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

[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."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

A visitor to his fair shores! Or a version of it, anyway, and it's not like they're really his but you always tend to think that way of home. Still, he looks slightly pleased. "Really? Where were you?"

[hehaseatenthepancake]

He takes a sip of his faux mixed drink. "Hm, let's see, the Scandinavian highlights. I've been to Copenhagen, and Espoo. Stockholm and Oslo a couple times each, although one of the Stockholm cases also took me all the way up into Sámi territory. Bismo was okay, except that it led to a really crappy night up in the Breheimen mountains."

Thinking of some of his cases, he looks down into his glass for a moment, briefly considering getting his drink made non-virgin. His craggy, stone-like features aren't especially expressive, but he's not especially great at keeping his tone quite as light as he might've wanted.

Still, he pulls himself out of it and adds, "I was a paranormal investigator for a lot of years, so I traveled all over the world. One of my regular partners... well, he hated being called this, but for lack of a better term, he was a fish-man. As you may expect, he wasn't a great fan of the cold up your way."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"I come from Finnmark myself, and I have Sámi ancestry -my mother's grandparents. My family aren't reindeer herders, but if you live near Hammerfest they tend to hang around whether you want them to or not." Although he had noted, at sixteen-years-old, that they were much more likely to scatter when he was nearby.

He gives a good natured laugh. "No, it's not to everyone's tastes. I prefer it, personally, but then I used to live on Svalbard for a few years." Also known as Polarbearville, Norwegia.

[hehaseatenthepancake]

"I promised him next time the Bureau tried to send us to Scandinavia, we'd go to Bali instead." Good times.

"So... sorry, I'm not terribly up on the industries up here, but if not reindeer, then what? Fishing? I vaguely recall there being fishing." He's great at defending the world, not so much with living in it.

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Fishing, yes. And farming. My mother has a small holding of her own. A lot of people have a trade or something, or land. Maybe work offshore. Unless they move to the big city, which isn't actually that big." At least not compared to the ones Hellboy has probably seen.