What a night | OPEN

[goodeintentions]

Who: inkstainedsword and ANYBODY :D
What: Aimery's got the night off, so he's going exploring and barhopping. Also POKER.
Where: In bars, clubs, or the streets between Howl Barrow, Brock Marsh, and Griss Twist.
When: Veerdi (Friday) evening->night.
Notes: This is open forever, back/slowtagging absolutely welcome, and if you want to tag but aren't sure about where to set it, just IM me or sommat and we'll make it work :3
Warnings: Mutually drunk making out, Discussions of suicide and depression

A night off meant a night out. One where he doesn't have to worry about staying sober and unoccupied enough that he can head home when called, and that meant he got to range a bit further from said home. Before leaving he slicked his hair back and dressed in his going out clothes- he made a mental note to go shopping, soon, so he'd have more variety in that, though it's not like there was anything wrong with them and he didn't expect to run into many familiar faces who'd notice the repetition. He brought his longsword along this time, too, just in case.

First he made his way to Howl Barrow, where he'd been told there was a so-called 'Queer community'. Aimery had been warned about flamboyancy but the welcoming enthusiasm and degree of... free spiritedness with regard to clothing and social norms... he found in the first club he tried was overwhelming. No, he wasn't ready for those kinds of places yet, but he found a somewhat quieter bar, had some wine, and learned a few new words (were they adjectives or nouns? he couldn't tell) then headed back along the river towards slightly more familiar, and less interestingly terrifying, territory.

Griss Twist was more rowdy in a dangerous sort of way, but with a sword and a dark bruise on the bridge of his nose from the most minor broken nose ever to ward people off (funny that it had earned him much sympathy in Howl Barrow) he wasn't worried. He stopped in a few places —including nice dance club with the most fascinatingly rapid music, he'd have to make sure to visit there again— but eventually settled on finishing his evening in a comparatively quieter bar that happened to feature poker. Aimery didn't quite remember who had taught him, but he was good, and if his "beginner's luck" held until the regulars got tired, then maybe he would be able to buy that custom sword after all.

Comments

[deservesadaisy]

Ivan found that going only to vampire bars repulsed him both in theory and in practice. Sustenance was all well and good (less good, if they all kept closing), but there wasn't much entertainment to be found in such places; besides, the way the wind was blowing, he could use some allies. And people watching was better in other parts of the city too.

Normally, he'd be happy to just sit in the corner and watch, but he could use a return on his cash, and he'd been playing poker since only a few decades after the modern form was invented, and he'd been lying for more than two centuries. He didn't win enough to piss off the locals, but he did win steadily enough that he was netting a profit.

Eventually, it's inevitable he and Aimery will end up at the same table.

[mightyfallen]

At one of those nicer dance clubs, tucked behind the haze of colored lights and reverberating bass, is a young man dressed like nearly every other guy in the club, dark-colored top and jeans, and if it weren't for the fit and the too-nice watch, he'd blend right in. Anonymity is novel luxury for Jack, and one he has taken to indulging in Baedal. He didn't come with an entourage, or even arm candy. He isn't giving anyone his real name. He's just another clubber, out drinking and dancing and marveling at the idea of not being recognized. When he finally runs for office and politics necessitate putting his face and name everywhere he can manage, this won't be possible, but for however many more weeks or months before that happens, it is an acceptable risk.

And he needs this, tonight more than most. His career is going well, you could say, if by "going well" you meant he's gaining power and influence, but what he's using that influence for is skewing his candidate's campaign in the direction of human supremacy, constructing a quiet reputation for himself as anti-xenian and anti-polytheist at the cost of real people's freedoms. When it pays off – if it pays off, if the Candlelighters even notice and if he can do any good once they do – maybe then it will feel like he did the right thing.

Right now, though, it feels like shit. And that's fine. That's how it ought to feel. He can be that person, he can handle it, but not for every minute of the day. He needs to be someone else– or no one at all, just disappear into the motion of the crowd and the rush of alcohol in his veins, if only for a few hours.

When he sees Aimery, he almost doesn't stop. It's dark, it would be easy enough to slip back onto the dance floor without being seen– but the thing about disappearing is, he has to do it alone. And he gets tired of that, too.

"I'm buying this time," he says by way of greeting as he sidles up next to Aimery, leaning an elbow on the bar. "And whatever you're having, have two – you have some catching up to do."