AND WE MEAN TO GO ON AND ON AND ON -
Name: Dire Veld (Only so many anagrams for Red Devil xD; My apologies)
Personality: Dire is a garrulous, outgoing, and daring sort of individual, much as his name suggests. He’s a bad boy, and well is he aware of it, making no effort to hide it and shrugging off mistakes with a carefree attitude towards sins committed. He is fully capable of feeling guilt, but in most scenarios, it will seem as though he feels no regret at all. Possessed of a slow-burning temper, it’s hard to set him off, but once you do, better clear out of his way, as even as small as he is, he’s likely to make a very large, catastrophic mess. Tackling everything with enthusiasm, Dire doesn’t believe in a situation that he can’t win, and will retry things with a stubborn tenacity until a solution is found. He is also a slightly quirky individual, and will pick up small habits or patterns of speech depending on whom he’s around at any given moment, often in an attempt to impress. A chronic flirt, he’s well aware that he’s quite the handsome little devil.
Prompt: Red Devil wakes up to a pounding headache, a circle of disbelieving faces and Maxwell's knowing grin. "Wild night." He says, "you sure know how to celebrate!" At his words, last night's incredible events come rushing back at him like a sledgehammer…
Simply recount what happened last night – anything goes, but remember C*cktails can't get drunk on alcohol. wink
( I have permission from Thy to yoink Kisuke for this entry XD )
There was a clear, stifling sense of hostility emanating from the dashing C*cktail perched upon the bar, sitting, head upturned, arms crossed over his tiny chest as he sent a heated glare towards the recipient of his raging green envy. Crimson eyes narrowed, meeting brilliant tangerine as Dire’s caretaker finally acknowledged him, and a slow, knowing smirk spread over the kitsune’s face. Katsutoshi was an adult after all, an adult Hyte at that, and unlike the also adult C*cktail, Katsu could, and was currently, indulging in the pleasure that was a tasty, volatile mixture of mind-numbing alcohol.
“Hey there, bitty britches.” A tease from the kitsune, his furred tail flicking back and forth behind him on the barstool, as he knew just how much ribbing the C*cktail’s height rankled. It was something that he’d always done, ever since Dire had emerged from his glass, and damn was it annoying just now. Raising his glass, Katsu sipped it delicately, “You see this? Do you know what it is?” A rather regal, superior arch of a brow. Rubbing it in? Oh yes he was!
Smiling entirely too happily for the situation he was currently in, the smile evaporating the frown from his face, the redhead replied, “Yes. I bloody well watched you order it, remember?” Only slightly patronizing. As much as Dire was fond of the other, Katsu had a very noticeable, irritating effect on him some days, especially when the kitsune had imbibed alcohol. “It’s a Grateful Dead.” A drink that tasted absolutely delightful, as his oh so gracious caretaker had let him have a sip of that same concoction once or twice. Not that Dire was allowed that happy little tipsy sensation, the one that plastered that goofy grin on the amber-haired male’s face and made those black-tipped ears wiggle in undisguised pleasure. Oh life was so immensely unfair!
“Mmmhmm…” A slightly lilting sound, “A Grateful Dead… Tequila, vodka, light rum, gin and raspberry liqueur... “
“Shake ingredients, pour over ice in a collins glass, and serve…” Muttered Dire, knowing far too well the contents of the alcohol-heavy beverage and how it was made. Hanging around here as he did, Dire had made of himself an expert. He didn’t drink, however, save when he was sitting around impressing the patrons and making idle chit-chat with those he found particularly attractive…even if they were a whole lot bigger.
“Oh yeah…” A sly wink came as follow-up. “A shame you can’t realize the punch this baby packs…but then…you can’t get drunk at all. Nothing to get you hyped up…damned ironic, considering all that’s in your make-up…” Trailing off, he just let the sentence hang.
Well blast, was more challenge than Dire liked to ignore, especially coming from Katsu, arrogant fiend that he was. If Dire was the bitty britches well the kitsune was most definitely getting too big for his own! Pursing lips as the scowl returned, brows furrowing in frustration, Dire steepled his fingers, legs swinging idly off the side of the bar as he considered just how to level the playing field and return the challenge, smack the other with the proverbial glove.
There were things that effected people, such as alchohol…other than alcohol…just like…
Snapping his fingers, Dire jumped up, afire with sudden passion as his brilliant grin returned, eyes a-twinkling with glee. “All right, pet, let’s try something!” Sensing eyes on the both of them, he cast a glance over his shoulder to see a certain bartender had caught wind of their wee duel of egos, “Maxwell! Come be my witness! Katsu! I challenge you to…” Inserting a dramatic pause for effect, he straightened to get the most out of his full 24 ½ inches, wound back his arm and then pointed at the kitsune, “…a drinking game!” There, now let the other make of that what he would…Dire couldn’t wait to answer the questions his challenge surely had provoked.
Both brows raising incredulously, Katsu quite visibly stifled his seemingly golden opportunity to laugh at Dire, and instead, tilted his head, ears swiveling towards the other. “With…what sort of substance, might I ask?” He didn’t even bother to mention why alcohol wouldn’t work, as that was, after all, the entire problem that had obviously inspired this confrontation.
Leaning back, drilling fingers on his arm, tsking softly, Dire maintained his act, giving Katsu a look that insinuated that the answer should be common knowledge, and that Katsu was a dolt for not figuring it out instantaneously. “Why caffeine of course! I know what it does to me, and I sure as hell know what it does to you, chum…” Ah the good old teenage years, he’d heard stories from Katsu’s mum of wild caffeine-high nights before alcohol was a legal substance for the kitsune. “Shots of straight-up, old-fashioned espresso…whaddya say, chum?”
