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tampered2007-03-21 10:57 pm
sciencedaughter.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-03-21 10:57 pm
Log; Complete
When; March 17th, [backdated]
Rating; PG?
Characters; Nemu {![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sciencedaughter} & Ulquiorra {eyezen_sama}
Summary; Take two perfectly logical, scientific and improperly socialized people. Add alcohol. Large amounts of alcohol, plus a desire in both parties to become quite drunk. Do the math and enjoy the idiocy, it will probably never happen again!
Log;
Ulquiorra had intended to bath early in the morning, look over a few notes from what little information he could gather from the impostor Shinigami's descent into something like madness, and then set out to observe the day's events. However, turning on the shower, he was appalled to find dark, terribly smelling liquid pour from it. Confused, and rather put off, he moved to try what Nemu had introduced to him as coffee--a strong drink that he was slowly developing a taste for. This, too, was cold and thick and completely unlike what he expected. It tasted thick like bread and while he did not enjoy the taste at all, he soon found himself finishing the coffee mug.
"Interesting." he murmured, going about the various places water would flow in his small space to find that everything had turned to the dark liquid. It was some sort of beer, but none that he had ever tasted before. He wondered idly if his kin or others had the same problem. Taking one last drink of the stuff, he walked out to go and ask one he knew to be equally interested in such a phenomenon.
Nemu had finally left Cal to his own devices for a while, promising to rejoin him later, they were both slightly drunk by this time, had started quite early on, but she supposed once she stopped imbibing the alcohol her system would flush the poison from her body. Which is why she hadn't stopped, determined to finally broach the intoxication limits others found easy to achieve. The knock at her door was unexpected, was she expecting company? She supposed she could be, she was having a slight problem with her episodic memory. Standing, almost stumbling, she took a second to right herself.
The creation still didn't quite understand why anyone would drink for fun, this was sort of an experiment for her, but, she didn't pretend to understand many things. Tugging the door open, she had a brief struggle with the lock; she blinked surprised at the Arrancar in front of her, one hand holding the door still and the other with a glass in hand. "Ulquiorra, how're- what a pleasant surprise." She murmured, deciding on the latter statement after a brief mental dilemma.
Blinking slightly at Nemu's obvious state of intoxication, Ulquiorra was surprised by a slight flash of disappointment through him. He did not enjoy when others were further along in understanding something than him.
"I see you've discovered the problem with the pipes," he remarked simply, waiting for a moment until entering the building. He did not feel any nervousness being in her room, despite the activities that consistently took place during the irritating days his mind and body would not cooperate. Perhaps it was because of what he had already drank.
"Yes. Yes." Nemu closed the door behind him, staring at the lock for a moment, brow furrowing before she finally turned it. "Yes." She repeated again, not quite positive if she'd said the affirmative yet or not. Turning, she took a sip from the drink in her hand, making a face of distaste. It really was a foul concoction.
"Was going to drink today, anyway... Cal said it's tradition on this holiday." A nod, reassuring herself. "And... wanted to test how long it would take for my alcohol con- consumption to overtake my detoxification rate."
"What holiday?" he inquired, moving to her kitchen. It did not seem proper to allow her to drink alone--humans made that out to be quite a dour practice. Besides, she did have so much of the substance around. The whole city did, really.
He glanced back at her, noticing the slight sway in her stance. It was, upon careful consideration, almost amusing. "How much have you drank?"
She tried to remember. She had to count twice, came up with two different figures, so did it again. “Eighteen canned varieties, twelve ounces each, and about five glasses from the sink…” The creation walked slowly, concentrating on not swaying much, and sat, more like flopped, onto the couch she had been sitting on earlier. She could hazily recall giving him alcohol before, and the results working pretty quick, considering. She supposed he was just “easy” to make drunk, however that was phrased. And Nemu didn’t know, so, unlike usual, she didn’t worry about it.
“It’s Saint Patrick’s Day!” She finally answered the question, setting down her glass to fiddle at her hair, trying to undo the tie at the end of her braid. “It’s…. Catholic religion, and there’s apparently… lots of drinking and debauchery and… green.”
"That does not sound like what I know of this Catholic religion." Taking a drink, he walked to sit across from her in a chair, eyebrows raised at her behavior. It was quite out of character for her to be so... unrestrained. He knew that alcohol did this to anyone who drank enough to be affected, but he had never thought her to be able to be such. Though she had drank quite a bit..
