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

[toooldforlosing]

He laughs, quieter as he empties his drink. "On me, that's just stubbornness."

[gotbottle]

"You know what? Stubbornness is pretty underrated, sometimes, as an outlook." She unwinds a little, elbow on the bar, hand balled into a loose fist with her cheek resting against it, her belly pleasantly full of alcohol. "Rolling over and just giving up at the first sign of resistance never suited me. I don't mind people who can stick things out."

[toooldforlosing]

"I've always been told, though, there's a point at which you should just let things go." Not that he'd been good at it.

[gotbottle]

"It is helpful. When you can."

And maybe her tone implies that she can't, not always. Sometimes.

"Stuff can start to eat at you from the inside if you hold on to it too long. But people always say you should let things go like that's some easy shit to do. If it was--you would've."

[toooldforlosing]

Wryly, he says, "I think that sentiment calls for another drink, myself."

[gotbottle]

Rachel grins. "Sounds good to me." The night's for celebrating; another drink is definitely in order. "You want another of the same?"

[toooldforlosing]

"Wouldn't say no." He gestures to the bartender. His tolerance might be a little worryingly high, in truth.

[gotbottle]

Rachel's own tolerance wasn't shabby; she'd be able to keep up for a little bit, yet. "Thank you," she murmurs, in response to him getting the bartender's attention.

[toooldforlosing]

"My pleasure. Chivalry ain't quite dead everywhere, after all. Sometimes, I even hold doors open."

[gotbottle]

Rachel laughed softly. "Gosh," she said, a note of good-natured teasing in her tone, "if you tell me you cover puddles with your overcoat I might swoon."

[toooldforlosing]

He laughs at that. "I'll bear that in mind. I'd have to catch you, though. Ruin the whole effect, otherwise."

[gotbottle]

"Yeah, no kidding." She's genuinely amused by that. "Especially if I fell in the damn mud puddle."

The bartender makes his way back over, and Rachel gestures again, at both glasses.

[toooldforlosing]

"Well, I figure with the hat, I may as well go down the whole cowboy road, you know?" He's joking. Sort of.

[gotbottle]

"I suppose you gotta, yeah." She smiles, soft and warm. "I do like the hat. It suits you."

[toooldforlosing]

"Thanks - fond of it myself. Got it stolen, once, but that was my own damn fault."

[gotbottle]

Her eyes widen a bit at that. "Stolen? How'd that happen?"

[toooldforlosing]

"Picked a fight I was too drunk to win," he says, with a grimace. "Assholes beat me up and took my hat for good measure." Not his finest moment.

[gotbottle]

She makes a face as she swallows, shaking her head. "Now that's just uncalled for. But you got it back?" She gestures at his hat, with the hand holding her drink. "Or did you have to get a replacement?"

[toooldforlosing]

"No, no. Went back sober and retrieved it." It had taken a bit of trouble, but he liked this hat. "Besides, it looked stupid on the guy who took it. Didn't fit."

[gotbottle]

"Well, good. He shouldn't have had it in the first place. It wasn't his to take or try to wear." She's a bit impressed by all of this, the going back despite the earlier beating.

[toooldforlosing]

"Yeah, well. I shouldn't go picking fights when I'm drunk, either, but you can't always do what you should."

[gotbottle]

"Mmm. Well, no, you can't." She grins. "Especially not when you're drunk. That's rarely the time when you can manage it. I've been there. I mean, no actual fights but most of the less-than-stellar decisions of my life have happened when I was drunk."

[toooldforlosing]

"And yet neither of us have stopped drinking," he pointed out, "which suggests the bad decisions can happen sober, too."

[gotbottle]

"Well, now, wait," Rachel protested, laughing, lifting her index finger away from her glass in the universal gesture for hold up a minute, "not always. Like, unless either of us rolled in here with the intent of drinking too much and making bad decisions, then no. We probably decided to come and have some drinks. If we decide to make any bad decisions after that, we can't say it happened entirely sober, right?"

[toooldforlosing]

"Well, true, but if we wanted to be sure we didn't make stupid decisions, it'd make more sense not to start drinking at all, wouldn't it?" he asks, amused.