synflux | ( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

[ When you're in the continued presence of good people, it's easy to forget who you really are. A vice here. A vice there. Little sneaks away that would never hurt to fulfill the occasional impulse, that's how he'd gotten away with pretending and thinking he was just like any one of them. Despite how it appeared, restraint was one of the things Elysium knew well when it counted.

But there's a tingle that goes down his spine at the ghost of a kiss. Elysium resists the urge to shudder. Two years since he'd been infected, was it? Two years since his life was no longer his own. His eyes will narrow almost dangerously. The barest of a hint, then, that something in there might snap. Like the many masks the man before him has presented—blink, and he could've very well missed it. ]

Hear hear. [ His voice remains as inscrutably light and airy: ] To our new venture indeedy.

[ His eyes close as he tips his glass to his own lips—holding it there for the same meaningful few seconds as allows his lips to quirk upwards. An answer. A response. Whatever Sampo's reaction to it might be doesn't matter when in the grand scheme of things, their game is officially on. Tossing it back it is, the distinct sear much like a seal. ]

[The word "restraint" is anathema to a Fool. It may be precisely why Giovanni back then had sought to question those strange lines he made in the metaphorical sand to never cross - no judgement from him, but Sampo could tell that it must have felt like seeing someone put himself in their own little cage. Nothing would push him out of it if he could help it.]

[Until now. Perhaps. Elysium kisses his own glass in reply. It makes his eyes widen slightly, and then he catches the brief glimmer of someone dancing at the edge. Well now.]

[Absinthe is a strong drink. Fools love it, of course, for its peculiar, chaotic qualities. He doesn't know if he can entirely blame it, though, for the quick but dizzying wave of madness that shoots up his spine and sparks - he would very, very much like to ruin this man.]

[But that word of "restraint" pulls back, and he's enough of an old timer where he settles his own desires back neatly. Perhaps a younger self would've leaped forward to seal the deal with a grabbed fit of hair and a heavy press against the counter. Now, he knows the game is important, too. Even if its worth nothing in the end, elation was to be found in the nooks and crannies of conversations like this.]

[He laughs, as light and airy as the other's response. His eyes betray nothing, now.]

Do you like it?

[ It's a quiet moment as Elysium polishes off his glass. When the drink runs empty, he reopens his eyes to stare at it blandly. Twirls it in lazy circles, even, as if he hadn't just downed the entirety of one of the strongest spirits around in one go.

Intoxication doesn't happen immediately, Elysium knows. The certain exhilaration that comes from the ingestion of hard liquor is something Elysium knows, too. What he tells himself is that the high is all he needs, the tangible proof that he's alive; there were many other ways to chase the same high or similar highs, but he's content with simply acknowledging it with a degree of detached interest——for now. Being a dying anime man tended to influence your impulse control one way or another, oops!

He sets the glass down before he's regarding Sampo again. ]

The drink itself, or what happens after? [ What a silly question. And yet, Elysium indulges him with a tease anyway. ] The first, well. … You did make it for me, didn't you? How could I not? The second… haha!

[ A laugh that tapers off into an a hum. Elysium is hardly a lightweight or a light drinker, he's pulled himself together for work plenty of times before. But absinthe is particularly interesting for the myths that surround it, when the high it leaves you in is partly contingent on your preconceptions. Were you in control of your thoughts and actions, or were you not? How fun. Unfortunate that Elysium is capable of being surprisingly pragmatic. Also unfortunate that he's capable of identifying the desire to rip Sampo's many guises as entirely his own. ]

Wouldn't you say it's too early to tell?

[ It really isn't. But they can pretend it is, or that the "after" Elysium talks about isn't something as cut and dry as the rest of the evening. ]

[See, this is why he indulged with this in the first place. He would've been more than willing to keep this just a nice little tutorial of mixing a drink, helpful as helpful can be. But this man kept pulling at his strings, poking past the facade (one of many) with those teases and taunts.]

[Even now, with that not-so-straightforward answer, he feels a rush (again, could be the alcohol) that he can't ignore.]

[Would this man be the same way if he truly lost all his inhibitions, or no?]

[Should he pull that particular string?]

It might be too early. You're right. But let me know...let it settle. Spirits have a real weird way of sometimes kicking expectations sometimes.

[A little pause.]

...I'll teach you easier stuff, though. I was showing off. Don't worry. If you feel you can't handle this....no sweat off my back.

[A mildly pointed look and a tilt of the head - might as well ask. Though he wants to think he has a good guess at the answer.]

[ Like the ebb and flow of the ocean, tides eventually come to pass. Following this particular one, Elysium finds himself clearheaded—enough, to wonder, how much of him actually is. But a semblance of normalcy seems to have settled back over them, and he'll decide to go with it as he always has. ]

If you weren't worrying about me after the fact, I might've been touched. But I jest, I'm fine. For the many years I have to go through before I'd consider myself an old soul, I have been around.

[ He can outpace the durins—dwarves of his world, even, but from what he knows that isn't a common standard one could use here. So, all he has to offer by way of a confidence booster is an answering smile and an irreverent wave of his hand. ]

And that would help, wouldn't it? It's not everyday someone would order one of those. Then again, I can't say I know the clientele here all that well yet. If nothing else, I could always just return the favour and make one for you one day. Wouldn't that be nice?

Well, as an old soul myself, its not that its all chalked up to be. Keep hold onto that bright spirit there, Mister Elysium.

[He speaks a little like someone who has been through a possible scenario like this many a time, even though something like this man and his words are admittedly new. That's the joy of life, though. The twists and turns of fate.]

...Hm. [He picks up the absinthe bottle, rolling the liquid in it thoughtfully - the color draws his eyes, who loyally flit back to the other man after a brief pause.] You know...I'd like that a lot, actually. I wonder what I look like from your eyes.

