multiversallogs | OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

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.

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To combat the cold as well as the pain of social endeavours, drinks can be obtained at happy hour prices. Beers in pitchers, whiskey in heavy crystal glasses, shots of some concentrated liquor that burns on the way down but is not, apparently, called tequila. The sound of the jukebox is heard over noisy conversation, and people camp at bar-edge for access.

Outside is a good enough place to escape, even though it's sharply colder out here than it was in there. There's melted snow on the concrete ground, along with cigarette butts and discarded beer cans. Good enough to have a quick smoke, be alone with your thoughts, and lurk in the shadows.

There's space for guests to take their drinks and have comparatively quiet conversations. Some are talking about the people they've left at home, while others might mention new friends made in Baedal.

Slightly more sociable than back alleys, this outside option is lit with paper lamps in the shape of boats and hearts, surrounded by the ubiquitous fairy lights. The ground is damp concrete and some outsider furniture scatters around the space, barred off from the rest of the neighbourhood with rustic rough plank fencing. People stand, smoke, chatter in loose mingling in the chilly air.

As much as Ilde likes to socialize, periodically, the way the Apache fills up when they do this is sometimes a little more than she's quite willing to embrace, and it's easier to be outside (where she can still wear her hat); it's cool enough that it's quieter out here, cigarette smoke rising and enough dimmed chatter going on that she doesn't feel isolated by drifting away from the bar proper, the lounge areas.

Her attendance had been spur of the moment, so she texts Ivan (at the Apache; are you coming?) after her cigarette is lit and-- watches, mostly, for the time being, big-eyed and quiet in her slightly unsettling way.

This really isn't the sort of thing that Kaitlyn has money for at the moment, and yet here she is. How could she not, sentimental sap she could be. A stop by the bar had rewarded her with a glass of whiskey, probably her only one for the night, and from there it was out to the courtyard. As much as she loves bars and would rather be leaning up against the jukebox, something about being outside just felt better for the moment.

Glass in hand, she spends most of the time milling about the edges of the courtyard. She'd been mostly trying to avoid thinking about back home too hard, but after finding out what today was all about, it was a bit hard. Still, she tries to keep a smile on her face as she mills about, offering a smile to anyone who looks in her direction. If nothing else, it's nice to be out and be something resembling social again.

Since his eviction from the Inn, Shrieky's living situation has taken a brief dip into the unfortunate, before veering off into the unexpectedly wonderful. A chance encounter with a charming young woman whose face and neck were bejewelled with scales, led to him being invited to join a close knit Xenian squatters commune occupying one of the abandoned houses in Badside.

In all, five or six of the first generation Xenians from the squat have come out for St. Kelley's, but over the course of the holiday they've drifted away. Some alone, and others in pairs, to contemplate their old homes and the memento's they've received.

Shrieky is sitting at the table they'd initially settled down at, alone now, and a little drunk. There's still a fairly good measure of beer left in the last pitcher they'd bought, and he's beginning to understand why people force themselves to like the stuff.

Edited 2012-02-11 04:05 (UTC)

It's not as though she has anyone she's planning to meet, or even a boat to send. (Well, there had been some lingering thoughts of a certain Gangrel -- all that nonsense they had shared about mates and the like -- but it was so much easier to put it behind her.) But, to be honest, Anna has been really longing for a good party -- something to put herself back out into the world. She did get lonely without the other Chicago Kindred; Jones understood a great deal, but they could not and would never quite be of exactly the same sphere.

In any event, rambling philosophies of loneliness to herself was all well and good for the last hours before dawn, but they were dull during the night, and she had a new dress. And besides, all those little floating lanterns were bound to be pretty. So she had taken care of the irksome business of feeding in Mafaton, and was now draped prettily over the lounge, cradling an untouched glass of wine in one hand.

