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

Lounge and tables:

[baedalites]

Baskets of food are passed hand to hand, placed on tables, and here you can find all the heart attacks you could ask for. Onion rings, skinny fries, salted peanuts, wooden platters of oven cooked pizza, and all of these are going fast, so you might want to be aggressive.

Re: Lounge and tables:

[studious_snake]

After he was freed from the tiny room and got settled in, he scanned through the journal entries in his CiD, not enough to get a huge about of information, but enough to find out about the party. Normally he wouldn't have gone, but he saw it was mentioned that it was after this that they'd be getting something to put outside the door, and that otherwise the cats and rats would do as they pleased with the giving and taking away of things.

He was a king cobra in snake form, and as such usually ate other snakes, but when snakes weren't available he could eat other prey as well, and in the current situation, rats would have to do. That meant, of course, he didn't want anything to be at the rats' discretion, so he figured it would be best to show up, get a fish to put out for the cats, and ensure the rats wouldn't be running off with a kidney or something.

Until then, he'd sit in a corner, eating and drinking nothing, waiting for the party to be over.

Re: Lounge and tables:

[requiresssacrifice]

Now that he was paying his own bills for the first time in... years, Rex was going to take advantage of the free food offered at the party and eat what he could. Right now, he was working on a slice of pizza, because, well, he wasn't the biggest fan of fried foods. He stood in the lounge, looking around for somebody to talk to so that he wasn't just standing around in the way, getting his... awkwardness all over everybody.

Rex was never really very good at parties.

Jay, at least, he recognized from the Network, so Rex eventually made his way over to him.

"I see you made it out of that room," he remarked. There, idle chatter established.

Re: Lounge and tables:

[studious_snake]

"Yeah. The fairy girl let me out." He then paused, looking a bit awkward for a moment, not really knowing what to say next, but knowing that he didn't really want to sit staring at each other in silence. Naturally, his mind went to what information he still needed to know, and what ways he could find out more.

His eyes focusing on a nearby decoration, Jay decided to tackle the most present issue first. "So...uh...what's with the cat and rat stuff? Normally I'd think it was a local myth, but considering the fact that I woke up locked in a room in a strange city where people who can fly is a normal thing, I don't want to write it off too quickly."

Re: Lounge and tables:

[requiresssacrifice]

Rex shrugged, looking down at his pizza with a little frown as a tiny pool of grease transformed into a tiny river, heading towards one of the edges. He fussily dabbed it with his napkin.

"I'm new myself, so I couldn't tell you much." Now that the pizza situation was handled, he brought his gaze up to look at Jay, a bland, neutral expression on his face. "But I was told that my own cat disappeared to go to the annual cat... conference. Where they handle cat business." Judging by the tone of his voice, Rex was neither convinced nor impressed.

Re: Lounge and tables:

[studious_snake]

Watching the grease dribble down the pizza, Jay's upper lip turned up in disgust. Human food was not appetizing. The expression faded when he forced himself to look at Rex's face instead of his food, however.

"Cat business." Jay's tone was a bit flat with that. "And what's that, exactly? Making sure the rats in the city are premium quality and that there's a ball of yarn in every paw?" It sounded a bit ridiculous to him. "Are they sure this isn't some kind of cat mating season and they aren't all in a mating ball in a dark alley somewhere?"

This whole thing was weird, though probably worse for the guy wondering where his cat really went off to. "Hope your cat comes back. And I guess I shouldn't be too skeptical, I mean, it's not like this place follows traditional logic, but still..."

Re: Lounge and tables:

[requiresssacrifice]

"Whatever it is, it's all very mysterious." He took a bite of pizza and chewed quietly, scoffing a little once he swallowed. "Mating ball? Come on, they're cats, not garter snakes."

Not that anybody but Rex or another similarly geeky herpetologist would get that.

Re: Lounge and tables:

[studious_snake]

He shrugged. "I've never had cats before, I don't know how they do it. I just know some animals do the mating ball thing because I've seen one in my sister's room before." Awkward pause. "The snakes were mating in a ball, not my sister." Another pause. "My sister's a herpetologist."

[toldastory]

Food. Yes, Martha was definitely in need of some food. The sweet-and-deadly liquor that she'd been drinking was rolling about a largely empty stomach, and while the feeling of being tipsy was fun, she didn't want it to move into the realm of illness.

