queenoflogs | sorry old man, but that's just the way that it is

Entry tags:

sorry old man, but that's just the way that it is

Characters: Tifa, and you!!! (sob open log finally...)
Date: Um...to...day? Maybe a little later in the evening. We'll say 5 pm-ish?
Summary: Mostly just...hanging out in the Seventh Heaven. Actionspam/prose is fine. You can make a thread with the intent of talking to Tifa or you can make your own threads. I don't care, go wild. If your character is tiny it's okay for them to visit! Tifa can cook for them. Or give them fruit juice, or mother them incessantly.
Warnings: Should be none! If there are any, I will update when necessary. Keep in mind any bar brawls can and will be broken up, and violently, by Tifa herself. That doesn't mean they can't happen, but they will be stopped.

Today had been a slow day, but Tifa didn't mind the silence, broken in intervals by the outside noises, the soft sounds of nature winding down for the night. She wondered, idly, if she should play the piano to join in. It had been a long time since she'd been surrounded by so much nature. It was a little overwhelming, at times. She was reminded of leaving Midgar after years of being under the oppressive Plate, of being shown the sudden clarity of clear, boundless blue skies. It felt like she was falling, as if the ground would disappear beneath her feet. She felt a lot like that, lately.

Without anyone around to break up the monotony of the evening, Tifa distracted herself by cooking, taking inventory, anything to keep her busy. There were so many different kinds of liquor, stuff she'd never even used before. She'd been entertaining herself during her downtime by figuring out what went well together. She never was one to drink much herself, but figuring out new mixes was something she'd always enjoyed.

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Given the fact that this day had been rather slow, Emilia had taken the chance to go to the library once more and try to dig out some book that wasn't erotic poetry or lesbian literature. It's not that she had something against it, but it was boring her. In fact, if she wasn't so averse to wish making, she would probably have wished for a bunch of books by now.

She returned with two books in her hand, walking into the Seventh Heaven quietly and leaving the door open so that people wouldn't figure it closed.

"Tifa? Are you here?" She called out, setting the books on the counter and shrugging off her jacket, folding it over her arm to then hang it on the wall. "I'm back."

She walked to the kitchen and peeked inside to find Tifa entertaining herself with making new mixes (or so she figured by the looks of it). She smiled at her and walked over to see what she was making, leaning her arms on the table.

"New inventions?" She asked as she reached for a bowl of hazelnuts, taking a couple in her hand to chew on something.

For Tsukasa, it had just been one of those days. Pixie had wanted to play tag out in the garden for hours, and, despite all logic telling her it was a bad idea, Tsukasa went along for the ride.

By the end of the game, she found herself shocked by several Zio spells, smacked on the forehead a number of times, and in general just very tiered from having been running around aimlessly for hours on end.

Given the days happenings, Tsukasa didn't know, or care,, what kind of establishment the Seventh Heaven was, and thus was more then happy to slip in and sit for a moment to catch her breath.

At the current moment she can be found sitting at a table fiddling with her ever present COMP.

"Hey, kid." Reno pulls up a chair, dragging it across the floor rather loudly and roughly before plopping herself down in it. She's bored, so she figures she might as well talk to some of the other people in here. "What's that you're messing with?"

"Hey there." Tsukasa more then happy to simply have someone to talk to who wouldn't shock and/or burn her alive for saying the wrong thing. "It's a COMP, it's kind of like a personal computer mixed with a hand-held video game."

Reno might shock someone for saying the wrong thing, but probably not some random kid. "Oh yeah, my phone's kinda like that. Not that I have it on me. Disappeared when I showed up here."

She leans in closer. "You got any good games on that thing?"

"Not really, I mostly used it for E-mail and other net stuff back home." She said closing the COMP's clamshell lid. "But, it's only really useful for managing my demons here."

"Demons, huh?" A kid with demons. Well, that's not the weirdest thing ever. "So it's like a Summon Materia, too? What do you do with the demons, fight people?"

"Well, back home, the city I live in is currently under a lock down by the government due an invasion of demons" She said with more then an aura of stoicism. "So, making contracts with and summoning demons is the only way to survive.

"That sucks. Had something like that back where I'm from, a week or so ago, but it wasn't a quarantine situation." A government employee herself, Reno assumed the lock down was probably a good idea. "Just a bunch of demon monsters we had to kill."

