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

[hexing]

She exhales a sigh that's more playfully dramatic than genuine, leaning back in her seat. "I know, I know. They're grown up now. In most places, they're legally allowed to be in bars."

But in her head they're still little; it's more than just seeing your babies grown up. She never got to see them mature, so there's an image in her head that's sixteen years old of them as very small. Wanda smiles just slightly, looking over at Remy.

"You've been doing well with having them here with us."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

He knows it's tough on her. She missed a lot - it's startling to him to see kids he knew at the school when it was still a school out in uniform, and those are just students. Her own children, and the circumstances in which they are her children? Remy can't come close to understanding, no matter what his awareness might be. He knows she's hard on herself (like recognizes like), and so he tries to make her smile about it, when he can.

"Yeah, well. They're pretty cool kids." His smile echoes hers, and Remy reaches over for her hand, idle, silently supportive. (It's a small remark, but they both know the significance of how easy he's taking to life with his girlfriend's kids.)

thanks for that lj

[hexing]

"And Tommy is hoping you'll blow things up with him," she says, twining her fingers through his with the relaxed ease of someone who's used to the way they fit together.

After a while, things start to get comfortable -- never truly steady, with the lives they lead, but some approximation of reliable, which is a quality worth its weight in gold and rubies, where they come from. Wanda is hoping they can extend some of that to the boys during their time here, but she's observed enough of Baedal to know that there's still some trouble to be found.

They'd probably get bored without.

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

"I promise it won't be nothin' you'll miss." It'll be fine, they'll call it training.

It's somehow more real with the boys; that layer of surreal seclusion is stripped away when they're forced to exist around other people that know them. It could all be over in a second, because of what they do and just who they are, as individuals, but for now, they're better this way.

[hexing]

Learning to accept any major changes to this lifestyle they've gotten started has been difficult for Wanda, a little -- she is aware that the cities that steal are prone to also giving their captives back, once in a while, and is torn between guilt at wanting the boys to stay and simply being happy they're there.

She shakes her head.

"What a family reunion...next all we need is my brother to turn up. Of course, the way things are going, he'll be fifteen years old."

[bangyoudead.livejournal.com]

Routine changes are frustrating for everybody, but this is a bit bigger than that, and Wanda isn't everybody. Remy tries to keep things typical, for a lot of reasons, her mental health included - life is very much out of there control, there.

"Hey, can't be worse than that one guy, right?" He grins at her, teasing.