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

[rhinemaid]

Ilde shrugs. "Talk to fogtraders for that. I found my hat out there." The cowboy hat she'd been wearing when they last spoke- there's a great deal else, out there, but she's been a little preoccupied the times she's been into the fog.

[defenestration]

Adrian isn't terribly interested in hats (they cover up his lovely hair, you know), but he imagines if there's money to be made on it, then there's more than just random articles of clothing to be found. "I'll do that, thank you."

He tilts his head toward the bar. "Will you let me buy you a drink to celebrate your return?"

[rhinemaid]

"I only let nice gentlemen buy me drinks, but I'll make an exception for you, Mr Veidt, since you're so pleased to see me." Her idea of being friendly toward men has always involved a great deal of cheerful mockery; she's of the considered opinion that it's good for them.

(Until quite recently, it would've been fair to say she didn't know any nice gentlemen. Boromir breaks the curve, it's sickening.)

"A brandy alexander," she adds, looking back toward the bar to gauge how long it's going to take the bartender to get to them.

[defenestration]

Adrian doesn't take offense at the teasing, he's gotten used to Ilde's manner, and even if he had felt offended, he knows how to keep it to himself. Offenses are best dealt with subtly, and after one has had a chance to determine the proper caliber of revenge.

He orders the drink she asks for, and a refill on his own scotch. "I feel as though I've been rather left out, Mr. Luthor has been monopolizing all of your time. Now that things are quiet again for now, and you're almost finished with your work for us, what do you plan to do with your time?"

[rhinemaid]

"I've been picking up music students," she says, shrugging once and leaning against the bar as they wait for their drinks. Music teaching is both flexible, profitable, and relatively stable work - in other words, ideal for her lifestyle in this city and in general ideal for her temperament. Presumably Adrian can't imagine her in a nine to five any better than she can. "I offer piano, violin and cello mostly, but I think I could handle any instrument."

It's matter of fact, not a boast; music is a powerful intrinsic gift, and it isn't really fair to compare most musicians to the enchanting Nix. Her students, of course, already have the advantage - that enchantment carries into her teaching, and the adept skill she can teach could play fairies down out of the woods to hear it.

She can also lure listeners to death by drowning with the power of her singing voice, but let's not go into that.