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

[goodeintentions]

Aimery's eyebrows went up, his expression turning a little more openly dubious yet amused, at the notion that he hadn't liked Jack. It was even harder to believe when he said he'd worked for him; he had a fleeting recollection of someone he cared for suggesting that he stop... fraternizing... with employees, no matter how comely and polite. But if that was Jack's assessment of it, it must've been mostly true given that Aimery didn't remember him beyond his face.

"Apologies, Jack, I don't remember," he took the offered hand for a firm shake, "though if it helps I hardly remember anyone from Bete Noire and now think it's a terrible shame if we didn't get along." There was that 'don't fraternize with employees' thought again. He cleared his throat and aimed for friendly, catching up conversation instead. "You can clearly remember the city though?"

[mightyfallen]

"I can." He gives a curious look, surprised that Aimery can't. The other man certainly had more time in Bete Noire, more things to remember. That makes him wonder after a supernatural cause, but then, he's not really in the mood to wonder too hard. "It's been a year for me, give or take, but I remember it."

He considers filling Aimery in on the details he does recall – Aimery had said the wrong thing, Jack had been entirely unforgiving, they'd otherwise kept their distance, but after a year's time (and this much alcohol) it doesn't seem worthwhile. Instead, "Oh well. I like this one better." A smile, sly around the edges. "Did you just arrive?"

[goodeintentions]

Jack got to remember everything, yet he couldn't even recall the names of close friends? Aimery's smile turned into a little bit of a pout at that, though it lessened when Jack said he liked 'this one' better- presumably their previous introduction hadn't been positive. What a pity.

"I did," he nodded with a touch of a smile, ready to make with the improved beginning, "Last night, in fact. Perhaps it's a little soon to be at a party but, I thought, why not? What have I to lose?" Because he basically had nothing left besides bitterness. Aimery lifted one hand and waved dismissively, then gestured vaguely towards Jack. "But you've been a year? All settled in, I assume?"

[mightyfallen]

"That's the spirit." Jack is no stranger to bitterness, nor to the use of alcohol and the company of near-strangers to allay it.

To the question, he nods in a half-hearted attempt at modesty. "I was lucky enough to bring in a few things from home to get me started. These days I have a building over in West Gidd, and I'm looking at a few others." He shrugs, like Oh, property ownership, so blasé, and finishes off his whiskey. "You'll find your feet, I'm sure. Have you thought about what you want to do here?"

[goodeintentions]

Aimery had no idea where West Gidd was, but going from the faux-humble way Jack said it —and that he mentioned the location at all— he could only assume it was somewhere prestigious. He wasn't jealous, but he could certainly relate to the struggle he must've gone through, even with 'a few things from home'.

"Glad to hear you've done well for yourself, climbing to the top in a new place can't have been easy," Aimery grinned, a subconscious attempt to remind Jack that he'd once done his own climbing from nothing, too. "And I've not given it much thought, though I've had a job offer already—at this very party, if you can believe it—and I have no intention of ever running a hostel again."

He's better off without the hostel anyway. Really.

[mightyfallen]

Jack waves a hand, dismissive of his own accomplishments. It's something he's actually proud of, and for that reason he's reluctant to brag about it too much, lest his ego take a blow. He appreciates the parallel with Aimery's own experience, however, and the lack of remorse over the hostel surprises him.

"No? Not for you anymore, hm." He doesn't believe that for a second, but he remembers what being snatched up from Bete Noire was like, being suddenly deprived of everything he'd accomplished, and he's kind enough not to linger on that subject. "What kind of job offer?"

[goodeintentions]

"Butler and cook for a pair of bachelors," he said, smile and tone turning a bit self-deprecating, "Sounds like a step down, I know, but the duties are along the same lines and seeing after a pair of bachelors should be far more manageable than a hundred of them."

Not that his hostel had reached max capacity what with the upper floors just finishing, but there had been times when he had fifty guests under his roof, and he'd had to learn all their names and make sure they were taken care of. It was a big bundle of work. Aimery shrugged as if he didn't care, then waved loosely towards the bar, "I was off to get another drink, let me get you something?"

Then he spotted the glass in Jack's hand. Oh. Aimery corrected himself, "Let me get you another something?"

[mightyfallen]

"It's a good start, to be sure." A pair of bachelors raises certain suspicions in his mind as to whether they're bachelors at all, but only because he's been drinking and the idea tickles him a bit. (Little does he know, he's acquainted with this particular pair.)

To the drink offer, he side-eyes the other man just briefly. He knows they don't give new arrivals enough money to be buying everyone's drinks, sir.

"Well–" he holds up one finger as if to say One moment, lifts his glass, and downs the not insubstantial remainder of his whiskey in one perhaps disturbingly unflinching swallow. "There, fixed." A smile, catty. "How about a beer, for a chaser." That won't be too hard on Aimery's pocketbook, at least.

[goodeintentions]

Indeed they don't, and it was actually some other bar patron that would end up paying for Jack's and Aimery's drinks, but even if Jack had called him on the looseness with funds, he wouldn't have told him that. Besides, it's not like he bought all his own drinks either. Aimery grinned broadly when Jack swallowed his drink in one impressive go, then forced his face into (blatantly faked) seriousness and gave a pursed-lipped nod of approval, as if congratulating him on his problem solving skills.

"Well, beer is technically something," he agreed, grin returning, "So beer it is. I'll be back in a moment." Aimery headed off to the bar for their drinks and returned a minute or two later after having to have the 'I promise this is my last and no I'm not going to drink them both' discussion with a well-meaning bartender.