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| No title. |
| (2012-11-17 - 2012-11-30) |
| No description. |
| Ivo Galvan | Glorious victory! Ivo Galvan, mastermind of the Shard Seekers, self-proclaimed knight and he is sticking to it, is leaning back in a conveniently rotating barstool, swaying to and fro ever so slightly, smiling with a glazed expression up at the assuredly fascinating ceiling. "...Aheh he heh." Brilliant strategist and profound thinker, with deep insight and heartfelt drive Ivo has at last given rise to an accomplishment which all men anywhere can be proud of. Not the plucking of the Blind Ochu's flower. No, who cares. This is, of course, a reference to Ivo's timely dousing of Maira's flame-wreathed body, after her sorcerous assault upon their foes within the humid Golmore Jungle. "...aha... ha ha ha ha!" Flame-wreathed, because all else had burned away. Honestly, it was magnificent. And, now rolling in the (if you really look into it, quite humble and meager) portion of the Munny that Ivo has distributed to himself from their overall earnings, sipping from his fourth ale, Ivo once again re-envisions the delightful pouting visage of his favorite fire mage's nude form. Who could condemn him for such an achievement? He got the flower. He got the fabric. He got the girl (in a manner of speaking). Nothing more could be demanded of a man who seeks only to live an interesting life. Grinning down at the tankard in his hand, Ivo downs the last of its contents, gasping for breath before he emits a contented sigh, settling the glass upon the polished bar. He deserves a medal or something, really. Still... As diverting as these new worlds are, he keeps coming so close to women... without ever actually having any. |
| Riku | It's amazing what you can accomplish with a Shard Seeker Stipend when you aren't using it for living expenses. There is information you can buy about keeping tabs on certain people. It also helps to have a familiar who can look at the situation from how you might say-- a bird's eye view. Everything was prepared. The Mission was Go. Riku finds himself rolling his eyes upwards at the Raven perched on the edge of the building. He feels somewhat disturbed by the thoughts kicking around in his head, but this was the balm to cure all ills. A little completely focused mischief that he was able even to hook Reize into. The thought made him grin a little wider. Well-- this ought to be entertaining, at the very least. So. In search of a little mischief, and not completely running away from his problems, Riku draws up the scarf over his mouth and nose as he makes his way into the tavern. He doesn't push the door aside, but rather slips into tha tavern with a single hesitant step-- eyes scanning for the inevitable. Riku did live an interesting life, now didn't he? He makes his way across the tavern very slowly, keeping Ivo in his side vision but not seeming to 'notice' him quite yet as he looks around for a seat. |
| Ivo Galvan | Yes, three cheers for men who live interesting lives. Of course, but this point, Ivo has downed more than three cheers -- and furthermore, not all who lead interesting lives are, of course, men. Or are recognizable as such. "Once more!" Galvan proclaims with delight and satisfaction as he slides his empty tankard forward across the bar, much to the subdued amusement of the barkeep, who has had the privilege of witnessing Ivo's gradual degeneration over the course of the evening. For all his playfulness and inherent foibles, the knight-errant tends to be a rather calm and composed individual, if only to provide him with something approximating an Archimedean point from which to manipulate others. (For the enjoyment of all, including the manipulated, of course.) In the exuberant haze of intoxication, one naturally abandons all this. "Ha ha ha..." Along with one's dignity. "...hmm?" Ivo is not exactly in a perceptive state, but he retains his old habits of allowing his gaze to rove the room at his leisure, and as soon as his eyes land upon a mysterious half-shrouded silver-haired girl (?), some half-buried memory stirs. "What is this!" he cries, rather attention-grabbingly, lurching from his seat. "Is it fate, destiny? My nypmh-like beauty has returned to me from the fog of fantasy! And here I thought I had dreamt you!" Once upon a time, in real life, Ivo Galvan put two and two together and realized that lady-Riku was, in fact, actual Riku. This occurred in the long long ago. As far as Drunk Ivo Galvan is concerned, these individuals-- "Come, sit with me!" --are entirely distinct. Was there even a boy version? Rikwho? |
