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

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"Because that is so weird!" He is steered over to the bar, without trouble. "And you could have been wondering why you seem to know who I am and hate me so much instead. See?"

Eddie waits to see what Aimery will order, and sets his mostly-finished drink down at the bar, in favor of whatever that will be. "And I'm bored," he adds, cheerfully.

[goodeintentions]

"Yes, that would be unfortunate. I'm fairly certain I don't hate you, though." It wasn't exactly the opposite, either, but he did get the sense he was very fond of Eddie. At least most of the time he was fond of him. Even if thus far he'd been slightly annoying and seemed tough to handle. Aimery waited to address the boredom until after he'd ordered them another pair of beers like the one had before, then turned to him while the bartender fetched them. "Boredom is also unfortunate. Not having fun at the newspaper?"

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

And if Eddie knew that was what Aimery was thinking, he would be much less happy with the whole situation. He is pretty sure he's finally had some good luck here, and luck is the big thing intelligence can't help with. Much.

"Fairly certain. I should avoid making you angry, then? Haha..."

He's quiet while Aimery orders the new beers. "It's fun, sure. It's a long story. The short and totally unimpressive version would be that I get bored easily and am supposed to still be getting help from my doctor with that whole thing. The long version is much better, but not party conversation."

[goodeintentions]

"Still getting help from your doctor? Are you still ill?" he asked, lips frowning in concern. Eddie seemed healthy enough, and he definitely understood how easy it could be to get bored while in a hospital or restricted due to illness. Still, it didn't quite match up, his being sick. The beers arrived before he could ask further, and he settled for lifting his to his lips and having a sip and letting Eddie elaborate- or not elaborate, as the case may be.

[edsidlemirth.livejournal.com]

"Physically? No. I'm recovered, thanks for your concern. It's a..." He waves his hand in a circular motion, searching for the best words. There's a right way to phrase this. "Psychological issue. The thing is, what I understand to be behavior not in my best interests also happens to be boring. The point, though, isn't keeping myself entertained, but keeping myself out of legal trouble."

He takes his beer and is glad for the excuse to pause in this explanation. It will give Aimery a chance to react, and that might even trigger some memory of how he was, elsewhere. Though, it occurs to him that this elsewhere self might not be anything like him at all. That would be interesting.