hello, lover | open post

[oruha]

[It's just another night in the club, singing the same old songs - she really ought to come up with something new.

She scans the audience as she sings, eyes flickering towards the door every so often. Who'll stumble in to listen to her tonight?


ooc; feel free to throw anyone at her and any situation / au. it doesn't have to be the one i set up!]

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i said i'd give you a military man

[79]

[ It's less a stumble and more a calculated risk. That's all Amuro Ray's life has ever been: a series of risks, a series of calculations, a series of dim bars in the dead of night when no other places stood open, a solid majority of which he'd passed by, one after the other. Maybe luck had factored in, somewhere along the way, but luck was always the inconstant. The unreliable variable.

Whatever role it played, Amuro has ended up here. Out of his element on a night so cold that the streets heaved with the steam beneath the concrete, and all the streetlights struggled. Light bitten back by a ferocious chill.

There's a kind of warmth to the place that he's immediately grateful for, the kind that didn't care whether or not he was dressed in his blues. He isn't, and for that he feels simultaneously naked and liberated, though he knows that there are many who didn't stand to make any distinction between the two. So instead of shedding his coat or his pride, Amuro simply takes a seat at the bartop and orders the first shot of whatever looks like it might warm the pit of his stomach the fastest.

Cheap comfort by the ounce. He can't say it suited him, but it works. It's then that he glances off towards the stage, towards the little songbird calling away into the night.

Birds and song. At least that, to him, was familiar. ]

[oruha]

[All sorts of people managed to make their way to the club where Oruha worked, whether by design or not. Some were drawn by the bright lights, the crowds of people milling about; others just wanted a place where they could drown their sorrows in peace for a short time.

Then, there were also those who wanted to catch a glimpse of the singer who the club's regulars had fondly begun to refer to as their songbird.

No matter what their reason for being there, though, Oruha strove to welcome them with warm smiles and beautiful music; everyone needed a bit of both now and then, especially in these hard times.

The club seemed to be especially popular with those in the military. She was more than able to pick out the soldiers from the civilians by now - it was something in the way they held themselves, the look in their eyes. They had a wariness about them even if some managed to hide it behind loud laughter and too bright grins. It was these that Oruha went out of her way to approach, to talk to and tease lightly until they were able to relax even if just a bit. She knew what it was like, after all, to wonder if it's worth it to keep going or not - the least she could do was give them another reason to look forward to just another day more.

Just one more song in her set, and then she could go on break. Then, it would be time for her to go around to see if there was someone in need of a little bit of cheer tonight.]

[79]

[ It's already more crowded than he's used to, but something about him keeps other patrons from knocking elbows with him at the polished bartop. It's an old place, well-kept. Timeless. Rows of vintage liquors line the mirrored shelves like jewels, diamond glasses full of pale golds and warm liquid ambers. When Amuro looks up now and again, he'll catch a glimpse of his own eyes between the bottles.

Dark and undefinable, but not unwelcoming.

While most of the people are gathered around the stage, Amuro contents himself with nursing his whiskey. Not downing it with the urgency of a man who wants to forget, and not leaving it alone enough to indicate he was doing any worthwhile thinking over it.

A drink. No more, and no less.

Luckily he doesn't exactly have to be paying any special mind to his surroundings to know what's going. And even in the crowd, despite the presence of an actual stage, she stands out. In more than just voice, and lovely words, and light playing off her dark hair. It's like she's reaching right into him and asking permission to sort out his insides, and Amuro presses a wary smile into the rim of his cup, shooting the remainder of it. ]

Now I see why people gather here.

[ A hoarse statement, thick with how the alcohol moves down his throat. Mostly said for his own benefit as he sets the glass on the bar, gives it a twist with his fingertips, and pushes it inwards, motioning for another. ]