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

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

A party - sure, why not. Remy isn't quite the Southern frat boy he tends to come off, but getting out and scoping out folks post-disaster can't hurt. Besides, he and Wanda are aiming for 'something akin to normal' and going to neighborhood parties is totally normal, right? So it's a neighborhood party being hosted by some anonymous magic flyer in honor of not being decimated by hideous spore creatures. Close enough.

And thus he is here, alongside a lovely lady, looking easy-going and interested, and probably just making a polite pause before hitting the bar.

[hexing]

Wanda is dressed casually in low-heeled boots, jeans and a sleeveless (and admittedly rather low-cut, but that's just...her) top; she's not usually a bar-crawling type, or hasn't been since her twenties, but she'd like to get out and see people. Furthermore, some new arrivals have piqued her interest, and she knows Remy wants to see what's going on, too.

She leans in to speak into Remy's ear, because a) it's loud in there and b) she can.

"We appear to have excellent timing." Because this is definitely turning into quite the party.

(Also, if the boys show up, they're getting Chaperoned. Sorry, kids, it's a bar and you are teenagers and your mom is old-fashioned.)

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Remy is dressed as he always is. Either his white jacket was burned or lost to the ages; truly a tragic loss.

"We're just that lucky, cher." Shut up, Gambit. He slides one arm around her middle, casual, and doesn't bother surveying the room, because he already did when the door opened. (A few people have caught his eye. Maybe later.) "Drink?" He thumbs in the general direction of the bar tender - yes, he will get his lovely girlfriend whatever she likes... okay, he will get her a beer or a well drink, he doesn't expect much more from this joint.

[hexing]

She considers the inquiry, assessing the likelihood of finding anything too exotic--slim to none--and inclines her head. "Rum and coke? I'll find us a place to sit."

There aren't many available tables, but by God, one of them will be theirs. Lady on a mission, right here.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

He grins and gives her a lazy little salute before sidling off to get drinks - her cocktail, a whiskey and coke for himself, and a couple bottles of beer. By the time he gets back through the crowd to look for Wanda, she has presumably found somewhere to sit, and he joins her, setting everything down and sliding her glass over to her before taking his own seat.

"Place is bumpin'," he observes, and then holds out his own glass for a private toast. "Nice to see, no?"

[hexing]

"Well, it's no Mardi Gras--thank you," she teases and expresses her appreciation for the drink simultaneously, "but it's heartening, especially considering everything that just happened. And it seems to have drawn out an awfully broad swathe of individuals."

Like Mr. Xavier, over yonder.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

"Everybody likes a party." Which is categorically untrue, but in this environment, even people who don't - well, they've got to be curious, right? So he's not surprised at the turnout. He raises his glass to hers with a smile that's more private than anything (well, private for her and him, anyway), and takes a drink.

"Yeah?" Remy leans, back against the wall instead of the booth, observing the mingling crowd. "Somebody smarter'n me aught to take notes on all the different worlds, no?"

[hexing]

"I'll find us someone to make the both of us pie charts," Wanda declares, after clinking their glasses together. "Of everything this city could have given us, I don't think I expected an iteration of Charles Xavier that's possibly a decade my junior."

Look, it's weird. And after all the weird things they've been through, that's saying something.

"I'm a little glad not to see the kids here, though. I was wondering if they'd turn up..."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

"S'just weird, he's eternally like Somebody's Dad in my head, you know?" He's sure she knows. It's Charles Fucking Xavier. Even Gambit, with all he's done, will always be a little cowed by the other man - not that he'd really admit it to somebody fresh off the super hero bus, or whatever, no matter who he's an alternate of.

"Well.." he shrugs, trying to look sheepish and not amused. "If they're old enough to save the world..." ... They're old enough to drink?

[warped-inside.livejournal.com]

Tosh hasn't been in Baedal long, but long enough that she's managed to mostly convince herself that she's unlikely to see any more familiar faces. Which is why she walks right on past Remy and has to do an actual double-take.

Eyes wide, she turns around and approaches him hesitantly. As they say, once burned, twice shy. "I'm sorry, this sounds strange I know, but you look familiar to me."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Contrary to his social nature, Remy has been staying off the network since his return from the mission - it's important to him to pay attention to Wanda, and the kids (who are huge, what the hell, time); sometimes it alarms him how important it's become. So when he turns his head and sees Tosh, he's genuinely surprised, eyebrows shooting up.

"...Toshiko?" He's already grinning. If he looks familiar..

