Log; ONGOING

[anotherstrategy.livejournal.com]

When; The morning of the 27th February, following this night before.
Rating; TBA
Characters; Ishida Mitsunari [afoxystrategy] and Sima Yi [anotherstrategy]
Summary; After a wild, drunken and uncharacteristically happy night out, two ill-tempered strategists in drag wake up. Oh dear.
Log;

As the first hints of wakefulness began to encroach on Sima Yi's sleep, a number of warning signs began to emerge. There was an unusual chill on his skin; there was slightly more background noise beginning to register than there should have been; a number of aches suggested that he had not gone to sleep on his bed; there was an unpleasant taste and dryness in his mouth; a horrible feeling of nausea was starting to make itself known; and he was half-slumped against something fairly warm.

However, what really ended up breaking his doze was a persistent tickle at his neck.

Still mostly asleep, he lifted a hand to bat whatever was causing it away, but missed, instead lightly knocking his hand on the something against his side.

Or rather, the someone.

In a rush, his mind snapped into awareness as the sudden realisation that he could not remember any of the how, or where, or whys hit. As if a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown on him, he jerked awake, and wide-eyed and utterly stunned, he discovered it to be none other than Ishida Mitsunari.

In smeared make-up, rather poor taste drag, and half a pink feather boa strewn across his shoulders.

His not-quite-fully-sober mind struggled to catch up with this turn of events, and so he simply stared in horror.

Comments

[afoxystrategy.livejournal.com]

The slight knock was enough to pull Ishida Mitsunari out of his sleep, and so his eyes fluttered half-open and he gave a slight snort. Who, exactly, had thought it necessary to come and disturb his sleep? His first thought was to reach out and find his blanket, but a sudden jolt of awareness informed him that there was a slight wind blowing across his skin... which meant...

No blanket. No room. A hard surface beneath him and something ticklish around his neck...

His eyes jerked open and he stared around, mind still slightly affected by the huge alcohol intake from the night before. The moment he saw Sima Yi, an expression of pure and utter horror filled him. The man looked... ridiculous. Women's clothes, make-up smeared all over his face, his hat (which Cao Pi had said was something he never parted from) gone. Feeling apprehensive, he glanced down at himself and saw that he too was wearing women's clothing... of the 'tight pink dress' kind.

A very, very, very black expression crossed his face as he looked back up at Sima Yi. What the hell had happened last night?

[anotherstrategy.livejournal.com]

Once the initial shock had passed, Mitsunari wasn't the only one in an extremely foul mood, and rage and accusation burned in Sima Yi's eyes. Instantly, he pulled himself away from the Japanese man, breaking the unwanted contact, and he knocked the hideous boa from his own shoulders and then quickly got to his feet.

A little too fast, in fact, and a wave of dizziness and nausea rose in him, but stubbornly he pushed it back to sneer down at Mitsunari.

He couldn't remember. He needed to. Moreover, he felt absolutely terrible, and far too disorientated.

He knew already that this was going to be a terrible day.

A breeze ruffled his loose, currently very unkempt and tangled hair, and it was enough to draw his attention to his own attire. He clenched his jaw tightly as he forced away a sudden stab of embarassment and shame, then with a hand, lightly tugged the back of his far too short miniskirt down.

This, of course, did nothing to alleviate the fearsome anger burning through him.

"You." he hissed at Mitsunari, and he glared for a moment, before he shut his eyes and pressed a hand to his temple.

'Think.'

[afoxystrategy.livejournal.com]

"Me?" hisses Mitsuanari in response, standing up and throwing the boa away as far as (s)he can manage.

He felt horrendous; a quick self-evaluation told him his stomach felt horrible, a unwelcome taste was washing around his mouth, his knee was badly scratched and his feet were killing him. Trying to remember the previous night was proving to be hard... but his eyes opened wide as he remembered making certain comments to Lady Nene at some point involving his... sexuality, which then brought on the memory of a certain song, and a certain dance...

