[For every small shred of happiness Mallory gets to experience, a wave of Despair always follows closely after it, it seems. Melodramatic? Perhaps. But matters of the heart always are, and now that he's finally exposed what he denied for so long, everything's going about as well as he expected it to. There's a reason he tried to keep his feelings to himself.
Luna didn't abandon him over it, which is a huge relief. But Peony's gone and run off somewhere (he knows she'd love to announce a big job in person) even though she was the one who pushed him to make the move in the first place. And now Luna's been called away by the Witch not a day later for who knows how long, which might as well be an abandonment of its own. Either way, it's only Mallory and his own regret to keep himself company.
The one-man pity party largely takes place in 1-01, where Mallory has switched his bedding out for Luna's and spends a fair bit of time gazing at the ceiling. But it's not like he's gone and become a hermit or anything-- he still attends to work, goes through his workouts in the mornings (without destroying the sand bags!), feeds himself (a little less than usual), and responds when spoken to, however half-hearted. He's also taken to spending his evenings in the bars around Koriko, not getting shit-faced or anything, but looking appropriately broody.
At least for as poor as his mood is, he isn't particularly snappish for the time being. Sullen, yes, but his aura says is a little more like leave me alone instead of I want to smash your face in, so that's something.
[The rest of April had been an interesting time for opinions on Mallory even if like every single one of those threads was still in process at this point. From settling into some sort of wary acceptance out of necessity, to being angry at him all over again, learning he apparently had some sort of sob story... Everything was just all over the board, but what remained was that he was still mad that the boxer kept punching people he cared about, and no amount of harsh backstory was going to change Emi's mind on that.
That didn't mean the blond wouldn't be surprised to see the older male sitting at his bar that evening.
The Boar's Nest wasn't the most brooding of bars, and Mallory seemed more like a brooder than a sportsfan. Then again, the constant buzz of noise was good when you didn't want to give your thoughts a chance to really form full depressing sentences. Which... given the way he was holding himself, Emi could only assume it was low thoughts on his mind. It was out of place with everything else Emi had come to know about him.
(Unless it had something to do with that.)
It wasn't like Emi actually cared. He didn't. Even still, it was almost... intriguing was close, though callous, and that led him to stand in front of Mallory's seat at the bar. That and the fact that, you know, getting the man a drink was his job.]
[Look, he was a deeply flawed and complex character!!
Sports were alright, Mallory supposed. Combat ones moreso than team-based ones, and it was especially exhilarating to be the one competing, but if he had to settle for watching some guys chase around a puck on a rink instead, he could deal with it. At least some entertaining fights broke out on the ice half the time anyway.
He was only half-paying attention anyway, looking more for some mindless flashing images to keep his brain turned off (or at least at a lower volume) while he moped the night away. He pulled his focus down to Emi, eyebrows raising a little. Did all of his students work here...?]
Ah... yo. Just whatever's on tap. I'm not picky.
[Since he wasn't going to order the black cherry beer he wanted in front of someone who knew him...]
[Yes. All of them. All the students. (A lot of them, anyway.)
There was a slight tilt to Emi's head as he gave Mallory a considering look. He really was having an off time, wasn't he? It seemed unusual for him to be so... almost absent-minded.
Well, anyway, he had an order to work with. Emi nodded, turning towards the taps while plucking up one of the chilled glasses. The brew that he slid in front of Mallory was innocuous enough, though if he stared into the creamy head long enough he might have seen a few glittering sparkles. It was legitimately just beer though, this time.]
[It was frighteningly easy to disassociate in a room full of flat screens mounted high along the walls. Better than the tightly wound nervous wreck he was last time he saw Emi...?
Boy he sure hoped Chou cleared that up by now. Ha. Ha ha.]
Thanks.
[He could swear that if he listened closely, each miniscule bubble of foam murmured out a cheery death aria as it popped and settled. And he wasn't even drunk yet. He eyed the drink with consideration, turning the glass in his hand without imbibing just yet.]