Edited 2012-02-11 04:10 (UTC)

As much as he loves clubbing, low-key gatherings are, believe it or not, Jae's favorite way to play. So he's very pleased to be at the Apache, despite being a bit out of place aesthetically. He's got a couple shots in him already and is pleasantly up to beer, mellow, chatting with anyone who's interested and generally enjoying himself. He moves in between the bar and the lounge area as needed, though at this very moment in time, he's back at the bar.

Her first thought on seeing Ilde is a sudden realization of how long it has been since they last spoke. And really, that won't do at all -- because these nights she finds that there's a true sense of satisfaction in being around other fae... regardless of how endlessly strange it is to start to identify herself as on some level one of them. Ilde could hardly be less like the Princess, of course, but there's a sort of conspiratorial levity about her that she remembers as being a refreshingly different sort of fae intensity.

She starts a bit at the ember of the cigarette, but it's not so bad. The real problem is that one of the time since they last interacted. Still, her smile is easy because she's good at faking these things.

"Ilde, darling-- I'm glad to find you here."

Ivan's text back is simple and precise: I'll come if you want me. He'd been out and about himself, but it was a private moment watching the boats. He had a lot of past to consider.

He's not hard to tug away from it, though.

Tadhg is no longer at the bar, per se. He drifts in the direction of the jukebox after collecting a large, hot mug of something the bartender referred to as a Nose Warmer. Even his nose can't pick out all the various liquors that went into the coffee, but it should live up to its name nicely enough, he thinks.

He offers the odd greeting and excuse me to those he passes, but his mind is still on the little boat he set adrift earlier, draped with a delicate heart-shaped charm braided of grass stems. Fetching up against a pillar next to the jukebox, he raises his mug to no one in the room. "Bail ort," he murmurs. Blessings upon you.

Having both a good memory and some skill in social situations - imperfect but not absent, shades of the life not lived - she puts her cigarette out behind her as she stands up to greet Anna with cheek kisses and a warmly easy smile that would probably have been a little less of one or the other if she hadn't already eased her way into a drink. (It's nothing personal; a lot's happened, since they last spoke, and it'd be overly generous to say that Ilde is actually coping with any of it.)

"I was thinking," she says, drawing back, "that I hadn't seen you in too long."

Ilde hadn't lingered long after sending her own out; she's not sure what she's expecting, if she's expecting anything at all, and after a few moments by the waterside she hadn't really wanted to think about it any more. Something will happen-- but it will do so without her constant scrutiny, and even if it's been easier, lately, the distance between herself and her family...it's easier again with a bit of alcohol and some familiar faces.

I'm out in the courtyard.

"How perfect that we should be so like-minded." It's small talk; it doesn't really mean anything, but it's as natural to her as any bit of useful artifice. (And she really does appreciate the cigarette being snuffed out, regardless of whether or not the gesture was intentional.)

"You look just lovely, of course." There's the subtle sense (a kind of flickering awareness) of the less-human appearance beneath the glamour, but she means it honestly -- in part because of that fact. (The things she finds beautiful these nights sometimes surprise her, but as they make life more interesting, she's not inclined to complain.) "You ought to tell me what I've missed."

Jae doesn't recognize Tadhg personally, but he must be on their cohort; most of the room is. After several more mugs of beer and an equal many instances of watching this guy toast no one, he sidles over, briefly touching the other man's shoulder.

"Dude."

He is both friendly and concerned. Are you sadly sitting in a corner bestowing blessings on an empty space? Don't be that guy. "Are you okay?"

I died, she thinks but doesn't entertain actually saying; it's the sort of thing that stays on a person's mind for a while, that, but it's not the sort of conversation she's presently interested in having. Her interactions with Anna in the past have always veered sharply and interestingly between an easy-breezy kind of faerie camaraderie and that which is sharper and darker, which suits her by nature and gives her a kind of context to view future conversations filtered through-- playful monsters.

"I got my harp, finally," she says, sitting back down and making room on the bench she's acquired for new company. "Erik paid off the rest of what I owed on it and I have it at home, now, it's-- gorgeous. It's a concert grand, so it's taller than I am."

