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

[defenestration]

"Reminds me of home," Adrian replies, amused honesty in his voice. No one here knows him, and that still rankled, but at least they're looking at him, which is something.

He gives an unconscious flip of his hair and looks around the room for a moment, a half-smile on his face, then turns to Jack. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Benjamin. And to see that you seem none the worse for wear, considering recent events."

[mightyfallen]

"Mn," he agrees to the first. "That's why I don't." But he can tolerate a little unwanted attention for sake of good company, even if it's the company that makes him not want the attention.

"As for my health, you have my assistant to thank for that – he had the good sense to lock me in an office." And not to take him to the nearest temple, or Jack would have been substantially less pleased when he came back to sanity. (He has this thing about false gods.) "And yourself?"

[defenestration]

"You don't enjoy the spotlight?" It's contrary to Adrian's opinions about publicity, but he understands that a lot of people would prefer to go unnoticed. Although it surprises him a bit that Jack feels that way.

"You gave him a bonus, I hope. I really need to hire myself an assistant. Things are going well, and I have more important uses to put my time to than scheduling appointments and fetching dry cleaning." He makes a small, noncommittal gesture with his drink. "I chose to leave the adventuring to others, and concentrate on making sure my investment did get burned to the ground."

[mightyfallen]

Jack makes an equivocal noise. "I enjoy being able to turn it off." He does, in fact, like being the center of attention when he chooses, but so rarely in his life has it been a choice.

"Well, I'm glad you and your property are in one piece." He may send Adrian the names of a few decent assistants later (he's noticed a few who are too good for their current employers), but the subject of celebrity interests him, and he's inebriated enough to follow his conversational whims.

"You weren't famous when you were young, were you?" he asks, settling a hip against whatever wall or what-have-you happens to be nearest.

[defenestration]

Adrian supposes he can understand that. When he needs to escape from the spotlight, he just flies out to Antarctica, but most people don't have that luxury.

At Jack's question, Adrian's demeanor grows rather still for a moment. His smile doesn't falter, but someone who was good at reading people or who knew him very well might notice that it seems somehow a little less genuine. "No. My parents were...they preferred their anonymity. I take it that isn't the case for you?"

[mightyfallen]

Jack is better at reading people when he's sober, but he knows that certain change in a smile. He doesn't know what it means in this instance, but he notes it and proceeds with slightly more sensitivity.

"Mine were King and Queen of the Royal Kingdom of Gilboa." He gives an eyeroll. "I know, you don't know it – some call it Israel here, but that doesn't matter, the point is I've been in the spotlight since I drew my first breath." A beat, then more genuinely, he adds, "It warps the soul, to have so much attention."

[defenestration]

That's an interesting and unexpected answer, and Adrian immediately reevaluates everything he knows and has assumed about Jack Benjamin. Part of his remark strikes something in Adrian, and he raises his glass for a drink, murmuring almost under his breath, "It warps the soul to have none at all as well."

But when he lowers the glass, he's still smiling and cordial. "I've heard of Gilboa, but you're right -- where I come from, it's just a range of mountains, not a kingdom. That's intriguing. I'd like to hear more about it sometime. I have a particular interest in Middle Eastern history."

[mightyfallen]

That comment, small as it is, catches on Jack's heartstrings a bit. If he were in better control of his facilities, you wouldn't know it had any effect at all, but his stare lingers a little longer and for a moment his eyes are a little gentler and he doesn't quite have the presence of mind to hide it as he otherwise might. He nods once, conceding the point, and he lets it be.

"If you know the mountain, you know the area." Which seems to both charm and unnerve him. Few people even recognize the name, but the ones that do sometimes know more of his kingdom than they think. In an anti-monotheistic political climate, that knowledge is dangerous for him to let spread, but at the same time it runs against his every instinct to muffle pride in his kingdom.

"I'm afraid my thoughts on the subject might be more confusing than interesting." A half-sheepish smile. "The history I know tends to be some thousands of years removed from anything I find here." It's said carefully, with a certain curious weight. He can manage caution if not silence.

[defenestration]

"If that's a deal-breaker for the people you're telling your story to, then they're not truly interested in history," Adrian remarks wryly, watching Jack's face. The man is more open tonight than he was over dinner, and Adrian suspects that if he plays things properly, he'll find out a lot more than Jack might realize he's revealing.

"I've done an extensive study of the history of the Mediterranean region, most closely focused on Macedonia and Egypt, but not to the exclusion of everything else. Try me sometime, I think you'll find I understand at least enough to follow along."

[mightyfallen]

"Egypt." Jack gives a faux wince. "That's– I know it as Mizraim, but it's all pyramids and things, right? I can't say I'm a fan." It's said affectionately, though, not taking any personal offense at Adrian's tastes. He's having too good a night to take personal offense at anything.

"I don't know the other." Idle, now that the conversation has taken a step away from his biblical origins, he swirls his drink in his glass. "Why those two?"

[defenestration]

Adrian raises his eyebrows in amused mock-offense at the way Jack says the word 'Egypt', bowing his head and grinning slightly in silent laughter at the question. "It's not only pyramids but yes, they are certainly some of the great accomplishments of that civilization. The Macedonia I refer to, also called Macedon, was an ancient kingdom that at its height stretched from Greece to the Himalayas, from the Danube to the Nile and from the Mediterranean Sea to the Indian Ocean. Under Alexander the Great, it was at one time the most powerful empire in the world. And although the ancient Egyptian kingdom certainly had more than one moment of glory, it reached its pinnacle under the rule of Ramesses II, one of the most successful leaders in history."

