Jade Curtiss (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bootsweremadeforcasting) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
vatheon2013-02-28 02:18 am
bootsweremadeforcasting) wrote in vatheon2013-02-28 02:18 am
Entry tags:
My dragon is still angry
Who: Jade Curtiss and Peony Malkuth
Where: The Apartment
When: February 28, evening
Style: Prose or action. Whichever!
Status: Closed!
Funny things, those near-death, almost-took-three-others-out-with-you experiences; they got to you. They got to you in a way that maybe you didn't think possible. Maybe because there you are, living life, and then suddenly, you're swept into a bubble under the sea and your best friend is there too, and there's a lot of cognac in your system.
He rarely drank. Honestly, it was a matter of self-control and availability rather than anything else. He had no addictive personality to worry about or social pressures to concern himself with. No, drinking was something he did when he wanted to be left alone and with his thoughts, oddly enough; and boy did Jade have a lot to think about.
He'd been avoiding Peony, that was for sure. He didn't want the man involved in the first place, and yet, that had been all he could remember when he came to. Peony's worried expression and the part about kicking his ass or something equally Peony-esque. He resented him a bit for not having this problem, not having to be in control all the time.
How many glasses was that? What ever.
But no, Jade had put this all on himself. The eyes, the spear, the replicas, the guilt; everything was his fault somehow. Maybe he should drink more often.
After being accused of drinking Vatheon itself, Jade left the bar and decided to head home. He hoped Peony was off doing some Host Club thing because he was certainly not as steady as he would have liked nor in a perfect modd to see the other just yet. His vision is doing somersaults with his stomach, and his legs feel like lead weights and balloons at the same time. His head is spinning like a top and the hands in his pockets can't stay still.
He worried about Peony. About his stress, about his life, about both of their lives. Peony with his decrees and needing a baby, and then all the council hopping on him (that was a funny mental image. Jade snickered to himself). And then Jade who had to run those stupid errands. 'Go save the world from destroying itself Jade' 'go kidnap the Fon master Jade" OKay... The Fon master was his idea, but what was he supposed to do? Finding Luke was luck and...
When did he get to that tangent?
Well, he was here and the main point was that he didn't even want to see Peony. He didn't want to man up and admit that he had done wrong. He should have communicated, he should have spoken up, mentioned the danger. He should have relied on someone else.
Jade broke into raucous laughter as he opened the door to the apartment. Leaning on someone. What a silly notion. Peony was a friend, a comrade in arms, hardly a step stool or a cane. He stumbled into the first part of the living space and there was a jumbled mess of words before he finally spat out the other's name with markedly less confidence and more fervor than necessary.
"Pe'ny!" he's trying to focus and find Peony's room. it's going better than expected, considering he didn't want to be there. He didn't want to admit his wrong. He didn't want to lean on Peony for moral support every time he stumped his toe. He didn't even remember of the last few weeks how much he'd seen the Emperor, if at all.
Jade was finally at Peony's door.
"I did some'hing wrong..." Step one down, the rest to go. But he's not mentioning them yet and just leaning haphazardly on the doorframe.
"Cognac is the window to the soul, but I don't feel like lookin' righ' now."
Where: The Apartment
When: February 28, evening
Style: Prose or action. Whichever!
Status: Closed!
Funny things, those near-death, almost-took-three-others-out-with-you experiences; they got to you. They got to you in a way that maybe you didn't think possible. Maybe because there you are, living life, and then suddenly, you're swept into a bubble under the sea and your best friend is there too, and there's a lot of cognac in your system.
He rarely drank. Honestly, it was a matter of self-control and availability rather than anything else. He had no addictive personality to worry about or social pressures to concern himself with. No, drinking was something he did when he wanted to be left alone and with his thoughts, oddly enough; and boy did Jade have a lot to think about.
He'd been avoiding Peony, that was for sure. He didn't want the man involved in the first place, and yet, that had been all he could remember when he came to. Peony's worried expression and the part about kicking his ass or something equally Peony-esque. He resented him a bit for not having this problem, not having to be in control all the time.
How many glasses was that? What ever.
But no, Jade had put this all on himself. The eyes, the spear, the replicas, the guilt; everything was his fault somehow. Maybe he should drink more often.
After being accused of drinking Vatheon itself, Jade left the bar and decided to head home. He hoped Peony was off doing some Host Club thing because he was certainly not as steady as he would have liked nor in a perfect modd to see the other just yet. His vision is doing somersaults with his stomach, and his legs feel like lead weights and balloons at the same time. His head is spinning like a top and the hands in his pockets can't stay still.
He worried about Peony. About his stress, about his life, about both of their lives. Peony with his decrees and needing a baby, and then all the council hopping on him (that was a funny mental image. Jade snickered to himself). And then Jade who had to run those stupid errands. 'Go save the world from destroying itself Jade' 'go kidnap the Fon master Jade" OKay... The Fon master was his idea, but what was he supposed to do? Finding Luke was luck and...
When did he get to that tangent?
Well, he was here and the main point was that he didn't even want to see Peony. He didn't want to man up and admit that he had done wrong. He should have communicated, he should have spoken up, mentioned the danger. He should have relied on someone else.
Jade broke into raucous laughter as he opened the door to the apartment. Leaning on someone. What a silly notion. Peony was a friend, a comrade in arms, hardly a step stool or a cane. He stumbled into the first part of the living space and there was a jumbled mess of words before he finally spat out the other's name with markedly less confidence and more fervor than necessary.
"Pe'ny!" he's trying to focus and find Peony's room. it's going better than expected, considering he didn't want to be there. He didn't want to admit his wrong. He didn't want to lean on Peony for moral support every time he stumped his toe. He didn't even remember of the last few weeks how much he'd seen the Emperor, if at all.
Jade was finally at Peony's door.
"I did some'hing wrong..." Step one down, the rest to go. But he's not mentioning them yet and just leaning haphazardly on the doorframe.
"Cognac is the window to the soul, but I don't feel like lookin' righ' now."