[Emi had just been hanging around to see if Mal could live with the drink or not. Usually if folks didn't like the pre-determined option that was 'whatever is on tap,' it meant that there was something else they actually wanted and just didn't want to ask for immediately for whatever reason. Casual inquiries about his face generally were not involved.
Caught off guard, Emi could only give him a confused look. It hadn't been bruised all that badly. Maybe he'd just been making a face.]
[Oh. Good. THAT SETTLED THAT. Nothing to worry about. Even if Chou said he should practice apologizing, and even if he kind of agreed, didn't this mean that there was nothing left to discuss?
He pondered this while he took an adventurous sip.]
-! ...Huh.
[Nothing at all like other beers he'd tried in the past. It felt like there was a rainbow in his mouth... That wasn't anything to be too concerned about, right?]
It's not bad...
[And he could hear it in his mouth, a chorus of cheerful whinnying, singing the praises of friendship and forgiveness, come on, give him A BREAK HERE. Maybe if he downed it faster it would leave him alone.]
[Watching him try to down it faster immediately after saying it wasnt bad roused a huff of a chuckle out of Emi.]
Yeah, that’s about the usual reaction to that one.
[The other usual reactions were bouts of elation and the smallest haze of rainbows whenever something spectacularly good was happening to their preferred sports teams. If Mallory wasn’t here to actually root for anyone, he was probably pretty safe from the rainbow connection tonight. If there had been any boxing on tonight, that might have been different, but there weren’t any matches on at the moment.
But not being here to root for anyone just brought him back to his original question.]
You’re not here to actually watch anything, are you.
[A statement of fact more than anything else. Emi sounded more bored about the statement than anything accusatory. He was going to get paid either way, so it really didn’t matter.]
[Riye going back into the swing of things was coming along. Sans the whole body swap fiasco, Riye was able to make a quick recovery and get back to her own devices. Which meant tutoring Ethan, working at the library, and even getting another short story going. Yes.
Though...suddenly, the library got lonelier. When Luna didn't show up for work, she thought the worst immediately. She was there for that whole event when she had to take him for the clinic, and since he never missed a day otherwise...
That was when she found a note from him. Taking a leave of absence for a while. Why? Did something happen? She didn't expect Luna to specify, being Luna.
Of course, then, the first thing that came into her mind was Mal. So after work, she had plans to close up as soon as possible and head on out to the dorms. If Mal was there at his room, which she actually hoped...then well, she knew where she wanted to be. A knock.]
[He entertained the idea of pretending he wasn't in, if only for a brief moment. He knew he wouldn't be the best company right now and he'd already bogged Riye down with his personal bullshit enough over the course of their friendship so far. But hey, maybe she actually needed something. And he'd get something in turn by having a temporary distraction.
So after a short silence he finally hauled his sorry ass over to the door, sliding it open.]
[It wasn't like she minded that. She kind of tossed her own sad stories his way too. If the worst had happened, then she already made the decision to give him company one way or another. She was actually pleased to see that he went to answer the door. Riye half expected an invitation, but maybe she wasn't out of the woods just yet with this.]
I haven't seen much of you today. Just wanted to stop on by for a visit.
Can't live without my charming company, huh? Hnnh, my bad... It's been one thing after another lately. Guess I lost track of time.
[He took a half step back from the door; she was free to come in if she felt like it, but he was ready to leave if she felt like taking this somewhere else too.]
It's fine with me. I did make the treacherous journey over for said company, so it's probably worth it.
[She made a small tilt of her head as she decided to hop on inside, feeling better about the decision to do so more and more since the de-trapping. But for now, the small talk was working so she was just going to accept the invitation for now and wait and see. If they needed to leave, she would make the suggestion.]
Work was just pretty dull, is all. Duller than usual. Time just goes there to die.
If only I could just talk to books all day, then my work day would be perfect.
I couldn't begin to tell you how many people come in asking for "a book in the blue cover".