It was sheer dumb luck that had made it so that Martha had found herself in possession of nearly an entire pizza. She'd missed real pizza, and the cheese was still in that delightful molten state. If only it had pepperoni on it then everything would be perfect with the world.

[requiresssacrifice]

Rex, himself, was somewhat tipsy-- just enough to feel warm, a little loose, but not enough to lose control over himself. Now that he'd had a few drinks, he wandered back to the lounge to seek out some more free food. If there were any peanuts left, they were going to be wrapped up and shoved in his pocket for later snackage. He moved over to the peanut bowls, frowning when he found them empty. Damn. Rex grabbed a handful of pretzels and started away, then spotted Martha with practically an entire pizza. He stared at her for a moment, then... Well, what the hell.

"You're not going to eat all of that yourself, are you?"

[toldastory]

The familiar voice threw her for a moment, and she blinked quickly, having a distinct sense of deja vu. Right, Rex was here too, and she knew him and they were still in the city after being chosen from gods. Blimey, it still sounded silly especially when it came to her slightly spinny mind.

"I hadn't decided," Martha admitted, and then she shifted the plate towards him with a smile. "You can have some if you like. It's just cheese though. I didn't catch pepperoni." Regret at that? Definitely.

[requiresssacrifice]

Rex looked at the pizza, considering, then took a slice. He wasn't hungry, really, but another slice of free pizza wasn't going to hurt him. (Great, it was like he was back in college.)

"Thanks," he said, folding the slice over itself. "Where's your... husband?"

Derp derp internetfail derp

[toldastory]

"He's about here somewhere. We split up so I could watch the movie. I haven't seen a movie in ages and it was brilliant. Sev isn't really a movie fan." One of his few (but largest, in Martha's esteem) failings.

"How are you finding things here?"

[gifted_hands]

Magical as he may be, Tadhg needs to eat just like anyone else does. The spells he works draw partly on his own physical energy, and given the fact that he turns into a horse and goes for a gallop on a regular basis, let's just say the man has an interesting metabolism.

This might explain why he has staked out a table bearing a hefty array of food. A platter of onion rings and mozzarella sticks (it's some kind of mild, white cheese anyway), a couple of largish funnel cakes, a basket of peanuts, and a couple dozen sweet and savory pasties or empanadas or some variation on the theme of filled turnovers all vie for attention.

Or he could want to attract some company. He certainly looks willing to share all those goodies. Right now he's noshing on a turnover, regarding his fellow celebrants with a smile of caloric good will.

[hearditbothways]

It's the mozzarella sticks that draw Shawn in. He still hasn't found a job - not that he has been actively looking, because he plans on working the psychic routine as soon as he knows more about this city - so free food is a high priority. He may or may not have already started stuffing his pockets at this point.

"That's quite a display," he praises, while the first handful of snacks makes his way to his mouth. "Inviting. Effective. Like a candy truck, but more open and less creepy." He stops, because that is the moment where he sees Tadgh's eyes. "I may have to revise that statement."

Not that it stops him from taking another stick.

"I do have one question-- Are those eyes real, and if not, are they removable? Furthermore, are you planning on tossing them at people at some point in the near future, and is it possible to receive a warning beforehand? I'm a spitter when startled. You don't want that. Nobody wants that. Except maybe tiny animals who live off remains that larger species left behind. Like sparrows."

[gifted_hands]

Polite púca that he is (usually), Tadhg waits patiently for a break in this ramble before gesturing to a seat at the table, inviting this new arrival to join him. Besides, the animation in both the man's gestures and his patterns is quite amusing to watch.

When he can finally get a word in edgewise, he puts on his blandest, most innocuous smile. "Well now, that's quite a load of questions. To answer the first might require a deeper discussion on the nature of reality." He blinks periodically while he speaks, and with every blink, his eyes change: from animal-like to human-normal in various colors, then cycling through some more outre looks.

"As for the rest, I've no plans to remove them, much less throw them, but I can't speak for anyone else. Or for anything else that might happen. There are so many possibilities, you see."

Politeness, it must be said, never stopped Tadhg MacEibhir from trolling.

