Post your character. Post a prompt or leave it blank and let others post a prompt. Find your prompts here. or at any of the various fandom blogs If you want to search for a specific phrase, or pick a random strip, go here. Tag. Enjoy.
[Having an ingrained predisposition for getting into everyone else's business while shutting away your own is a decent excuse for a teenager who's better accustomed to unnatural gravity than smoke-filled, carcinogenic air to be stepping into a club. Seeing a familiar face lounging at the bar is just as good an excuse not to leave, at least not without saying hello.]
Say, Petre. [He says it incorrectly on purpose, naturally; natural even as he slumps onto the stool at the man's side and his elbows hit the counter with a heavy thud. It's always nice to know that there are non-Dorssians out there, so different even in name, that they're not trying to kill, just yet.
Despite the heaviness of his shoulders, he rests his cheek on a palm and faces Petre with the same easy smile he would any other time.]
Next round's on me if you fill me in on what the strongest stuff here's called.
[There aren't many opportunities to drink alcohol between raids on JIOR and the occasional pitstop on the moon -- his palate is better suited to tea with too much sugar, something that seems as cultured as it is sickly and childish. Still, with the lingering sting of a well-aimed slap still niggling at a reddened cheek, H-neun figures it's as close as he's going to get to the appropriate timing -- and to someone who won't cuss him out for an innocent proposition.
That Petre looks as in need of a distraction as he is as well is pure, fortunate coincidence.]
[He's not surprised to see him; the greeting is met without a smile or a frown, and instead Petre just looks like he's right in his environment and someone just stepped into it for a lesson or two. Which he's perfectly fine with; he loves to show off.
[It has to be the beginning to a good dynamic; there's no other person he'd trust to let him get drunk, let alone touch a drop of liquor, while he's still boasting his uniform. Something about 'professionalism' and 'being a good role model' and 'didn't you graduate from the academy?' doesn't seem to suit Petre, of all people.
It almost makes him laugh.]
Hm? If you're challenging me, then I'll have to, won't I?
[That's a good thing, because Petre wouldn't give a shit either way. Role model? Let him just see how much he can corrupt that notion.]
Sounds about right to me.
[He looks at the bartender - and it seems like they know each other already - signaling with two fingers before he brings in two shots of a green drink.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
（・◇・）/
Say, Petre. [He says it incorrectly on purpose, naturally; natural even as he slumps onto the stool at the man's side and his elbows hit the counter with a heavy thud. It's always nice to know that there are non-Dorssians out there, so different even in name, that they're not trying to kill, just yet.
Despite the heaviness of his shoulders, he rests his cheek on a palm and faces Petre with the same easy smile he would any other time.]
Next round's on me if you fill me in on what the strongest stuff here's called.
[There aren't many opportunities to drink alcohol between raids on JIOR and the occasional pitstop on the moon -- his palate is better suited to tea with too much sugar, something that seems as cultured as it is sickly and childish. Still, with the lingering sting of a well-aimed slap still niggling at a reddened cheek, H-neun figures it's as close as he's going to get to the appropriate timing -- and to someone who won't cuss him out for an innocent proposition.
That Petre looks as in need of a distraction as he is as well is pure, fortunate coincidence.]
no subject
And get people drunk.]
Think you can handle it, pretty boy?
no subject
It almost makes him laugh.]
Hm? If you're challenging me, then I'll have to, won't I?
no subject
Sounds about right to me.
[He looks at the bartender - and it seems like they know each other already - signaling with two fingers before he brings in two shots of a green drink.]
I call it Tinkerbell.