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

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

Even though Asbjørn had had to put a small dent in the pocket money given to him by the city (he got pretty lucky (http://www.polyvore.com/lets_consider_change_scenery/set?id=35374935) with his thrift finds, all things considered), this day was ending with at least one beer. Surviving was a celebration he could definitely get behind, although fuck this place was packed.

While he's picked up on the fact that this city is supernatural and has its fair share of similarly inclined inhabitants, it never quite dawned on him how much until he was here, in this crowded place. Instead of cutting across the room, he moves around it, watchful. This is all interesting and new.

Although, once he gets to the bar, people move because he has that vibe that you should, even if it's one he can't control. He orders a beer and waits patiently.

[rhinemaid]

The unintentional warning that Asbjørn gives off is what gets Ilde's attention initially - it tastes like ice in the air, feels like standing beside something much bigger than his frame - and because she's Ilde, makes her mind up to investigate. In other words, she doesn't move, peering up at him with unabashed and slightly inebriated curiosity.

"Hello."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

He gets his own feelings about the woman in front of him -not as specific as Ilde, unfortunately, but a feeling nonetheless- and even in the smoky heat of the bar, she smells of river water under her perfume. He smiles, suddenly curious. "Hi."

[rhinemaid]

"I'm Ilde. You're large." Larger than he looks, even, which is what's interesting- she's also very frank, sometimes, though usually more selectively. ...when she's more sober. Alcohol tends to hit her hard and fast, and while she's been pacing herself, she's kept steadily tipsy since about five minutes after arriving.

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

There's a low sounding chuckle before he replies with, "Asbjørn. And I am." Are you thinking the same thing he's thinking, Pinkie? Probably. "I'm also very new."

[rhinemaid]

"Then you're in my cohort." Which not everyone here is, tonight- it's interesting, seeing them gathering together like this. Everywhere, people cluster with their own, for whatever creative definition of 'their own' is going standard at the moment. "...welcome, I guess," in a more wry sort of a way, aware of the bizarre nature of the circumstance.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

While Njoki is open about her talents regarding hoodoo and fleshcrafting, she still likes to keep quiet about being a shifter. In her opinion, when things go to shit -- as they inevitably will -- witches are a lot lower on the list of horrors than giant, shaggy hyena monsters.

Once Pickman has gone clippity clopping off to dance (or whatever that flailing is called), Njoki wanders through the crowd, getting a feel for who and what is in the room. She's comfortable with vampires, but unused to the presence of other large predators and Asbjørn's presence is more a curiosity than a threat. Maybe it's time to head up to the bar and snag a beer of her own?

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

Asbjørn would definitely agree with that sentiment, had it been voiced.

It's when Njoki is in closer proximity that he really gets a sense of 'hello, there's someone else like you here' (there are a lot of interesting people in this bar, and he's not used to dealing with so many of them under one roof). He sits up a little straighter and looks around casually. Ah, there. His eyes flicker over her, and if she sees him, he nods to let on to her. No point in being shy about these sorts of things.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

Njoki cocks her head to one side and there's a moment where she looks about to speak, but merely breathes in, doesn't seem satisfied with whatever knowledge she's gained from that exercise, and then comes over to the bar.

"Allô." She's dressed in an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt that shows off both her body type and her scarification. "I'm Ki."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

As she walks, he looks her over, smelling (although not obviously snuffling) and wondering. Canine? No. Huh.

"Asbjørn, hei." Although he's paying more attention to her body language than her words; his own is rather laid back, or as laid back as he gets, anyway.

[aldabeyoun.livejournal.com]

"S'gorgeous work you've got," she says, referring to his tattoos. "You get it here or at home?"

Njoki is confident, but a bit wary, and reasons that body modification is a good, safe topic. Her own t-shirt has sleeves short enough to show off scarification that starts just below her elbows and travels up under her sleeves.

/sob ty

[vampiringly.livejournal.com]

Most people might move, but there's one vampire dressed (http://www.modcloth.com/Modcloth/Womens/Dresses/-Chiroptera-Cutie-Dress) well who won't avoid someone completely. Isobel is hanging out by the bar, just watching, and though she gets the sense that this guy is one to beware, she won't pick up and leave just yet. She's far enough away that she can still preserve herself should something happen, but close enough that she can offer a smile in his direction.

"It's popular here tonight," she comments casually, holding up her own glass of wine.

no problem :3

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

It's a slight mindfuck for him because he just met Ilde, and here is someone who looks incredibly similar. It's a good thing he has other senses to make up for where his sight fails him. It may be crowded in the bar but Isobel is close enough that he can smell the difference. How very, very different.

