http://bonhomme7h.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] bonhomme7h.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] multiversallogs2011-08-08 08:05 pm

It's like paradise, spread out with a butter knife :: [OPEN]

Who: EVERYONE
What: Réjean has decided that more people ought to celebrate and help raise a bit of dosh for one of his favourite bars. See: flyer.
Where: The Apache.
When: Misdi night and into the wee hours of the morning.
Warnings: Discussion of Pickman's manky feet.

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. Tonight, the bar is packed with people from all across the city, different cantons and cohorts, all out to celebrate surviving the fungal plague. Patrons are encouraged to buy tickets for a door prize with the proceeds going to repair the damage tunnelling ants made to the cellar.

[identity profile] sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 06:34 am (UTC)(link)
"I come from Finnmark myself, and I have Sámi ancestry -my mother's grandparents. My family aren't reindeer herders, but if you live near Hammerfest they tend to hang around whether you want them to or not." Although he had noted, at sixteen-years-old, that they were much more likely to scatter when he was nearby.

He gives a good natured laugh. "No, it's not to everyone's tastes. I prefer it, personally, but then I used to live on Svalbard for a few years." Also known as Polarbearville, Norwegia.
Edited 2011-08-17 06:35 (UTC)

[identity profile] baedalites.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 07:52 am (UTC)(link)
Maybe he should have thought of that two days ago and subsequently given his CiD to someone he doesn't like very much. The people he's in touch with didn't receive their training at the Fair Chance Academy.

"You know who this is." But you know, whatever, feel free to play games. "We were told us you had something for us. We'd like to discuss that offer in detail. Please stay on the line."

The fun thing - well, one of the fun things - about the Militia is its ability to manifest where previously there was nothing but ordinary citizens. It's one of the perks of keeping the majority of your operatives anonymous. You can be anyone and you can be anywhere. You can, for instance, be on Coleburn Street in Mog Hill when word comes down that a target has made itself known.
cailisairgid: (privacy ∞ my turbulent spirit will rise)

[personal profile] cailisairgid 2011-08-17 09:20 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, I've got my minions." Aides. He has aides. He also has a bourbon, a beer and one gin and tonic, so he pays the bartender and spares only a brief, curious glance at Arthur's frown. "But, unfortunately, they don't do beer runs." Coffee, yes, and a lot of it. "It was nice talking to you, I'll let you take care of whatever that is."
cailisairgid: (pause ∞ in the hollow of his hand)

[personal profile] cailisairgid 2011-08-17 09:25 am (UTC)(link)
Reemerging briefly from the throng with the air of a man who is about to roll off in another direction any minute- "A gin and tonic for the lady, and for the gentleman and the scholar, one pint." The bourbon is for him, evidently, and he will accept congratulations now for having spilled none of them on the way. "And if you two will excuse me, I think I've spotted someone I need to catch up with."
cailisairgid: (optimist ∞ you pour out for him hope)

[personal profile] cailisairgid 2011-08-17 09:46 am (UTC)(link)
"Thank you," he says, mildly, with a smile. "We try. Yeah, officially we're the guild of Battling Preternatural Horrors. It was formerly defunct, my boss - Sir Integra Hellsing, I knew her in a city a little like this once before - took it over and we're pretty much filling the niche and doing some of our own thing. Social services, investigative work, crisis response." All with a supernatural bent, naturally.

The delicate balance between Integra's philosophy (kill 'em all and let god sort 'em out) and Nuala's approach (peace to prove a point) makes life interesting, but sheer bloody-mindedness is getting them through. They make it work, and even Sol's casual discussion of his work indicates pride in it, in the people he works with.
cailisairgid: (doubts ∞ seem frosty gems that glitter)

[personal profile] cailisairgid 2011-08-17 09:49 am (UTC)(link)
Sol makes a quick lips-zipped gesture, amused. "Your secret's safe with me. Solomon Koenig- unwanted by Ceith," in other words, not on any of the missions, "but I can console myself with the fact Sir Hellsing likes me." Because he works for her. (And reminds her worryingly of her father - he's like the lost Hellsing, it's bizarre.)