"There seems to be a trend of debauchery and drinking here. Now it is merely helped along.." Ulquiorra took another drink, feeling unnatural warmth begin to take hold.
"S'what I thought." Nemu nodded sagely, as if feeling very wise. She shifted about, finally managing to free her hair from the tie that held the braid and beginning to run her fingers through the black, occupying her hands in between sips of her drink. She felt restless, she couldn’t describe it any other way.
“This City always makes me do very improper…” She paused, closing her eyes for a moment, forgetting she had started speaking already. “This City always makes me do very improper things, yes, it does…” The creation smiled suddenly, broader than what was normally seen in her range of expression. “Like that last one.” She pointed vaguely towards the wall behind the Arrancar, said wall at which she’d had a bit of, well, it had been fun on the curse day at any rate.
Peering at her, Ulquiorra decided that she looked much more attractive with her hair down.. If he thought about people looking attractive or not, which he did not normally do. Her open manor was a tad but unsettling, however, and he took another long drink in the hopes of calming his nerves.
"What last one?" he blinked, hoping she wasn't referring to what he really didn't wish to speak about. "When we...?"
“Mmmhhhmm…” Nemu nodded again, smiling as if amused. And she was, which was strange, considering that event had not previously amused her as much as confused her, considering how unlike her dominance was, usually she followed orders, obeyed, submitted. She took another drink, idly noticing she needed a refill soon. Oh well. Fingers tangled in her hair, brushing it out over her shoulder.
“And…” She looked up, thinking. “The other times too… not as improper as the wall-time, but probably improper anyway, not that I really mind, I liked it, but still… probably improper anyway.” The vice captain seemed to have gained a penchant for repeating herself.
"You liked it?" he said flatly, or tried to say flatly, but the drink was taking affect and the voice that came out was quite strained and a little high. He didn't know what to think about that. He didn't really want to think about it, but his mind kept returning to it in a curious, detached way. Did he like it? Ulquiorra had no idea.
"Oh well. Well, curses..." he took a deep breath. He must maintain his composure at all costs. "Curses do that. Trashy, those curses. Like a bug I want to squash but can... cannot because well you see, the bug is very fast or powerful or something… and..." He paused again, realizing that he was probably speaking above her level of comprehension. Above his own, as well. "Well you understand."
She nodded once more, standing somewhat unsteadily and walking slowly into the kitchen to refill her drink. “Of course, that’s the point of sexual activity, you know.” She called from the other room. “To enjoy it. To find pleasure in it.” And it came to mind that if he hadn’t enjoyed it he was a very good actor, but she wasn’t quite so drunk as to say that.
Nemu came back into the living room with a pitcher, hair loose and heavy around her shoulders, so as not to have to repeat the effort of standing. Instead of sitting back down on the couch, she plopped down in the chair next to the Arrancar, leaning over the arm and nodding again, a newfound favorite mode of expression. “I understand completely.” Her tone was entirely serious, setting the pitcher on the small coffee table and refilling her drink before downing it. Couldn’t let her body’s detoxification rate catch up to her alcohol consumption, oh no.
That she was drinking inspired him to continue to drink, and he poured himself another glass. It really didn't do to just sit and watch, after all. And the drink no longer seemed to taste as vile. "I know what the purpose is..." he trailed off, letting the topic drop, still finding it quite uncomfortable to talk about.
His mind rushed on to something else as he shifted to face her, peering slightly has his eyes refused to focus. "I can't see right... hmm..." Handing her his glass, he took out his eye for a moment and looked down at, distinctly amused by the odd double effect it gave him.
Intrigued and obviously amused, Nemu leaned over the arm of her chair unsteadily, drink held aloft in one hand and the other bracing against the furniture backing as she examined the eye. She’d seen it before, held it before, but it always fascinated her. Off balance, she righted herself by swinging bare legs over the chair arm and instead sitting on it rather than leaning, long hair tumbling forward only to be brushed out of her face irritably. Oh yes, that was why she usually kept it in a braid.
“… Maybe you should clean it.” She suggested slowly, trying to make sure each word was clear and precise, though the suggestion, were she in a more clear state of mind, would have made her cringe at the… mundane nature of it.
"I can't very well clean it right now." He sighed at the suggestion--so foolish! He had thought better of her than that. Sitting up as straight as he was able, then thinking better of it as he swayed, Ulquiorra set about explaining the situation, one hand on the chair arm.
