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

[bonhomme7h.livejournal.com]

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.

Comments

[gotbottle]

Earlier in the day, she'd pretty much invited the entire cohort to come drink with her. Rachel figures she'd best be prepared.

She arrives not long after the party starts so she can commandeer a prime spot, a stool down at one end of the bar. This is a proper party, her first since she arrived; she's covered the purple remnants of her quest-earned black eye with makeup, as best she can (it's still there, just not OH WOW OBVIOUS) and she's even forsaken her standard jeans and t-shirt for a little black dress.

The place is filling up fast. She keeps an idle eye on the growing crowd, waiting for any familiar faces, as she gets a shot of Jack down her and waits for a beer.

[toooldforlosing]

Raylan seriously considered not coming, but drinking with people was probably healthier than drinking alone, and those were the two likely choices for the evening.

He's easy to spot, even once he takes his hat off; he looks out of place, though not necessarily uncomfortable. He did, at least, bother to conceal his weapon.

He spots Rachel and gives her a nod when she makes eye contact. He doesn't want to presume she's not there with more social friends, but she's probably the closest thing he has to a friend here, now that Tim's gone.

[gotbottle]

He nods, and she smiles, warm and bright, pleased to see him. She tilts her head slightly and waves him over with a look that clearly says why are you even standing all the way over there, come on, which she follows by patting the empty stool beside her.

He's definitely a friend. This is on top of being (to her thinking, anyway) the other half of her questioning-and-poking-at-things efforts by virtue of being one of the first people she met and the one she's talked to the most about them. And they're both alive after all the crap that just went down; surely this is reason to celebrate.

[toooldforlosing]

He comes, then, and settles next to her; he isn't going to decline a lady's invitation, nor does he really want to. "How's the evening treating you?"

[gotbottle]

"Not bad, so far," she replies, smiling. "I haven't been here, like, all that long but it's nice so far. And I think we could all use this, after everything we've been through."

She reaches over, touching his arm, just for a second. "It's good to see you."

[rhinemaid]

"Look at you and your tits." ...that's quite the greeting, Ilde, but in her defense: it's quite a dress, too. If Rachel holds still, she's going to receive the air-kisses of someone who used to be a socialite-in-training and who is presently just tasting the whiskey she's carrying around; if she's careful, she can maintain a good buzz for the rest of the night. "You're still going to dance with me, aren't you?"

[gotbottle]

Rachel does in fact stay still for air-kisses, grinning. "Thank you. They don't get out as much as they need to."

...Okay, so someone else has a good buzz right now.

"And of course I am."

[rhinemaid]

Ilde leans against the bar beside where Rachel's sitting - she'll probably flit off in some other direction soon enough, parties bring out the social butterfly in her - and beams at her, apparently all in favour of airing out the girls. "Good. Réjean mentioned he was throwing this- I think he should dance, too."

[gotbottle]

"Réjean," Rachel repeats, careful with the pronunciation. She takes a moment to sip from her drink and then she turns to Ilde with the most important of questions.

"Who is he, and is he good-looking?"

[paintfromlife.livejournal.com]

Not a really familiar face, but that one kinda greasy guy from the network, the one who had been talking about his feet, is there. And... yeah, new feet. Hooves! Go figure.

He gives Rachel a cheerful wave, from a decent distance away.

[gotbottle]

The face is familiar enough! Rachel returns the wave, a greeting at first, which then sort of shifts into a beckoning. There's an empty stool beside her and she did invite people to come have a drink with her, did she not?

[paintfromlife.livejournal.com]

Wait, seriously? An invitation? He's briefly, obviously surprised, then shrugs, and grins wide and yellow (one front tooth missing), and trots over. He has a strong, distinctive funk, rather like meat that's gone off (though it's not as bad as it used to be, with the new feet and all).

"'ey."

[gotbottle]

"Hi! You made it, feet and all!"

There's a smell, yeah, but this is a bar, that's to be expected. Besides, another drink and she won't even notice.

