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

[obscuredvision]

Roses. Interesting.

But neither that scent nor his name ping anything inside her head, and she lets herself relax fully from her vigilance. It's exhausting, at times, having to compare so much with what she knows, but necessary. That makes the times when she can stop for a while that much more enjoyable.

"The pleasure is all mine, Sol. Have you been here in the city long?"

[cailisairgid]

"A couple months," which is longer than some, but not nearly as long as others - accordingly, he says it as though her mileage may vary on whether or not he gets to say he's been here long. It sure as hell feels like a long time, but the first week felt like an age, too, for all that he'd hit the ground running. "My daughter and I - I work for Hellsing, so the childcare benefits are pretty good."

[obscuredvision]

"...oh. Your daughter's here as well?" she asks, with that pleasant neutrality people summon when they just have no idea what to really say. If he needs childcare then his daughter isn't an adult; it's a bit terrible, to Ava's thinking, for the city to do that. But perhaps Sol would rather her be here with him than be left behind.

"I've been here about that long myself."

[cailisairgid]

He'd prefer that she were home, safe, in Baltimore - with Cal or the Kims, most likely - but at least here in Baedal he's got resources that they didn't have when trapped in Bete Noire. It might be a small mercy, but he's grateful for it.

Regardless, he tips his beer slightly in an acknowledgement of how fucked up it is to have been brought here with her; his best guess would be that it's a function of the abduction apparently being this city's immigration service (a profoundly fucked up version thereof), but then, the Malfoys are here without their son. It's a crapshoot, seems like.

"It feels like longer, some days," he says, but it's softened slightly by the way he watches the people around them - this kind of celebration is familiar.

[obscuredvision]

"It does," she murmurs in agreement, her voice soft, small, the composure slipping for just the space of those two words. She's a bit weary, honestly, from being here. All the adjusting. All the emergencies. For someone whose life had always been such a set course, coming here has been a huge challenge.

"It's an eventful place, certainly," she goes on, friendly and capable all over again. "I think that adds to the sense of having been here so long. It feels like so much has happened."

[cailisairgid]

"Places like this-" with the authority of experience, even if it was just a couple months in one other, "-tend to pack a lot into a little."

[obscuredvision]

That's more experience than Ava has with places like this. She nods. "I suppose it comes with the territory. I further suppose it was too much to hope one would be abducted to some paradise with no troubles at all."

She settles in, idly watching some of the other celebrants for a moment. "Hellsing--I've heard the name on the network but I don't know much more beyond them being one of the city's guilds, and that they seem to have their heads together in emergencies."

[cailisairgid]

"Thank you," he says, mildly, with a smile. "We try. Yeah, officially we're the guild of Battling Preternatural Horrors. It was formerly defunct, my boss - Sir Integra Hellsing, I knew her in a city a little like this once before - took it over and we're pretty much filling the niche and doing some of our own thing. Social services, investigative work, crisis response." All with a supernatural bent, naturally.

The delicate balance between Integra's philosophy (kill 'em all and let god sort 'em out) and Nuala's approach (peace to prove a point) makes life interesting, but sheer bloody-mindedness is getting them through. They make it work, and even Sol's casual discussion of his work indicates pride in it, in the people he works with.

[obscuredvision]

She's had the impression of capability, of doing good work, already; seeing Sol's pride in it and the ease and respect with which he speaks of his work and the people with whom he does it only bolsters her opinion.

"I was aware of the crisis response, naturally," she tells him, "because of everything that's gone on. But I wasn't aware Hellsing offered other services to the city. I think that's a wonderful thing."

[cailisairgid]

"We're sort of the paramilitary ghostbusters." ...that's the best possible description of Hellsing, thank you. He takes a drink, here, thinking about whether or not he actually needs a cigarette right now. (Probably not.) "Not a government organization, but we get by."

[obscuredvision]

She smiles, faintly, at that description. It is indeed the best--it sums up, for the uninitiated, just what they do.

"I spoke with your... leader, I suppose? Once." There's a momentary hesitation before she decides, look, he works for the place, it isn't as if telling him will surprise him. "About a vision I had before the problems with the ants and the fungus broke out. I was very impressed with her."