The Disastrous Date, by Razgriz & Squishy Starring: Guzol Jocasta, Awkward Admirer Sayomi Rei, Disaster Master --- For the umpteenth time today, Guzol brushed another curl behind his ear, cursing at the black mass of hair on his head. It had never been easy to control, let alone neatly brush back, but it seemed that at the time he needed it the most, it had decided to be extra rebellious. On his beard and hair combined, he had broken three combs today, and only just finished picking the remaining teeth from said beard. He sighed, giving up on his hair and giving his new, fancy outfit a last look-over. The green, velvet doublet felt strangely lightweight and tight, compared to his normal simple shirt and armour. Underneath was a white silk shirt, complete with flowing sleeves gathered at the wrist. His trousers were of a nice earthy brown, and to top it all off he had dug up his best pair of shoes and polished them until they shined brighter than a gem. Normally he would not put so much effort into his appearance, but this was a very special occasion. This was not a simple night to the tavern, when he would just pull on whatever smelled the least and looked the cleanest, but this was a real date. With real dinner. In a fancy place, no less. The date had been the outcome of a friendly bet between Guzol and his female colleague, Sayomi. When the two had ventured deep into the colossal temple in the desert, the one who would slay the most monsters would be treated to dinner by the loser. Sayomi, being the one who devised a strategy to defeat the twin witches found inside, had been declared the winner, and after both having recovered enough to be walking around again, the date had come about. And now Guzol found himself nervously preparing. "Let's hope she still recognises me..." Confident that he looked posh enough, or just having given up trying to tame his hair, the guard picked up a small box. His other colleagues had told him that bringing a small gift on a date was a neat gesture, especially if you had a kind of... interest in the other party. Actually Guzol was really glad they had that bet and that he had lost.
Sayomi glanced at herself in the mirror for the four-hundredth time, and again adjusted her hair and kimono ever so slightly. She could never decide just how to look, for every time she felt satisfied with it, a second glance showed it unacceptable. She secretly wondered if a kimono would be too much for a first date, but had little else other than armor, and she and even considered wearing her parade uniform, but that would be even worse than what she was wearing now. With a heavy sigh she looked back to the day before when she bought it, it was a little more expensive than the black dress beside it, but on an impulse she bought the red-and-white floral garment instead. Even if she liked the warmth and how it was just a little encumbering which prevented her movements from being wildly exaggerated, she still felt out of place without the weight of her armor and sword and was almost afraid for when the date would actually start. Finally having had enough fiddling with her hair and clothes, she stepped away from the mirror even though a part in the back of her mind demanded she go back, instead she found herself fidgeting with her Goron bracelet worn like a armlet. A scowl crossed her face, it was the only jewelry she had and even then it was entirely hidden by her attire. Besides she couldn't see how its power could ever make the date go smoother. She wondered how long it'd been since she'd been this nervous, even when she agreed initially to do it, even soon after when she'd nearly been killed she hadn't felt this way. Oh, why hadn't I just bought the dress?
Guzol had planted himself on a bench outside the restaurant, where he would wait for his companion- no, his date. In a brave attempt to distract himself from any nervousness, he observed the building and the people inside. It was a nice quiet little place. So quiet it was almost terrifying. After the many near-death experiences (too many in the past month, the man concluded), it was a strange experience to be somewhere so peaceful. No cramped and dark caverns and collapsing temples, no monsters intent on tearing him to pieces, no violent doppelgangers... It made him uncomfortable. Violence was simple. So was running for your life. Talking and this whole... social thing was not. The guardsman idly scratched his beard, they had been out together before, he and Sayomi. Their various pubcrawls with their squad had usually ended in several drunken antics and a reprimand from their captain the next morning, but it had always been fun. He decided to think of this evening as simply a posher pubcrawl. If he could keep that in mind, perhaps it would seem less intimidating.