[Seriously, Mal. If you see a certain fixture at some point, now you kind of know in advance.
It was all lighthearted until the second remark came around, and it was just about when she already made her station on the floor, a few paces from the futon, backpack placed with a resounding plop next to her. Riye was just about to get comfortable, but all of the sudden...there was that.]
[Don't touch that futon, Mal's brain practically screams as Riye approaches it. It isn't his, it's Luna's, and it smells like him and in the dead of night the blanket's warmth is a pale imitation of his embrace and-
He's been without Luna's company for much longer, when he was overseas and left him and Peony behind to do their own work towards their common goal. But this time, for the first time in months, he's alone and all of the sudden it's so much emptier than he ever noticed before. So that sad, simple comfort is all he has.
The tension eases out of his shoulders only slightly when she pauses, and he frowns.]
Yeah, but you're a weirdo. [He means it nicely. He's one too, after all.] I guess I am a little thankful. I was starting to feel lonesome.
[ What happens when there's more than one person in Ethan's circle of frequently met maybe friends that say something different from what he knows about Mallory? Maybe this. Perhaps the tip of that hat had been walking by the gym one fine day a few days back during a fruit crate delivery to be met with a passing glance of Mallory teaching, people his age or younger. Even Emi was there, Luna and Peony, and there was a cake? There was a mess of cake and he could've sworn there had been laughter.
He didn't stick around for too long, he had work to do, a boxer to avoid, and feelings to attempt to slip away from. He was bad at that, though. When he felt, he felt big time, and it clung to him during a generous chunk of the day.
Also, Mallory was . . . Weird, that day he made eggs. Forget who was boyfriend— who was Mallory? Maybe he should— look for him, or something?
The demi human is on his way to the forest for some "training" while Luna is away, a small bag behind his back that hid nothing but a small boost to stand on and a noose (it probably wasn't a good idea to walk around with that in the open), passing by The Dubliner to deliver Mr. Gimli a fleeting hello and some fruits for certain drink. He stops, right there midway through the doors with a crate over his shoulder; Nothing shook away the tension in his hitched arms when one of the first sights caught is of the brawny man sitting in the bars.
Ethan considers leaving the crate there and be on his way, maybe passing by later— He didn't even want a drink, he's had his for the month. It was just a minute to leave his farm delivery and be off to playing Russian Roulette with his IBM for the rest of the afternoon he had free.
It's a shame that the little clurichaun boss stumbling around his bar knows his preferred mutt when he sees him, hardly thinking to clap and waddle his way to the door, making Ethan shake his head and flinch— it's no use. He's going to be hardy. There's my lad! he squawks, smacking the boy's shins. Bwahah, y'know where t'put the goods, y'mutt, do it quick! Y'got a cold one waitin' on ya'!
Ah, crap. Does he need to be so loud? (A taste of his own medicine, really). Looking over to where Mallory sits, Ethan sinks into himself, quietly declining and already moving behind the counter to take the fruit out back to stock. ]
Today's— not my day off, sir . . . Haha.
[ Tttttttime to keep moving, watching Mal from behind the crate he carries and stepping past him quicker than anywhere else around the bar. At least there's nothing of residue from impact induced blemishes on his face. It's crisp, clean and healthy, like nothing had broken a little less that two weeks ago. ]
[Ethan may suck at playing keep-away with Mallory when it comes to little bundles of fruit, but he's perfected the art of keeping himself away from the boxer. So much so that at one point Mal had the passing consideration that he'd left the island entirely. He didn't think much more on that, other than good, and he preoccupied himself to trying to readjust to the lonely life he had in his first month in Koriko.
Only with a lot more drinking. He can stop any time, okay.
As it turns out, the bars aren't half as lonely for him as he suspected they would be. Or as lonely as he'd like. It's hard to lose oneself in dark, masculine brooding when every so often someone like a scarred old kappa or a bling-bedazzled tanuki would give him a wave or a clap on the back and talk about how much they missed him down at The Pit, and when was their prize fighter going to make a comeback? Mal was always surly toward anyone who brought up his less than savoury source of income in broad daylight like this (that's his charm point!), but he's even quicker to tell them to piss off now. So much so that he's started to keep himself on guard for anyone who seems to be approaching him so he can shoot them down before they even try.