| Riku | Riku has had this image before. This moment in which the co-leader of the Shard Seekers reveals himself to be as just a big of a doof as the leader-- except Reize wears his awkwardness on his sleeve, and Ivo hides his at the bottom of a beer mug. As such, these infrequent (or perhaps slightly uncommon) sights should be properly photographed for the enjoyment of further generations. Riku paused, uncertain as Ivo grandly gestures for him to sit at his table. Instead, he fidgets and shifts position as if considering the possibility-- or perhaps trying to place him, and he gives Ivo a mischievious smile that he can't keep off his face for very long. It's one thing to simply be mistaken. Sure. It's another thing to go about doing the instigating-- but right now, he didn't care. Seeing beyond the facade Ivo kept between Friends and Enemies, even if only a crack, was interesting enough to risk even serious embarrassment. "Ah. I seem to remember you-- Ethan-- no. Ivo. It was Ivo, wasn't it?" He gives an even bigger smile. "Oh. That's right. I owe you a drink, don't I?" And Reize owes you more than a little for stuffing him into that moneky suit, so hey--- Fair is fair. Riku puts a hand near Ivo's arm. "Let me take care of that right now." |
| Ivo Galvan | Let's be real about Ivo for a moment here. He's managed to acquire something of a reputation for flirting with women, but the fact of the matter is, he hasn't tried anything scandalous with most or any of them. (Okay, maybe a couple, but.) At the end of the day, Ivo seems compelled to alleviate or enhance the mundane with some manner of playful demeanor -- not out of any desperation, but simply to live the most interesting, or at least diverting, life he can. Given how much he toys with men and teases girls, it's easy to imagine him as some sort of mysterious playboy. This would be erroneous, not that he would admit to it, lest he give away the game. Ivo is an aristocratic engineer with a good-ish (?) heart, a need for novelty, and a manipulative streak, no more than that when it comes to the ladies. Which is /exactly/ why-- "Ah ha ha, I'll go by whatever name you please, if--" --he's very careful to hide that, deep down, he's just like any other guy when it comes to being interested in cute girls... or those who resemble them. "You owe me nothing," Ivo says rather grandly, and by grandly I mean very drunkenly, "but any favor you bestow upon me is worth a thousand from any other." By the sound of him, he may have already had a thousand drinks. Perhaps a thousand and one is in order. Even as he rambles, though, Ivo's semi-bleary gaze clearly gravitates towards the proximity of The Mysterious Silver-Haired Hottie's arm to his own. "Your mere presence is intoxicant enough." Even when he isn't messing around, he /still/ never lets up. Either he leans in slightly, or he's just slumping. "Forgive me, miss, but your name was...?" I'm going with 'Riko'. |
| Riku | And you'd think it'd be something obvious like that. But Riku, being a wily and probably mentally disturbed rabbit, gives him a name that completely isn't related to having an identity crisis right now. Of course. He is IN THIS SITUATION, which probably constitutes some sort of derangement on a principle basis. "Rachel." He did actually know a Rachel. Once. On an island and a life far far away. He doubts she'll need her name back for the forseeable future. Riku steers himself away from that line of thought with an act of will. He leans slightly away from Ivo, leaning an elbow on the table as he pays for another round of drinks. A thousand and one it is. By the end of this fracas, perhaps he'll have to start keeping track of how many drinks he manages to con out of Co-Fearless Leader. "Oh, well I may not owe you but-- a friend of mine does. You're such a cultured gentlemen, Ivo. You bring a little culture of that wherever you go. I'm sure he's very grateful." |
| Ivo Galvan | "Rachel...!" Ivo breathes his beloved's name as though to have acquired it is some sort of tremendous victory. What's not new is that he's being melodramatic. What is new is that it's not entirely intentional. When drunk, the knight-errant clearly gets caught up in his own playful persona. But perhaps what that shows is, if one is to be charitable, even when he's messing around, he's never insincere. He always enjoys situations like this. He just never gets carried away by them. "We... share a friend in common...?" Well, 'never'... "Then I shall have to put this friend of yours further in my debt," Galvan gamely replies, his blue eyes warm behind their glassiness, his grin widening though lopsided. "If he becomes more grateful, will you display that gratitude? It's your generosity I'm interested in," he adds, taking a sip from his thousand-and-oneth (might as well be) drink. He hasn't asked who this 'friend' is supposed to be. He obviously does not care. |
