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

[mightyfallen]

He shouldn't be staring. He knows that, intellectually, in the same distant part of his mind that is still occupied with thoughts of history and leadership strategy once Adrian raises his glass, and it would be a lie to say those very ruminations aren't contributing to the fact that he is holding the other man's gaze a bit too long. To the casual observer, it would be nothing, maybe, but to anyone attuned to the language of lingering glances, it's not the kind of look he ought to risk in public. Unfortunately (or fortunately?) Jack is not in spectacular control of his facilities right now.

"Maybe when you're done in the spotlight." He inclines his head faux-dramatically. Then, tapping his empty glass, "And when I'm properly soused. Can I get you another?"

[defenestration]

Unfortunately (fortunately?) for Jack, Adrian is very well versed in that language, and his lips curl upward into the slightest of smiles as he holds the man's gaze for as long as he's able.

At the offer of a refill, he holds out his glass but pauses halfway there, so that Jack will have to come into his personal space to take it. "I think that depends on how many more will be required to get you properly soused," he answers softly, low enough that his words are almost drowned out by the music and the crowd.

[mightyfallen]

It's hardly a step closer, but he hesitates, briefly and futilely, pulling his lip between his teeth for a moment, but that doesn't stifle the slow curve of a smile on his face as he halves the distance between them, reaching for the glass but not yet pulling it away. He could just step back again. He should. Instead, he lets the motion of that step carry him in to lean nearer to Adrian's ear.

"You know, I don't think they offer anything strong enough here."

'Here' being the operative word. (This is a bad idea, he knows this is a bad idea.)

[defenestration]

Adrian's smile doesn't change when Jack gives in and steps closer, but something in his eyes does, a glint of smug confidence that hints at being used to getting everything he wants.

Without moving more than the slightest turn of his head, he replies in similar fashion. "And where might you suggest we could find something stronger?" He's willing to take Jack back to his place, but he's equally willing to go elsewhere if that's the other man's preference. Adrian finds it doubtful that wherever Jack chooses would be less than suiting to his tastes.

[mightyfallen]

"I know a place." He has a place, more accurately, and it's some small evidence of his remaining good sense that he suggests it, versus going to Adrian's or inviting the other man back to his home. "Meet me around back in five." Because even drunk and impatient, he's not going to risk being seen leaving with someone.

He pulls away at that, glass in hand, taking the first two steps backward so as to hold Adrian's gaze a few moments longer before retreating – not especially steadily – back to toward bar.

[defenestration]

Adrian's only reply is a slight incline of his head, but he watches Jack make his way back to the bar and then disappear into the crowd. Then he turns and moves off in another direction, stopping a couple of times to exchange brief words with some of the contacts he's made. When he feels sure he's not being watched by anyone with particular interest, he slips out the door and around to the back of the building.

It takes him precisely five minutes, and he manages it with a great deal more subtlety and stealth than one might expect from a man dressed as Adrian is.

[mightyfallen]

Jack doesn't manage as subtle an exit as he otherwise might. He says a few words to the bartender, he stops to chat with a familiar face, but he's restless, eager to leave, and that shows more than he'd like. Still, he finds his way out without incident.

It would be unfair to say Jack doesn't have self control – he has an abundance of it, he's just also gifted with the kind of intensity that builds empires from ashes through sheer force of will. He isn't made for restraint. Add tonight's lowered inhibitions to that mix, and it's safe to say he's going to have trouble reigning it in until they get where they're going. (He considers, when he sees Adrian, pausing with his teeth teasing the inner edge of his lip, whether he couldn't pull the other man into a dark corner just for a taste– but they'd never leave at that rate.)

A beat, a once-over, then, "It isn't far, I promise." Leading the way in the general direction of Echomire. What he has in mind is a little out-of-the-way place he's started keeping for just these kinds of occasions.