So he notices the change in the crate-with-legs' pace as it nears him, and his harsh gaze whips toward it instinctively. Oh. None of the low lives of Koriko's seedy underbelly this time, just a dumb kid. That's so much better.]
Ethan.
[His voice is perfectly flat, maybe even a little tired sounding.]
[ When you do a good job staying away from the government, you can do a good job keeping away from anybody. He was contemplating walking over himself, but, ah, maybe some other time or—
When his name is said in the most demonic way possible (that is an exaggeration), making him freeze mid step behind the bar's counters and stand. Completely still. Maybe if he didn't move, he wouldn't see him! T-rex vision! Except Mallory is totally not a dinosaur, and Ethan could only keep in one place for so long. Lowering a stiffened leg, the teen turns, crate still weighing over his shoulders but bothering him little, slowly turning his head to face the tired man's call.
Tired. He sort of looked tired, too.
Perhaps there hadn't been such a need to stare at him so widely? He said his name for like, the first time without messing it up. He remembered his name. Did that head trauma help his memory after it jogged—? ]
Mister . . . Mallory.
[ It's awkward, but. Um.
Here it is. Conversation. Tense and unsure as it was, especially on Ethan's part. ]
[Conversation!! Terse as it is. Actually, Mal's not sure what prompted him to grab his attention in the first place. It's not like he's been so lonely he even misses him or anything! Does he look desperate?! No, he's just- he's had too much to drink, or something. That's all.
He wrinkles his nose a little before turning back to the bar.]
[ . . . Trailing off, maybe he was a little bit, for his own obvious reasons. With a shift in his standing to distribute his weight, and with a quiet "it's okay" from one of the nearby bartender, he brings the crate from his shoulders to his arms, holding his breath as he lifts and sets the goods down to the floor, just where the space for cabinets and such should be.
What was he doing here, anyway?
He's intrigued. They were in quite the social place, surely nothing would happen here, right? With a swift exhale and a swing of his arms, he rides that awkward pause before deciding to break it himself. ]
[Ah, good. Things went from 0 to -60 in no time at all. Just go on with whatever work you were doing, you punk!
But Mal does look back over at him at the question, eyebrows raised. Like he thinks he heard right but can't really connect it to any kind of context.]
What are you talking about? It's fine.
[Did he have a fall so bad he doesn't remember anything? Was it from the previous night of drinking? No, he would have felt it this morning for sure.]
[ Not that Mallory probably remembers it at this point. Ethan has to rub his neck before urging himself to speak again, standing closer to the bar to avoid getting in the way. ]
You said you hit your head? You couldn't even remember who I was. [ He pauses. Um— ] Remember my eggs? You scared the shit out of me in the kitchen?
[Wait... Is this something that happened while he was stuck in Chou's body?]
Sure, right, I remember now. [He sure hopes it wasn't anything important.] I just had too much to drink. --Look, forget about that. There was something I wanted to ask you about. Sit down.
22-25ish; Open
Luna didn't abandon him over it, which is a huge relief. But Peony's gone and run off somewhere (he knows she'd love to announce a big job in person) even though she was the one who pushed him to make the move in the first place. And now Luna's been called away by the Witch not a day later for who knows how long, which might as well be an abandonment of its own. Either way, it's only Mallory and his own regret to keep himself company.
The one-man pity party largely takes place in 1-01, where Mallory has switched his bedding out for Luna's and spends a fair bit of time gazing at the ceiling. But it's not like he's gone and become a hermit or anything-- he still attends to work, goes through his workouts in the mornings (without destroying the sand bags!), feeds himself (a little less than usual), and responds when spoken to, however half-hearted. He's also taken to spending his evenings in the bars around Koriko, not getting shit-faced or anything, but looking appropriately broody.
