dojima_hime | The Phantasm Club [Tokyo, Sunday Evening]

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The Phantasm Club [Tokyo, Sunday Evening]

The club was already packed, the young and beautiful population of Tokyo out to drink and dance the night away.

It had been chosen as a meeting place due to its central location, but it wasn't hard to see why it was one of Dōjima's favorite hangouts.

[OOC: For the three chillin' in Tokyo, OCD in-progress. NFB due to distance. And I'm done spamming your flists! WOO!]

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She let herself be pulled closer. "You think I'm a novelty?" she sighed. "Maybe you're just jealous, 'cause that guy likes my butt. I could totally go dance with him. He looks like a good dancer."

There was an appreciative wriggle. "Thaaaaank you. Dojima helped me pick it out. Yes, it matches. I've matched before. Like. Dances and stuff."

"Yeah," Reno agreed, "but this one's all wrong for undoin' with my mouth."

Yes. Still drunk. Yes, he had to stop and screw up his face a little while he puzzled out how he managed to let that one get past his lips.

Yes, he was going to give up trying to think on it too hard, and he was going to do some sort of grinding approximation of whatever dance everyone else was doing on the dance floor, now.

"That guy's short," he noted. Conversationally.

"Are you saying you want to?" Rikku said. A little breathlessly. "You could probably take it off with your mouth, if you tried. I have faith in you."

Just because it was a bad idea didn't mean she didn't have faith in him. Seriously.

"Wellll, Iiiii dunno," Reno drawled, and this next bump-and-grind combo had a little less bump and a little more grind. "That short guy over there is still oglin' your ass. And you seemed all interested in him right back, an' shit. I bet he knows ten different ways to tell you that Reptar's comin' to trash the city, zoto."

"I bet he can't say it in Al Bhed," she teased, twining her arms around his neck. Leaning into the grinding. "I could teach him, maybe. Unless you know anything interesting in Al Bhed that you want to share."

"Somethin' in Al Bhed? Somethin' like cusadrehk?"

Reno liked that one. It had totally gave him the most satisfying reaction that a moment of pure mental dysfunction had ever afforded him.

"How 'bout seha, or gecc sa, or mad sa vilg oui cu rynt ed dygac ic yh ruin zicd du kad dra ghudc uid?"

Really, Al Bhed was a beautiful, very expressive language.

Rikku dragged his face down and was attacking his lips with hers, now.

No fair. Totally no fair.

"Tell me we shouldn't go somewhere?" she breathed. When she eventually stopped for breath. Which took a while.

"We probably shouldn't," Reno agreed, and damn, the kissing was good, drunken and sweaty and stupid as it was. "If it takes us that long to get untangled, we'll miss our portal back to Fandom."

He didn't sound nearly as concerned about this fact as he potentially could. Not by a long shot. But still. Kissing. Which, at the rate they were going, would at least give Reptar across the room there the pretty clear notion that the cute blonde gaijin was accounted for.

"Besides," she murmured. "Bad idea. 'Cause. I don't remember why. 'Cause we're being weird. Let's stop being weird? I miss you and you're totally cheating, using Al Bhed on me."

She didn't mean for all of that to come spilling out. Toooooo drunk.

Reno's smile was a wry one, then, and he gave her another lingering sort of kiss before straightening up and shrugging his shoulders faintly.

"Was like a dare. Just gave you a sample of some of the language I picked up the past eight months or so, yo." She'd asked. "I miss you too. Kinda wanted to see Tokyo. Never been, before. Sorta like Midgar. Was. Like it was. The folks are more Wutai. But the city even stinks like Midgar did. Kinda. Not as bad."

Yeah. His brain was still booze-fogged.

Rikku was chewing her lip as she straightened up.

"Yeah," she said. "You didn't ... mean any of it, just ... wanted me to know. Okay, then. We should ... meet up with the other two, see some of the sights. It's ... a nice town."

Right. Okay, then.

"It's a dirty-ass town. Kinda stinks like fish, here and there." Reno shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned.

Well. That had gone smoothly.

"I don't just say shit I don't mean, you know." He shrugged, and then he glanced anxiously toward the bar. "So. Sightseein'. Tokyo. Sake. No dragons, though. Just ain't home without dragons."

"Unless it's a dare?" she said, glancing around the club. Maybe she should've gone to shimmy up against that other guy. Make him jealous. Get his attention. Maybe he would have shrugged and left the dance floor, if she had. "None of this feels familiar, to me. It's all loud and crowded and dark and it makes me feel lost. Almost homesick, kinda."

"Makes me homesick in a different kinda way. Stinks like Midgar. Lights up at night like Midgar. Won't ever be Midgar."

No. He probably wouldn't have shrugged and left the dance floor. He probably would have busted that other guy's almost-Wutai nose.

"I get lost in the wide open. And in the trees. And in the sunshine." Staring at the bar. Resolutely. Steadfast. Hey. Kickass bar, they had here. "Yht eh oui. Fuck it. You want a drink? I can probably make up the Wutai word for fuzzy orange icy thing if I fake it long enough."

Edited 2008-10-20 03:39 (UTC)

"I'm ... sorry you don't have Midgar," she shrugged, trying to ignore the little thrill that raced through her for the rest of it. "You have to see Spira, some time. Lots of wide open. Even if you can't see Home. Just desert out there, now."

She hadn't been back since. Nothing to see, really.

"We should drink," she decided. Which was always a bad answer, but the hell with it.

"Gotta see Spira sometime," Reno agreed, lifting a shoulder and then starting to walk back toward the bar. "C'mon. Let's get drunk."

Always a bad answer. But at least Reno was good at it.

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The Phantasm Club [Tokyo, Sunday Evening]

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