It don't mean a thing.

[aldabeyoun]

Who: Njoki, the band, and you!
What: Music, chatter, general discussion.
Where: No Fish Today
When: Misdi evening.
Notes: Music? You want music? We've got you covered.

As promised, No Fish Today, Baedal's own tavern that caters to newcomers out of time and those with an interest in Earth's recent past, is hosting their regular forties night. The bar is open. Snacks are available. (Try the pickled eggs!) There's plenty of music and even a little cleared space if you want to dance.

Comments

[lazarusrisen]

For the first time in a very long time, Adam thinks of London, and actually feels a bit of longing.

It's not the same longing that he had when he was a boy, when London seemed the center of the universe. Certainly a better place to be than Cumbria, though it wasn't particularly hard to be a better place to be than Cumbria. Though maybe it was a touch of that old longing that had lured him back when this war broke out. London had seemed to be where he needed to be. For once, some lingering loyalty to his home country had won out over merely choosing the side that either paid him better or offered him more interesting opportunities.

Such a romantic time that had been. He translated intercepted radio messages and cables--his fluency in Japanese had come in so handy--and had the adoration of many just for leaving his flat in uniform every day. The world had seemed about to end, to most; not to him, he knew better.

He'd loved the music most of all. And now he sits at the bar, turned so he can watch the people dancing, sipping at a mixed drink and wondering if he still remembers how.

[whattigerscanchange]

One of the women dancing is having a ball, if the way she laughs as she moves around the floor - and from partner to partner. She dances with both men and women, her skirts swinging as she twirls. It's a minor miracle she doesn't made herself dizzy enough to fall over - especially in those heels - and eventually she misjudges the space between herself and another dancer on her blind side. There's a brief moment where all movement seems to stop around her as she throws up her hands to brace for impact, but instead narrowly avoids collision, stumbling off toward the bar with an apology underscored by laughter.

It could just have been one of those moments that seem to slow down while you're watching them. Or it could be that the red-haired woman headed in Adam's direction cheats physics. (She does. Thanks, superpowers.) Still giddy and catching her breath, she leans both arms against the bar to Adam's right, flagging down the tender to order a vodka tonic. He knows her blonde, a few years younger, and without the scars, but it's tough to mistake Odessa after a display like that. And if she'd turn her head to look, instead of securing her booze first, Odessa would realise who she's just stumbled into.

[lazarusrisen]

Adam watches the woman twirl with mild alarm; it seems she'll fall any moment. And then he sees the collision coming, sees the woman brace for collision, and he actually shifts against the bar, ready to set his drink down and help her to her feet if needed. His is an odd morality. He's been ready to wipe out the entire world but he cannot leave a drunk woman to fend for herself in a bar.

But then there's no crashing of bodies, no one goes toppling or stumbling. That's a lucky-- no. No, wait, he's seen this before. It was-- it can't be, can it?

When she bellies up to the bar beside him, he takes advantage of her distraction to study her. It's her. Odessa Wander. She's older, she's changed her hair. And seen some trials, if the marks she now wears bear witness.

The thought of stepping away and leaving crosses his mind. But he resists. If someone must recognize him, let it be quietly, when he's prepared, where he has some hope of control over the situation.

He leans back against the bar, his attention apparently back on the dancers as he raises his glass to his lips. And then, in a voice so low only she can hear, he quotes a film he saw in a theater back when the music playing was new.

"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world..."

[whattigerscanchange]

He's near enough to hear the breath catch in Odessa's throat as her heart skips a beat. How can it not? First of all, that happens to be one of her very favourite movies. Second, she knows that voice. And for a moment, she's quite afraid to turn for confirmation of his identity.

Adam Monroe. She releases the breath she didn't realise she was holding, fixing her wide-eyed stare on him, lips parted in shock. The last time they met, as she recalls it, he said he would kill her. With one hand, she reaches up to brush the hair away from her face. It's held rather neatly in place by a clip bearing an orange flower on her right side, but sweeping aside her bangs reveals the worst of the scarring across her left eye.

With the other hand, she slowly tightens her fingers on her skirt, wadding it up in her fist anxiously, or hiking it up. With any luck he's too busy watching her movements above the bar to consider that she may have a knife strapped to her thigh, though she doesn't hold too much hope. To say Adam is something of a seasoned veteran is an understatement.

And really, what good is shanking the immortal going to do anyway? There's some kind of calm that accompanies that thought, and Odessa finds her voice. "And I had to walk into yours... It's been a long time."

[lazarusrisen]

"Longer for you than me, it seems." Is he telling the truth? There's no real way to know. Her age and the scars she bears tell the story of years and trials passed but Adam could walk through a century and come out unchanged.

He keeps his gaze on her face, though he's aware of the dip of her hands, the tensing of her arm given away by the way she holds it, the way her shoulder rolls ever so slightly as she hikes up the side of her skirt. It may be nervous fidgeting, it may be a grab for a weapon, he can't tell. He won't start anything, won't go on the offense, not here in the middle of a party, but if she does make a move he will defend himself.

"I last saw you..." He headtilts slightly, thinking. "Oh, it's been a few months, at the very least."