"You see." He leveled her with a serious stare, probably quite disturbing with his missing eye. And his slightly vacant expression, his lips almost curling into an unnatural smile. "Right now... though I am not sure if... if you've noticed, but right now you see... All the… ah, all the water… It is not water any more. No, see. It is... what is this called again?" Raising his cup, he went to finish it off, only to realize he had already drank it all. Terribly irritating. Pouring himself another glass (and sloshing quite a bit over his hand), he took a long sip. "This is not water. No, its something very different. And to pu... put my eye in it wou... would be very strange! I would be seeing through brown!"
"That's right!" Nemu nodded at his wisdom, truly profound. She cocked her head to the side at his gaze, idly wondering if the black of the missing eye meant anything. As for the question, she nodded again. "Beer, s'beer." And she supposed it would be rather silly to wash something in beer, now that she thought about it, moving about on the chair arm restlessly, unable to sit still.
"How about wiping it, ah... gently?" She suggested, recalling members of the twelfth who wore glasses, and were constantly wiping them on their white lab coats. "Wiping it gently, because... it's an eye, not glasses or the like, so gently... because it's an eye, and eye's should be handled carefully, carefully and special... specially."
"No no no no." Ulquiorra shook his head vigorously, only to send the room spinning and he had to clutch at the chair with his free hand, gulping breath (despite the fact that he didn't really breathe). He would not be moving so quickly again. "I cannot do that because you see, it will hurt. I can still feel it, you know." It was quite the odd feeling, indeed.
"So I will just put it back in. And then I will be alright and I will see fine and drink more of this. You need to drink more too. There is a lot of it."
Nemu had hastily hopped off the chair arm to place a hand on the Arrancar's shoulder, though she was hardly steady on her feet herself. She frowned, waiting to start withdrawing the touch until he'd stopped swaying there. "How much more, do you think?" She asked curiously, drink still in hand and precariously balanced. "All day, do you think? Until we go unconscious or get sick or any number of things... people do while... drunk?"
"I want to be sick, not drunk." he said firmly, only noticing his mistake a few moments afterwards and marveling at his own foolishness. "Sick. Drunk. I don't want to be... I want to drink a lot. Yes. Right now that is the bestest idea, but being... being sick is not." Thoroughly convinced, he stood up and stumbled over to find more beer.
"How long is all day? What time is it?" he looked around for a clock, but he could not seem to make sense of the numbers. Perhaps it was in a different language?
"Long..." The creation answered, standing shakily herself and tottering after the Espada as carefully as she could manage, meaning she hit her knee quite hard on the table, but didn't really care, at the moment.
"Wait..." A thought occurred to her. "I'm drinking- I'm drinking because it's hard for me to get drunk and I want to do it at least once... why are- why are you drinking again?"
"Well that is a ridiculous question," he said, turning to face her. "I am drinking... d… drinking..." He took a long breath, spilling some liquid on the carpet as he swayed. "I am drinking because it is the right thing to do."
"But..." Nemu sat her drink down and tried to take his. "You're spilling... on my carpet." She didn't sound upset about it, really, merely stating in a slurred tone.
"I am?" Ulquiorra looked down to stare at the small puddle forming. Curious, he overturned the entire cup, watching it splash over his shoes. Interesting. He supposed that would be hard to wash out, but beer was currently flowing everywhere, so what did it really matter in the end? Only, now he needed another cup. "Why, why are you getting drunk?"
"Ulquiorra!" Nemu stomped one foot clumsily on the floor, though it made a sloshing noise instead of a thump. She snatched the empty cup from his hand as quickly as she was able, holding the container hostage and almost daring him to try and get it back with her glance. "Because- I've never before and... it's hard to do!"
Nemu, he decided, could look quite formidable when she wanted to. Nothing, of course, that would give him pause, but a lesser man... person.. Arrancar... well, they would most likely be shaking in their boots. "It is not difficult. It is quite easy. You are simply not very good at it."
Still holding his cup hostage, the shinigami shook her head heavily, loose hair swinging about her face. "No, no, I'm very good at it, it's taken me- it's taken me forever to get this way! Hard effort, lots of drinking!" The very idea she was not good at it was now something of a personal insult. "You're the one who’s not good at it!"
"I am very good at it!" Pushing past her for the pitcher on the table, he held it aloft as he swayed; rather perturbed that she thought he wasn't doing a good job. He did a good job in everything. "I am quite... quite drunk, mind you, and so there fore I am a good job!"