"I don't think I introduced myself properly when we were talking earlier. I'm Rachel."

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Next up on the hoof parade, Hellboy swings by the bar to drop off his empty glass and get a new one. While he waits for the barkeep to show up, he looks over and spots Rachel.

"Oh, hey. How it going?"

He's still bandaged, under the coat, but less so, and his burns are almost entirely gone.

[gotbottle]

"Hellboy! Hi!"

And yes, that is totally an appraising gaze sweeping over you, sir. She notes that he appears to be in better condition than when last they talked; satisfied, she offers him a smile.

"Not bad, thanks. Glad to see you here, how are you?"

[hehaseatenthepancake]

"Almost back to normal." He quickly looks her over as well, although it may be a bit less obvious with his solid orange eyes. His eyesight isn't outright superhuman, but it's a bit better than average, and he picks out the mostly-hidden black eye with a click of his tongue. "I hope you paid the shadow back for that."

When the bartender shows up, Hellboy says, "Just water for me, thanks," then shrugs at the dirty face he gets in return. He looks over at Rachel. "You?"

[gotbottle]

Her hand goes to her cheek unconsciously. "I did," she assures him, leaving out the part where she fought a shadow with a shadow because she's still trying, with the people outside her team, to maintain that whole I'm just as normal as everyone else, what are you talking about identity.

"A beer, please. Thank you." The bartender turns away and Rachel shoots an equally dirty look at his retreating back--it's none of his business if a big red guy wants a damn glass of water and not some booze, God.

"It's nice to see everyone celebrating. I think we could use it after all the crap lately."

[patricide]

Lex with his martini and pink shirt looks like quite the contrast with Rachel's beer and black dress, but that doesn't stop him from saying hello to his friend. He slides into the bar stool next to her and belatedly turns to her and smiles as if suddenly remembering something.

"Excuse me, miss, but is someone sitting here?"

[gotbottle]

Rachel turns at the sound of his voice, breaking into a bright, pleased smile when she realizes who it is.

"Yeah. You are," she declares, reaching over and putting a hand on his arm. "Hi, Lex. It's good to see you."

[patricide]

He covers her hand with his, returning the smile. Lex doesn't often go out of his way for physical contact so this is kind of a Big Deal. Rachel is officially in the circle of trust, or at least as far as he can trust anybody.

"It's good to see you too. And before you have the chance to beat me to it, I have to insist that your next drink is on me."

[gotbottle]

That delights her--she's a tactile person, given to physical affection and comfort, so someone else's touch is wonderful.

"Okay," she agrees, "but I'm totally calling dibs on the round after that one. So, how are you? How's your house coming along?"

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

After he's been at the party for a little while, having a grand evening mostly hanging around Aimery or merrily chatting with strangers, Eddie spots Rachel. Of course, he is happy to go say hello.

"Rachel! Cheers!" He is a little buzzed, at this point, but doing his darnedest to hide it. It's not like he isn't full of smiles when he's sober, anyway.

[gotbottle]

It's funny how similar things can be; she, too, is a bit buzzed but also not that different when she's sober, so who would know?

"Eddie! Hi!" And there's a bright smile. "It's good to see you! Are you having a good time?"

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"I am!" Eddie crosses the rest of the distance to stand nearby, and lifts his bottle in greeting. He did say cheers, after all. "Are you? I bet you are." She's happy and has a lot of friends. That makes it a pretty safe bet, as far as he's concerned.

"The cohort should do more together, really. Getting a feel for the group dynamic is a great excuse to dress up and spend an evening out."

[gotbottle]

"I am!" She is, too, grinning, happy, more at ease than she's been for a while (and no, it's not just the alcohol).

"And I agree. We need more things we enjoy doing instead of just the things we have to do, like working and stuff, and are forced to do, like dealing with giant ants and other things like that. Also we need to just meet each other more. There are so many faces here I don't recognize."