses over to her, offering to take her glass with one hand, while he grabs the mug he used earlier.]

There's a reason I did it the way I did earlier. Otherwise it settles at the bottom.

[her nose crinkles just a little bit.] For all the technological wonders of this age, food and drink still takes such work sometimes. [she shakes her head.] For example -- you know that the things that are advertised as able to be re-heated in a microwave can come packaged in materials that blow up in the microwave? [just the most ridiculous thing!]

[He's listening as he mixes her drink, nodding along, less so because he's agreeing but more so because he's just listening—and then she gets to her point. He stops shaking her drink and just...kinda stares at her.

Then he snorts.]

You—you're supposed to take 'em out. You ain't readin' the direction first?

[He's utterly charmed right now. But man, at the same time, who's to say a drunk or high Guzma hasn't tried to make hot cocoa through microwaving his world's version of a can of Yoo-hoo? he really doesn't have room to talk.]

Edited 2019-09-30 22:17 (UTC)

[she flushes, scoffing.]

I'd not have assumed there would need to be direction in such a case! It's not very intuitive, is it? Especially when other materials manage just fine...!

[it wasn't her proudest moment, but at least the foil wrapping on that sandwich was only on fire for a little bit before she noticed. it's not like she could've asked Owain for guidance, either; he tended to just...blow his food up with magic. a lot.

she's only slightly offended by the mirth on his expression, because it's honestly a boon even if it comes at the expense of her pride. still, she pulls a stern face, swiping the glass back when he's done shaking it up and takes another hearty sip. it's much better now, and not being as apprehensive about it helps.

she turns on her heel, moving back toward the living room of her own accord, her eyes trailing around and at-last taking note of the absence of takeout and other things that'd been littered about in days prior. gods. she really needs to pick up her own place...]

Where are your friends, by-the-by? [she glances over before sitting back down.] Your Pokemon, I mean. Do they often prefer being housed in their balls, rather than roam about?

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