"But... You got drunk quicker, so... you... lose?" Push her, would he? Nemu's mouth quirked up into a smile and she sort of tip-toed towards him, reaching out quite obviously to shove him gently with both hands to see it he would topple.
Leaning back away from those hands, Ulquiorra found himself quite terribly over balanced. It was a strange sort of a feeling, since his senses were not working at their full function and therefore it was almost dream like. Except he didn't dream. But he imagined this was what a dream would feel like, hazy and dizzying and rather backwards.
The moment passed and he toppled back onto the floor, thoroughly bruising his backside. "That hurt." he remarked, rather surprised at the speed of his fall. Gravity, it seemed, worked quite well.
Being not terribly balanced herself, Nemu decided to let herself fall. Yes. Much more dignified than actually falling, letting oneself fall. She sort of plopped onto the carpet in front of him, legs akimbo, blinking a few times and still holding his empty cup.
"Whoops." She said with a small lilt, cocking her head to the side and noting with a brief dissatisfaction that her hair was tangling. "Sorry." She smiled a bit. "But you shoved me first."
"Oof." he said as she fell, although she did not land on him. It seemed he appropriate noise to be made, however. He blinked away some of the blurriness and regarded her with a long suffering stare.
"I did not shove you. I merely needed to get past you. And you.. you were in my way." The ground was rather comfortable and he seemed to have a little problem thinking straight. Or did thought really go in a straight line? Of course it didn't, it went round and round and... "I believe my head is spinning."
"That's shoving! Or... at least pushing!" Nemu protested as she clumsily tried to work a tangle out of her hair with fumbling fingers, putting his cup down to do so. At his comment about heads spinning, she looked back up at him, one brow arched.
"Lie down? Or... stop spinning yourself? Or... stop drinking- no, can't do that one." She suggested, watching him sway about where he sat. It didn't seem weird to her, however, that they were sitting in the middle of her living room, both quite drunk, and staining her carpet with alcohol.
"Spinning." he said with a nod, flopping back on his back with a slight wince--his mask knocked awkwardly against the carpet, which furthered the pounding in his head. He wasn't sure which he liked least--the pounding or the ticking. Or the spinning. "You are spinning, you.. person."
But she was quite right in that they could not stop drinking. Now, if only he could find a glass. Weren't there lesser beings who could get the glass for him? Wasn't he in control of countless individuals? Where were they?
"Nemu." She said with a smile. She stayed still for a moment, just watching him. And were she a little less inebriated she may have smiled at the sight of an Espada sprawled on her floor, but since she was quite drunk, she actually chuckled. Scooting closer, she sat beside his head, reaching for the fallen pitcher, that still held some liquid, still on its side. She filled his cup again and held it, if he wanted it she would relinquish it.
"You're awfully drunk." She stated the obvious, leaning over him to look him properly in the eyes, other hand holding back the curtain of her hair.
"And you are awfully..." he had no real reply, just blinking up at her, baffled at how she could appear like that. Hadn't she just been sitting? Ulquiorra that the world had ceased to make sense and it was perfectly natural to feel a little lost. He was perhaps the only being left who could remember the Old Way, The Way it Should Be.
"Awfully hair-full," he concluded, not daring to try and parry with the demon-like strands of her hair, but still mildly interested.
"Hair... ful..." She repeated with a smile. Silly. But she thought it was... well, that may have required more thought than she was willing to work on that the moment.
"I can tie it back again if you'd... if you'd like." She murmured, always concerned about pleasing whomever she was with, and making them comfortable. Thinking about comfortable made her think about his bone mask, that looked decidedly uncomfortable against the flat floor. With another small nudge closer, she gently lifted his head more onto her lap. There. That looked much less uncomfortable. Yes.
"Hn." he replied, her lap decidedly nicer to lay his head upon than some ridiculous floor. The floor had no right to be so hard and unyielding. But a problem was arising--the fact that Nemu's lap was so comfortable had him falling deeper into a daze, the swirling of his head taking on an almost hypnotic quality.
Ulquiorra knew what this was. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. He was falling asleep.
She didn't speak, recognizing the relaxation of muscles, the fluttering of eyes, as a descent into sleep. The creation could feel her own body, designed and built, working on detoxification every minute she did not imbibe more, but Ulquiorra... she sighed softly, a content noise, a hand gently running through his hair and over the bone mask. Nemu shifted once, slowly, to get more comfortable, leaning her back against one of the chairs and settling. No words, but she sat still and quiet, allowing him to sink into sleep against her. And she smiled.
