No need. There will be plenty of other guinea pigs at the bar. ☆ Come on!!! Isn't drinking together the type of thing friends are supposed to do together?
I'm not going to hold your hair back if you start vomiting.
[ But he will at least drag her sorry ass back home and give her a glass of water.
The day of the BBB (Belated Birthday Bash) arrives without incident and they amble their way to the bar he'd drunk dialed her from. A deeply embarrassing night full of deeply embarrassing behavior as far as he's concerned, and silently he resolves to cut himself off after the first drink. It shouldn't be hard; he's not prone to fits of alcoholism.
Ema, on the other hand... ]
Are you really planning on drinking yourself under the table?
[ How many drinks would that even take....one and a half? She's tiny. ]
[ She's economical, is what she is. And she's at least stronger than Phoenix Wright, which isn't saying much, but at least she isn't the absolute worst at holding her liquor.
Since Eustace has already declared that he isn't willing to hold her hair back if she starts barfing, officially making him a bad friend, Ema comes defensively equipped today with a full, wild-looking ponytail. Look at what he's making her resort to. ]
It isn't a party until someone needs to get carted home, and I'd rather leave the heavy lifting to you.
[ That's a joke. Hopefully. She settles herself at a barstool and leans against the counter. ]
Don't tell me you're keeping it conservative? You're a great drunk.
[ That earns her a hefty scowl, because how is he supposed to forget about his drunken antics if she keeps bringing it up? ]
I can't [ how did she put it ] cart you home if I'm drunk.
[ Both of them will inevitably end up plastered on the sidewalk if he tries that and then where will they be? Hungover and still on the sidewalk by the time the sun rises behind the cloud cover the next day. So, no, he will not be getting wasted tonight. Someone needs to be the designated driver (walker?) between the two of them—or at least, that's his excuse for the night.
He takes the seat next to her and orders a glass of sake. He's here to celebrate their slow descent into old age, not to lose consciousness as fast as possible, which means no drinks that look radioactive in nature. ]
[ Ema glances around the bar, spots someone else with a mostly-gone mug of beer, and does an I'll-have-what-they're-having. Even when a robot clunks a fresh mug down for her, she puts a pause on drinking it right away, giving her chosen guinea pig some time to potentially go full horndog, or whatever fun effects the kids are getting hit by nowadays.
She's immune to Eustace's scowl and ignores it accordingly, instead peering at his drink of choice. Of course he got the old man alcohol... ]
I suppose. Well, there's always next time.
[ She'll see him drunk again someday, mark her words!! ]
By the way... did you do anything for your birthday?
[ He views their surroundings - and their drinks - with a touch less suspicion, though the sip of drink he takes is measured and small, a careful tread into unknown waters. If he ends up feeling frisky after a few minutes pass, then they'll know to end the party early and he can go lock himself up in the nearest bathroom while she trots on back home.
For now, he's content to enjoy the laidback atmosphere of the bar and Ema's company, even if one or the other (or both) will surely end up raucous before the night is over. ]
No. I don't usually celebrate my birthday.
[ It's just another day of the week, as far as he's concerned. ]
We celebrated the Captain's birthday though, back on the Grandcypher.
[ And that, quite frankly, had been enough noise and merriment to last him until the next round of celebrations. ]
Oh...? You all must be pretty fond of your captain. I can't imagine having a workplace bash for the Chief of Police.
[ And how about a party at the Prosecutor's Building for Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth? Hee. Heehee. Ema smiles at the thought of Edgeworth coolly showered in confetti. ]
What does a Captain-level birthday entail? Endless vittles and rum?
[ She is still imagining them living like pirates... ]
[ Arr, matey.... If he has his emo fringe instead of an eyepatch covering one eye, does that still qualify him as a pirate?
'Vittles and rum' is such a specific grouping of words that he looks over at her with brows pulled together. What kind of image does she have of skyfaring crews....? But he'll indulge her all the same, digging back in his memory banks for the last birthday party they held. ]
Lots of food, lots of drink. Decorations of all kinds depending on who's in charge. Performances depending on how drunk certain members of the crew get.
[ And many of them do often get drunk, imbibing a little extra in honor of a Captain that still can't indulge because GBF refuses to acknowledge the passage of time when it comes to character ages. He takes an internal check of his body - still the usual temperature, no strange urges rising out of nowhere - before taking another drink. ]
It's always an elaborate affair but none of us mind.
