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[Otacon did frequent the bars of the Nexus just to drink casually. He had taken a liking to some of the odd beers the Nexus was supplied with. This particular bar, however, wanted its visitors to drink a little more heavy. Emmerich looked up and noticed - ]

Shots Drank : 0/3

[ - above his head. The doctor looked at all the gin, vodka, rum, sake, and all other types of hard liquers that were available. He figured this effect room was the same as the other ones he had been in. He had to fill his counter to leave because the room would be inescapable otherwise. The man grabbed a spiced rum bottle and began to pour himself his first shot in a glass.]

Here goes nothing.

((OOC: There's only one little twist - People with nanomachines, cyborgs, machines, and others can get drunk in this room even if normally they couldn't. Drink 3 or more to leave.))

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[It's been a long time since Liquid's heard that gruff laugh. It makes him smile despite himself.]

Of bastardry? That being liked doesn't matter as long as you're respected and feared.

But with Hal it's different.

[And despite himself, Snake might actually be relaxing a bit.]

[Now that sounds more like the Liquid he knows. Save for that last part. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it.]

Otacon's a hard guy not to like.

[groans] I know. What is it that makes it practically impossible not to care about him?

[frowns] Somehow that other self of mine was immune.

[He falls silent, looking blankly up at Liquid's ceiling, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.]

[Because for all he's dismissed the philosophy, the hypotheticals; for all he's trying to keep up a calm front, the thought of that other world makes something deep and primitive and protective inside him so very angry.]

[Not so much because Liquid had killed him, exactly. (Sure, it wasn't exactly a point in his favor, but Snake had no delusions of immortality, and he remembered that fight all too well.) But that Liquid had taken one of the few people who had ever given a damn about him and broken him down.]

[Liquid is silent for a while. Snake is brooding loudly enough for the both of them.]

[He can tell what that look of constrained anger is for.]

[quietly] Believe me, Brother. I want him dead all the more for that he's wearing my face.

[He can't really help it. It's a reflex at this point.]

Hnnngh.

[He sighs, frustrated and tired and already fed up with this whole place and its annoying habit of not making a damn bit of sense. Liquid is being entirely hospitable and reasonable and somehow that isn't really helping.]

[A little irritably.] So do those count as suicidal tendencies or what?

I prefer to call it fratricide.

That, I'm used to.

[Good job, Liquid, you've made him tense up again. He casts a sharp look over at his twin before looking quickly away.]

Right.

[Snake's body language is loud.] I tol you, I'm not going to kill you. It does me no good.

It's your death that hurt him so badly.

[He takes a breath, exhaling slowly.]

Sure. That's the turning point, isn't it?

[But he sort of knows what Liquid is getting at. Even if Otacon had only known him for a few hours before he fought REX. Still, you can't attribute all that to a lost ally.]

Your death is the loss of his hope.

All he's left with is me.

Left with him.

[For some reason, the distinction is important. He looks back toward the bedroom door where Otacon is sleeping.]

And what about here? Now?

Here?

He has whatever and whoever he wants.

A regular paradise, huh?

[A few weeks ago he would have considered actually wanting to stay here in this place to be inconceivable.]

What's the catch?

[And even if he hasn't been here long, he's heard of people disappearing mysteriously. If Otacon does go back to his own world somehow then Snake won't be able to do a damn thing for him. He doesn't like feeling helpless.]

The catch is that we're trapped, there's no telling if you'll ever go back or if you'll remember anything if you do, and there isn't even death.

Also, that the people here aren't always pleasant company. As I'm sure you've noticed.

Sounds about right.

[And he hates the idea of being played with like that. Of being trapped anywhere against his will.]

So that's true, huh? People here can come back from the dead.

[He'd heard as much before, but a particularly pissy (and dead) Liquid does not a reputable source make.]

Can't help it, in fact. Three days appears to be the standard length.

[his teeth grit] I'd kill that other self of mine, but he's clever enough to take it out on Hal when he gets back.

[Something about that is just wrong. Even before coming here, he'd seen people who were supposed to be dead come back: Big Boss, Fox, even Liquid. It never ended well.]

He wouldn't get the chance.

But don't bother. There's no point.

There isn't, is there.

[Liquid gets up and goes to the kitchenette, where he pulls a bottle and glasses out of a cupboard]

I'm feeling the need for a drink. Whiskey?

[He shook his head. For a three-day respite? Not really. That's just revenge. Killing for the sake of killing.]

...

[It's a little unnerving how Liquid seemed to have read his mind. Three shots really hadn't been enough.]

Hm. Yeah. Alright. Sounds good.

[When it comes to need a drink, they're on the same wavelength.]

[Liquid pours a generous amount for Snake and himself and returns bearing the glasses.]

[It's strange to be alone with Snake again. A Snake. It makes something in him ache.]

Now. What are we going to do about him?

[Strange to be alone like this with Liquid, too. Let alone agree with him about anything.]

[He sits up from where he had been leaning to accept the drink. Doesn't even ask if he's poisoned it. (Though he does prop one foot up on Liquid's coffee table to be a pain.)]

"We," huh?

Maybe we ought to ask him.

[Liquid can feel Snake's tension. It's easy to read a reflection of your own body.]

[He gives Snake's foot on his table a look, then makes it very clear that he's choosing to ignore it.]

We. [He sips from his glass.] That is, if you choose to help.

What he wants to do. I suppose we could. [he frowns.] My alternate could have him so twisted that he would try to go back, or blame himself.

[He's too stubborn and he hasn't been here long enough for all of this not to make him uneasy.]

Don't be stupid. [Like hell he's just going to run off.]

Better to find out how he feels, then, huh?

[He wouldn't be one of the twin Snakes without the stubbornness.]

Good. It's probably best he have someone other than me to rely on. [Oh, the volumes of self-loathing behind that.]

We'll have to ask him when he wakes up. [with gallows cheer] If he despises me, it's a good sign.

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formerfoxhound.livejournal.com - 2010-09-11 09:51 (UTC) - Expand

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