http://bonhomme7h.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] bonhomme7h.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] multiversallogs2011-08-08 08:05 pm

It's like paradise, spread out with a butter knife :: [OPEN]

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.

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-15 01:19 am (UTC)(link)
Well, now he does look kind of twelve with his hair all over the place, thanks Cindy. There's a reason he keeps it slicked back—which he shall now attempt to do again, casually, with one hand. Alas, he doesn't secrete product from his palms and so the damage has been done. It'll never be quite the same again.

He then does indeed revisit his drink, sort of side-eyeing Cindy whilst doing so, and after swallowing he announces, "I feel like I should retaliate somehow."

[identity profile] fuckyouboots.livejournal.com 2011-08-15 01:30 am (UTC)(link)
That gets a Look. A very serious and deathly look.

"Only if you really hate having arms."
Edited 2011-08-15 01:31 (UTC)

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-15 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
"See," he says, pointing at her around his glass, "that would be why I only said it instead of doing it." Whatever 'it' may or may not be.

Jesus, look at his face. What is happening—oh, okay, he's just grinning.

[identity profile] fuckyouboots.livejournal.com 2011-08-15 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, well, tell the idea of saying it or even thinking it to fuck off." Nobody touches Cindy unless they want to die, want her to die, or they've having sex. None of these options are happening right now in this bar with Arthur so it will never happen.

That grin is slightly odd on his serious face. She watches him like one would watch a strange dog lumbering towards them. "What's so funny?"

[identity profile] fixedroll.livejournal.com 2011-08-15 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
Don't worry, the alien expression is always brief-lived; soon nary a dimple shall remain.

"Nothing," he says, in the way that clearly means you. And now that the tables are effectively turned, he sees this as an excellent time to break away... after an appropriate pause, of course, during which he just looks at Cindy, like he wants to remember this moment for some reason. It's brief, but pointed. And now it's over. "Well, I'm gonna go mingle. See you around."

In what is no doubt a shocking turn of events, it seems he intends to leave his tie there on the floor.

[identity profile] fuckyouboots.livejournal.com 2011-08-15 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, nothing my ass," Cindy mutters as she turns back to her drink. He didn't win this one, not by a long shot. The points still rack up in her favor and don't forget, he's leaving without his tie and his clothes still messed up.

She is always the winner.