text, un: gautier, cw: some references to alcohol use and sexual content

[laidtocrest]

[Specifics tbd, but there's a drunk Midnight involved and he doesn't have a shirt and might've lost his pants. he's fucking naked.

But for now.]

a guy lost his clothes to the washer. anybody saw a pink shirt?

[Attached is a picture of Midnight. I have no fanart, so you must imagine this guy: no shirt, Jojo-posing, wearing a pink feathery thing, drunk, fly open.]

and here's the guy who lost his stuff

Comments

[laidtocrest]

[This could've been him. This really could've been him. This still could be him. Is this him? This might be him. Much to think about, much, much later.

For now, they have a situation. Sylvain takes a drink, swallows, washes the taste of sincerity from his mouth. It's okay. He can handle this.]

And if you're thinking 'it's my chest; what's so bad about that?' consider this: if you constantly post shirtless pictures, over and over, people will get used to it. They'll say, "That's Midnight's chest. He posts it weekly." Nobody wants to be a regularly scheduled event that everyone comes to expect and nobody cares about.

If you want to have the maximum impact, you'll need to at least space it out. A lot.

[See? Strategy.]

[unrequite]

[ Midnight, once again, is a bit numb to the world, but that pinch does make it through the intoxication wall eventually. ]

Ah — ow. Well, if everyone needs a distraction...

[ But it is, once again, Sylvain to the rescue. Midnight, whether Gregor lets go of his beautiful, beautiful face or not, nods solemnly. ]

Although I feel as thought the appeals of my body are evergreen... You're quite right. Even the most sweeping of mountain vistas become commonplace through... through habit? No, through constancy. Thank you.

[blattella]

Gotta be more subtle about it too, or the girls are going to just roll their eyes even if it's only done once in a blue moon.

[Said like he knows shit! He doesn't! Who would believe him! But he lets go of Midnight's face all the same, punctuating it with a placating pat.]

Honestly, I can probably only think of one woman I work with who'd be into you, and [it's the woman he has a thing for so fuck you fuck you fuck you] even she'd get tired of evergreen mountain vistas after short time, I think. And she's from a cold part of the City! It's about absence making the heart grow fonder, and pseudo-rarity.

That's how they drive up demand for goods, anyway. If it feels rare, you feel special for seeing it or having it!

[laidtocrest]

-you sound like you've got a lot of experience with this sort of thing.

[HE ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT, but you know what? You know what?]

Got more advice you can share with the two of us?

[Please, share with the class.]

[unrequite]

[ ... So. On one hand. Midnight literally made a living charming women. (And men. And... okay, a lot of people gave him money to be listened to. He used to be filthy fucking rich and that is why.) He is more than capable of giving this lecture. Several times over.

On the other hand. He's so drunk, guys. And open minded. He loves to learn. He always assume every new person he meets has something different and wonderful to teach him. (See again: Big ol' slut for listening.)

So all he does is find a nearby washing machine, plonk his ass down, and continue to sip at his water. Sweet, sweet water. Zoned out. Zoned in. Like, not focused, because the alcohol he has imbibed has temporarily deleted that capability from his DNA, but he's present. Ish.

Go on, Gregor. Please. Midnight is enthralled. He has completely bought in. Whisk him away. ]

[blattella]

[Anyway. Ah. Actually having to think of himself as having any sort of game is wild, and he instantly turns red, right to the tips of his ears. His mouth opens and closes uselessly for a good few seconds, until he grunts dismissively and starts patting himself down for a cigarette. Sorry bread, you are discarded onto a washing machine, right beside Midnight because bro please eat.

And for Sylvain's trouble, he receives a glower.]

I mean, it just seems like common sense, that part. Experience doesn't even come into it. There's, uh...Nothing more to it.

'Least not what I can provide.

[laidtocrest]

Well, I guess we're not getting anything else out of our professor over here and need to figure things out for ourselves, huh, Midnight?

[It should be noted how this is said, with a tone of absolute faked sincerity, earnestness and a little bit of disappointment tinging Sylvain's voice, though if Gregor looks at him he raises his eyebrows in a faked 'who me' moment. And grins. It's a shit-eating grin. Yeah, he knows what he's doing. Yes, he's taking advantage of a drunk guy.

But it's for a good cause.]

[unrequite]

[ Midnight is too drunk to figure out what the good cause is! I can't figure it out either, but I'm not drunk, I'm just stupid.

But Midnight sighs, his disappointment absolutely genuine. ]

Well, from a dearth of resources comes Mother invention... Something. [ He hiccups. ] I think I'll just keep doing what I want. Works, usually.

[ Why hasn't Sylvain knocked him out with a lamp yet? It's a real question, here.

Of note: Midnight is still happily sipping at his water, but the bread hasn't been touched. It's still in its packaging and all. ]