multiversallogs | open post ● we're about to get up and burn this floor

Entry tags:

open post ● we're about to get up and burn this floor

Who: Everyone.
What: The Grand Re-Opening of the Gravity Falls Station.
Where: Babylon.
When: Veerdi to Sukkardi.
Notes: Party post!!! Go nuts y'all.
Warnings: Probable alcohol (and drug?) use. Flag stuff in subject titles if it needs a warning and I'll edit it up in here.

It's clear from the first moment anyone even gets on the Skyrail tonight that the Stratosphere Entertainment Group's pricey investment is going to pay off - every rail car is crowded with people decked out and excited for the event. To natives of Baedal, the idea of a holiday is days off work, maybe some camping - escape is alien, a little frightening, and completely thrilling. Even when the Gravity Falls station had hosted other venues, it was nothing so ambitious as to capture the imaginations of the city as a whole. And to immigrants to the city who no longer have the luxury of even simple trips out of town - well, it's priceless. A bittersweet but suddenly vital excursion.

Doors open just as the sun begins to set, the light reflecting off the water of the ocean illuminating the great floating platform as if the entire sky was on fire, before slipping into deep purple then black, the ceiling of their experience dotted with brilliant stars. Staff members wrangling the hazards of the first night are anxious but excited, kind and helpful even if they end up frazzled by the overwhelming turnout. There is security, all sporting neon purple shirts with lion logos, but even by their own admission, they're only there to breakup fights - and even they're smiling all night, too.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's part of him that wants to ask her if needing to work as a team was a necessity brought on by needing to fight for freedom--the tactician in him, ever seeking information, ever wanting to see the entire picture. But that's a pretty heavy conversation for the middle of a party.

"It's been my experience," limited because he's only been a captain for such a short time, but still, "that the strength of any team can be found just as much in their differences as in what they all have in common. Especially in how they forge bonds through those differences or learn to work with what the others have to offer."

"True. I didn't always get that, when I was younger, but none of us could have survived very long without each other." Some people still didn't survive, but that definitely wasn't party conversation.

"It's just the same here, when I go foghunting with other people now and then."

"I don't think any of us gets that when we're younger."

--He says, entirely serious, like he's not still young himself.

"And it serves me, well, too now that I'm in Hellsing. It's a skill I wish more people could grasp."

"Some of us just have to learn the hard way," she says with a wry smile. "I remember getting more than a few angry lectures."

He nods; he recognizes himself in that statement, too. "And I was a real jerk. I don't think I got it or even gave any real thought to anyone past myself until I joined the crew of my ship and we had to figure it all out in the heat of battle."

"Well. It takes a big man to admit he was a jerk, all those many years ago."

Now she's teasing him.

That gets her a knowing grin.

"What if he can admit he's still a little bit of a jerk even now?"

She laughs. "It's alright, I won't tell anyone. I didn't have many friends back home who were saints, you know."

"I know saints are held up as the ideal," Jim confides, "but sinners make for better stories, when history's being written."

"Is that how you identify yourself, Captain?" she asks with a bit of a smile. "Or are you taking other people's word for it?"

He shrugs, full of good humor. "I try not to take too much stock in what people think of me. But there's no denying there's a certain image people have. And there's also no denying it's grounded in at least a little truth."

He's maybe not quite the danger-loving, swashbuckling, lady-loving figure rumor has him cutting... but it's not entirely unfounded.

"Well, a saint would probably be less fun to talk to. And a saint definitely wouldn't help me get a drink that's a strange color and more alcohol than sugar."

She feels a bit like she's pretending to be someone else. But that someone else is having a good time, so she'll keep going for now.

"Now I can definitely do that," Jim agrees, "whenever you're ready."

"Ready when you are, captain," she says with a small grin.

He chuckles, sketching out a mock salute with two fingers. Jim takes a moment to get his boots back on, and then he rises to his feet, offering her a hand to help her up.

"Main bar or the lounge?"

She takes her hand up, considering. "...lounge." And before he can let go of her hand (or otherwise respond), she blinks them both there.

He's momentarily stunned to find himself in entirely different surroundings, but once his brain catches up with his eyes, he breaks into the biggest grin.

"I see where traveling like that has its advantages." And is just really really cool, besides.

She can't help but grin back. Sure, she was showing off a bit, but she'd been so thoroughly trained that her powers were just for fighting that she's still exploring using them just for the pleasure of it. "A bit flashy," she says, releasing his hand, "but it saves gas? Or it would, if we were living someplace with more cars."

"Listen, I always love a flashy entrance." What can he say? He's a thrill-seeker and he likes attention.

"They still use cars a lot where you're from? There's some around where I'm from but they're antiques, collector's items and stuff. Still get driven around, though."

And wrecked. Jim.

"They did - when I was little they were common." By the end it was rich folks, the military, or those well enough connected in the black market to be sure of regular fuel - few and far between. "I never learned to drive myself."

But she slides past her world without dwelling on it more than that. "So. Have you had any of these drinks yet? What's good?"

He shakes his head. "I haven't tried anything yet. I usually go for beer but I'm open to trying something new. Maybe we can ask a bartender for a recommendation."

"Let's see if there's something fancy and ridiculous that's a special tonight," she suggests. Beer is more her general speed too, but why not get in the spirit of the evening?

"Looks like the bar's over there. Shall we?" He offers his arm, clearly playful.

She takes his arm. "Sounds good to me."

Jim leads her to the bar, where he waves at the bartender, trying to get her attention. "I'm sure there has to be some opening-night special," he muses, studying their surroundings. "And something tells me it's some neon color."

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