"Hmm?" Tadhg blinks and glances up, a smile at the ready for the young man before him. "Well enough, thanks. I just drifted away for a bit." Worlds away, to be precise.

After shifting his mug to his left hand, he offers the right for a handshake. "Tadhg MacEibhir. I promise, I don't usually talk to thin air in public places." He raises his drink in a genial salute.

She sits beside her, still a politely maintained distance between them. But she actually claps her hands together with something like glee at the mention of the harp; her soft spot for artistry in general is inevitably transparent to anyone who spends any length of time with her.

"That has to be the most wonderful thing I've heard in at least three nights. I think my favorite part is that I'm picturing it as a sort of great golden beast sitting in your living room. My favorite part will be the music, I'm sure, once I've heard it."

Steph had spent a fair bit of time considering whether or not to go to the Apache after sending her boat out, but eventually she figured that she'd probably need some company instead of spending the night alone and sad in her house.

Spotting Jae in a crowd isn't tricky, but Steph is pleased to see him and heads over to him when he's gone to the bar, so she doesn't interrupt a conversation.

"Hey, you."

Since Will is behaving like a normal person today and not creeping around in an alley way in Flyside, it's kind of nice to see familiar faces in amongst all the strangers. At the moment, Jae is decidedly the most familiar, which is probably a good way to start off the night. He still hasn't decided what to do, so he can just set it aside for now and try to enjoy himself.

“Hey there,” he says, dropping down next to Jae at the bar. “This seems familiar.” Less loud music and drunk people than usual, but that suits Will fine.

It is about then that Ivan wanders up, still smoking his cigarette. "Good evening," he says as he joins them; he presumes Ilde will tell him to go away if she wants a private conversation.

Aside from seeing her around the network a few times – which was more surprising than this, because of course she could walk around on land and use phones, and doesn't actually live in the river, so he's got all of that out of his system already – Will hasn't run into Ilde again, brief conversations about showcasing his junk notwithstanding. He's taking a break from all the chatter and crowded warmth inside, and it only takes a moment for him to decide to stop next to her.

“Hi,” he says, offering a smile. “Seems like a lot of folks are down here tonight.”

At this point it can be safely assessed that it was deliberate when Ilde put her cigarette out-- she takes Ivan's, inhales, and then puts that one out as well. Through her exhalation, "Speaking of my belongings, hello, handsome." She is the best girlfriend, where 'best' means 'sassiest, to a point'. "Anna, this is Ivan; Ivan, Anna. We were just talking about my harp-- I got new furniture for my music room, actually," in an aside, mostly to Anna, "a friend of mine was giving it away."

It takes her a long time to send the boat out into the water. For at least ten minutes, she stays crouched with the paper boat cupped carefully in her hands as the water laps at her boots. The whole thing is probably just a superstition, and she knows not to get her hopes up and actually expect anything, but there's still a little message written on the boat. I'm safe, I miss you, I love you. Stephanie. She's not sure exactly who she has in mind, but her mom, Cass, Kara and the Babs from her world are people she misses desperately. She hopes they aren't worrying about her, even though she knows they will be.

She doesn't believe in God, not the kind she had back home, and she isn't inclined to believe in the ones here, just because someone told her to. She knows she should investigate properly, but there hasn't been the time. It's an excuse for this now, anyway; she can send the boat out, and if she receives something from home, maybe she'll start putting more faith in the Twelve Point Divinity.

Eventually she stands and walks in a little deeper into the water, not minding that the hems of her jeans are getting wet, it's good enough that her boots are waterproof. "Please." She whispers to the boat, or maybe to the gods, before setting it in the water.

She stays there for longer still, arms wrapped around herself against the chill, watching her boat until she can't pick it out from the others.

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OPEN :: A golden bird was singing

Bar area:

Side alley:

Lounge and tables:

Courtyard:

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enjoying the "playful monsters" desc, jsyk

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@the shore