Glancing from Dire, and then to the onlookers, as the C*cktail’s adamant challenge had drawn curious gazes from all over the room, Katsu knew that he couldn’t very well back down. Not that he would really want to, as he was fairly sure he could take his tiny opponent…even with a Grateful Dead already in his system. Flashing fanglets in a wide, confident grin, matching his charge in enthusiasm, Katsutoshi nodded, “I accept your challenge, half-pint.”
With an already victorious fist-pump, Dire whooped in glee, “Then let’s get some espresso in this place!!!!!” Saving the rather embarrassing and flamboyant dance of success for his actual triumph over the smart-alec kitsune, the C*cktail went about his procuration of the weapons of his warfare: shot glasses, and a light-roast, high-caffeine espresso brew.
Some time later, the combat was underway. They’d chosen the suave Maxwell ( *winkwink* ) to judge the event, and at his signal to go, they’d started their first round of shots…though Dire’s glass was more in proportion to his own size, just to make things fair on his part, something that Katsu had agree to with a dismissing wave.
Downing each shot as though it was the very elixir of the gods, Dire began to feel the effects of the stuff far more quickly than he’d initially anticipated, and not half an hour later, both kitsune and C*cktail were reeling, watching each other over the table with too-wide eyes, shifting and fidgeting with a pent-up energy that clouded their judgment in a way entirely different than alcohol would have.
Giggling, Dire reached with a shaking hand for another shot, “This…so cannot be healthy…” He mused, eyeing the deep brown liquid before pressing the glass to his lips. The pile of empty cups was stacking up, and now their audience, who had been cheering them on, seemed almost, as a whole, worried, save for the more inebriated patrons, who continued their boisterous support despite the silence of their fellows.
Katsu…eyeing his own glass with little enthusiasm, smiled at the unwanted beverage brightly. Blinking rapidly, he slowly cocked his head to one side, and then the other, before setting the glass down on the table. “I don’t think I should drink anymore…” He responded carefully, though his current careful was still a tad faster than his usual pattern of speech. The usually energetic kitsune was clearly bouncing in his chair, tail an orange/white blur as it wiggled back and forth, swaying from side to side with each movement.
With a purely evil grin, Dire put both hands on the bar, “Then…VICTORY IS MINE! Suck it, fox-boy!” He announced to the entire bar. And now, oh my! All this energy and no place to go! Whatever should he do? Pulling himself up onto the slick counter, he proceeded to do this most energetic victory dance that he’d ever put himself into, complete with plenty of jazz hands, gyrating of hips, and shimmies from side to side. A few of his more enthusiastic supporters joined in, much to his personal glee and satisfaction. Oh yeah, there would be a party in this place tonight. Motioning to Maxwell to turn the music up, he started an impromptu dance party on the floor, whilst maintaining his position atop the bar, careful not to leave marks on the shining surface with his beautifully polished shoes.
Katsu, rolling his eyes, slid from his chair to go snag the clawed hand of the slightly disoriented tanuki male that had made his way into the bar. If there was to be a positive use for this energy that he had now, well, he was going to expend it with Kisuke…that is, if the mild-mannered male could keep up with his fiery fox on a caffeine high.
Making himself the center of attention, just the way he liked it, Dire upped the ante for the party on the dance floor, with more daring moves…as he had the agility and daring needed to pull off such things, inching his way towards an enthusiastic attempt at break-dancing…so flashy was he becoming (not to mention the sense of impending danger that came every time he came close to the bar’s edge) that he garnered an audience once more…and when Katsu led a winded Kisuke to the bar, Dire paused, panting, in a striking pose as the song hit its last notes, and ambling over to his guardian and said tanuki boyfriend, he smiled charmingly, bouncing on his heels. “Heeeeey~” He drawled, sneaking in close even as Katsu arched a warning eyebrow at him.
With a smirk and a wink to prelude his kamikaze move, he leaned up and in, and before Katsu could stop him…he went and stole a peck from the lips of the tanuki, finding them sweet, soft, untainted by alcohol or coffee. Taking a step back then, with a dazzling grin, he admired his handiwork.
Katsu was speechless, staring at him all goggly-eyed, emotions flitting across his face, though more outrage than anything. Kisuke was flushing red, utterly mortified by the brazen action. “D-Dire…?” He sputtered, glancing between his lover and the sassy, smug little redhead who had ‘victory’ practically written across his forehead in glowing letters.
“DIRE VELD!” The wrath of the kitsune now full-blown, and the hype of the caffeine not helping anything, Katsutoshi rose to his full height, and smacked at the scoundrel who had just stolen a kiss from his Kisuke!
Dire, hearing his full name invoked, did the wisest thing that could be done in such a situation. He ran like hell. Leaping from bar to barstool and then down again, he chanced a glance over his shoulder to see if Katsu was gaining on him. Veering away from his pursuer, he missed a very crucial point in his getaway: Actually looking where he was going. And what do you know? There was a wall there…a nice, very firm, unyielding wall…something he noted as his head connected with it. Falling flat on his back, he blinked dizzily up at the ceiling. “Well bollix…” he muttered, as the last thing he saw was a whole circle of eyes peering down on him…and then there was lovely, lovely unconsciousness.
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"…you sure know how to celebrate!"
Running fingers through ruffled crimson locks, Dire shrugged easily as he veeeery slowly sat up. Ah, the luxury of a caffeine hangover, not to mention the noticeable bump on his noggin…he was so going to need about ten advil. “But of course…whaddya expect from the best, eh?”
A pause then… “Is Katsu still mad at me?”
“Let’s just say you’re sleeping on the floor for a while…” That spoken with a certain thrum of impending doom from the kitsune behind him.
“Oh bloody hell…”
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