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multiversallogs2011-08-08 08:05 pm
bonhomme7h.livejournal.com) wrote in multiversallogs2011-08-08 08:05 pm
Entry tags:
- @ mog hill,
- @ mog hill: apache,
- anna demirovna,
- ava lockhart,
- charles xavier,
- hellboy,
- ilde decima,
- ivan,
- jack benjamin,
- james t. kirk,
- jones,
- npc,
- rachel conway,
- raylan givens,
- solomon koenig,
- sonja garin,
- { boromir,
- } adrian veidt,
- } aimery le gode,
- } alan shore,
- } arthur,
- } asbjørn strand,
- } brie cormac,
- } cindy,
- } edward nigma,
- } isobel saltzman,
- } jack harkness,
- } lex luthor,
- } mabel albans,
- } narcissa black,
- } njoki rainmaker,
- } pickman,
- } remy lebeau,
- } rochelle,
- } ruby van alst,
- } réjean sept-heure,
- } sebastian lemat,
- } toshiko sato,
- } wanda maximoff
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.
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.
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"Did you lose a bet?" His clothing. She's just being friendly, Boromir, you love it.
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"Chainmail is bad for broken ribs." Apparently. And light alcoholic drinks aren't something you should give to children, the things he's learning. "Besides, you don't take a sword to a party, just a dagger or two."
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"Come now, I need your help," he says, leaning against the bar and pointing to the bottles behind it. "The healer told me I can't drink any ale, wine, or other such thing while I take his painkillers. What are you supposed to have, then?"
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Boosting herself up onto a barstool, she signals the bartender and orders him a soda, playing with the straw that Réjean had acquired for her earlier. "If we were in a different bar, I would've got you a virgin daiquiri," she informs him.
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"That is the strangest name for a drink I've ever heard in my life." And speaking of strange drinks, his soda arrives pretty quickly (the bubbling is odd, although he's gotten used to it).
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Underneath it all he's a little sad he's not there to enjoy it, even though he realises that's not a possibility any more. But knowing is the next best thing. He feels more at peace.
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...less than pleased.
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With Ilde, you can change the conversation. "It's been an odd sort of week." (Understatement). It's got the added implication of let's not talk about it, then.
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But tonight is good, she's already decided, so she adds, "Who took you shopping? Look at you."
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...a pause follows. Ilde studies him, evidently looking for flaws.
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