Bite they little heads off! Nibble on they tiny feet!

[baedalites]

Who: EVERYONE.
What: Catenrat party.
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Givdi the 22nd of Toidaren
Notes: The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread. When your characters are ready to leave, they'll be given a little wooden cheese, a glass fish, and a voucher for a big basket of snacks.
Warnings: None yet. Please put warnings up on individual threads.

The Apache is much the same as it always is: dimly lit, with the jukebox playing in the background, and the bartender serving whatever's on tap. Above the doorway and wound through a few of the sets of antlers some enterprising soul has placed a garland decorated with little blue and green fish.

Comments

Re: Lounge and tables:

[studious_snake]

He nodded. "So are you a herpetologist or something?"

Guess who didn't know movies came in black and white? :|

[mightymorbid]

Looking at Mozenrath, one wouldn't assume that he was the sort who watched a lot of movies, a habit he'd picked up from Snape and Martha. He wasn't the most accustomed to parties -- even his once revered enemy had noted he was not the sort who exactly got invited to many parties -- and so it was his first impulse to find a corner to sulk in, a familiar person to talk to or some sort of distraction that might prevent him from socializing too much.

A movie seemed like a fair compromise. He sat near Martha -- preferring to be close to someone he knew over the alternative (sitting awkwardly by himself), for a moment thinking he would slip in quietly and just not be noticed. He could do that. He was born to do that.

...But then he realized there was something different about this movie, that made it unlike any of the ones he'd watched with Martha. He leaned toward her and tapped her shoulder. "Where are the colors?" he whispered, looking mildly troubled.

[captaincocksure]

"Yeah." He pushes off the wall, straightening up. It's Starfleet training about conducting yourself with proper comportment just as much as it's being in the presence of a lady that makes him stop slouching, rise to his full height, and summon a friendly smile.

"Yeah, it is. Seems like the entire city's in there, somehow. It's fun, but I needed a minute. You?"

[captaincocksure]

His smile takes on an impish cast at her declaration, one hand raising to cover his heart as if he could just swoon from that opinion. "I'd tell you to stop but we both know we're no good at that concept. And I'm a poor liar on top of it. Also, you never know--I could look great in a dress."

His expression softens; he reaches out to take one of her hands in both of his, briefly. Long enough to convey his esteem but ending in plenty of time before it becomes at all pushy or improper.

"It's good to see you, too. Dr. McCoy's here; I should introduce the two of you."

[ruinedu2]

"A minute, or five," Olivia admits easily. "I'm still kind of... absorbing everything. I don't know why I thought diving head-first into a party this big would help." She laughs and shakes her head ruefully. "Make or break me, I suppose. Put me in front of an anomaly that could potentially tear apart the universe, and I won't flinch. But this..."

Her eyes get wide for a moment, pulling a face at her own expense. "Sorry. I'm oversharing. I've either had too much beer, or not enough." She offers out her hand, shaking off her jitters for a moment. "I'm Olivia."

[gotbottle]

"Oh, gosh. I'm sorry."

Never mind that she was the one backed into; Rachel just isn't the type of person to yell at someone for bumping into her. She hadn't seen Rex coming because she was half-turned away from him. One hand goes instinctively out to his elbow, a brief touch to make sure he doesn't lose his footing before she withdraws her hand.

"I was so busy looking at this cat I wasn't even paying attention to anything around me."

She notes the hand to his face, brow knitting slightly with concern. "Is everything all right?"

[captaincocksure]

He shakes his head, holding up a hand to indicate it's just fine. He enjoys people who speak their minds, being one himself.

"It's fine," he says, chuckling. "Don't worry about it. And I'm Jim," he tells her as he shakes her hand, "Jim Kirk. Sounds like you're new-ish to the city, unless I misunderstand?"

[ruinedu2]

"No, you got that right. Not a fresh arrival, but still in that adjustment period." Olivia threads her thumbs through the belt loops of her jeans. "It's nice to meet you. You been here long yourself?"