[identity profile] pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 11:59 am (UTC)(link)
She's long ago learned that her looks are noticeable, though she's yet to fully capitalise on them.

"Not overly so - a couple of months is my estimate. And yourself?"

[identity profile] pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 12:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"Mm," Narcissa agrees, but it's not quite complete. "I should clarify; I knew who they were, but they weren't the people I knew."

She frowns.

"I'm not sure how to explain it without sounding utterly mad."

[identity profile] pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 12:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Narcissa doesn't like to have her manners commented on, more so when she believes herself to be the social superior - ah, the trappings of Pureblood society. Either way, she never introduces herself until asked. It's a little snooty, but so is she.

"Narcissa Black, how do you do."

this tag was lost ;_; but now it is found!

[identity profile] ofminastirith.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 12:28 pm (UTC)(link)
His would definitely fall into the former. While he's not truly forgiven himself for his actions yet, he's glad to know they didn't in any way hinder the quest. It is a huge relief.

"It usually only comes to people with elven ancestry in my world, or else someone particularly wise." Then, because he realises how that sounded, "And I can say most assuredly that my one instance of foresight was caused by my lineage."

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 12:42 pm (UTC)(link)
He exhales smoke away from the receiver. That sounds reasonable enough, he can just

...wait.

Arthur's brain has finally caught up with life, and now that it has done so, it suggests he should fling his CiD into the street and run... but the instinct is weak, and fleeting, and besides that it's the sort he learned to ignore years ago, and had he not done so he'd be too dead to be standing here right now. Walking, rather, away from here, casually as you please.
His CiD's brand new home is now a particularly bushy plant in someone's streetside garden. He'll acquire a new one. Somehow. Probably spend most if not all of his boon money to get it, too, damn it.

Ever so calmly fleeing the scene. Don't run, kid. Not yet.
defenestration: (got your hair combed back)

[personal profile] defenestration 2011-08-17 02:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, you're very good, Alan. Adrian's ego appreciates both the attention and the compliment, even if his intellect knows that it's all for show.

"And I must compliment you on your boldness and good taste." Adrian raises his own glass in the subtlest of salutes before taking a drink as well. "Although I for one have hopes that nothing too thrilling happens to ruin the party."

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"A local variety of Manhattan, presumably—caught it on a menu earlier on. I'm guessing the Tar isn't literal. Well, I'm hoping." He is not going to drink actual tar to avoid seeming ungrateful, Baedal, just for the record.

"...So. About this psychedelic teahouse of yours."

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 06:00 pm (UTC)(link)
As some manner of luck would have it, Arthur happens to be very fond of lady singers, and so this interests him genuinely. Also, he can't read narrative text and keeps forgetting about the mer...person... fey... issue, thing, so he must ask, "No? Why not?"

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"Thanks. Some day I'll learn to turn it off," he says, and...doesn't quite smile, but looks friendly enough. ...Well, for Arthur.

As he turns to wade through the crowd, he adds, "And I'd think about editing that in when the minions' contracts are due for renewal."

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 06:14 pm (UTC)(link)
If he knew Alan very well at all he may have done just that, just to make some kind of point, even though he actually prefers cocktails to whisky.

"Actually, it's more of a surprise. To be frank I didn't expect you to make it out of that house in one piece, either." Technically, this is a compliment. Sort of.

[identity profile] baedalites.livejournal.com 2011-08-17 11:05 pm (UTC)(link)
It's a clear night, no wind. Strange stars are visible in the sky where they're not faded by light pollution. It's a little cool for summer, but the season is waning. It's going to be fall soon and cobbled streets will be slick with rain and dead leaves. For now though, they are dry and empty. Distant city sounds include vehicles, drunken revelry and footsteps.

Chances are Arthur's already been spotted. If so, the plan can't be for him to get very far but away from the Apache and the more awake areas. No one will want a mess.

Actually there is someone else on the street with Arthur right now. They aren't moving very quickly, nor are they putting any effort into subterfuge. They are just there, moving along.

