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Entry tags:
002 ; video
[ click! as the video starts recording, revealing: a rather skinny, disheveled fellow sitting in what looks like one of the rec rooms around the ship's hallways. soysauce sits back from where he's leaned forward to start the recording, looking rather haggard and sleep-deprived, his hair mussed up and his tie hanging loose around his neck. he's swaying a bit in his seat as he runs a hand back through his hair -- the empty liquor bottle visible at the edge of the video suggests he miiight just be trashed out of his skull at the moment.
still, at least he sounds half-way coherent as he starts talking. ]
Eh -- hello. Good afternoon. Evening? Either way, I do hope this isn't too much of an interruption. [ a small, polite bow of the head. ] To those I have yet had the pleasure of meeting, please call me Soysauce. Traveling musician and gunman, at your service.
[ a slight, uneasy sway on his seat as he gives the camera a goofy smile. nodding once to himself before continuing. ]
Nothing too important, but ah. Just two -- three! [ holding out two fingers. ] Three things I'd like to say.
First -- I seem to have lost track of, ah. A small model of the hoverbike I used at home. About this big -- [ holding his hands up to shape something roughly the size of a loaf of bread ] -- based off a robust model, fully functional, a little thing made of metal. If anyone happens to see it zipping by, I'd be very grateful to hear some suggestion of where it might have ended up.
Second. [ pause. ] What passes for whiskey here is rather lacking, no?
[ sigh. and then one those deep breaths that suggests he's trying to sober up somewhat. brows slightly furrowed as he speaks a bit more slowly. ]
And third. As ridiculous as this may sound, I'd like to ask if anyone is willing to spend some time as a sparring partner -- or instructor. Close-quarters combat has never been my forte, but given the vast differences between methods of combat here and where I'm from, I've given to thinking this problem may need to be addressed. Not to mention, what I do know, I feel I may have been growing rather rusty with as of late.
I'd be more than willing to compensate for any time with, well. Anything I can offer.
[ pause. he's spending a lot of visible effort trying to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything before giving the camera another sloppy, drunk smile. ]
Ah, thank you for your attention.
[ ooc ; also open to action, if anyone wants to actually bump into his drunken ass lurking in the rec room! the scale miniature of his hoverbike is going to ultimately end up in rickon's hands, but please feel free to have seen it zoom by in the hallways or bump into anyone's ankles! ]
still, at least he sounds half-way coherent as he starts talking. ]
Eh -- hello. Good afternoon. Evening? Either way, I do hope this isn't too much of an interruption. [ a small, polite bow of the head. ] To those I have yet had the pleasure of meeting, please call me Soysauce. Traveling musician and gunman, at your service.
[ a slight, uneasy sway on his seat as he gives the camera a goofy smile. nodding once to himself before continuing. ]
Nothing too important, but ah. Just two -- three! [ holding out two fingers. ] Three things I'd like to say.
First -- I seem to have lost track of, ah. A small model of the hoverbike I used at home. About this big -- [ holding his hands up to shape something roughly the size of a loaf of bread ] -- based off a robust model, fully functional, a little thing made of metal. If anyone happens to see it zipping by, I'd be very grateful to hear some suggestion of where it might have ended up.
Second. [ pause. ] What passes for whiskey here is rather lacking, no?
[ sigh. and then one those deep breaths that suggests he's trying to sober up somewhat. brows slightly furrowed as he speaks a bit more slowly. ]
And third. As ridiculous as this may sound, I'd like to ask if anyone is willing to spend some time as a sparring partner -- or instructor. Close-quarters combat has never been my forte, but given the vast differences between methods of combat here and where I'm from, I've given to thinking this problem may need to be addressed. Not to mention, what I do know, I feel I may have been growing rather rusty with as of late.
I'd be more than willing to compensate for any time with, well. Anything I can offer.
[ pause. he's spending a lot of visible effort trying to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything before giving the camera another sloppy, drunk smile. ]
Ah, thank you for your attention.
[ ooc ; also open to action, if anyone wants to actually bump into his drunken ass lurking in the rec room! the scale miniature of his hoverbike is going to ultimately end up in rickon's hands, but please feel free to have seen it zoom by in the hallways or bump into anyone's ankles! ]
SEXY ACTION IN THE SEXY REC ROOM
Ugh.
Some people really have no dignity, do they? Public intoxication - one of the lowest activities one can stoop to. Manfred wants to ignore him but he's right in his path. Let's make this quick.]
Public drunkenness. What other delights does this ship hold?
aw yeeeh boiiiii
there's the creak of the chair as soysauce stumbles onto his feet, scrubbing the back of his sleeve against his eyes to try and clear his vision of the familiar alcohol-induced haze.
and it takes him a long moment to realize there's someone standing there. a long moment where he squints at manfred, brows furrowed in thought, before his expression brightens in a fairly happy, drunken smile. ]
-- good evening, sir!
