multiversallogs | OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

Who: Everyone!
What: St Kelley's evening
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Veerdi evening.
Notes:
(1) The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread.
(2) All mementos will appear overnight in some part of your character's apartment.
(3) Dance!

St Kelley's is one of the more sedate occasions in Baedal, at least as holidays go. It passes more or less unnoticed by the majority of the population as many of them feel it doesn't concern them. It's not their holiday; it's for the others. Those with severed ties and broken hearts. The temple and church preach that it's a time for reflection or for glorifying the generosity of the gods. It's one of the few days on which no one looks askance at first generation Citizens mourning their missing loved ones publicly.

As night rolls around and floating lanterns are set to sea, the Apache in Mog Hill prepares to accept guests from the newer cohorts. It's something that happens every year, making it a practical tradition. The alcohol will be cheaper for first timers, and the music will be kept at a reasonable level.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Steph is passing the time until Kate turns up with that promised hug, and when she spots Charles at the bar she decides to go say hello. Partly because of Kate's reveal about the whole telepathy thing.

"I don't think they've noticed you," Steph comments as she appears beside Charles, watching the bartender serve another person.

The bright side about being telepath: it's ridiculously hard for anyone to sneak up on you. Steph's appearance is treated like the most natural thing in the world.

"Well, it is busy. Besides, I don't mind --I've got company now." And she gets a cheery little smile as he turns to face her. "How are you this fine evening?"

"Who says I'm staying?" she replies with a grin that's a little cheeky; it's easier to act a little ridiculous. Steph answers his question with a heartful, "I feel like shit." But there's amusement there, because it's the expected sort of terribleness and that's not as hard to deal with, "What about you?"

Oh, Steph. Your admission gets a frowny face from the slightly sauced telepath. "I do. Because I'm buying your next drink. Because you feel shit." And with a look of some concentration, the bartender magically notices them, followed by a little wave from Charles. The most polite abuse of powers.

"I'm all right. Long day at the office, as usual. I'm not bothering with any of this," and he gives a gesture to indicate the goings on around them. "That's the thing with eidetic memories, it's really difficult to forget things."

"If I'd realized being sad would get me free drinks, I would've been a much drunker fifteen year old," It would've been easier than making out with one of her girl friends to get a 21 year old perv to buy them alcohol. Steph what was your life.

"You didn't want anything from home?" That is probably a wildly inappropriate question to ask someone she's only met a few times, but that seems to be the spirit of the celebration. "It's good you're feeling alright, though, I think you're a rare one tonight."

"Thankfully, I had some very convincing I.D. when I was younger. But don't tell anyone I told you that." It's difficult to tell people off when you're being hypocritical, but he'll still manage it. Somehow.

"I'm in a mixed mood about the entire thing. On the one hand," and there are gestures to go along with this, Steph, pay attention, "I love my little sister dearly. And I've come to realise I was really awful to her right before I left. But on the other hand, I don't want to tempt fate and find her in the arrival room tomorrow. She --or a version of her-- was here before I came along, you see. But she got sent back home. Anyway, I...I don't know which is worse. Here, or where I left off. So."

At this point, the bartender comes over. "Another of what's on tap, please. What are you having?"

"It'll be our secret," she adds a wink for extra effect, "But you're also British, do they even care about legal drinking ages there?"

She's paying attention, don't worry, Charles. She does frown a little though, that sounds like a rough situation to be in, "I think she might be better off at home. You can apologize when you go back." And now she feels a little guilty for thinking of Cass and Kara -- what if they get dragged here? She's the worst friend ever for kind of wanting that.

"Um," she gives Charles a bit of a lost look, she wasn't even supposed to be drinking tonight, "Just a glass of the house white." She's so adventurous.

"I am, in fact, American. Shocking, I know." He grins for emphasis, before explaining, "My mother was English and I've studied there for the past nine years. But I still like baseball and hamburgers."

When the bartender moves off to get them their drinks, Charles resumes speaking about more heartfelt matters. "Mm. If there's one thing this place has taught me, it's never to take people for granted." There's a bodily jolt as he picks himself up and out of the mood he's headed towards. "But it's not all doom and gloom; my best friend is here."

...never mind the fact that they've found out hideous details about their futures and that he needs to be slightly drunk to apply the word 'best.' And so happily, too.

"You sound British, like..." she makes a vague hand gesture that is apparently supposed to mean something, "Posh British. But I'll take your word for it on the Americanness."

"That's a good lesson to learn," Steph doesn't think she ever really took people for granted -- her mom, maybe, but that was because of Reasons. She smiles at him trying to pick up the mood, and decides to make a conscious effort to not be depressing, "From back home? Did you guys show up at the same time?"

"Oxford." And he gives a little shrug. Because let's face it, that more or less explains everything.

"No, he showed up a few months before I did." He doesn't bother to explain the alternate of himself that was here --not because it disturbs him, but because it's needlessly confusing. "Sort of makes sense, really. I always seem to end up tagging after him." It is something that Charles has come to accept in life.

"That would make sense," Steph is a little impressed; she's pretty sure Oxford is that super fancy one.

"Clearly you should blame here for your being here," she is kidding; and now wondering if this means Cass will turn up, "I don't know if I want my best friend here or not."

Life is hard.

"Well, when you put it that way, I'm almost glad. He needs someone to keep him out of trouble." It's said jokingly, and yet if you only knew Erik Lehnsherr. "We both do." Or enable. They work rather neatly that way.

He makes a little sympathetic expression, one hand going out to pat her arm in a friendly gesture. "I know what you mean. I would have been the exact same, even though I would have missed him terribly."

"That's what best friends are for," Keeping each other out of trouble, then she adds, just because she can, "And slumber parties where you talk about boys." Because Steph and Cass have heaps of those. All the time.

"She'd hate it here. It's the one thing keeping me from really wishing for her," It's mostly true, the use of CiDs would especially annoy Cass; relying so heavily on not-in-person communication would be hard for her.

"I can't say I've had much experience with that." Although it does provide a hilarious mental image.

"That's sort of how I feel. Well, no. I think my sister and our friends would like some aspects of this place. But I think I'd end up tearing my hair out over what they'd get up to." No, that's not actually how he will eventually go bald in the future.

OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

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