At least for as poor as his mood is, he isn't particularly snappish for the time being. Sullen, yes, but his aura says is a little more like leave me alone instead of I want to smash your face in, so that's something.
APPROACH...?]
you pick a day
even if like every single one of those threads was still in process at this point. From settling into some sort of wary acceptance out of necessity, to being angry at him all over again, learning he apparently had some sort of sob story... Everything was just all over the board, but what remained was that he was still mad that the boxer kept punching people he cared about, and no amount of harsh backstory was going to change Emi's mind on that.That didn't mean the blond wouldn't be surprised to see the older male sitting at his bar that evening.
The Boar's Nest wasn't the most brooding of bars, and Mallory seemed more like a brooder than a sportsfan. Then again, the constant buzz of noise was good when you didn't want to give your thoughts a chance to really form full depressing sentences. Which... given the way he was holding himself, Emi could only assume it was low thoughts on his mind. It was out of place with everything else Emi had come to know about him.
(Unless it had something to do with that.)
It wasn't like Emi actually cared. He didn't. Even still, it was almost... intriguing was close, though callous, and that led him to stand in front of Mallory's seat at the bar. That and the fact that, you know, getting the man a drink was his job.]
Need something?
this day
Sports were alright, Mallory supposed. Combat ones moreso than team-based ones, and it was especially exhilarating to be the one competing, but if he had to settle for watching some guys chase around a puck on a rink instead, he could deal with it. At least some entertaining fights broke out on the ice half the time anyway.
He was only half-paying attention anyway, looking more for some mindless flashing images to keep his brain turned off (or at least at a lower volume) while he moped the night away. He pulled his focus down to Emi, eyebrows raising a little. Did all of his students work here...?]
Ah... yo. Just whatever's on tap. I'm not picky.
[Since he wasn't going to order the black cherry beer he wanted in front of someone who knew him...]
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There was a slight tilt to Emi's head as he gave Mallory a considering look. He really was having an off time, wasn't he? It seemed unusual for him to be so... almost absent-minded.
Well, anyway, he had an order to work with. Emi nodded, turning towards the taps while plucking up one of the chilled glasses. The brew that he slid in front of Mallory was innocuous enough, though if he stared into the creamy head long enough he might have seen a few glittering sparkles. It was legitimately just beer though, this time.]
Here you are.
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Boy he sure hoped Chou cleared that up by now. Ha. Ha ha.]
Thanks.
[He could swear that if he listened closely, each miniscule bubble of foam murmured out a cheery death aria as it popped and settled. And he wasn't even drunk yet. He eyed the drink with consideration, turning the glass in his hand without imbibing just yet.]
...Is your face okay?
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[Emi had just been hanging around to see if Mal could live with the drink or not. Usually if folks didn't like the pre-determined option that was 'whatever is on tap,' it meant that there was something else they actually wanted and just didn't want to ask for immediately for whatever reason. Casual inquiries about his face generally were not involved.
Caught off guard, Emi could only give him a confused look. It hadn't been bruised all that badly. Maybe he'd just been making a face.]
S'fine.
[That's all he really had to say about it.]
... How's the drink.
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He pondered this while he took an adventurous sip.]
-! ...Huh.
[Nothing at all like other beers he'd tried in the past. It felt like there was a rainbow in his mouth... That wasn't anything to be too concerned about, right?]
It's not bad...
[And he could hear it in his mouth, a chorus of cheerful whinnying, singing the praises of friendship and forgiveness, come on, give him A BREAK HERE. Maybe if he downed it faster it would leave him alone.]
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Yeah, that’s about the usual reaction to that one.
[The other usual reactions were bouts of elation and the smallest haze of rainbows whenever something spectacularly good was happening to their preferred sports teams. If Mallory wasn’t here to actually root for anyone, he was probably pretty safe from the rainbow connection tonight. If there had been any boxing on tonight, that might have been different, but there weren’t any matches on at the moment.
