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

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie shows up, in his usual suit, and absolutely no sign of recovering from any injuries, because hiding is good for avoiding that problem. He feels he has just as much right to celebrate his continued survival as people who put their necks on the line. He is, after all, still alive.

He buys a ticket for the raffle, acquires himself a beer to carry around, and proceeds to mingle and chatter with folks. It's an excellent evening already.

[captaincocksure]

"Mr. Nigma." And there's Jim, sketching out a salute with two fingers and a good-natured smile. "It's nice to see you out and about. Glad you survived the ants all right."

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie lifts his free hand to mimic the salute, and grins. He'd wondered what became of the guy. He seemed to have his act together, but with fungus, who knows? "Hello! Likewise! You're not doing to badly in the aftermath, I see. Enjoying yourself?"

[captaincocksure]

"I'm all right, thanks. I didn't get up to all that much after we talked. Got on a horse, fought off some ants while another guy knocked down an ant hive, dragged him out of the rubble, rode away to a temple." He shrugs, like this is no big thing.

"And yeah. It's nice, getting everyone together. Survival's always a good thing to celebrate."

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie laughs. Sounds like an adventure! And he didn't have to go out there and subject himself to it. All the better!

He sips his drink, and cants his head slightly. "Now that it's all settling back to normal... until the next thing, anyway... do you have plans, now?" Eddie suspects what the fellow's just described is business as usual. He'll probably get himself into some interesting trouble or another.

[captaincocksure]

"Plans? Well, my number-one plan is getting back to my ship. I know they tell me that's not possible." He takes a drink of his beer, the unspoken but obvious I don't believe that hanging in the air between them.

"Beyond that, I don't know... Find work and somewhere to live, I guess, in the meantime. So, hey." He smiles. "You said 'until the next thing', like this kind of thing happens a lot here. Does it?"

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"Escape is a very good plan, especially when they say it's impossible. As an added bonus, if you let enough people know that's what you're going for, if you get eaten by something and vanish without a trace, they'll think you succeeded." He does not mean this to be discouraging, but he smirks. "A pattern is establishing itself, yes."

[captaincocksure]

"Yeah, well. It wouldn't be the first time I tried something I was told was either impossible or not the best idea." Jim Kirk apparently doesn't know the meaning of the word discouraging.

"So this has happened before?"

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"I already told you about last time. Or did you forget, in all the excitement?" He keeps his tone and expression pleasant, but takes another drink to keep from becoming less so. It is important to play nice.

[goodeintentions]

Aimery was straight up drunk by the time he spotted Eddie, no stranger to drowning his sorrows.

"Eddie, my friend! How are you this fine evening, hm?" he called as he walked up to him from behind, laying one hand lightly on his nearest shoulder as much to help himself turn to face him without stumbling as to be friendly. It was perhaps a little familiar for a new friend in a new place, but Aimery was past caring and some little part of his memory said Eddie appreciated being showered with attention.

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Oh boy, drunken guy he... knows? From somewhere? Eddie quirks a brow, but he smiles, and is happy to play along, because yes, he will do anything for attention.

"Aimery, hello! I'm doing better, now. And look, you managed to escape after all, hm?"

[goodeintentions]

"I did indeed, and a daring escape it was," he answered in complete seriousness, sliding his hand down Eddie's shoulder then clasping it with his other in front of himself, holding his beer bottle as if a little nervous it would fall away. He clarified, "Someone opened the door."

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie gasps, mock astonished at this oh-so-very-clever escape. He only bothers to hold up the act for a few seconds before he's laughing. "That's great. Welcome to Baedal!" He spreads the fingers of his free hand. Behold! A wonderful city to be stuck in!

He doesn't make any attempt to pull away, and his laughter trails off into a pleasant smile. He recognizes that he's reacting to his man as if he were a friend, and he is also very aware that he cannot place the reason. So, there must be a reason. He makes a note to stay on his guard, in case weird powers are involved, but that's not going to have any effect at all on his demeanor. It's good to have friends, after all. He doesn't spend too much time reflecting on the friends back home, but his thoughts wander to them. He brushes that aside, too.

"And then you found the liquor."