Rating; PG?
Characters; Nemu {
sciencedaughter} & Ulquiorra {eyezen_sama}Summary; Take two perfectly logical, scientific and improperly socialized people. Add alcohol. Large amounts of alcohol, plus a desire in both parties to become quite drunk. Do the math and enjoy the idiocy, it will probably never happen again!
Log;
Ulquiorra had intended to bath early in the morning, look over a few notes from what little information he could gather from the impostor Shinigami's descent into something like madness, and then set out to observe the day's events. However, turning on the shower, he was appalled to find dark, terribly smelling liquid pour from it. Confused, and rather put off, he moved to try what Nemu had introduced to him as coffee--a strong drink that he was slowly developing a taste for. This, too, was cold and thick and completely unlike what he expected. It tasted thick like bread and while he did not enjoy the taste at all, he soon found himself finishing the coffee mug.
"Interesting." he murmured, going about the various places water would flow in his small space to find that everything had turned to the dark liquid. It was some sort of beer, but none that he had ever tasted before. He wondered idly if his kin or others had the same problem. Taking one last drink of the stuff, he walked out to go and ask one he knew to be equally interested in such a phenomenon.
Nemu had finally left Cal to his own devices for a while, promising to rejoin him later, they were both slightly drunk by this time, had started quite early on, but she supposed once she stopped imbibing the alcohol her system would flush the poison from her body. Which is why she hadn't stopped, determined to finally broach the intoxication limits others found easy to achieve. The knock at her door was unexpected, was she expecting company? She supposed she could be, she was having a slight problem with her episodic memory. Standing, almost stumbling, she took a second to right herself.
The creation still didn't quite understand why anyone would drink for fun, this was sort of an experiment for her, but, she didn't pretend to understand many things. Tugging the door open, she had a brief struggle with the lock; she blinked surprised at the Arrancar in front of her, one hand holding the door still and the other with a glass in hand. "Ulquiorra, how're- what a pleasant surprise." She murmured, deciding on the latter statement after a brief mental dilemma.
Blinking slightly at Nemu's obvious state of intoxication, Ulquiorra was surprised by a slight flash of disappointment through him. He did not enjoy when others were further along in understanding something than him.
"I see you've discovered the problem with the pipes," he remarked simply, waiting for a moment until entering the building. He did not feel any nervousness being in her room, despite the activities that consistently took place during the irritating days his mind and body would not cooperate. Perhaps it was because of what he had already drank.
"Yes. Yes." Nemu closed the door behind him, staring at the lock for a moment, brow furrowing before she finally turned it. "Yes." She repeated again, not quite positive if she'd said the affirmative yet or not. Turning, she took a sip from the drink in her hand, making a face of distaste. It really was a foul concoction.
"Was going to drink today, anyway... Cal said it's tradition on this holiday." A nod, reassuring herself. "And... wanted to test how long it would take for my alcohol con- consumption to overtake my detoxification rate."
"What holiday?" he inquired, moving to her kitchen. It did not seem proper to allow her to drink alone--humans made that out to be quite a dour practice. Besides, she did have so much of the substance around. The whole city did, really.
He glanced back at her, noticing the slight sway in her stance. It was, upon careful consideration, almost amusing. "How much have you drank?"
She tried to remember. She had to count twice, came up with two different figures, so did it again. “Eighteen canned varieties, twelve ounces each, and about five glasses from the sink…” The creation walked slowly, concentrating on not swaying much, and sat, more like flopped, onto the couch she had been sitting on earlier. She could hazily recall giving him alcohol before, and the results working pretty quick, considering. She supposed he was just “easy” to make drunk, however that was phrased. And Nemu didn’t know, so, unlike usual, she didn’t worry about it.
“It’s Saint Patrick’s Day!” She finally answered the question, setting down her glass to fiddle at her hair, trying to undo the tie at the end of her braid. “It’s…. Catholic religion, and there’s apparently… lots of drinking and debauchery and… green.”
"That does not sound like what I know of this Catholic religion." Taking a drink, he walked to sit across from her in a chair, eyebrows raised at her behavior. It was quite out of character for her to be so... unrestrained. He knew that alcohol did this to anyone who drank enough to be affected, but he had never thought her to be able to be such. Though she had drank quite a bit..
"There seems to be a trend of debauchery and drinking here. Now it is merely helped along.." Ulquiorra took another drink, feeling unnatural warmth begin to take hold.