| Riku | "I think I would enjoy that." Riku does not smile except a little, head tucking into the folds of his scarf because is he didn't have some pretty impressive self control, he just start laughing and blow the whole thing. His shoulders heave very slightly once and then he draws in a little gasp of air, a small and flustered (to Ivo) sounding gasp as he sets his shoulders and determines NOT to start contemplating just how cheesy Ivo sounded. Was this in fact as bad as it could get, or could Riku get a little more for the sake of the Luca style recorder he was hiding away. "But please-- if you wish to be generous, you can buy me a drink--" he pauses, then adds. "--and perhaps tell me a story so that I might know something about you? It's amusing to be flattered in such a way, though. Continue on if you have to. If you have no words to say, that's alright to. You have surely said more than enough. " |
| Ivo Galvan | Ivo, amidst his heady daze, feels pleased as punch with himself as Rachel seems to huddle behind her scarf, shuddering slightly with, let's go with, delight. Of course, he's being absurd, so clearly, she's charmed and entertained. And why wouldn't she be? What is there to disdain about Ivo Galvan? Nothing. That's what. He's like, the best. "But of course!" the young knight-now-very-errant exclaims, proceeding to all too easily chug his newest drink so that he can buy Rachel another, as clearly he can't buy /her/ one without buying /himself/ another one, as that's just how it works, and now's not the time to be questioning the system. "Oho, stories about me?" Ivo seems entertained just thinking about it. "Well, my past is of no consequence. But most of my best stories are of... ha ha ha, of what happens to other people as a result of my actions. I'll tell you, when Priel shows up and Reize gets to-- but no!" He abruptly, and by abruptly I mean very drunkenly, cuts himself off before he can get to the good part. "I'll tell you, Rachel, a secret about myself." He arches a brow, and leans in toward his cute companion. "I am a proud man! In my own way. I may distance myself, or efface myself, but I hold myself to a r... a ri... a rigorous standard of my own! And that's why... that's why I can't..." His palm slaps thunderously upon the bar, his brow furrowing. "Damn that Quistis!" Obviously distracted, his open hand clenches. "That... that whip-wielding woman's taken advantage of my... my hidden weakness. It's a weakness, you know, being proud! To bear the burden of one's own dignity. To face the temptation of being stripped of it, and relieved of those responsibilities at last! Curse her!" Ivo grits his teeth, blearily shaking his head back and forth. "With her heels, and her... no! No, I won't do it again! I won't..." He trails off, gazing toward the wall, at something only he can see. "Rachel!" he then abruptly exclaims, turning toward his adorable accomplice. "You support me, don't you? If you believe in me, I d... def... definitely won't succumb!" Succumb to what? What the /hell/ is he talking about? |
| Riku | And suddenly it's like everything goes wrong. Riku has to admit this was entertaining up to and through the second drink (that he's seen) and probably the thousand and second from actual count, but Ivo seems to be possessed by some extremely odd issues. This is the part where he starts to feel uncomfortable. Unless this too, was part of the chicanery. Was it? Riku gives Ivo a deep and searching look as he tries to puzzle out if Ivo is again trying something that would be hilariously like flirting if Ivo didn't have a convienient plea of insanity induced by drink. Another mental note. Never. Drink. Ever. Riku takes a small sip of his own for the sake of appearances, putting it down carefully. Now he's gathered his wits together, and banished all doubts-- Whatever Ivo was doing, he was along for the ride, so he may as well enjoy it. "Of course I'll support you Ivo. Why should I do anything different? I have before. But-- maybe we should leave such a thing for another time and pick up our previous conversation? I don't --quite remember, where he left off. I'm- sure you can convince me to do so. Maybe-- Maybe I just like hearing you talk." and The Recorder rolls on.. |
| Ivo Galvan | Whereupon, tragically, Ivo talks for basically forever, rambling about an endless range of topics which amuse him, none of which elucidate his /highly suspicious/ reference to /something involving/ Quistis Trepe and whips and heels, until he passes out on the bar after the seventieth attempt to encourage Rachel to make out with him. With that level of persistence, we can only assume he succeeded! Okay, no. No, he probably didn't. |