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You. You're Edgeworth's friend.
[He mutters quietly:] Why does that not surprise me...
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[ he looks up at manfred the next moment, though. studying him for a second before suddenly giving a chipper little grin. ]
Are you also a friend of his, sir? He's got a rather wider network of acquaintances than I expected, to be honest.
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However, the comment about his "wide network" catches his ear. How much has he done here? How many people does he really know here? No matter, Manfred knows where his obedience lies. He speaks irritably, as if Soysauce was a fool for not knowing this information already.]
I am his mentor. I've raised him since he was a child.
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[ and then a small nod, one hand rubbing against his temple. gosh, he really is quite a lot more drunk than he thought he was. mentor, though. that's interesting. not father? note to self: ask edgeworth about this later. there's a somewhat confused little pause before soysauce suddenly gives a rather goofy, drunken laugh. ]
Aha, I suppose that explains how dignified Mister Edgeworth always seems, then?
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[He folds his arms, clenching them in irritation. This conversation is a waste of time; this man is a waste of his time.[
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there's a slight smile crossing soysauce's features the next moments, and it's fairly coy when he slides a half-step forward, hands clasped behind his back and head canted to look up at manfred. ]
Ah -- it's quite dashing, actually. Such dedication and intelligence. You must be quite the admirable figure, sir.
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Of course he enjoys the praise, but it doesn't even matter when it comes from such a lowlife. He's beginning to feel slightly more uncomfortable, though, as if he's being insulted.]
Hmph. I'm not sure why you're trying to flatter me.
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Aah -- not flattery, sir. My dear man. Just an honest observation.
[ aaaand he almost falls over when he straightens back up. barely managing to stay upright as he fumbles over his words. ] Are you also a -- a person. Law person. Prosecutor?
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The flattery is disgusting, but why wouldn't someone try to flatter someone of Manfred's high calibur?]
Yes. [Spoken sternly, clear annoyance dripping from his voice.] A prosecutor. Did you learn that word from Edgeworth?
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Yes, sir! I must admit there isn't much of a system of law, where I'm from, so it was a rather new concept. Prosecutor.
[ pause, and a soft laugh. ] Rather fun word to say while tipsy.
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Yes, you have fun with that. I'm going back to my room.
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Wouldn't you like to share a drink, sir? I've still a bottle of wine here. [ a small pause before he adds a little more cheekily, ] I'd be honored to have the company of someone as charming and dignified as yourself, Mister -- ?
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Almost exactly like certain other muses Carbon plays,Manfred's arm jerks away as Soysauce's hand lands on it, looking back at him with utter disgust.]Mister von Karma. [Spoken icily.]
I'm fine, thank you.
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and then soysauce slides back a step, surprisingly graceful for someone with half a bottle of whiskey sloshing around their brain. taking up manfred's hand before he can say no and pressing a kiss against his knuckles while bowing deep -- looking up with the most charming smile he can possibly manage. ]
It's such a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your prosecutor-ness.
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Also prosecutor-ness. No. Just no.]
Most people do not like their personal space so rudely invaded, Mr.-- ah--
[Crap he doesn't know the guy's name.]
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he's still beaming at manfred as he straightens back up, standing lightly on his feet and giving a fancy flourish of his arm each time he speaks. ]
Ah, please do forgive me for being so rude, kind sir. Please call me Soysauce. Musician, bodyguard and hunter -- at your beck and call.
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Mr. Soysauce then. It's been a pleasure. [Spoken with obvious sarcasm.] But I really must be going now. Have fun making a further fool of yourself.
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[ have another little cling to your sleeve, and soysauce is just going to hang onto manfred a little bit. totally not because he's starting to have a hard time staying on his feet, nope. ] I must admit I'm rather curious what exactly your relationship with Mister Edgeworth is? He's such a fascinating person -- I'd love to learn more about his mentor as well!
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I already told you, Mr. Soysauce -- I am his mentor. I taught him about prosecuting.
[And he's trying to leave again.]
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Ah, yes. That. Of course. It sounds very generous of you. But -- if I may be so rude as to pry just a little bit. May I ask what you meant when you said you raised him? I take it you aren't his father, sir? A relative, then?
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No, I am not his father. His biological father was a colleague of mine.
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Ah, friend of family, then? Or -- adoptive family?
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Edge. Words. Which sounds like Edgeworth. Okay I'll shut up now.]His father was a colleague of mine and he died. I took the young Edgeworth in as he had nowhere else to go.
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