"S'what I thought." Nemu nodded sagely, as if feeling very wise. She shifted about, finally managing to free her hair from the tie that held the braid and beginning to run her fingers through the black, occupying her hands in between sips of her drink. She felt restless, she couldn’t describe it any other way.
“This City always makes me do very improper…” She paused, closing her eyes for a moment, forgetting she had started speaking already. “This City always makes me do very improper things, yes, it does…” The creation smiled suddenly, broader than what was normally seen in her range of expression. “Like that last one.” She pointed vaguely towards the wall behind the Arrancar, said wall at which she’d had a bit of, well, it had been fun on the curse day at any rate.
Peering at her, Ulquiorra decided that she looked much more attractive with her hair down.. If he thought about people looking attractive or not, which he did not normally do. Her open manor was a tad but unsettling, however, and he took another long drink in the hopes of calming his nerves.
"What last one?" he blinked, hoping she wasn't referring to what he really didn't wish to speak about. "When we...?"
“Mmmhhhmm…” Nemu nodded again, smiling as if amused. And she was, which was strange, considering that event had not previously amused her as much as confused her, considering how unlike her dominance was, usually she followed orders, obeyed, submitted. She took another drink, idly noticing she needed a refill soon. Oh well. Fingers tangled in her hair, brushing it out over her shoulder.
“And…” She looked up, thinking. “The other times too… not as improper as the wall-time, but probably improper anyway, not that I really mind, I liked it, but still… probably improper anyway.” The vice captain seemed to have gained a penchant for repeating herself.
"You liked it?" he said flatly, or tried to say flatly, but the drink was taking affect and the voice that came out was quite strained and a little high. He didn't know what to think about that. He didn't really want to think about it, but his mind kept returning to it in a curious, detached way. Did he like it? Ulquiorra had no idea.
"Oh well. Well, curses..." he took a deep breath. He must maintain his composure at all costs. "Curses do that. Trashy, those curses. Like a bug I want to squash but can... cannot because well you see, the bug is very fast or powerful or something… and..." He paused again, realizing that he was probably speaking above her level of comprehension. Above his own, as well. "Well you understand."
She nodded once more, standing somewhat unsteadily and walking slowly into the kitchen to refill her drink. “Of course, that’s the point of sexual activity, you know.” She called from the other room. “To enjoy it. To find pleasure in it.” And it came to mind that if he hadn’t enjoyed it he was a very good actor, but she wasn’t quite so drunk as to say that.
Nemu came back into the living room with a pitcher, hair loose and heavy around her shoulders, so as not to have to repeat the effort of standing. Instead of sitting back down on the couch, she plopped down in the chair next to the Arrancar, leaning over the arm and nodding again, a newfound favorite mode of expression. “I understand completely.” Her tone was entirely serious, setting the pitcher on the small coffee table and refilling her drink before downing it. Couldn’t let her body’s detoxification rate catch up to her alcohol consumption, oh no.
That she was drinking inspired him to continue to drink, and he poured himself another glass. It really didn't do to just sit and watch, after all. And the drink no longer seemed to taste as vile. "I know what the purpose is..." he trailed off, letting the topic drop, still finding it quite uncomfortable to talk about.
His mind rushed on to something else as he shifted to face her, peering slightly has his eyes refused to focus. "I can't see right... hmm..." Handing her his glass, he took out his eye for a moment and looked down at, distinctly amused by the odd double effect it gave him.
Intrigued and obviously amused, Nemu leaned over the arm of her chair unsteadily, drink held aloft in one hand and the other bracing against the furniture backing as she examined the eye. She’d seen it before, held it before, but it always fascinated her. Off balance, she righted herself by swinging bare legs over the chair arm and instead sitting on it rather than leaning, long hair tumbling forward only to be brushed out of her face irritably. Oh yes, that was why she usually kept it in a braid.
“… Maybe you should clean it.” She suggested slowly, trying to make sure each word was clear and precise, though the suggestion, were she in a more clear state of mind, would have made her cringe at the… mundane nature of it.
"I can't very well clean it right now." He sighed at the suggestion--so foolish! He had thought better of her than that. Sitting up as straight as he was able, then thinking better of it as he swayed, Ulquiorra set about explaining the situation, one hand on the chair arm.