But not being here to root for anyone just brought him back to his original question.]
You’re not here to actually watch anything, are you.
[A statement of fact more than anything else. Emi sounded more bored about the statement than anything accusatory. He was going to get paid either way, so it really didn’t matter.]
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It was just the closest place when I felt like a drink. These seats reserved for sports fans?
[It wasn't that crowded...]
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also a day that you pick
Though...suddenly, the library got lonelier. When Luna didn't show up for work, she thought the worst immediately. She was there for that whole event when she had to take him for the clinic, and since he never missed a day otherwise...
That was when she found a note from him. Taking a leave of absence for a while. Why? Did something happen? She didn't expect Luna to specify, being Luna.
Of course, then, the first thing that came into her mind was Mal. So after work, she had plans to close up as soon as possible and head on out to the dorms. If Mal was there at his room, which she actually hoped...then well, she knew where she wanted to be. A knock.]
Mal? It's me. You home?
that day
So after a short silence he finally hauled his sorry ass over to the door, sliding it open.]
Yo. What's up?
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I haven't seen much of you today. Just wanted to stop on by for a visit.
[Easy come, easy go.]
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[He took a half step back from the door; she was free to come in if she felt like it, but he was ready to leave if she felt like taking this somewhere else too.]
Whatever, we can make up for it now.
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[She made a small tilt of her head as she decided to hop on inside, feeling better about the decision to do so more and more since the de-trapping. But for now, the small talk was working so she was just going to accept the invitation for now and wait and see. If they needed to leave, she would make the suggestion.]
Work was just pretty dull, is all. Duller than usual. Time just goes there to die.
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[Not like something as dumb as settling disputes between employees. HR IS THE WORST.]
Books are probably a hell of a lot more fun than I am, anyway.
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I couldn't begin to tell you how many people come in asking for "a book in the blue cover".
[Seriously, Mal. If you see a certain fixture at some point, now you kind of know in advance.
It was all lighthearted until the second remark came around, and it was just about when she already made her station on the floor, a few paces from the futon, backpack placed with a resounding plop next to her. Riye was just about to get comfortable, but all of the sudden...there was that.]
Come on. I came over here.
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He's been without Luna's company for much longer, when he was overseas and left him and Peony behind to do their own work towards their common goal. But this time, for the first time in months, he's alone and all of the sudden it's so much emptier than he ever noticed before. So that sad, simple comfort is all he has.
The tension eases out of his shoulders only slightly when she pauses, and he frowns.]
Yeah, but you're a weirdo. [He means it nicely. He's one too, after all.] I guess I am a little thankful. I was starting to feel lonesome.
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[hand over heart emote]
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hhhh
B)
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whatever day.....
He didn't stick around for too long, he had work to do, a boxer to avoid, and feelings to attempt to slip away from. He was bad at that, though. When he felt, he felt big time, and it clung to him during a generous chunk of the day.
Also, Mallory was . . . Weird, that day he made eggs. Forget who was boyfriend— who was Mallory? Maybe he should— look for him, or something?
The demi human is on his way to the forest for some "training" while Luna is away, a small bag behind his back that hid nothing but a small boost to stand on and a noose (it probably wasn't a good idea to walk around with that in the open), passing by The Dubliner to deliver Mr. Gimli a fleeting hello and some fruits for certain drink. He stops, right there midway through the doors with a crate over his shoulder; Nothing shook away the tension in his hitched arms when one of the first sights caught is of the brawny man sitting in the bars.
Ethan considers leaving the crate there and be on his way, maybe passing by later— He didn't even want a drink, he's had his for the month. It was just a minute to leave his farm delivery and be off to playing Russian Roulette with his IBM for the rest of the afternoon he had free.
It's a shame that the little clurichaun boss stumbling around his bar knows his preferred mutt when he sees him, hardly thinking to clap and waddle his way to the door, making Ethan shake his head and flinch— it's no use. He's going to be hardy. There's my lad! he squawks, smacking the boy's shins. Bwahah, y'know where t'put the goods, y'mutt, do it quick! Y'got a cold one waitin' on ya'!
