Izunia Lucis Caelum had gone into the courtroom with the fire of vengeance in his heart, Lyse, Lyse -
But all of that fire is gone now. He can't burn his children. Lucis does tombs, not funeral pyres.
He hadn't even been able to vote. And now he's here, seated up on top of the closed piano in the music room. There's a bottle in his hand, but he hasn't even opened it yet.
Lyse had taught him her nation's anthem, here, weeks ago when he remembered Insomnia falling apart around him.
He'd told Mukuro, here, of his decision. His choice.
He'd thought she understood. But in the end, he hadn't been able to reach her, not in the depths of the black where her other half chained her down in merely mortal ways.
Champion Despair.]
...Beneath yon burning star there lies A haven for the bold...
[Jail is, as always, herself: she doesn't even wait for Izunia to offer her the bottle, just flops down on top of the piano, leaning against him and reaching for the bottle.]
[But she does raise her voice to sing along with him, as if in payment for the alcohol she's trying to take. Or maybe just because she wants to, too.]
[He's not the only one who misses them.]
"Raise up your hands and voices, let fill your hearts with pride. Above the churning waters, we stand strong and unified..."
[Her voice is low and husky, strong for all the odd rasp added by her gasmask. It's a good voice for melancholy songs. Even if that's not what this anthem was supposed to be, at first.]
[Joke's on you, terrible spacefuture- Jail's never had good taste in vodka flavors and she's not about to start now. She takes a generous swig of the godawful booze and tries to remember which line they're on.]
"...to shape this rugged land of ours, and build a home for all."
[She chuckles, wearily but still with that hint of trouble her laugh always has.]
Sounds like an invitation to your boyfriend, to me- if it's gonna go down, you know it'll do it when he's got his ass parked on top of it.
[A shrug, uncaring.]
I say we let the fucker crack- none of us can even play the damn thing, anyway. Gimme a good drum solo any day.
I'm wearing thick pants, so that sounds like a you problem. But if you get any in hard to reach places, maybe you oughtta ask mister antique enthusiast for help. Could be a great icebreaker.
[Jail makes no apologies for being her terrible ridiculous self.]
Hey, no tempting the universe. C'mon, you know better. Don't make me be the sensible one here, that shit's just wrong.
[As if to ward off any impending good decisions, she takes another swig of vodka.]
Fuck, this tastes like being depressed in Wisconsin.
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we love phancast round here
Izunia Lucis Caelum had gone into the courtroom with the fire of vengeance in his heart, Lyse, Lyse -
But all of that fire is gone now. He can't burn his children. Lucis does tombs, not funeral pyres.
He hadn't even been able to vote. And now he's here, seated up on top of the closed piano in the music room. There's a bottle in his hand, but he hasn't even opened it yet.
Lyse had taught him her nation's anthem, here, weeks ago when he remembered Insomnia falling apart around him.
He'd told Mukuro, here, of his decision. His choice.
He'd thought she understood. But in the end, he hadn't been able to reach her, not in the depths of the black where her other half chained her down in merely mortal ways.
Champion Despair.]
...Beneath yon burning star there lies
A haven for the bold...
no subject
[But she does raise her voice to sing along with him, as if in payment for the alcohol she's trying to take. Or maybe just because she wants to, too.]
[He's not the only one who misses them.]
"Raise up your hands and voices, let fill your hearts with pride. Above the churning waters, we stand strong and unified..."
[Her voice is low and husky, strong for all the odd rasp added by her gasmask. It's a good voice for melancholy songs. Even if that's not what this anthem was supposed to be, at first.]
no subject
With tired hands do toil...
[He lets her take the bottle. It's Cheez-Um vodka. Somehow the atrocious ones became a tradition for this.]
...If we add any more weight, we'll break the piano, you know.
no subject
"...to shape this rugged land of ours, and build a home for all."
[She chuckles, wearily but still with that hint of trouble her laugh always has.]
Sounds like an invitation to your boyfriend, to me- if it's gonna go down, you know it'll do it when he's got his ass parked on top of it.
[A shrug, uncaring.]
I say we let the fucker crack- none of us can even play the damn thing, anyway. Gimme a good drum solo any day.
no subject
[Atrocious, terrible creature. Family. His family.]
I don't think today could get much worse anyway.
no subject
[Jail makes no apologies for being her terrible ridiculous self.]
Hey, no tempting the universe. C'mon, you know better. Don't make me be the sensible one here, that shit's just wrong.
[As if to ward off any impending good decisions, she takes another swig of vodka.]
Fuck, this tastes like being depressed in Wisconsin.
no subject
[Jail he's been sleeping in the guy's room for two to three weeks at this point. They are absolutely doing the do.]
...As opposed to being depressed somewhere else?
no subject
[Another sip, and she nods authoritatively.]
Yep, definitely Wisconsin. It's the undernote of cheese curd that really makes it.