[warped-inside.livejournal.com]

That's the best kind of answer she could have hoped for, and Tosh's face lights up with a huge grin. "Remy! I can't believe you actually remember me! The only other familiar face I've seen here who does is Dawn. Seems like everyone else is...not the same, you know?"

She really, really wants to hug him, but things change and it's been a while since she's seen him, so she has no idea how long it's been for him. "I can't believe you're here."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Soon - very soon, actually, and in fact before she is even finished speaking - Remy is moving forward in an enthusiastic bound to scoop up the smaller woman and spin her around. "TOSH! GIRL WHERE YOU BEEN?" His booming voice is still distinct even in the din of the bar, and he's still grinning and laughing when he sets her down, though he keeps one arm around her shoulders. "I can't believe YOU'RE here, what the hell," he goes on. "You okay? By yourself? Just the fille means nobody I gotta punch, right?" Like Jacks of Various Identities?

... Yes, this is the first thing he's bringing up, complementary muscle. Whatever.

[warped-inside.livejournal.com]

Well that decides it, Tosh is glad to squeeze her arms around his neck and be twirled. She leans a little into that arm over her shoulders, too, grinning so hard it almost hurts.

"Single when I left and single when I arrived, if that's what you mean," she laughs. "I've run into a few people I know, it's been...a little odd in a couple of cases. Dawn's living with me for the moment but she's doing her own thing, and we've a guest on the couch, but mostly it's just me. Was that Wanda I saw?"

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

It's weird, but right - universe number three for these two; Tosh is one of His People now, and he's comfortable holding her close and feels all the relief in the world knowing she's all right. He'd rather her be at home, but if they're going to be stuck in some new stupid dimension together, it's good they're in the same one.

"Good, good. Glad you doin' okay." He looks over his shoulder to scope out where his girlfriend is, then- "Sure was! She's.. doin' her thing, over yonder. It's us and her kids." ... Yep.

[warped-inside.livejournal.com]

Home hasn't been an option for Tosh for a long time now, so she'll take a place to live that's relatively familiar in design and offers interesting work. Although the presence of old friends brings a sense of relief she didn't realize she was in need of until now.

"You know me, give me some computers or machinery to fiddle with and I'm good." She turns her head to find Wanda in the crowd, and then looks back at Remy with a warm smile. "Yeah? Kids, huh? Good. I'm really glad you two are still together, and happy."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

"Kids, meanin' progeny, anyway, they're like-" he gestures, helpfully- "Huge. Totally nuts." It's so domestic, but it's really not; nothing will ever be truly domestic or normal for people like them. He likes the strange attempts they make, though. It feels like somebody gives a damn.

"Let's sit down for a bit, no? Tell me what you been up to."

[rhinemaid]

"Remy!" It's that same slightly too loud voice, but- hey, in a bar full of people, loud is better for everyone else trying to hear her. She collides with him smelling of alcohol, cigarette smoke and perfume, but it's not a stumble and she proves as much when she throws her arms around him before releasing him just as quickly. "You aren't dead, I'm glad."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

"Ilde!" (His accent still doesn't quite get her name right, he says the e funny- ) Remy snags her around the middle with one arm as she torpedos into him, practically a dancer's spin, easily detangling when she does. "Me too, fancy that, no? You look like you made it out too, fille."

[rhinemaid]

"The bruises are healing," she says, lightly, touching her throat where they're hidden; she's not going to bring up the nightmares in a hurry, doing her best at the moment to manage them with that most effective method of repress, repress, repress. "We got what we went for, anyway. Did you?"

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

It's not like he's a great therapist, anyway. (And thank hell he's not out to try.)

"They do that, it's the nice side of bruises," he tells her, in what surely amounts to sage advice from a not-really-drunk Cajun lunatic. "Got the job done, so good enough, no?"

[rhinemaid]

"Good enough," she agrees, only not rocking forward on her toes because it's a bit more precarious a proposition when combined with the drinking and those shoes. "What were you going for?"

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Ladies and their shoes. (He'll never understand; in his professional male opinion, everyone's ass looks just as hot in flats.)

"A lantern." His flat tone says he thinks it should have been less of a pain in the ass, really.

[rhinemaid]

Look at how small she is and look at all the tall damned people she spends her time with, Remy, it's not that complicated. (Well, all right, it's not just that...)

"With Arthur," she realizes, holding her hand up for a series of gestures apparently intended to convey 'small', 'square head', 'super serious, I'm not a hypocrite for pointing that out'. "I startled him. He likes my shoes." ...two separate thoughts.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

"He is a tiny, angry man," Remy says, agreeing with her hand gestures. "Good to hear he's got a pulse somewhere."