[captaincocksure]

"I hope you're a patient man."

Jim hops onto the newly-vacated stool to Rhade's right, smiling. "They're swamped tonight. The bartenders are doing the best they can but it's a bit of a wait."

He swings around on the stool so he's facing Rhade, and so he can keep an eye on the bartenders and flag one down when they're not so occupied. "Did you get in to see Dr. McCoy all right?"

[captaincocksure]

Jim is headed in the other direction, toward the bar area, empty pint glass in hand. Of course he notices her--lovely lady in a pretty dress--and as he draws nearer recognition lights up his face.

"Hi." He stops when he reaches her, shifting the glass to his left hand so he can offer his right. "Good to see you again."

[gifted_hands]

One has to go with one's strengths. Angela is very good at talking, and Tadhg is very good at stealthy. Among other things.

He leans in and gives that grin a quick kiss before replying. "Not bad at all. The better for seeing you, of course." A quick wink, and he signals the bartender for a glass for himself and a refill for the lovely lady.

[captaincocksure]

"It's been, um..."

He has to pause to think about it, and that disturbs him mildly, to think he's been here so long the length of time isn't an exact number at the forefront of his thoughts anymore.

"Four months or so. Sometimes I swear it feels like I'm still adjusting. You found work yet?"

[ruinedu2]

She bites her lip, a little sheepish as she admits, "Not yet. Nothing permanent. I run an odd errand here and there, but..." A small sigh escapes her lips. "I keep telling myself that I'll figure out how to get home soon, so I shouldn't get myself invested in anything here." The quirk to Olivia's lips is somewhat sad, "Even though all evidence points to that being impossible."

[truth_is_cold]

His brows raise and he swivels to look at the Captain. He's seen him once or twice in his skulking around the network, but not more often. It's a welcome distraction, immediately an ease off his mind as he sits up a little more formally and salutes him.

He misses protocol a little. Even if Jim isn't High Guard, he can adapt.

"Captain Kirk. It's a pleasure." He holds out his hand, his boneblades along his forearm still covered with metal ones at the moment as the real ones healed. "I'm extremely patient, but company makes the wait less noticeable regardless. And yes I did. I appreciate the recommendation."

[captaincocksure]

"I understand. I did the same myself. Didn't commit to anything full-time because I was sure I was getting out." He offers a sympathetic look. "But I've been making an informal study of the place, and I gotta admit, our chances don't look good. I'm not giving up, though."

[ruinedu2]

"They really don't..." She doesn't dwell on the futility of that statement and instead perks up a bit. "So, did you find work? Are they hiring? I used to be with the Department of Defense before I came here. I'm not sure how well those skills translate to something available here, though..."

[captaincocksure]

He smiles, mildly amused by her response. "All kinds of skills wind up translating, if in unexpected ways," he explains. "I'm a consultant to Hellsing, the Guild for Battling Preternatual Horrors. On-call crisis management and training, mostly in self-defense or hand-to-hand combat. I'm also teaching self-defense classes at one of the city's gyms."

The organization she named sounds familiar; Jim racks his brain a few moments before he comes up with the reference, from history classes. It was an agency from his planet's past, an organization tasked with coordinating national security and overseeing the armed forces of the United States of America. At least, he assumes that's the country she means, based on her accent.

"I'm guessing I'm a couple centuries ahead of you, but I'm more or less a military officer. That's how I've gotten my relevant skills and experience to translate. What did you do for the Department of Defense?"

[captaincocksure]

Jim's first impulse is to suggest they stand down from ceremony, to tell Rhade it's all right to call him Jim. He's a young captain, still new at it, and not among his Starfleet peers; he's more given, these days, to to favor familiarity over formality.

But some people--especially those who have served with some military or peacekeeping organization--enjoy the formality, are comforted by rank and ritual. Spock seems that way, and hell if this guy doesn't remind him of Spock. Jim thinks it over, and decides that maybe in this case, following protocol for now and giving the man time to warm up to him later is the best course of action.

