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 nodded agreeably as he took the offered glass and held it up in return toast. Then he took a long drink, following it with a sudden, amused look, "Does this mean I have to call you Mr. Luthor now?"

He sat his glass on the edge of the table to pick up his cue and resume their game, and it only took him a moment or two to for him to line his shot back up. Aimery actually managed to knock a ball into a pocket... but not the one he intended. It was a solid. Oh well.

[patricide]

"We're still at a party, aren't we?" is the answer given, and Lex watches Aimery resume the game. Hitting any ball at all is at least progress, but it's going to be a long while until Aimery can accurately call himself a pool shark.

"Why don't we switch it up a bit? You take solids, there's only four left if you include the eight ball and I still have all the stripes." It then occurs to him that Aimery has no idea what the significance of the eight ball is. "Number eight is to be shot last, regardless of what color you're using. If you've knocked in all other balls, then you can take aim at the eight ball. If you knock it in at that time then the game is over."

"So. Solids. It's still your turn. If you win I'll get you another round unless you're a gambling man and have something better in mind."

[goodeintentions]

"That's very kind, and I am not too big a man to accept," he said in answer to the offer to switch, even though Lex had already 'agreed' that it was Aimery's turn again. That amused him, though he couldn't pin down why, except maybe the generous, collected confidence implied in giving up such a lead. Such an appealing trait.

"And gambling, well," Aimery continued as he moved around the table to get another shot, aiming for a solid, "I have on occasion, though considering how terrible at this I am, I suppose I shouldn't wager something I'd hate to lose." Which wasn't much. He went quiet a moment, concentrating on keeping his hand stable during the shot, but only succeeded in knocking the balls around, none in the pockets. "Ah well. How about this, loser buys the next round and tells a secret? Unless you've something better in mind."

[patricide]

"That seems like a perfectly acceptable wager to me." Lex walks around the table, eying the different angles for the best shot. He finally chooses a spot and after much sizing up doesn't take much time to hit a solid into a pocket.

He then moves to the opposite side and aims, hitting the intended target solidly but it stops just short of the pocket and moves a solid to teeter on the edge.

Grinning at Aimery and his own bad fortune, Lex gives the other man an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Come on, let's see you make this one."

[goodeintentions]

"You recall you're meant to hit the stripes now, yes?" Aimery commented, perhaps a little cattily, as Lex knocked the first ball into the hole. He made no move to stop him though, just stood by, holding his cue and sipping his wine while the other man set up a perfect, impossible to miss shot for him.

"You needn't win for me, you know," he sighed after the good natured pat, his tone some mix of amused, annoyed, indignant, and endeared. And drunk. Aimery headed around to line up his cue and sink the barely-balanced ball, then moved a little ways away to aim for the remaining non-8 solid. That time he did a little better, managing to at least set himself up for a possible-score on his next turn. He turned a playful glare at Lex and wagged his finger at him, "Now, don't you hit my balls again."

He didn't get to say that very often.

[patricide]

Lex counts himself lucky that he had stopped drinking just before Aimery made that last remark because he laughs and has to rest a hand against the edge of the table to keep himself steady. He manages to feign seriousness though his eyes give away a lingering amusement. "Never again, that was my mistake."

He can't bring himself to say the word balls like that.

Though he's not drunk like Aimery, Lex is feeling the effects of the alcohol. He shoots one of the stripes in and misses the second when he ordinarily would have banked that one in, albeit with a little concentration.

"At this rate you may be winning for yourself anyway."

[goodeintentions]

Lex laughing like that was worth the indignance of having the game so heavily swayed in his favor, and he managed a dubious pout for a moment when Lex answered. There was so much he could say to that, things that would escalate the innuendo and flirting... but he couldn't follow through on it. So he just mmhmmm'd quietly and returned to his drink, not bothering to hide his admiring of Lex until it was his turn to go. "Maybe, if I'm really lucky."

He was lucky, in a way, that Lex hadn't jarred the shot he set up before, which left him with just the eight. The angle between it and the cue was perfect to knock it in a corner pocket, too, except for a lone stripe blocking him from being able to just tap it in.

Well, would be blocking him, except for the whole, choosing thing. Aimery didn't hesitate on choosing to 'stroke' his cue through in order to sink the ball and finish the game. He held up his arms over his head in triumph, then realized how ridiculous he looked and settled for a smug grin instead. "I win! Looks like I get better with more alcohol and you get worse. I'll have to remember that."

[patricide]

Though Lex rolls his eyes, he smiles anyway. He had expected Aimery to win and is pleased that the man took every advantage of the opportunity. He informs Aimery that he'll be right back and returns with another round.

"Well, that's the first part of our bargain. What kind of secret do you want to know?"

[goodeintentions]

Aimery accepted the offered wine and took a short sip, purposefully lingering close to Lex instead of moving away after taking the glass.

"Hmm, I don't know," he answered, giving a coyish shrug. He knew he ought to use the opportunity for secrets in order to gain some kind of advantage or otherwise unreachable information... but he wasn't in the mood for political maneuvering. Something lighter then, that might also give handy information if he was lucky. "Have you any fascinating scars?"

[patricide]

At the question Lex's face falls blank and detached. He doesn't move away from Aimery and he's not averse to their flirtation, but what scar he does have bears a heavy memory with it. In his mind he puts the more pleasant parts of their conversation on hold until he follows through with his promise of answering the question.

"I was stabbed down my shoulder."

[goodeintentions]

...maybe it wasn't a lighter subject.

"Ouch, stabbing's quite painful," he said softly, voice full of sympathy. "Apologies, perhaps it was a bad question, but it's already been asked. How did it happen? If it's not difficult for you to discuss."

Meaning, he considered that part of the 'secret', but wouldn't press or hold it against Lex if he chose not to explain.

[patricide]

"It's only fair," he says in that same detached tone. His voice naturally gets quieter and he steps closer to Aimery to be heard over the noise. "I was at a night club and attempting to protect a friend. Things got ugly, but she's fine." That's all that mattered anyway. Lex had done his job. Aimery won't be getting any more details.