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

[pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com]

There seem to be a few hero-types about; she tends to be in the grey areas more than anything, though when she uses that smile to full effect, the dazzle might make you think she's good. Maybe.

A slight wrinkling of the nose at the mention of a brawl, but it blossoms into the beginnings of what might be that smile when she realises it's naught but an ice-breaker, and she replies, "Narcissa Black; how do you do?"

[defenestration]

Not too long from now, there'll be a few people who will put Adrian solidly into the villain category, but they don't know it just yet. And he certainly doesn't see himself that way. He can, however, appreciate the necessity of using grey areas to one's advantage.

"Very well, thank you. It's a lovely name, Narcissa." You would think so, Adrian. "I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that you're a transplant and not a native."

[pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com]

That could bear some watching for the sheer entertainment factor alone.

"Thank you," she smiles, turning her glass slowly in her hands. "My family have some interesting traditions regarding names. Was it that, or my accent that gave me away?"

[defenestration]

Adrian glances at the crowd and smiles. "It was the fact that you're here at a party celebrating the end of what I have to assume is part of the rather bloody pattern of life here in Baedal, despite looking not at all like the kind of person who patronizes a bar like this one."

[pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com]

"Or bars at all, really."

She can't bring herself to dress down, nor will she alter her carriage or bearing; she's never felt the need to blend in, although this place is enough to make her more than a little aware that she doesn't even come close to doing so.

"But a celebration is a celebration, and being alive is rather nice."

[defenestration]

The time in Adrian's life when he made any attempt to blend in was left behind years ago, when he was younger even than Narcissa appears to be. He understands.

"And certainly all the reason we need to celebrate. Have you been in Baedal very long?"

[pridegoesbefore.livejournal.com]

She's long ago learned that her looks are noticeable, though she's yet to fully capitalise on them.

"Not overly so - a couple of months is my estimate. And yourself?"