[goodeintentions]

"And then I found the liquor." Grateful that Eddie was playing along, Aimery nodded slowly, as if theirs was a serious, earnest conversation. "It's one of the most important things to do when moving to a new city. Getting drunk right away helps one settle in."

That part was not entirely a joke.

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"Here, it seems to have some benefit." He will also be totally serious, talking quietly. "Though I can't say I'm especially fond of not having my head in order." This is also delivered as a pretend-serious-joke, but he also figures it's a subtle enough lead in that if this guy is messing with his head, or if he knows something Eddie doesn't about why he seems familiar, the subject has at least been broached without drawing too much attention to it, otherwise.

[goodeintentions]

"That requires one to have their head in order in the first place," he said matter-of-factly, then shrugged and lifted his bottle for a drink. It occurred to him that perhaps Eddie might not appreciate Aimery alluding to some possible defect of his mind- might actually take serious offense- so he clarified, "I, for example, have arrived without patches of my memory, so the alcohol can't misplace what's already misplaced."

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie is, in fact, biting back an annoyed retort to that comment, before Aimery catches it and explains.

"That's interesting," he says, a little coldly, but he's calming down again, or at least settling into a decision about how he needs to approach this now, after Aimery's statement. "At least you're aware that they're missing. That's something."

He drinks more of his beer, then continues. "You know, to some extent, who I am, don't you?" There.

[paintfromlife.livejournal.com]

It is an excellent evening, Pickman would agree. He's obviously enjoying his new feet, clip-clipping all about the Apache, poking in every corner and being nosy at people who seem like they deserve it. And oh, look! Now he's wandering over in Eddie's direction.

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

Eddie has, after time spent socializing and drinking, somewhat passed the point of 'buzzed but hiding it well' around after he lost track of Rachel and Aimery. This isn't a situation he often puts himself in, and so he's rather enjoying the dizziness accompanying the silly little social decisions, like whether to go sit down and talk to those nice people, or going up to the bar to talk to these nice people.

He spots Pickman, and stops to turn to fully face him. It does not take him long to notice the feet. He hasn't run into him in person, before now, and so he doesn't know if they're new or not, but they're new to him, and that's what important. "Pickman!" he says, sunnily. "Why do you have goat feet?"

[paintfromlife.livejournal.com]

"'ey -- Eddie?" Yeah, that's his name! Pickman grins and raises a foot up so Eddie can see. "I got a hookup! My roomie set me up. Switched out my mess with 'em. Feels like a million bucks."

Clip-clop!

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"Cool!" He tilts his head. His expression of curiosity is more pronounced than usual, exaggerated by the booze, but no less alert. At least, not at this point. "You were injured, then? Heck, if your feet get all messed up, trading up for hooves isn't a bad way to go." Sure, that makes perfect sense. Sure. He giggles.

[paintfromlife.livejournal.com]

"Nah, nah. Not there. Lost a tooth, though." He sticks his tongue through the hole. "That's just, ah, fuckin' --" He flails a little, reaching for the word. A chirp of frustration. "Genetics? That shit. Ghoulkin, yeah? Been going that way for a while, but when your feet go, they don't go easy."

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"Oh?" Eddie contemplates this for a minute. He is a little thrown off by the missing tooth, which at least fits into the realm of possible and uncomfortable things, as far as most of his life's experience is concerned. That is grosser, somehow. Well, plus the guy does smell terrible, but this is a lesser fault than being stupid, and Pickman's got his act together.

He frowns - it's not displeasure, but taking the time to decide how he feels about all this. His smile is slow to return, in a lazy sort of way. "I get it. You're an average human where I'm from. Though, you-where-I'm-from would approve, I am certain."

[paintfromlife.livejournal.com]

"Yeah? You think?" He frowns a little himself, considering the idea that some poor Pickman somewhere might not be ghoulkin. "How old was he? Might not've hit 'im yet, yeah?"

A shrug. "Either way, I'm the one who's here, so fuck 'im."

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"Younger than you, sure, but this sort of thing... Just doesn't happen where I'm from. I can say that with a fair amount of confidence, with allowance made for all things being possible, even if unlikely."

He takes another drink. "You don't like that?"