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

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

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.

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Never let it be said that Hasibe doesn't have an outfit for pretty much every occasion: this one is low-cut wrap dress in glittering silver, not too short, paired with her usual stockings, this time in opaque black, along with towering black heels...and a sapphire pendant necklace that must have cost someone a pretty penny. (That someone is, of course, not her. She doesn't even remember the last time she paid for her own jewelry.)

This is a dress that wants a drink to accompany it, preferably something high in alcoholic content. Unfortunately, for most, that's a difficult feat. Hasibe's little lean over the bar is very much not to use the angling as persuasion (that's both a touch high school and not necessarily a win, regardless of the dress), but rather to ensure that she catches the bartender's attention. One smile and a moment of prolonged eye contact later, she's ordering her drink.

"Anyone else waiting, while I've got a moment?" She glances over her shoulder, figuring she ought to take advantage of her temporary access.

Edited 2011-12-23 13:22 (UTC)

"Ah—if you don't mind. They've got mulled wine, yes?" Jones isn't usually quite as hesitant in ordering drinks—it's not like she's a protestant, after all, no shame in a bit every now and then—but the crowdedness of the party is a little intimidating.

"They do indeed," Hasi confirms, after a quick surveillance of the bar's contents; she puts in the second order, as well as her own, and tilts her head to the side to study Jones sidelong. "Looking for a little social lubricant?"

"Well, are parties not for drinking?" She casts only the slightest glance toward Sebastian LeMat, who is just a little bit behind her and tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

Hasibe is not nearly enough into her cups to miss that, and she observes it with the littlest bit of a smile. "They are, indeed. Do you know Sebastian? He's quite a doll, isn't he?"

"Pint of whatever's on tap?" For some strange reason, Sebastian lacks Hasibe's flare and skill for attracting bartender attention. He is rather brilliant and blending into the crowd and offering to cover both his drink and hers.

"Can do. Do you want me to get one of those little umbrellas...?" She grins at him, playful.

"Of course." He is entirely sincere and if there is an umbrella in his pint, he'll clean off the stick and tuck it behind one ear to complete his Catenrat ensemble. It's no paper crown from a Christmas cracker, but one does one's best in trying times.

There is, indeed, an umbrella in his pint when it comes. "'Tis the season?" Hasi says, muffling a little giggle behind fingertips. "I hope you're having a good time."

"Maybe I should try wearing a dress next time. I haven't been able to catch a bartender yet."

The smile he offers is good-natured, pleased to see her, and warm, if a little tired around the edges (which has nothing to do with her, it's just how he is these days).

"I'll buy your drink, too, if you can get the guy to bring me a beer and a shot of Jack."

"You're my favorite," she enthuses; after ordering her drink, she adds Jim's to her request list. Once that's accomplished, she turns on one teetering heel to look at him from underneath her lashes. The tired note doesn't escape her, but she figures that if he's out, he's good to go.

"Now, what was that about a dress...?" She trails off, smile widening; it's a silly thing, but she couldn't help commenting. "It's good to see you again, by the way."

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."

"Stop, you'll give me ideas," she 'threatens', though that quickly abates as she is visibly charmed by the gesture when he takes her hands. Hasi inclines her head just slightly, in order to regard Jim from beneath her lashes, smile gentle until the conversation resumes.

"I'd love it if you did! I intend to be terribly sociable this evening."

"You say that like there's something wrong with it," he teases back, his gaze and his hand lingering over hers for a few more moments. Then he releases her hand and casts his gaze over the rest of the party.

"He's around here somewhere. Probably holed up in a quiet corner with a bourbon, being his gruff self. He could use some terribly social."

And some good company and a distraction from what Jim knows is Bones blaming himself for vanishing for a month. The emotional contortions that man puts himself through sometimes, seriously.

(Please note his complete failure to realize he does the same thing.)

He doesn't see the doctor anywhere; he turns back to Hasi with a faint shrug. "We'll have to hunt him down in a bit."

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norea - 2012-01-08 19:17 (UTC) - Expand

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captaincocksure - 2012-01-09 02:13 (UTC) - Expand

"Ooh, ooh! Eggnog for me!" Alexia practically slides down the bar. She's a little flushed, and has an empty glass in hand, but doesn't look too much worse for the wear quite yet, and is wearing a slinky green dress that matches the color of her eyes almost uncannily.

"Eggnog it is. We've got the best dresses in this joint, they ought to cater to us, right?" Hasi flashes Alexia a wide smile, a little entertained (and charmed) by the buzzed enthusiasm.

"Exactly." She grins back. "I have to say, it is so great to go to a party that isn't a complete sausagefest for once. And... like, one that is in a nice bar and doesn't have impromptu wrestling matches breaking out and animals running all over the place." She doesn't filter when she's buzzed, okay. "Anyway. Pretty lady high five?"

"I wouldn't completely dismiss the potential for wrestling matches," Hasi speculates, although that may just be her own personal hope for the sake of her amusement.

Also, she will totally give a high five.

Martha had been drinking the worst and most evil sort of drink. It was a drink that large and it was sweet and it tasted like there was no liquor in it at all. Somewhere the way she had lost the light-weight drinker version of herself (between Jack with his hypervodka and Severus with the firewhiskey was what she was guessing) but this drink was hitting her much harder than she expected.

Which meant that it was time for another one really. One slightly tipsy Martha-Snape Jones grinned at Hasi and shook her glass a bit. "Can I have another one of these please?"

"What is it?" The container looks fairly sizable, and she has to wonder--approvingly, mind you--how much Martha's put away. "Because if it's good, I might have to give it a try, myself."

"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.

Hasi does not seem to mind; in fact, she rather envies Martha's inebriated state. (But she's working on getting there!)

"Jingle juice it is. I know what you mean about the alcohol snobbery--except I decided I liked tequila purely to be contrary."

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toldastory - 2012-01-06 19:38 (UTC) - Expand

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norea - 2012-01-08 19:13 (UTC) - Expand

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toldastory - 2012-01-10 20:40 (UTC) - Expand

"Just soda for me, thanks."

Looming up from behind, Hellboy's big enough that he could probably make a space for himself to get his own drink, but given the state of things at the moment, that would probably involve a fair bit of rudeness on his part. This way was more sociable, and involved a rather better view than the bar and its tender. He gives a self-deprecating little half-shrug to acknowledge that yes, he's ordering soda in a bar.

Hasibe does not judge! She does, however, raise her eyebrows, archly, and ask him what is, judging by her tone, a terribly important question: "What kind of soda? Because they do have strawberry."

Hellboy opens his mouth, about to say something about soda-soda, but then pauses to consider. After a moment, he says, "That sounds intriguing, actually. I'll give it a try."

Congratulations, Hasi. Your serious question has steered one person, at least for the time being, from just drinking ordinary soda.

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