[ Because everyone in the crew is a goddamn simp. ]
[ Sometimes a tiny subsection of your vocabulary was formed by a policeman who was also a fake antiquated cowboy. Also, Eustace's description is doing nothing to disavow her of her pirate-themed notions. ]
Sounds like a lot of fun. It must have been something if even you didn't mind the commotion.
[ Eustace deserves to get his stick dragged out of the mud and into a shipwide party every once in a while. It's nice to imagine him somewhere lively and warm, somewhere that isn't this dead, incongruous island.
It's only been like a minute since they arrived here, but Ema's already impatient to get drinking. Guinea Pig-san still seems to be thinking with their brain and not their crotch, so Ema calls that a success and pulls her mug of beer close. She takes a first swig and doesn't bother trying to be ladylike about it, because Eustace has seen more than enough of her being a slob at the house. ]
So... performances, like a talent show? Did you ever do anything?
[ Hah. Him, performing in front of any kind of audience. Funny joke. It's so funny that his voice is as dry as the desert when he answers. ]
No. I don't perform.
[ What would he do anyway, line up a bunch of shot glasses on the ship's railing and shatter them all into pieces in one smooth sweep of his gun, never missing a single shot? Maybe some on the ship would consider the feat amazing but all he'd consider it to be is a waste of bullets.
He's distracted momentarily by a spot of lingering foam on Ema's cheek and, wordlessly, he passes over a napkin. Just because they live on a deserted island doesn't mean they have to act like backwards neanderthals, for crying out loud. ]
You must have had celebrations with your sister.
[ She'd always spoken about Lana with such warmth that it's hard to imagine the relationship between the two as anything but deeply loving. ]
[ Wow?? What Ema has learned is that Eustace is capable of doing all kinds of surprising things when he's drunk, so why not perform. She's never seen him with his alleged skills on full display, so for all she knows, he could be some Robin Hoodesque crackshot capable of shooting oncoming bullets dead center.
She huffs at his passed napkin, but takes it and blindly dabs her face for whatever is apparently bothering him. Thanks, Mom. Did she even get the spot? Either way, she's already going for a second swig. She ain't getting to buzztown by sitting around and staring at Eustace.
Mention of Lana is an easy ticket to getting Ema to brighten, second only to science itself. She smiles as she leans on the bar and props her cheek on her fist. ]
Oh, yes. She was so busy all the time, but she always made sure to carve out a spot for me on birthdays. Usually, she'd gift me a brand new tool for my forensic kit.
[ The best sister she could ask for, truly. ]
I remember when she gave me my first bottle of luminol testing fluid. I was so happy, I went to sleep that night with it clutched in my little arms.
[ "Little"... like she wasn't only two inches shorter. ]
[ i hate that he could probably do exactly what you described and that is why we had to move on
It's a testament to how much Ema has cemented her love of science as part of her identity that even Eustace's feeble imagination has no problems imagining a child version of her, safely tucked in bed, with a bottle of luminol snug in her arms. Most kids sleep with teddy bears, Ema Skye apparently sleeps with science tools. It's cute, in a weird kind of way, and it's not like he has any room to judge considering what he's slept with as a child.
It's cuter still to see her face flush with good cheer and he's content to watch her quietly for a handful of seconds before continuing on. Since they're on the subject of birthday gifts, it only makes sense to keep heading down that path. ]
Did you want anything [ read: more science paraphernalia ] for your birthday this year?
[ Her sister is not here on the island with them (probably for the best) so someone will have to step in and take her gift-giving place. Also, maybe he just wants to see her smile more. ]
We're out here celebrating, aren't we? That's more than enough for me. And you... have already done enough for me.
[ She takes another good chug of beer... She is doing her best. The first hint of a pleasant buzz is already creeping over her because as Eustace surmised, she is no heavyweight. Her mug clunks a little heavier as she sets it back down.
She turns back and pokes him lightly in the chest. ]
What do you want, huh? You never talk about the things you like.
[ Is him repeating 'peace and quiet' over and over again not enough of an indicator for her of what he wants??
He looks down at her finger at his chest and then over to his drink, still mostly full. All the things he truly wants are the things he can never have, and anything material he could feasibly get on the island seems so inconsequential in the face of everything they have to deal with here.