Oh Gods. More than ever he wished Sakon was also in the City. He wouldn't have let him get into this situation.

The look of rage and general anger at the universe that passed across his face would have frightened small children, even wearing what he was now. Worse, he wasn't fully sober and was now facing a trip back to the Wei apartment, dressed as he was, unable to walk straight and with the certain knowledge that Cao Pi would be around to see it.

[anotherstrategy.livejournal.com]

Zhongda hmphed in return, deciding that it would be more than fine to just leave Mitsunari where he was; however, after a dozen brisk steps along the alley they were in, he quickly discovered just how silly an idea it was to move fast, and leaned forward, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth, while the other arm shot out so he could brace himself against the wall. A second later he swallowed heavily and straightened up, repressing a groan and taking a moment to breathe deeply and dispel the sickly feeling.

Obviously, there had been drinks. Far too many. For whatever reason, while cursed he had decided to help Mitsunari find friends, which had lead to joining some party run by a moronic drunkard.

Oh merciful heavens, and that wager.

It wasn't like he'd never made it before, but only in circumstances he knew he'd never fail. How had it lead to... well, this absurdity? No wonder he didn't drink much.

No... no, that wasn't it. It wasn't simply drunken antics. That damn curse had certainly played a big part in it.

He would never be happy again if he could help it.

"Damn this ridiculous city!" he raged under his breath, before he began to move again, this time at a far more careful pace.

Only when he reached the exit onto the street did it truly occur to him that the situation was getting worse with each new revelation. Worse yet, they were both associated with Wei. The ridiculous spectacle they made wouldn't reflect well, without them having to worry about being lost, too. Cao Pi would doubtlessly have enough to say on the matter without the added hassle.

It looked like they had no choice but to work together.

Looking over his shouler with a scowl, Sima Yi remarked in a harsh tone, "Well? Hurry up!"

He turned back, and winced as the bright sunlight made his head swim, then squinted for a second time at their surroundings. "Do you recognise this street or not?"

[afoxystrategy.livejournal.com]

Mitsunari grunted, rolling his eyes. Walking at a slow, sensible pace, and fully aware of the fact that he was going to be stared at like a moron, he joined Sima Yi on the street. Thankfully, it was one he recognised, and it wasn't overly far from the apartment... though neither was it that close.

"Yes, I do, actually," he replied, voice dripping with venom. "From here, we're about 10 minutes away. We need to go that way."

He grunted, and began to march along the path, trying to ignore the various sniggers from all around. Damn the City and damn it's ridiculous curses! Could it DO anything more to humiliate him? Anything at all?

A certain memory cropped up....

Apparently it could.

"Oh DAMNED DAMNED PHOTOS!" he sneered.

There was every chance those photos would find their way around the City. Just great!

[anotherstrategy.livejournal.com]

All Mitsunari got for his answer was a flickering side-glance and a huff; however, Sima Yi kept pace. The benefit of walking by the other strategist was that the pink of Mitsunari's dress and the red of his hair made him the real focus of attention out of the pair.

As much of a miniscule victory that was, the more Zhongda walked, the more he had a sneaking suspicion that his miniskirt has a terrible habit of riding up. Eventually, it got to the point where one hand stayed behind his back, keeping the offending wear held down. It was already bad enough being a laughing stock without any further exposure.

Sufficed to say, with the snickering they were already receiving, Mitsunari's outburst was far from comforting.

"Photos." he echoed incredulously, and a measure of dread settled in his stomach as his muscles tensed at the thought.

His reputation would suffer, which was hardly what he needed with Shu and Wu around. The fact he kept a low profile was only a minor comfort; to be associated with crossdressing, especially with Mitsunari... the only way it could get worse was if Zhuge Liang had somehow become involved in the whole sordid affair. Would it really be too much for the heavens to spare him from Kongming getting any wind of this whole fiasco?

No memory of any photo came to him, however.

"Tell me you also have a recollection of who took them."

The terseness of his statement belied that he didn't expect there would be a satisfying answer.

Wonderful.