[hearditbothways]

It takes Shawn a moment to make out the words, because he is mesmerized and horrified by the changing eyes. "Dude. It's like those little look-through binoculars with shifting pictures and a click lever on the side."

Successful troll is successful, however, at least for now. It doesn't mean that Shawn won't try to play along, though. "Really now! My last interdimensional travel took place during my high school years, so it's been a while. How do these parties end when Biddle-people get drunk?"

[alan_shore]

"A superlative Catenrat to you," Alan says, exuding goodwill and a certain self-satisfied air in just about equal measure. Without waiting for an invitation, he joins Tadhg at the table, shifting the peanuts a few inches to the right to accommodate his scotch.

"I hope you don't mind--I couldn't help noticing that the consumer-to-comestible ratio seemed rather outlandishly lopsided." He snags an onion ring, regarding it speculatively before taking a delicate nibble.

[indiscreet]

It's not that she wants to eat — not anything that the Apache is liable to be serving, at any rate; she'd made the requisite stop in Mafaton ahead of time, since really there was nothing worse at a party than being the Kindred sort of hungry.

No, it's more that she's making the rounds, admiring the cohort's holiday finery (the discovery that hemlines may apparently be worn above the knee outside a burlesque was one she made with wicked delight, and she's more than satisfied with her own selection), and the sight of the sheer quantity of food in front of this man is simply too amusing to pass up the opportunity of commenting on. And besides, he's not unattractive.

She has an elegant way of walking as she approaches; it comes with the dance training.
"I'm not sure whether to be more impressed or concerned that you seem to think you're going to finish all that. I suppose if you actually do, I'll settle for impressed." Her tone is playful, as is the hand resting on her hip.

[deadclumsy]

Tonks, in all her usual glory and desire to be the center of attention, is currently sitting in the midst of the fun, trying to regale neighbors with stories from Before the War - amusing anecdotes of trouble she and others brought upon themselves. When that fails to distract her from the fact that her cohort has been invited (and thus her aunts and uncles), she resorts to changing her nose to a pig snout, then a duck's bill: entertaining herself as well as the others around her.

She doesn't want to be home and alone, but neither does she want to have to acknowledge that Aunt Bellatrix or Uncle Lucius might show up at any moment and spoil all her fun.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Hellboy wanders by the lounge for some grub in time to see the nose transformations, and stops to admire the work.

"Very nice," he says. "How's it done, if you don't mind my asking?"

[deadclumsy]

Tonks has a decidedly accepting reaction to Hellboy's appearance (after all, she's sporting a pair of eyebrows that need hedge clippers and mule ears by now).

She grins amiably and counters, "How's yours done?"

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Having seen a few of these transformations now, he hasn't much narrowed down whether it's a shapeshifting power or some kind of magic -- or possibly both. Her counter-question suggests that he may not get an answer, but that doesn't bother him any, so he just shrugs and grins in return.

"These," he says, gesturing to the stumps on his forehead, "I keep filed down with a belt sander. The rest is just me as I am." He extends his left hand. "Name's Hellboy."

[deadclumsy]

After meeting The Courageous Enigma (Shawn), Tonks is well convinced that the name 'Hellboy' is some sort of chosen appellation.

Like Voldemort, the Dark Lord, or Snuffles.

She takes his hand with a grin anyway and gives it a good shake. If his appearance disturbs her at all, she's not letting on. "Tonks. Why keep them filed down?"

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Many's the time that Hellboy has wondered just how different his life might've been had Prof. Bruttenholm not said the word that became his name, or had it not stuck in so in the imaginations of those around whom he'd said it, such that Hellboy might've ended up with some other, presumably more normal name. He has, on occasion, considered taking his adoptive father's name as his own, but knowing the difficulties that the Professor himself had with people hearing how it was pronounced and mistaking the spelling, it would only make his troubles worse to have people think his name was Hellboy Broom.

(Not least of which, it sounds like some sort of BPRD licensed merchandise.)

"Nice to meet you, Tonks." His smile -- such as it is, his stony features not made well for them -- takes a wryer turn. "Well, the obvious answer is a token effort to looking less like, well, what I look like. Truth is, though, it's mostly because I have enough trouble with doors, airplanes, and other cramped spaces without three feet of horns sticking up for no good reason. They were cute when I was a kid, but when I started bumping my head all the time, they had to go."