Sarcasm [Open/Dark]

Nights were the brightest time of the day.

She flicked away her long hair until it fell over one of her small shoulders. Her eyes were glazed and rimmed in varying shades of red and purple. She was vaguely aware of how painful the burning sensation in her eyes was, but ignored it skillfully. It had been a long time since she had honestly felt and suffered pain. Her thin hands revealed the tension the mask over her face cleverly hid. The glass in front of her remained untouched--she was sorely temped to drink to forget but her sensible, rational side reminded her that temptation was dangerous. She was relieved to have still been sober--alcohol in small quantities were enough to have her flat on her back, singing like there was no tomorrow. She leaned forward, surveying the dimly-lit establishment with growing disgusting, condemning herself for sinking to the point of entering a bar. She inhaled, not wanting to acknowledge her temporary stupidity and focussed on the burgundy drink in front of her. Wine. The classy drink. She pushed it away in one swift motion and where the wineglass had once been was a section of a wooden counter.

God.

Ah . . . a lovely way to spend your time, eh? Her mind supplied viciously, taunting her repeatedly about her lapse of judgement. This was supposed to be a celebratory event, not a sob fest. She had gotten into a guild. She would go on missions. She would be respected. Her grandmother would be proud of her, right? She cocked her head further to the right, blinking against her blurring vision. She had only drank two glasses. Just two glasses, that wasn't enough to lose control . . . it wasn't even enough to be tipsy. She crossed her elbows on top of the counter and placed her head on it, finding herself growing more dizzy and worried as the floor appeared more liquid than solid to her. Weren't you talking about not being drunk not more than a few moments ago?

Sarcasm was an awful trait, she decided.

And self-loathing was much worse.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down and refrain from doing something she would regret in the future. Undoubtedly, she had done something stupid, but it was nothing to worry about. She was only slightly drunk. She could still find her way back to her apartment. Nothing was wrong, she assured herself, her mental tone eerily relaxed. She had come to this place to unwind, after all--there was nothing wrong with lowering her defences and loosening up. She had had a hard day, she reasoned with herself. Maybe something interesting might happen.

Maybe.

Tibodico strolled over. He looked completely unsure of where he was going, as he had a blindfold covering his eyes. A cat, or more commonly know as an exceed was resting on his head, trying to tug him into the directions avoiding the crowds. Guiding him through the traffic. Metsu. Where the hell are you taking us, have you been drinking? Because your guiding is crap. He stumbled, not because of the fact that he couldn't see, but because the cat had fallen off his head. Laughing. Y-you...I'm not. I only had three drinks? Tibodico, with absolutely no direction, simply sat on the ground. Not caring what everyone around him thought.

Metsu, after finally getting back to her feet. Popped a pair of wings from her back, flying over to Yuuki. H-Hey, i know you. Suddenly, out of no where, her back straighten and she took a rather responsible pose. As though sobering up immediately. Sorry, My name is Metsu. And I'm a member of Lamia Scale. I've seen you around. She smiled in a way that only a cat could. She was very respectful, and spoke in quite a Civilised way, yet her voice was harmonic and beautiful.

Tibodico, hearing Metsu from his position, attempted to stand. Still wearing the Blindfold, trying to walk towards the sound. Metsu, if you are drunk then get me a drink. Or at least come and help me walk. That was all he managed to get out, before tripping over god-knows-what, falling face first into the ground.

Metsu Simply ignored him.

It finally hit him then. A new member? He was making a fool of himself. In a jolt, he stood. Carefully stepping, holding his arms out infront like a blind fool who lost his walking stick. A walking stick would actually be a very nice idea, I should get one. Once over he held out a hand to greet the new member, which was all fine, except he was facing the wrong way, holding it out to the side rather then actually towards Yuuki.

These two were odd indeed.

Thoughts and words blurred with each other, forming a congealed mess in her head.

From what she could tell, there was a cat hovering a few feet away from her face. It couldn't have been real, her rational mind objected but the cat was so . . . solid, so real, she was certain it wasn't an alcohol-induced hallucination or a dream. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the cat to see if it was imaginary or not, but refrained from moving her hand. It would seem silly, she reasoned with herself and her simply looked up. In addition to flying, the cat could speak, much to Yuuki's astonishment; the cat declared something that she perceived as an expression of recognition. "Uhh. . ." She flushed as she realised how stupid she sounded and resumed a more composed expression instantly. "It's lovely to meet you Metsu-kun. I'm Shou Yuuki."

A loud yell sounded from behind her and Yuuki sat up straighter. A fellow who had eloquently seated himself on the ground was calling out to Metsu-kun. She turned around and took in his appearance. His hair was dark, as much as obsidian and sleek. A blindfold covered his eyes and held back his hair, to some extent. He wasn't incredibly tall but he was lean and muscular. Something seemed off about him to her, something that she couldn't place her finger on . . . she had been ignoring him earlier because she had been too caught up in self-pity but he'd said something about Metsu-kun guiding them . . .

He was blind.

That had to be it. Of course, she could be over complicating the whole situation; he could simply be wearing the blindfold as an accessory, but she went with her theory about him being blind. He stood up and ambled around aimlessly, demanding that the cat help him around. Metsu-kun skillfully ignored him and continued to look at her. The man staggered in her general direction, but much to her surprise turned away and extended a hand towards the counter which was situated to her right. She giggled softly, not really intending to offend him or be rude. She couldn't help it however--he wasn't sure where she was and she was drunk. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to process anything complex. Her small giggle grew into full blown laughter, soft and high-pitched. "I'm . . . I'm over here,"