[In drink form, of course.]

… My friend, isn't it a tad too soon for you to be speaking like a withered old man? They say looks can be deceiving, but come on. If you didn't have your spryness to you, you wouldn't be keeping up with me.

[ Ages are a mercurial thing, coming from a world with as many different lifespans as there are species of creatures. It does beg the question of, though, of what experiences this man might be contemplating in calling himself an old soul—an innocent thing, when Elysium is an adventurer at heart and cares to hear tales from lands of all kinds. ]

Consider it done and something to look forward to. [ He meets Sampo's gaze, a spark to it that hadn't been there before. Implicitly, this one might prove to be better than the first that had been put together haphazardly and without thought. Maybe he will finally take a look at the recipe cards. Not much of an excuse not to when you have an eidetic memory, owned entirely to a lack of motivation that per chance has flipped on its head. ]

Incidentally? I'll be looking forward to the belated birthday gift, too.

[ he hasn't forgotten and assumes it will be a thing, yeah. annoying. ]

I'm really not kidding, though! I've seen youngsters out there run miles around me. Ah, the young generation...I've never understand them....

[says a guy who looks no older than like]

[twenty-five]

Oh, I'm already looking forward to it! And....hardy har har. [He pokes the man's shoulder, as if offended, when he's anything but. A gift from this man, in exchange for a celebration of life...well delayed. Makes sense. Maybe.] You keep calling me greedy! But sure. If it was your birthday, then Sampo Koski will come up with something.

[ theatre kid dramatics be like that

but sure, sure. Sampo can have an exasperated snort that can only be read as fond. It's not like he'd meme'd up on the network all day the other day, or anything, and was running miles around them—Sampo has his word that he's forgotten all about it. ]

Is there anything wrong with that? Being a little greedy? [ Sampo pokes his shoulder and he deigns to lean in until they're close and at eye level. A little over two inches taller, but that's all one needs to bring attention to it, hand on table to balance his weight as he does. ] It means I want to spend more time with you, doesn't it?

[ Is that what he'd said when it'd first come up…? Interesting how minutes (and possibly alcohol) can change a dynamic up so abruptly, a gamut of a push and pull, a song and dance, but also Elysium being his entirely honest self. An intentional use of "I," and not "we." Isn't it nice to feel wanted?

And then he pulls back. ]

I'm technically still on shift, you know.

[It's not often he comes across as someone actually taller than him - so something like this, where the man leans in, and he feels small against him, is a relatively new sensation. He feels his breath catch in his throat, like he's tripped up against a wire, and his eyes naturally flit down, flit up, take into account the loss of personal space.]

[He grins.]

[The man has pulled back, but he's hardly missing him, just feeling like the alcohol might have been something like caffeine instead with the way the rush of blood warms his head and chest. No, he doesn't mind it. It's a taste of his own medicine. It's a sweet taste.]

Ah, that damnable shift. See, this is why I'm self-employed. I get to dictate my own rules.

[His hand slides over the table where Elysium just had his, as if to capture the warmth of what's left.]

But no. There's nothing wrong with being greedy at all! I'd be the last guy on the planet to ever complain. Y'know...if you can have it, you might as well go and get it.

Edited 2024-05-21 14:48 (UTC)

[ There's an echo in the back of his mind somewhere that maybe he should've tried to push it further. Or for longer. Or——both. Considering their proximity, it should be easy to see how Elysium's eyes flash with interest; but his restraint has only begun getting tested, and similarly, seeing another cave too soon too fast wasn't all that fun, either. ]

I'd like that, too. Unfortunate that the higherups didn't seem too pleased with me when I did, so here I am. [ Understatement of the century… ] But it isn't so bad, is it? I get to meet all manners of people. They get to visit me. This encounter might've not been what it was otherwise.

[ It's not like he'd moved that far away. At most, he'd slid his hand a span's worth back just to straighten himself out. So his gaze settles on the distance between their hands thoughtfully before it snaps back to Sampo. ]

We can't just let life pass us by, can we. [ An observation. ] It was nice meeting you tonight.

When you say it like that....maybe you are blessed. Someone's smiling down on ya.

[And he got to meet Sampo Koski. And Sampo Koski got to meet him.]

[He sees that gaze, his own following it, but - well, there's no need to step over the line so quick. Eager is one thing. To fall like this into someone is another. No, he'll take out the stage hook to tug himself off, now.]

[But not without a tease. He steps back. And then he plucks the man's hand off the table to press a gentlemanly kiss against the back of it.]

You're right. Anyways...it was a lovely time. Thank you, Elysium. To the next encounter.

[And he lets go, now fully extracting himself from behind the counter to the front. Only a smile and a grin and a wave, and he's waltzing off.]

[Something to remember him by.]

[For the next time.]

[ He has no thoughts in particular when Sampo decides to take his hand. He only blinks, then——palpably freezes when he clues in on what Sampo's meant to do with this particular action. It's not the alcohol talking, but pure instinct telling him to yank it back.

For one. It puts his mouth awfully close to a cluster of black crystals present on the surface of his skin, just above his forearm. For two… it is the sort of out-of-pocket gesture he'd never experienced it before. Would he do it to someone else? Yeah. Has he probably done it to someone else? Yeah, too. But even he's self-aware enough to know that his personality is the exact deterrent from receiving such gestures. And that's fine. He really doesn't mind. He prefers to be the one rattling others.

…

He's wearing fingerless gloves, and yet, the kiss blazes through fabric. ]

… Well played. [ In releasing the breath he'd been holding in, the laughter it transitions into will be what accompanies Sampo out the door. One can imagine the future hair ruffle was his revenge… ] 'Til the next time, Koski. You're on.

( closed ) life like the unplumbed sea;

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