There is a scattering of vampires in most of the Nordic countries (the cities aren't too big, after all, and the people more spread out) but Copenhagen has a sizeable undead community. He prefers to judge people on a case by case basis than write off a group and he regards Isobel carefully, not showing any change in body language other than being very calm and still.

"Seems so." Then after a pause, "I hear there's cause for celebration."

[vampiringly.livejournal.com]

Isobel's presence is a mindblow to just about everyone and she's starting to take pleasure in it. If she could get away with impersonating the other woman, she might be tempted to try it. But as it is, she's not Katherine and Ilde isn't Elena. There's no point in even thinking about it.

"So I've heard," she answers lightly, taking a sip of her drink. "Some invasion that I wasn't here to see."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"You're new?" By now he's figured that people don't exactly leave whenever they want to, but you never know. At least they share one thing in common, and he concedes to this fact with a casual little shrug and responding, "I was brought here today."

[vampiringly.livejournal.com]

Isobel nods once in return, offering a slight smile in return. "I've only managed a few days here, myself. They seem to bring us in groups."

And she vaguely wonders why, pushing that question to the back of her list of things she'd really like to know.

"What brings someone like you to a party like this?"

She's mostly just trying to get to know the populace, see what everyone's like and how much value they'll have to her.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

At least one -- very large, very red -- person has apparently failed to notice the vibe, as Hellboy sidles up to the bar. He puts his empty glass down, and when the bartender shows up, orders another water. When he gets another dirty look, he says with some exasperation, "...What? Okay, fine, get me a... I don't know, a virgin piña colada. I'm serious, though, no booze in that."

Whether it was the pointing with the big stone hand or that he finally ordered something that cost money, he apparently finally satisfied the barkeep, who nods and goes to make his drink. Hellboy shakes his head while his more normal left hand digs in one of his belt pouches for the coins to pay with. "Geez."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

Holy shit. But it's not necessarily a bad internal blasphemy. Asbjørn looks at the latest person to wander up to the bar with a silent look of wonder. I mean for god's sake, the guy is big, red and giving his supernatural instincts a punch to the gut. And to top it all off, he ordered a cocktail while extremely American.

He can't help but grin to himself, but bites his lip to stop it from showing. Then shrugs, and engages in conversation in case the guy takes it the wrong way. "I'm a margarita person myself."

[hehaseatenthepancake]

Hellboy looks over, and his face scrunches up a tiny bit as he contemplates that for a moment. "Can you even do a virgin margarita? I dunno. Time was, I'd just order a beer, but I gave up drinking a few months back."

It's right about then that the bartender brings him his drink with a side-order of eye-rolling at his declaration of teetotaler-dom. Hellboy tosses the coin for the drink onto the bar and says, "Count yourself lucky, man. You wouldn't want me drunk in your place."

With the bartender gone, he takes a sip of his drink, then sets it back down and extends his left hand to Asbjørn. "Hellboy."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Asbjørn," he says as he shakes hands. "Where I come from it's about, oh...the equivalent of $15? For a beer in some places. That makes it easier for a lot of people." Cheap booze and dark winters don't lend themselves to good mental health. "A lot of bars get used to serving coffee."

[hehaseatenthepancake]

"Nice to meet you, Asbjørn." Hellboy's had a widely-traveled life, and is familiar enough with enough languages to usually be able to handle most people's names all right. All the same, his accent as he says it is less American-but-educated and more like a long-time native. Something about that seems to spook him too, as he scrunches his eyes shut for a moment.

"The coffee's good for keeping warm, too. It's been a lot of years since I was last up your way, and I was always more concerned with getting the job done and getting out than sticking around to drink."

[pinkmoon.livejournal.com]

Ruby is lightly buzzed, but not really inebriated, when she makes her way over to Asbjørn, beaming. She waves, first, though.

"Hey, you!" There's enough space at the bar, due to his wonderful bear vibe, that she can sneak in next to him. "This place is insane. We picked a good day to get kidnapped."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

He thought he saw the flash of red hair on the dance floor, but this place is ridiculously busy after all.

"Hey," he says, beaming back. "Tell me about it. I'm actually beginning to like this city in spite of myself."

[pinkmoon.livejournal.com]

"I think so, too. I mean...I'm certain this isn't all there is to it, but why not enjoy ourselves?" She knows there's a catch--there always is, after all, but that doesn't mean they shouldn't get acquainted with this place. Its bars included.

She leans her elbows on the bar top, smiling.

"Also, you need to dance with me. If you don't I'll have to accost some stranger and they won't be able to handle me at all and they'll probably fall over."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Definitely." In regards to both enjoyment and catches.

He smiles at her request. There are about two mouthfuls of beer left in his glass at this point, which he gulps down, before swivelling around on his stool to face the crowd and stretching his arm out for her to lead him over. "You say that with faith that I can handle you."