Carefully, he lowers her hand, and then reaches up to (once again) mess up her hair. Because seeing her with a bird's nest for hair never fails to be funny. ]
Spending time with you is enough.
[ The fact that she still drags him out even though he's about as pleasant company as a sea urchin. The fact that she'd willingly gone out of her way multiple times to help him out, even when she'd had nothing to gain. It all condenses into a small globe of memories tucked away deep in his chest, a better gift than anything material he could ever get.
He realizes he's gone silent, staring not quite at her but through, and takes a (larger) gulp of his drink. ]
But you can buy me dinner next time, if you want.
[ Free food, truly the way to any man's good graces. ]
text; at some nebulous point in may
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It was last month, actually. Why?
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You didn't want to celebrate yours?
[ Isn't that a Thing for most people... ]
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[ She feels that's self-explanatory... ]
Well, happy birthday to us.
We could always get some drinks to celebrate. 🎉
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That one bar you were at before seemed to serve you well enough.
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[ Times change, people change, maybe the drinks menu at the bar has changed too. ]
Or are you planning on using me as a guinea pig?
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Come on!!! Isn't drinking together the type of thing friends are supposed to do together?
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Pick a day. I'll cover the costs.
[ Happy birthday, his gift will be all you can drink booze. ]
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I'll do my best to make you regret it!
[ pretend she picks a day... waves wand ]
i guess we're doing this now
[ But he will at least drag her sorry ass back home and give her a glass of water.
The day of the BBB (Belated Birthday Bash) arrives without incident and they amble their way to the bar he'd drunk dialed her from. A deeply embarrassing night full of deeply embarrassing behavior as far as he's concerned, and silently he resolves to cut himself off after the first drink. It shouldn't be hard; he's not prone to fits of alcoholism.
Ema, on the other hand... ]
Are you really planning on drinking yourself under the table?
[ How many drinks would that even take....one and a half? She's tiny. ]
SO WE ARE... magic really does exist
Since Eustace has already declared that he isn't willing to hold her hair back if she starts barfing, officially making him a bad friend, Ema comes defensively equipped today with a full, wild-looking ponytail. Look at what he's making her resort to. ]
It isn't a party until someone needs to get carted home, and I'd rather leave the heavy lifting to you.
[ That's a joke. Hopefully. She settles herself at a barstool and leans against the counter. ]
Don't tell me you're keeping it conservative? You're a great drunk.
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I can't [ how did she put it ] cart you home if I'm drunk.
[ Both of them will inevitably end up plastered on the sidewalk if he tries that and then where will they be? Hungover and still on the sidewalk by the time the sun rises behind the cloud cover the next day. So, no, he will not be getting wasted tonight. Someone needs to be the designated driver (walker?) between the two of them—or at least, that's his excuse for the night.
He takes the seat next to her and orders a glass of sake. He's here to celebrate their slow descent into old age, not to lose consciousness as fast as possible, which means no drinks that look radioactive in nature. ]
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She's immune to Eustace's scowl and ignores it accordingly, instead peering at his drink of choice. Of course he got the old man alcohol... ]
I suppose. Well, there's always next time.
[ She'll see him drunk again someday, mark her words!! ]
By the way... did you do anything for your birthday?
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For now, he's content to enjoy the laidback atmosphere of the bar and Ema's company, even if one or the other (or both) will surely end up raucous before the night is over. ]
No. I don't usually celebrate my birthday.
[ It's just another day of the week, as far as he's concerned. ]
We celebrated the Captain's birthday though, back on the Grandcypher.
[ And that, quite frankly, had been enough noise and merriment to last him until the next round of celebrations. ]
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[ And how about a party at the Prosecutor's Building for Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth? Hee. Heehee. Ema smiles at the thought of Edgeworth coolly showered in confetti. ]
What does a Captain-level birthday entail? Endless vittles and rum?
[ She is still imagining them living like pirates... ]
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'Vittles and rum' is such a specific grouping of words that he looks over at her with brows pulled together. What kind of image does she have of skyfaring crews....? But he'll indulge her all the same, digging back in his memory banks for the last birthday party they held. ]
Lots of food, lots of drink. Decorations of all kinds depending on who's in charge. Performances depending on how drunk certain members of the crew get.
[ And many of them do often get drunk, imbibing a little extra in honor of a Captain that still can't indulge because GBF refuses to acknowledge the passage of time when it comes to character ages. He takes an internal check of his body - still the usual temperature, no strange urges rising out of nowhere - before taking another drink. ]
It's always an elaborate affair but none of us mind.