She'd lost track of the time as her nervous indecision played on her fears. She couldn't guess the time anymore, and her anxiety over the coming evening meant that she couldn't even remember what time they had agreed to meet. With a deep breath, she resolved that, even if the date would be a colossal failure it wouldn't be because she didn't show up. Before she'd come out of the building, Sayomi's palms had become slick with sweat and only the cool evening air stopped it from dripping onto her sleeves. For the next few minutes the walk through the normally bustling merchant's quarter was surprisingly calm and quiet, even if she was silently running through every way the date might go awry. For the moment it seemed as the world was on her side and it was only her own mind that was trying to get in the way. That illusion was quickly shattered, when a few local dregs began cat-calling. they looked slightly tipsy, unsteady on their feet, and even unarmed and in her current state of dress Sayomi knew the odds were in her favor. But tonight was not the night for that; she hoped. Instead she memorized the faces of the two that looked to be the pack's alphas; One large with both muscle and fat, a bushy, ungroomed beard, black, wild hair and a nose that looked like it had been broken but never properly set. And the other; slightly shorter, but much skinnier, with patchy facial hair and unkempt locks both unhealthily thin and a sickly orange, whose cheekbones were high but his cheeks hollow. Both reeked of muck and liquor, and both wouldn't shut up. For a moment Sayomi wondered if she could maybe shut them up by returning later in uniform but this only frustrated her further. She just kept repeating over and over in her head that tonight's not that night, tonight's not that night, she hoped.
Watching people became boring very quickly. Especially when said people did little else than eat and have conversations Guzol could not hear. Soon, his nervousness had turned into just a vague uneasy feeling, boredom growing stronger with every passing minute. He shifted in his seat, feeling increasingly self-concious. What if she didn't show up? Would he just sit there on the bench all evening, all by himself like some posh-looking weirdo? Guzol slouched in his seat, letting out a long, deep sigh. Somewhere in the distance he could hear some ruckus. Drunks, probably. He sighed again. Good weather always seemed to bring them out at night. Which seemed logical. Nobody wants to be staggering around in miserable weather, not even the senselessly drunk. Scuffing his feet over the ground like a bored child, the guardsman decides to sit and wait just a bit longer. Perhaps his colleague has stage fright. Or maybe second thoughts. What if she had run into trouble? Knowing Sayomi, that was not entirely unlikely.
Thankfully, the names and 'suggestions' of the drunks grew quieter before mixing in with the few other noises that emanated throughout the streets. She knew they likely got bored of loitering or found a new victim, but for a moment she hoped that they had drunken enough to pass out, that she might see them in the drunk-tank tomorrow without their recognition. Quickly though, her mind froze, there she was, just across the street from the restaurant and she could see her date sitting on a bench outside, looking bored towards the ground and suddenly, her anxiety nearly got the best of her; all she wanted to do was keep walking as though this was never supposed to happen. Even with all her military discipline she could only stop herself form doing just that. Her mind still blank, refusing to think, Sayomi slowly crossed the street to Guzol, trying to rush her paralyzed thoughts for something to say: a joke, a compliment, or just a greeting. She opened her mouth for a moment, but still nothing came.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, Guzol tensed up. He had been mentally rehearsing this meeting over and over in the past few days. All the smooth greetings he could say, or perhaps he would start with a compliment. He had been proud of himself, smug even with how smooth he had sounded in his head. This was it, this was the moment to prove himself, what he had prepared for for days now, this- "Hey." He could have slapped himself. Out of all the things he could've said, the blandest, most boring thing came out of his mouth. What kind of greeting was 'Hey' anyway? For a date?! Cheeks burning a bright red, Guzol frantically scrabbled for something to fill the increasingly awkward silence. "You, uh, look nice." And that was the second blandest sentence. Giving up on trying to be smooth, he added a nervous smile, hoping it didn't look too much like a grimace. The sooner they could settle down in their normal routine, the better. The guardsman jumped up from the bench, realising he was still slouching on it. He smoothed down his trousers and jacket, and, apparently having regained some of his smoothness, offered an arm to his companion. That was polite to do, right? "Sooo... Shall we go in?"