"You see." He leveled her with a serious stare, probably quite disturbing with his missing eye. And his slightly vacant expression, his lips almost curling into an unnatural smile. "Right now... though I am not sure if... if you've noticed, but right now you see... All the… ah, all the water… It is not water any more. No, see. It is... what is this called again?" Raising his cup, he went to finish it off, only to realize he had already drank it all. Terribly irritating. Pouring himself another glass (and sloshing quite a bit over his hand), he took a long sip. "This is not water. No, its something very different. And to pu... put my eye in it wou... would be very strange! I would be seeing through brown!"
"That's right!" Nemu nodded at his wisdom, truly profound. She cocked her head to the side at his gaze, idly wondering if the black of the missing eye meant anything. As for the question, she nodded again. "Beer, s'beer." And she supposed it would be rather silly to wash something in beer, now that she thought about it, moving about on the chair arm restlessly, unable to sit still.
"How about wiping it, ah... gently?" She suggested, recalling members of the twelfth who wore glasses, and were constantly wiping them on their white lab coats. "Wiping it gently, because... it's an eye, not glasses or the like, so gently... because it's an eye, and eye's should be handled carefully, carefully and special... specially."
"No no no no." Ulquiorra shook his head vigorously, only to send the room spinning and he had to clutch at the chair with his free hand, gulping breath (despite the fact that he didn't really breathe). He would not be moving so quickly again. "I cannot do that because you see, it will hurt. I can still feel it, you know." It was quite the odd feeling, indeed.
"So I will just put it back in. And then I will be alright and I will see fine and drink more of this. You need to drink more too. There is a lot of it."
Nemu had hastily hopped off the chair arm to place a hand on the Arrancar's shoulder, though she was hardly steady on her feet herself. She frowned, waiting to start withdrawing the touch until he'd stopped swaying there. "How much more, do you think?" She asked curiously, drink still in hand and precariously balanced. "All day, do you think? Until we go unconscious or get sick or any number of things... people do while... drunk?"
"I want to be sick, not drunk." he said firmly, only noticing his mistake a few moments afterwards and marveling at his own foolishness. "Sick. Drunk. I don't want to be... I want to drink a lot. Yes. Right now that is the bestest idea, but being... being sick is not." Thoroughly convinced, he stood up and stumbled over to find more beer.
"How long is all day? What time is it?" he looked around for a clock, but he could not seem to make sense of the numbers. Perhaps it was in a different language?
"Long..." The creation answered, standing shakily herself and tottering after the Espada as carefully as she could manage, meaning she hit her knee quite hard on the table, but didn't really care, at the moment.
"Wait..." A thought occurred to her. "I'm drinking- I'm drinking because it's hard for me to get drunk and I want to do it at least once... why are- why are you drinking again?"
"Well that is a ridiculous question," he said, turning to face her. "I am drinking... d… drinking..." He took a long breath, spilling some liquid on the carpet as he swayed. "I am drinking because it is the right thing to do."
"But..." Nemu sat her drink down and tried to take his. "You're spilling... on my carpet." She didn't sound upset about it, really, merely stating in a slurred tone.
"I am?" Ulquiorra looked down to stare at the small puddle forming. Curious, he overturned the entire cup, watching it splash over his shoes. Interesting. He supposed that would be hard to wash out, but beer was currently flowing everywhere, so what did it really matter in the end? Only, now he needed another cup. "Why, why are you getting drunk?"
"Ulquiorra!" Nemu stomped one foot clumsily on the floor, though it made a sloshing noise instead of a thump. She snatched the empty cup from his hand as quickly as she was able, holding the container hostage and almost daring him to try and get it back with her glance. "Because- I've never before and... it's hard to do!"
Nemu, he decided, could look quite formidable when she wanted to. Nothing, of course, that would give him pause, but a lesser man... person.. Arrancar... well, they would most likely be shaking in their boots. "It is not difficult. It is quite easy. You are simply not very good at it."
Still holding his cup hostage, the shinigami shook her head heavily, loose hair swinging about her face. "No, no, I'm very good at it, it's taken me- it's taken me forever to get this way! Hard effort, lots of drinking!" The very idea she was not good at it was now something of a personal insult. "You're the one who’s not good at it!"
"I am very good at it!" Pushing past her for the pitcher on the table, he held it aloft as he swayed; rather perturbed that she thought he wasn't doing a good job. He did a good job in everything. "I am quite... quite drunk, mind you, and so there fore I am a good job!"