Ah, crap. Does he need to be so loud? (A taste of his own medicine, really). Looking over to where Mallory sits, Ethan sinks into himself, quietly declining and already moving behind the counter to take the fruit out back to stock. ]
Today's— not my day off, sir . . . Haha.
[ Tttttttime to keep moving, watching Mal from behind the crate he carries and stepping past him quicker than anywhere else around the bar. At least there's nothing of residue from impact induced blemishes on his face. It's crisp, clean and healthy, like nothing had broken a little less that two weeks ago. ]
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Only with a lot more drinking. He can stop any time, okay.
As it turns out, the bars aren't half as lonely for him as he suspected they would be. Or as lonely as he'd like. It's hard to lose oneself in dark, masculine brooding when every so often someone like a scarred old kappa or a bling-bedazzled tanuki would give him a wave or a clap on the back and talk about how much they missed him down at The Pit, and when was their prize fighter going to make a comeback? Mal was always surly toward anyone who brought up his less than savoury source of income in broad daylight like this (that's his charm point!), but he's even quicker to tell them to piss off now. So much so that he's started to keep himself on guard for anyone who seems to be approaching him so he can shoot them down before they even try.
So he notices the change in the crate-with-legs' pace as it nears him, and his harsh gaze whips toward it instinctively. Oh. None of the low lives of Koriko's seedy underbelly this time, just a dumb kid. That's so much better.]
Ethan.
[His voice is perfectly flat, maybe even a little tired sounding.]
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When his name is said in the most demonic way possible (that is an exaggeration), making him freeze mid step behind the bar's counters and stand. Completely still. Maybe if he didn't move, he wouldn't see him! T-rex vision! Except Mallory is totally not a dinosaur, and Ethan could only keep in one place for so long. Lowering a stiffened leg, the teen turns, crate still weighing over his shoulders but bothering him little, slowly turning his head to face the tired man's call.
Tired. He sort of looked tired, too.
Perhaps there hadn't been such a need to stare at him so widely? He said his name for like, the first time without messing it up. He remembered his name. Did that head trauma help his memory after it jogged—? ]
Mister . . . Mallory.
[ It's awkward, but. Um.
Here it is. Conversation. Tense and unsure as it was, especially on Ethan's part. ]
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He wrinkles his nose a little before turning back to the bar.]
Quit acting so jumpy.
[It's annoying, and it makes him jumpy.]
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[ . . . Trailing off, maybe he was a little bit, for his own obvious reasons. With a shift in his standing to distribute his weight, and with a quiet "it's okay" from one of the nearby bartender, he brings the crate from his shoulders to his arms, holding his breath as he lifts and sets the goods down to the floor, just where the space for cabinets and such should be.
What was he doing here, anyway?
He's intrigued. They were in quite the social place, surely nothing would happen here, right? With a swift exhale and a swing of his arms, he rides that awkward pause before deciding to break it himself. ]
Is . . . Your head any better?
[ Its better than "nice weather". ]
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But Mal does look back over at him at the question, eyebrows raised. Like he thinks he heard right but can't really connect it to any kind of context.]
What are you talking about? It's fine.
[Did he have a fall so bad he doesn't remember anything? Was it from the previous night of drinking? No, he would have felt it this morning for sure.]
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[ Not that Mallory probably remembers it at this point. Ethan has to rub his neck before urging himself to speak again, standing closer to the bar to avoid getting in the way. ]
You said you hit your head? You couldn't even remember who I was. [ He pauses. Um— ] Remember my eggs? You scared the shit out of me in the kitchen?
[ ???? ]
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[Wait... Is this something that happened while he was stuck in Chou's body?]
Sure, right, I remember now. [He sure hopes it wasn't anything important.] I just had too much to drink. --Look, forget about that. There was something I wanted to ask you about. Sit down.
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