It's more than obvious from the restrained passion in his voice, and the brightness in his eyes, that this is more than just a mere interest in ancient history.

[mightyfallen]

"Funny, to think of an empire that size and I've never even heard the name." He understands the span of it simply from haven taken the time to compare a few Earth maps to what he knows, but the details, and certainly Alexander himself, are beyond his realm of experience. (In this life, anyway.) He shakes his head and downs the rest of his whiskey.

"Ramesses II is why I'm not a fan, by the way. He was successful, certainly, but he had this unfortunate habit of enslaving my ancestors to get there." Jack shrugs, like Oh, slavery, no big deal – there is a little edge to his words, but it was several hundred years ago for him, and mostly he is just incapable of taking anything too seriously right now. Adrian's quiet enthusiasm for the subject has him a little charmed. "Now that Gilboa is nipping at their GDP, though, Pasibkhanu has gotten very good at forgetting that detail. When we pass them up, I don't suppose I can sell you on the virtues of King Silas?"

'Virtues.' He doesn't quite make air quotes, but it's tempting, alright.

[defenestration]

"It seems we're from very different worlds." It's intriguing, how similar in style and yet different in history their homes seem to be.

Adrian nods at Jack's response to the pharaoh, offering him a small, apologetic smile that seems to carry a hint of more personal regret than one might expect, just for a moment. "A disastrous flaw that I would hope anyone attempting to emulate him would take great caution in rectifying. Like Alexander's passion for war. I think a great leader should be able to capable of appreciating the scope of a predecessor's vision while improving on his methods." A great leader such as Adrian Veidt would like to be, one day.

His expression grows a little more intimate as he raises his own glass, eying Jack over the rim. "I'd be interested in your efforts to sell me on all the virtues Gilboa has to offer, Mr. Benjamin."

[mightyfallen]

He shouldn't be staring. He knows that, intellectually, in the same distant part of his mind that is still occupied with thoughts of history and leadership strategy once Adrian raises his glass, and it would be a lie to say those very ruminations aren't contributing to the fact that he is holding the other man's gaze a bit too long. To the casual observer, it would be nothing, maybe, but to anyone attuned to the language of lingering glances, it's not the kind of look he ought to risk in public. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) Jack is not in spectacular control of his facilities right now.

"Maybe when you're done in the spotlight." He inclines his head faux-dramatically. Then, tapping his empty glass, "And when I'm properly soused. Can I get you another?"

[defenestration]

Unfortunately (fortunately?) for Jack, Adrian is very well versed in that language, and his lips curl upward into the slightest of smiles as he holds the man's gaze for as long as he's able.

At the offer of a refill, he holds out his glass but pauses halfway there, so that Jack will have to come into his personal space to take it. "I think that depends on how many more will be required to get you properly soused," he answers softly, low enough that his words are almost drowned out by the music and the crowd.

[mightyfallen]

It's hardly a step closer, but he hesitates, briefly and futilely, pulling his lip between his teeth for a moment, but that doesn't stifle the slow curve of a smile on his face as he halves the distance between them, reaching for the glass but not yet pulling it away. He could just step back again. He should. Instead, he lets the motion of that step carry him in to lean nearer to Adrian's ear.

"You know, I don't think they offer anything strong enough here."

'Here' being the operative word. (This is a bad idea, he knows this is a bad idea.)

[defenestration]

Adrian's smile doesn't change when Jack gives in and steps closer, but something in his eyes does, a glint of smug confidence that hints at being used to getting everything he wants.

Without moving more than the slightest turn of his head, he replies in similar fashion. "And where might you suggest we could find something stronger?" He's willing to take Jack back to his place, but he's equally willing to go elsewhere if that's the other man's preference. Adrian finds it doubtful that wherever Jack chooses would be less than suiting to his tastes.

[mightyfallen]

"I know a place." He has a place, more accurately, and it's some small evidence of his remaining good sense that he suggests it, versus going to Adrian's or inviting the other man back to his home. "Meet me around back in five." Because even drunk and impatient, he's not going to risk being seen leaving with someone.

He pulls away at that, glass in hand, taking the first two steps backward so as to hold Adrian's gaze a few moments longer before retreating – not especially steadily – back to toward bar.

[defenestration]

Adrian's only reply is a slight incline of his head, but he watches Jack make his way back to the bar and then disappear into the crowd. Then he turns and moves off in another direction, stopping a couple of times to exchange brief words with some of the contacts he's made. When he feels sure he's not being watched by anyone with particular interest, he slips out the door and around to the back of the building.

It takes him precisely five minutes, and he manages it with a great deal more subtlety and stealth than one might expect from a man dressed as Adrian is.

[mightyfallen]

Jack doesn't manage as subtle an exit as he otherwise might. He says a few words to the bartender, he stops to chat with a familiar face, but he's restless, eager to leave, and that shows more than he'd like. Still, he finds his way out without incident.

It would be unfair to say Jack doesn't have self control – he has an abundance of it, he's just also gifted with the kind of intensity that builds empires from ashes through sheer force of will. He isn't made for restraint. Add tonight's lowered inhibitions to that mix, and it's safe to say he's going to have trouble reigning it in until they get where they're going. (He considers, when he sees Adrian, pausing with his teeth teasing the inner edge of his lip, whether he couldn't pull the other man into a dark corner just for a taste– but they'd never leave at that rate.)

A beat, a once-over, then, "It isn't far, I promise." Leading the way in the general direction of Echomire. What he has in mind is a little out-of-the-way place he's started keeping for just these kinds of occasions.