(no subject)

[golden_lyre]

Orpheus has been outside for a few days now, and when he comes back indoors, he looks...tired, mostly.

He slides onto a stool at the bar and leans his guitar against the front. "Sweetheart," he says in a voice that is rough from overuse. "Can I get...."

Before he finishes, a bowl of soup accompanied by a hunk of bread appear in front of him. Also a bottle of ouzo, which he nudges to the side. "I'm trying not to."

The bottle vanishes and a pack of cigarettes appears instead, next to a large glass of water and an ash tray. Trading one vice for another, Orpheus opens the pack, taps out a cigarette, puts it to his lips and lights it with a Bic from his pocket.

He takes a long slow drag, exhales a cloud of smoke, and sets it down before actually turning his attention to his food.

(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

The door opens to the blast of a music festival afterparty. A blonde in a white halter top and very short cut off jeans, trips in through the door.

Laughs warmly, the blonde bounces over to the bar, begging a glass of water and a handful more condoms from the bar. All glittery lip-gloss and flower-crowns the blonde looks like any millennial dance party hippy chick.

(ooc: Feel free not to recognise Sinric as male, or as Sinric at all if you don't know him well enough. He's having a great night out.)

(no subject)

[troublesome_alchemist]

Mustang is doing a remarkable impression of a soaked, grumpy cat. He has a blanket, and a towel, and a warm seat by the fire... and he's just spent a night getting repeatedly soaked by icy water.

To say he's unimpressed is an understatement.

To top it all off, he's pretty sure he's coming down with a cold. If the Freezing Alchemist wasn't already dead, Mustang would be tempted to kill him all over again. Attempt a government takeover if you must, but doing so with water is just insulting.