"But... You got drunk quicker, so... you... lose?" Push her, would he? Nemu's mouth quirked up into a smile and she sort of tip-toed towards him, reaching out quite obviously to shove him gently with both hands to see it he would topple.
Leaning back away from those hands, Ulquiorra found himself quite terribly over balanced. It was a strange sort of a feeling, since his senses were not working at their full function and therefore it was almost dream like. Except he didn't dream. But he imagined this was what a dream would feel like, hazy and dizzying and rather backwards.
The moment passed and he toppled back onto the floor, thoroughly bruising his backside. "That hurt." he remarked, rather surprised at the speed of his fall. Gravity, it seemed, worked quite well.
Being not terribly balanced herself, Nemu decided to let herself fall. Yes. Much more dignified than actually falling, letting oneself fall. She sort of plopped onto the carpet in front of him, legs akimbo, blinking a few times and still holding his empty cup.
"Whoops." She said with a small lilt, cocking her head to the side and noting with a brief dissatisfaction that her hair was tangling. "Sorry." She smiled a bit. "But you shoved me first."
"Oof." he said as she fell, although she did not land on him. It seemed he appropriate noise to be made, however. He blinked away some of the blurriness and regarded her with a long suffering stare.
"I did not shove you. I merely needed to get past you. And you.. you were in my way." The ground was rather comfortable and he seemed to have a little problem thinking straight. Or did thought really go in a straight line? Of course it didn't, it went round and round and... "I believe my head is spinning."
"That's shoving! Or... at least pushing!" Nemu protested as she clumsily tried to work a tangle out of her hair with fumbling fingers, putting his cup down to do so. At his comment about heads spinning, she looked back up at him, one brow arched.
"Lie down? Or... stop spinning yourself? Or... stop drinking- no, can't do that one." She suggested, watching him sway about where he sat. It didn't seem weird to her, however, that they were sitting in the middle of her living room, both quite drunk, and staining her carpet with alcohol.
"Spinning." he said with a nod, flopping back on his back with a slight wince--his mask knocked awkwardly against the carpet, which furthered the pounding in his head. He wasn't sure which he liked least--the pounding or the ticking. Or the spinning. "You are spinning, you.. person."
But she was quite right in that they could not stop drinking. Now, if only he could find a glass. Weren't there lesser beings who could get the glass for him? Wasn't he in control of countless individuals? Where were they?
"Nemu." She said with a smile. She stayed still for a moment, just watching him. And were she a little less inebriated she may have smiled at the sight of an Espada sprawled on her floor, but since she was quite drunk, she actually chuckled. Scooting closer, she sat beside his head, reaching for the fallen pitcher, that still held some liquid, still on its side. She filled his cup again and held it, if he wanted it she would relinquish it.
"You're awfully drunk." She stated the obvious, leaning over him to look him properly in the eyes, other hand holding back the curtain of her hair.
"And you are awfully..." he had no real reply, just blinking up at her, baffled at how she could appear like that. Hadn't she just been sitting? Ulquiorra that the world had ceased to make sense and it was perfectly natural to feel a little lost. He was perhaps the only being left who could remember the Old Way, The Way it Should Be.
"Awfully hair-full," he concluded, not daring to try and parry with the demon-like strands of her hair, but still mildly interested.
"Hair... ful..." She repeated with a smile. Silly. But she thought it was... well, that may have required more thought than she was willing to work on that the moment.
"I can tie it back again if you'd... if you'd like." She murmured, always concerned about pleasing whomever she was with, and making them comfortable. Thinking about comfortable made her think about his bone mask, that looked decidedly uncomfortable against the flat floor. With another small nudge closer, she gently lifted his head more onto her lap. There. That looked much less uncomfortable. Yes.
"Hn." he replied, her lap decidedly nicer to lay his head upon than some ridiculous floor. The floor had no right to be so hard and unyielding. But a problem was arising--the fact that Nemu's lap was so comfortable had him falling deeper into a daze, the swirling of his head taking on an almost hypnotic quality.
Ulquiorra knew what this was. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. He was falling asleep.
She didn't speak, recognizing the relaxation of muscles, the fluttering of eyes, as a descent into sleep. The creation could feel her own body, designed and built, working on detoxification every minute she did not imbibe more, but Ulquiorra... she sighed softly, a content noise, a hand gently running through his hair and over the bone mask. Nemu shifted once, slowly, to get more comfortable, leaning her back against one of the chairs and settling. No words, but she sat still and quiet, allowing him to sink into sleep against her. And she smiled.