So he nods his acknowledgement of the salute, and shakes Rhade's hand firmly. "Likewise, Mr. Rhade. I have to agree that company makes many things more bearable. And I'm glad to know Dr. McCoy was able to accommodate you." He smiles, and edges, just slightly, out of formality, adding, "He's my closest friend as well as being one of the most outstanding members of the fleet at large, not just my crew; I was happy to make the recommendation."

[truth_is_cold]

And he's served for most of his adult life (a considerable time, considering Nietzscheans are pretty much considered adults as soon as they hit puberty). It is comfortable, at least a bit. But he's also aware that he's far away from the High Guard, and his failures there.

"You may call me Gaheris." He opens up the invitation. "He had technology that was different to what I was accustomed to aboard the Andromeda, but effective nonetheless."

And then there's his drink, his oversized amount of whiskey that he takes with a nod and downs a few swallows like it's water and not scorching its way down his throat.

[toldastory]

Martha had been very engrossed in the story. As soon as she realized what the movie was, she'd gathered up a pocket full of toilet paper and bar napkins in lieu of the tissue that she would have preferred. It's a Wonderful Life was just one of those movies that she practically was in tears for all the way through.

There were more tears there than usual, of course. Until she'd started watching this, Martha hadn't realized that it was Christmas. Her attempts to fix things with Severus had been a mad slap-dash way of not actually dealing with the fact that forever here meant 'forever without your family.'

But she was reminded that not all of her family were locked dimensions away when there was the tap on her shoulder. Quickly Martha turned and smiled with a slightly damp face., Looking to the film and back to him, Martha offered the answer in a whisper. "It's an old movie. From before they could color film."

[toldastory]

"I think it's jingle juice. I'm not sure really. But it's quite good and doesn't taste at all like alcohol. I've become a bit of an alcohol snob, really. But we can't get what we normally drink here and it's a bloody shame." When Martha was under a fair amount of liquor, she spoke rather quickly and giggley. It was a failing.

[thenormalsquint]

"I see I get flattery for the holidays," she remarks, reaching out to brush her hand down his arm. "Speaking of getting things, I got you something. It's not big. Or good, for that matter. But it'll be useful in the future."

[alan_shore]

As threatened, here Alan is, dressed impeccably as ever and holding--'tis the season--a glass of scotch. For the moment he refrains from taking a seat (he'd rather those unacquainted with It's a Wonderful Life had first pick) and situates himself near the pie--both for ease of access and so that he might extol its virtues to anyone in the vicinity.

(He will cease talking once the film starts. For the most part.)

[ruinedu2]

"Hellsing. That's a name I've heard a couple times before." One she knows she really should have followed up on. Resigning herself to this place definitely means it's worth looking into now.

Her brows lift when he makes his estimate of their relevant positions in the history of their (theoretically) shared universe. "Centuries? I don't know why that surprised me." She laughs it off. "I'm in Fringe Division. We investigate abnormal occurrences. Things that threaten the stability of our universe. I'd say advanced scientific breakthroughs, but I suppose they'd be antiquated where you come from."

[betterthansubpoenas]

Scotch is the evening's drink of choice, and though Kalinda Sharma will never admit it, it makes her a little homesick. One of the better remedies for melancholy is sugar, and it doesn't take an investigator of her calibre to spot that pie over where people are watching It's a Wonderful Life.

The movie? Not her cuppa, generally. But she'll pretend to be interested in watching it for a short while if only so she doesn't get dirty looks for stealing their food. Setting her glass aside, she cuts herself just a sliver of the dessert to transfer to a small plate.

That done, she lifts her gaze and offers a smile (that doesn't quite reach her dark eyes) in Alan's direction. "The comforts of home, huh?" She tilts her head toward the television to indicate the classic playing. She doesn't realise they've spoken before. Not just yet.