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[deuceoftears]

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[deuceoftears]

No, jellyfish.

Wait. Were the dogs there? I didn't see B...

[littletonoidea]

Nonono. [He'll take pity on Jedao.] You're hungover as hell, my friend. Quite possibly so badly that you've rolled back into "still drunk". Which I did not think was your scene.

[deuceoftears]

I don't think I can get drunk.

[Jedao blinks. Wait. Wait.]

[deuceoftears]

That's drunk???

[littletonoidea]

Yyyyup. [He pops the P, quietly.] You partook in the devil's drink, kiddo, which lowers your inhibitions, reduces your pain receptors and capacity for logical reasoning, and makes everything really, really fun. Right up until about eight hours after you stop, which is when tax season comes for your liver and you're in for a whole world of hurt.

[deuceoftears]

[Does he even have a liver??? This is so unfair.]

It tasted good.

[An extremely mournful protest. Nothing tastes good. But Vodka tasted like nothing, and fire. Jedao actually liked it.]

[littletonoidea]

Yeah, that's how they getchya. All those funky fresh flavours draw you in, then bam, you're naked in someone else's kiddy pool with no recollection of the last sixteen hours.

[deuceoftears]

No, I swam in my clothes.

[He is completely confident of this. Some of it happened before he started drinking, even.]

[littletonoidea]

Sure thing, buddy.

[His tone is definitely sympathetic and not at all patronising. Nope.]

Is this baby's first real hangover?

[deuceoftears]

[He is a baby. He's two. It's funny!

Fuck. The barge is getting impounded and he is two years old and he just went to his first party and he can't protect his friends.

He's laughing and it's horrible and he doesn't know why.]

[littletonoidea]

[Yeah he recognises that laugh too. In essense if not direct familiarity.]

I'm gonna bring you some water, champ. What's your room again?

[deuceoftears]

[Well, he doesn't hate water.]

...five thirteen.

[littletonoidea]

Alright, hold tight.

[And he's there not ten minutes later, with a big ol' half-gallon bottle of water as he knocks on the door. Loud enough to be heard, hopefully not so loud to set off a migraine.]

Heeey, Jedao. You still kickin'?

[deuceoftears]

[When he arrives at the door, it's rounded at the top, with sliding airtight panels instead of hinges, but with none of the clunky utilitarianism of early Earth-based spacecraft. Instead, it's made of a glossy unidentifiable metamaterial, creamy off-white with a faint nacreous luster, and decorated with playful filigree gold foxes gamboling through a minimalist landscape of oversized daffodils and heaps of boulder-like knucklebone dice, like a surreal embroidered wall-hanging. By the standards of the Heptarchate-Hexarchate-now-Compact, this qualifies as tastefully restrained.

The door opens a few seconds after Eiffel knocks. Inside is a painfully neat, compact little apartment, painted in soothing dappled greens. There are hints here and there of far-future technology, but the furniture in the sitting room is pale wood. There's a red-and-gold tea set on the table, although Jedao hasn't actually made himself any yet. He smells faintly of salt, almost all vanished now, from his time in the Enclosure's sea. Jedao is tucked up in a corner of the couch.]

Hey.

[littletonoidea]

Wow. [Sorry, he's gotten a bit distracted by how completely fucking different this space is to Eiffel's own.] Your room is so much nicer than mine. Oh-

[Right he's here being helpful. He moves in and sets himself down next to Jedao on the couch, offering him the drink bottle as he drapes an arm over the back of the couch.]

Take it slow, tiger. You're gonna barf if you chug this one.

[deuceoftears]

"I didn't pick it out or anything," Jedao mumbles. "It's just where Shuos-Zho put me."

He takes it, sips, and grimaces. "And I didn't chug. It was just...a long party."

[littletonoidea]

"Oh yeah?" He still sounds faintly amused. "How long were you guys out in the club for?"

[deuceoftears]

"We went to the beach."

This conversation where Jedao is slightly less with it, is perhaps revealing just how much he shrugs and moves on from in Eiffel's speech normally.

"James made it - from his home. All afternoon and...a lot? of the night? There was a bonfire. And jellyfish."

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel is definitely getting the picture.

"Alright, so. How much did you drink? You as in you personally."

[deuceoftears]

There was also a lot of food, and Jedao ate none of it, because he'd already made his minimum calorie goals for the day and he was having a nice time.

"A...couple bottles?"

[littletonoidea]

"Okay, Jedao, listen." He shifts to turn to face his friend fully, splaying his loose hand as he talks. "I'm not gonna read you the riot act for getting drunk with a few friends, alright? But for your sake, since you really don't sound like you've ever gotten plastered before, think you could do me a solid and remember what kind of bottles? Beer, mixers, rum or whatever? It's for your own good."

[deuceoftears]

"Oh, vodka!" he says, way too brightly, and...alive-ly. He actually gets kind of a dopey smile for a second thinking about it.

"It didn't taste like anything."

So nice.

[littletonoidea]

Eiffel's face, on the other hand, freezes.

Well, not true. His mouth opens and closes a few times in disbelief.

"...vodka," he repeats, a bit weakly. "Straight?"

[deuceoftears]

"I thought it wouldn't do anything. Because. Because. I'm an exman. But it did! I guess."

He takes another sip of his water, faintly contemplative.

[littletonoidea]

Okay he needs to just. Bury his face in his hands for a moment, with a muffled, "Oh my god."

He drags his hands down, pressing them over his mouth and nose for a moment as he inhales, then plants both hands on his knees in what he thinks is a very serious 'Don't Do Drugs, Kids' preschool cop look.

"Jedao, one liter-bottle of vodka is thirty standard drinks. Did you drink those bottles solo, or did you share them?"