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-18 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
Swell. They can have a low-speed chase in a straight line for a while. Get intimate with the sound of each other's footsteps. Casual footsteps. Or Arthur could make use of the first left turn he happens to meet, intending to use it to disappear—which, in this case, means to run his ass away, even if no one's actually following him and he looks ridiculous and may twist an ankle on these goddamn cobbles.

It's nice that the streets are dry. Dress shoes aren't especially great on wet stones.

...Any time now, left turn. Annny time now. Or maybe a right turn. He's not picky.
rhinemaid: actress mia kirshner (is yours again and only yours ♠)

[personal profile] rhinemaid 2011-08-18 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
"I can-" she makes a gesture with her hand as they wait for their drinks, sort of indicative of 'some kind of mind magic'. "I think it's why my father's charity concerts always raised the goal figure. It's magic. I think I'm too drunk to be sure I wouldn't accidentally make everyone want to dance." Etcetera.

"But it's fine sober. I teach music." And, you know, she's not whammying her students right and left, though her lessons do carry an inherently magical edge to them. Her students will be good.

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-18 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh, right, the uh..." The thing he cannot name, evidently, and must make a vague—but not dismissive—hand gesture instead. Bear with him, he's still having some trouble accepting Baedal on the whole for what it is. (Yes, still. Will he ever?)

"Do you have any pupils yet here in the city?"
rhinemaid: actress mia kirshner (your poetry was never in vast supply ♠)

[personal profile] rhinemaid 2011-08-18 01:38 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh- yes, this is where I've started." Before Baedal, Ilde had never actually had a job, per se; she doesn't think joining Sonja's army counts, exactly, and her father had been content to spoil her outrageously. "I offer piano, violin and cello, mostly. I like the harp, but I don't have one here and it's not as common. I could probably play anything." She's also a bit more conversationally friendly, when she's been drinking.

"I do a bit of interior design here, too. It's really just a case of trying to make money off having been spoiled and unqualified for real work." Well, she's honest.
patricide: (screw your courage to the sticking-place)

[personal profile] patricide 2011-08-18 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
Lex listens carefully, amazed at how much the man is opening up after how little he has known him. He finds it interesting that Aimery stresses how he was never violent, it wouldn't have made a difference to how Lex thought of him or his ability.

"Bete Noire sounds like quite the place," is all Lex will say regarding that. While he would definitely like to know more about the city, he can't see it for himself. What he can see is Aimery and that's who he intends to learn of and from.

"I assume you have other uses for your gift besides party tricks."

[identity profile] paintfromlife.livejournal.com 2011-08-18 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Hah! Won't argue there." He has more experience than most people would think, with that set. "I was down in a tunnel, an' the bottom fell out. When I landed, it was in one of those fuckin' tiny little rooms. S'all I got."

[identity profile] baedalites.livejournal.com 2011-08-18 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
Oh there is a left turn up ahead. It's nearly obscured by the light hanging near by; some combination of burning gas and tinted glass turns it blue. If it's for illumination, it wasn't set up with apes in mind.

Something about the footsteps following Arthur shift. Maybe they are veering a little to the right, maybe the pace is changing.

Meanwhile, up beyond that left turn, a presence lurks. It has done a passable job at concealing itself. To be fair it has the elements on its side; darkness and a near preternatural ability to hold still and be quiet. It is waiting for someone to turn down its alley or walk right past it. It's versatile lurker. It can adapt.

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-18 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
Arthur wasn't planning on dashing down an alley, of all the foolish things, but must at least give it a look to see if it leads anywhere promising—like, say, if there's any presence of light at the other end and a lack of structures to block his exit, that would be ideal.

Presently, he makes the dopey move of looking right back over his shoulder to see what Mr. Footsteps is up to back there, and uses the same turn of his head to judge the alley mouth on the way back to facing front. He's more or less prepared to be jumped at any moment, but really hoping he won't be, as much as chronic pessimism will allow. Still, anyone looking to touch him can expect his response to involve a fist.

(What a thoughtful lurker, waiting for him so patiently. He will be sure to thank it personally when they meet.)
Edited 2011-08-18 02:36 (UTC)

Page 35 of 47