[ Because everyone in the crew is a goddamn simp. ]
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Sounds like a lot of fun. It must have been something if even you didn't mind the commotion.
[ Eustace deserves to get his stick dragged out of the mud and into a shipwide party every once in a while. It's nice to imagine him somewhere lively and warm, somewhere that isn't this dead, incongruous island.
It's only been like a minute since they arrived here, but Ema's already impatient to get drinking. Guinea Pig-san still seems to be thinking with their brain and not their crotch, so Ema calls that a success and pulls her mug of beer close. She takes a first swig and doesn't bother trying to be ladylike about it, because Eustace has seen more than enough of her being a slob at the house. ]
So... performances, like a talent show? Did you ever do anything?
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No. I don't perform.
[ What would he do anyway, line up a bunch of shot glasses on the ship's railing and shatter them all into pieces in one smooth sweep of his gun, never missing a single shot? Maybe some on the ship would consider the feat amazing but all he'd consider it to be is a waste of bullets.
He's distracted momentarily by a spot of lingering foam on Ema's cheek and, wordlessly, he passes over a napkin. Just because they live on a deserted island doesn't mean they have to act like backwards neanderthals, for crying out loud. ]
You must have had celebrations with your sister.
[ She'd always spoken about Lana with such warmth that it's hard to imagine the relationship between the two as anything but deeply loving. ]
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She huffs at his passed napkin, but takes it and blindly dabs her face for whatever is apparently bothering him. Thanks, Mom. Did she even get the spot? Either way, she's already going for a second swig. She ain't getting to buzztown by sitting around and staring at Eustace.
Mention of Lana is an easy ticket to getting Ema to brighten, second only to science itself. She smiles as she leans on the bar and props her cheek on her fist. ]
Oh, yes. She was so busy all the time, but she always made sure to carve out a spot for me on birthdays. Usually, she'd gift me a brand new tool for my forensic kit.
[ The best sister she could ask for, truly. ]
I remember when she gave me my first bottle of luminol testing fluid. I was so happy, I went to sleep that night with it clutched in my little arms.
[ "Little"... like she wasn't only two inches shorter. ]
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It's a testament to how much Ema has cemented her love of science as part of her identity that even Eustace's feeble imagination has no problems imagining a child version of her, safely tucked in bed, with a bottle of luminol snug in her arms. Most kids sleep with teddy bears, Ema Skye apparently sleeps with science tools. It's cute, in a weird kind of way, and it's not like he has any room to judge considering what he's slept with as a child.
It's cuter still to see her face flush with good cheer and he's content to watch her quietly for a handful of seconds before continuing on. Since they're on the subject of birthday gifts, it only makes sense to keep heading down that path. ]
Did you want anything [ read: more science paraphernalia ] for your birthday this year?
[ Her sister is not here on the island with them (probably for the best) so someone will have to step in and take her gift-giving place. Also, maybe he just wants to see her smile more. ]
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We're out here celebrating, aren't we? That's more than enough for me. And you... have already done enough for me.
[ She takes another good chug of beer... She is doing her best. The first hint of a pleasant buzz is already creeping over her because as Eustace surmised, she is no heavyweight. Her mug clunks a little heavier as she sets it back down.
She turns back and pokes him lightly in the chest. ]
What do you want, huh? You never talk about the things you like.
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He looks down at her finger at his chest and then over to his drink, still mostly full. All the things he truly wants are the things he can never have, and anything material he could feasibly get on the island seems so inconsequential in the face of everything they have to deal with here.
Carefully, he lowers her hand, and then reaches up to (once again) mess up her hair. Because seeing her with a bird's nest for hair never fails to be funny. ]
Spending time with you is enough.
[ The fact that she still drags him out even though he's about as pleasant company as a sea urchin. The fact that she'd willingly gone out of her way multiple times to help him out, even when she'd had nothing to gain. It all condenses into a small globe of memories tucked away deep in his chest, a better gift than anything material he could ever get.
He realizes he's gone silent, staring not quite at her but through, and takes a (larger) gulp of his drink. ]
But you can buy me dinner next time, if you want.
[ Free food, truly the way to any man's good graces. ]
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finally... this icon's time to shine
i hope you get a lot of good mileage out of it
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