At that moment, Sayomi felt her muscles relax and her shoulders fall just a little bit. For the first time today she felt at ease with the whole situation, maybe it was that she wasn't the only one who was nervous, or the fact that this was a date hadn't really changed Guzol's awkward personality; "or maybe it's just that it's Guzol standing in front of me." Whatever the reason was she couldn't help but feel a small smile cross her face as he attempted to recover from his opening lines. "Tonight's not that night, everything will go well" She thought, not from rote encouragement, but with confidence, for the first time. "It will all go well." were the words that crossed her mind as she linked arms with her date. All did not go well. In a moment she realized that she was so distracted by his awkward attempts at conversation and her new-found comfort, that she had forgotten to turn around before taking his arm. Facing her mistake (and the wrong direction), she quickly unlinked her arm from his and twirled on the heel of her boot, hoping to appear ecstatic and energetic as she corrected herself. Only she was in short heels, not boots and swung around wildly as she lost her balance. As her world was spinning she reached out and latched onto the first thing she could grip to stop herself. Feeling her palm, quickly followed by her fingers pressing into something she pulled herself towards it with haste. As she stood still she finally realized what it was she'd grabbed on to, and it was a hell of a way to take someone's arm. "Maybe we should just go inside." she spoke, softly, head still resting on his shoulder.
As much as his mother had taught him it was rude to laugh at other people, Guzol could not help but snort. In an endeared sort of way. He blamed his nervousness. As awkward as the situation was, it started to appear that it would not be that much different form their day-to-day missions. "Good idea." He laughed, starting to feel more at ease. With Sayomi on his arm, he bravely stepped forward and pushed the door open. The restaurant was exactly what you imagined a fancy restaurant to be. Polished chandeliers glowing in dim candlelight, mahogany panelling on the walls and a deep red carpet on the floor. Immaculately laid-out tables were dotted about the room, a legion of waiters and waitresses nimbly navigating between to deliver covered dishes to the diners. All of it was accompanied by the quiet lull of conversation and tinkling of silverware on porcelain. This was definitely not the side of society that Guzol was used to. At all. Someone cleared their throat at his elbow, startling the guardsman. Guzol jumped, whipping his head to the side to see a short man in a perfectly pressed suit standing behind some sort of ledger. The man looked at him expectantly, quill hovering over a large book. "Good evening Sir. Madam." The man in the suit gave a polite bow. "You had a reservation?" "Uh, yes. Guzol. Er, Jocasta, I mean..." If the man had any opinion about the bumbling guardsman at all, he was too polite to show. Instead he simply nodded, sliding a finger down the page until he found the name and crossed it off with an elegant flick of his quill. "If you would follow me to your table, please."
Everything about the place brought Sayomi back to her civilian past: the sea of suits and dresses, the army of waiters, the polished atmosphere, the soothing piano music against the whispering choir of business and relaxation of the well-to-do. For a moment she gazed on and felt more as though she were returning to her childhood home than on a date. As the waiter lead them to their table, she felt the strange sensation of being comfortable, but torn between two realities: that of the endless soirées and tutors and other such things meant to prepare her for a life she never wanted; and that of endless drills and formations, and else meant to help her fight and and keep her alive in the worst of times. Maybe those two lives weren't so different after all. Her grip on Guzol's arm had loosened over the course of the walk, managing to keep in step with the two men as they were lead toward the back of the restaurant, surrounded by mostly empty tables and a few other dining couples. Here the from the chandelier and other great sources was dim, but made up for a small candle burning in the center of the table. After having been offered a seat, Sayomi glanced down at the dinner set before her and those lessons on table etiquette flooded her mind. Perhaps she wouldn't be the one to embarrass themselves this time. "And what can I get you two to drink this fine evening?"