Jules was right. When Reno asked the cat to take her to wherever the bar was, it trotted off right away, and Reno followed. She felt kind of stupid, trailing a little orange cat, but she wasn't going to be so proud that she'd let pride keep her from the promise of hard liquor.

When she saw the bar, she stopped short, forgetting all about the cat. She blinked. It was--familiar. More than familiar. She'd been there just a week or so ago. Though it couldn't be the same one, since that bar was in Edge, not in the middle of some freaky sex garden. What the hell. Things kept getting weirder. Great.

Under ordinary circumstances, Reno wasn't welcome in this particular bar, but right now she didn't care about that, especially as these weren't ordinary circumstances. So she went right in.

"Hey, Tifa. You in here?"

Finding a bar had been one of the best things that had happened to Rico since she'd gotten here. Which wasn't especially saying much, considering she was plopped into some fairy tale bullshit against her will, but at least she could get liquored up enough not to care. So she found herself, once again, sitting at a bar stool, just relaxing.

How was she going to get home? What must her comrades have thought back in Emerald City? And was this really Gay-opolis like she'd been told? All questions that became largely irrelevant with a good bottle of whiskey in one hand and a shot glass in the other. She poured herself another shot, briefly admiring the shimmering, dark amber liquid as she held it up to her eyes. Then she threw it back, with a sigh of pleasure at the faint burn.

She probably didn't look overly friendly, this one, hunched against the bar, robotic hand curled around the base of a liquor bottle. Her eyes stare a thousand miles away. But that never stopped anyone from bothering her before, and it probably won't this time.

Quietness and unfriendliness do very little to deter a bored and liquored up Reno.

"Hey. Nice arm. I know a guy with one like that." She pauses. "Two guys. Yours doesn't turn into a gun, does it?"

Rico slowly turned her head, expression still frosty and unapproachable. Not that it seemed to be doing her any good. At the question, she glanced down at her arm, flexing the fingers slowly with a slight whirring of servos.

"A gun? Nah. Just hits people real good." It's not delivered as a threat, but the subtle implication was there, should someone look for it.

"Good. Looks like it." Reno nodded as she looked the arm over appreciatively, impervious to frost and subtle implications. She wasn't too worried about getting punched. Speed was her specialty, and fists and swords weren't as hard to dodge as bullets. Bullets were a lot faster and traveled farther. "I got shot with that gun arm once. Wasn't the greatest feeling, let me tell you."

She laughed. "So, you come here often? Or just when you get kidnapped?"

If anything, Rico just seemed to exude an even more prickly aura when the stranger started looking at her arm so intently. Usually, she wouldn't have minded being checked out by a redhead, but this wasn't quite what she had in mind. "I bet not."

"Aw, yeah, me and this place are old friends," she said, perfectly deadpan.

Like most professionals, Reno was interested in hardware, but if it wasn't her personal hardware, her enthusiasm was limited. Robot arms: seen them already. It had been a conversation starter, but now that the conversation was started, Reno leaned up against the bar, trying to get a better look at the rest of the woman, as well as the parts that were probably more interesting. If she noticed the decrease in temperature, she didn't seem to care.

"Yeah, I bet, you look like you're having such a great time," she deadpanned in return. "I just got here myself."

If anything, Rico seemed to relax a little at being checked out more traditionally. That tended to be her preferred way to be looked at. Drawing curiosity and gapes for being so starkly different was more obnoxious, but if a cute girl wanted to sneak a peek, well, who was she to judge.

Rico shrugged at that. "Beer is better than no beer." A sparkling conversationalist, she is not. "Lot of people are new. You want a medal, rosa?"

"Nice philosophy. I'm gonna have to write that down." Reno laughed. This woman was definitely her type--one of her types--but she wasn't sure if she was interested yet.

"I get it. This is some kind of culture shock, since we're all from different fucked up places. Where I'm from, when people meet up, they tell each other stuff about each other." Back home, most people already knew who she was. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it was fun being somewhere no one knew her. Except Tifa. But she was almost sure that wouldn't present a problem.

"If they handed out medals for getting kidnapped, I'd hand it right back." Maybe her professional pride should have been wounded, but there was weird magic involved. "Not that I'd want a medal for anything. I don't need a little piece of gold to tell me what I've done."

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[for Tifa, but anyone else feel free to reply as well]

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