Dalliance [OPEN]

Work was so incredibly boring as of late. After solving the riddles of putting a goddamn wormhole beneath the doormat of the Seireitei without anyone noticing –no easy task and there might have been an intern (only one!) that spent a few nights (Ezekiel’s time) in the Dangai, without every knowing that project he was “helping” with –things had been back to the usually: data recording, note taking, sleeping on his keyboard. Even the Faith system had been acting normally –a Christmas miracle in and of itself –leaving even Ezekiel’s most covert projects essentially complete comparatively.

It had been a little while since Ezekiel had really had the time to consider unwinding with the fellows of his division. He and Koudai had been taking a break from each other’s presence after the grind that was getting the DAGU online. Reima was skulking around somewhere… Ezekiel wasn’t exactly sure what had happened to him. Hisui, he had barely spoken to her since she had gotten acclimated and bogged down with whatever it was she was working on.

These factors made the decision to shirk work and drag as many people down with him as he could, an easy one. After changing into a pair of jeans and a simple grey t-shirt, he began to run through the numbers in his phone. Apparently, Hisui had been of a similar mindset (the only one of his squadmates), and before long they had found themselves wedged into the corner of a dimly lit affair, hammering back drinks in broad daylight.

He had settled into a nice buzz, playing with the ice in his glass with a now-numb fingertip, joking about the little scuffle for the ownership of the Third Division and the ripple effect that had had on their own branch, when Hisui had suddenly exclaimed (but in a hushed sort of way) something about getting fucked on Kenshou’s desk. Uncertain as to what she meant (but mentally responding with a “maybe someday”), Ezekiel glanced around until he saw the man that had captured her attention so. It took him a moment to see the resemblance, but it was definitely there. Ezekiel himself knew little of the Minamoto other than Shun, but most people did not seem all that fond of his sibling.

He assumed this was the one.

Ezekiel tipped back in his seat to get a better look at the man, taking a slow sip of his gin and tonic as he scanned him nonchalantly.

“ Oh, you know me.” He spoke plainly, as if he did not realize he was saying anything comical, despite what they knew to be the case. “I’m not much of a betting man myself.” He turned back to Hisui and propped his chin on the back of his wrist, fingers still clutching the lowball glass from the top. He tipped his head to the side and finally allowed the grin to spread across his face, his eyes barely able to contain the humor that he found in the situation.

“But, if I was, I’d say he’s about a six drink kinda guy.” He waited patiently as the server made his way back, giving Ezekiel plenty of time to think up something suitable to send the Minamoto’s way (It was going to be hard to top Hisui’s). Once he was there, Ezekiel politely spelled out a list of ingredients to him, gave him the name, and ordered a round of shots (vodka) for their own table.

If Ezekiel hadn’t already had several drinks himself, he might not have even participated. After all, he didn’t even know the Minamoto, much less have anything against him or his family. In fact, he owed his brother his life. But, when in Rome, one was supposed to do as the Romans did, and when out for drinks with Hisui it was likely best not to question her unexplained vendettas.

“So, Hisui. What’s your bet? And are we going by ‘Price is Right’ rules or not?” He chuckled as he took the shot from the edge of the table and tipped it back, exhaling violently as the fiery clear liquor ran down his throat and into his stomach. He took a moment to gather himself before speaking again, always keeping his voice low enough so that it wouldn’t be heard by anyone else. “Besides, what makes ya wanna pick on the little guy anyways?”

As he finished, the bartender could be heard in the background: “And this one’s a… uh… ‘A Nice Piece of Ass’… For you…”

Words: 755 (Total: 755)

GP: 15 (Total: 15)

Ezekiel snickered to himself as the barely-robed minamoto slid into their booth, obviously tipped off by the less-than-honorable bartender. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and Ezekiel honestly couldn’t say that he felt any different about the night, though Shinpei did seem to rub Hisui the wrong way on a level that Ezekiel couldn’t even imagine anyone other than the aforementioned Reima doing.

“As sweet as that would be, I can’t imagine that putting those two together would result in anything less than a headache for me.” Ezekiel grimaced at the thought of Reima having relationship issues thrown on top of the already expansive list of things that could potentially cause him to start the day irritable. It wasn’t so hard to hide out in the lab and pretend he didn’t exist, but he was one of the few people who was unafraid to just barge into Ezekiel’s dark domicile and “check up on things.”

“I’d rather deal with the sand, personally.”

He chuckled and tipped back his glass. Personally, Ezekiel had nothing against the guy, other than the smug look on his face that just screamed “punchable” in every living language. But, if Hisui wanted to fuck with the runt, then Ezekiel was game. He didn’t need much of a reason to harass nobility, if he was being honest.

The voices in Ezekiel’s head were abnormally quiet, all things considered. And there were drinks to be had, and despite how girly and fruity they were. Free alcohol was free alcohol.

“Now, now, Miss Hiss, why do you have it in for this guy so hard? I owe his brother my life.” Ezekiel’s tone was unreadably semi-serious. Mocking at the same time that it was literal. He took a long sip of the obnoxiously fruit syrup concoction. Absolutely horrible, but he wasn’t going to let it go to waste under any circumstance. “Besides, he has bought us drinks. Seems awefully stand-up to me.” He smirked and initiated something of a toast with the red-head.

“Nothing wrong with slumming or bird-watching, anyways.” He smiled and leaned back into his seat, throwing an arm over the back of the booth.

Words: 358 (Total: 1,113)

GP: 7 (Total: 22)

“Yes, there’s another, but he’s far less flamboyant.” Ezekiel swirled what little was left of his glass as he chuckled to Hisui. Gone already, despite being a less than desirable drink. What next? If they were keeping with sexual themes, perhaps a red-headed slut? Nah. The Jagermeister would be nice, but Hisui would probably clock him just for giving Shinpei the opportunity to comment on that.  Alcohol continued to dance about the forefront of Ezekiel’s mind. It was easier than letting those freshly dredged up memories of The Massacre take over.

Tipping back in his seat, Ezekiel stared lazily upwards, as though he were in sincere contemplation. “Not sure where I heard that one first. Reima, maybe? Yeah. It must have been Rei.” A flat out lie, but he wanted to see if she’d get all frazzled with him about it. What were friends for if not giving each other hell? Ezekiel had no idea.

Accepting the toast with what little he had left, Ezekiel smirked and took another opportunity to poke fun. “I think she has snagged a few things with them in the past.” He glanced up and away, muttering the next word under his breath. “Piercings~…”

As for what they were doing in the bar, he let Hisui take the lead. “Getting snockered” didn’t sound so proper, but it was the only answer that he could come up with at the time. “Yup. This is cereal science business. The only reason we’re downing all these drinks is because we forgot our glassware in the lab. Need some beakers and what-not.” He concurred with her statements, upping the ridiculousness to an eleven while wiggling the empty cup.

After completely ignoring his squad-mate’s comments about sloppiness, Ezekiel made somewhat-related conversation. “I’m not much one for bird-watching here. People with extended life-spans seem to get somewhat up-tight. At least, most of them do. I just never seem to have any actual luck. Maybe one day you should write a book and share your secrets.”

He motioned over the server and asked what sorts of dark beers they had available, stouts and black lagers, while he let the other two continue to shoot forehead lightning at one another.

Words: 367 (Total: 1,480)

GP: 7 (Total: 29)