Guzol plopped down in his seat, holding back a sigh of relief. So far, so good. "Ah, wine please." Just a little bit to calm his nerves. A tiny bit. This was not a pubcrawl with the squad where they would get absolutely hammered; that was probably not a fancy thing to do. After the man had left, his eyes dropped to the vast array of cutlery and tableware in front of him, almost visibly paling. Having grown up a commoner and lived as a soldier, Guzol was a stranger to high society's ettiquette. Why on earth would one need to many forks? So many dishes? Wasn't a spoon and a knife enough? He flashed Sayomi an impish grin, refusing to show any nerves. Treat it like a mission. A fancy mission. That was going to pull him through tonight, hopefully. A date made it sound so daunting, Guzol had never been on a date before. Sure, he'd maybe hit on some women in bars once, but never taken anyone on a proper date. Even if this one only came about as the result of a bet. "So..." He started, searching for something to talk about. "You doing okay? Feeling better after, you know, the colossus?"
Sayomi looked blankly at the array of cutlery for just a moment, the details of all those etiquette lessons lost on her, but the basics remained: Start on the outside and move inward, small spoons for tea and dessert and large ones for soups and appropriate dishes, Each course gets a new pair of forks and knives, never use the same glass for different beverages. She let out the smallest sigh as her anxiety passed; she couldn't court a king, but she was confident she could Guzol into thinking she was the height of nobility. "Would you please make it a bottle?" she spoke to the server, almost forgetting to soften her voice for her surroundings. She could sense his discomfort as he searched for conversation, and feeling more confident than she should have, she reached across the table to put her hand on his in a gentle romantic gesture. The perfect way begin what would inevitably be a lovely evening. "Just relax Guzol, catch your breath and enj-" The Knight was abruptly cut off the dings and clanks of metal on metal and metal on porcelain, and by the final but bass ringing of a tipped glass as her sleeve caught those mirror-sheen silver forks and dragged them across the table. Her face turned beet-red as the entire restaurant stopped eat and chatting to just start at the awkward, strangely-dressed girl and her date. You could've heard a pin drop in that room were it not for the discipline of the pianist to play through the interruption, she'd need to remember to tip him at the end of the night. "No" she spoke embarrassed-ly to her team-mate, responding to the half-forgotten question as she righted the glass. "No, I think I'd rather be back there right about now."
What ever sort of gesture Sayomi had meant was lost in the clamour of cutlery scraping over plates, as half of the table's contents were dragged across the table by her sleeve. "At least we didn't have an audience there..." The guard muttered under his breath. Guzol hurriedly pushed them back in place, or at least what he thought were their correct places, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge to other staring diners. He wholeheartedly agreed with Sayomi. Fighting demented half-dead witches was definitely better than this. Nonetheless, he put on a comforting grin. “Just relax.” He said, echoing his colleague’s words. They could both use it. Soon enough, the wine was brought to their table, poured into two crystal clear glasses. The waiter glanced down at the table, but his face betrayed nothing. Had he not known better, Guzol would’ve guessed they were served by robots, or perhaps some kind of golems. Their discipline in ignoring anything out of the ordinary was truly impressive. When the man had left, Guzol carefully grabbed his glass and raised it in front of him. “Well… cheers. To still being alive.”
Say was briefly glad for Guzol's help diffusing the situation; she tried replacing the utensils in their proper places for only a moment before giving into his panicked and just putting them wherever they looked liked they might belong. His words stung: She was in her element, she grew up learning the rules, the etiquette and the class of people that surrounded her; and yet she had still been the one to embarrass them. With the wine came a welcome respite from the punishment in her head. As the red liquid touched her lips, the anxiety melted away. It had been too long since Say been on leave from the guard to be able to identify the vintage, but the strong, rich flavor, semi-dry with hints of peach and spice made her sure the wine originated from the south. Such spirits were rare and truly valuable in these times. In truth, she had no idea how long she spent in such a trance and was only startled by the feeling of blizzard-chill winds pressed against her skin, yet left the glass unfrosted and the candle unfaltered.
