What about the way you love me? [Party Thread]

[wholelota_angel]

((OOC: PARTY THREAD-ish. Tag in before, during, or after if you want, and post your own character in just chillin' there if you want for other people to comment on. Also. slow-timed like woah, because I know a lot of people are having braining issues lately and I understand completely. I'm there more often than not))

At 7:43pm, JD sits at one of

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[theshameofcain]

Bambi slides into Rusty's booth sometime after his contact leaves like she was totally meant to be there this whole time. She swipes a chicken wing without preamble and adjusts herself so that she's sprawled across the booth seat with her back against the wall.

"Didn't peg you for a blues man," she says, nibbling on the chicken wing.

Get used to it, Rusty. Bambi is like a cat. She will be where she wants to be and no one is going to question her.

[trivialsublime0]

Rusty blinks, looking up from the wing at his mouth, surprised at first to see her there. He tends to be unobservant so it's not like he would have seen her come in, anyway, but he's starting to get used to Bambi... being around. He likes it. One of those things in life that he can count on ((ooc: ahem)).

A friend. Rusty doesn't make friends easily, not without a lot of 'persuasion'... sometimes not even then.

"Wouldn't have been here if I didn't have to, but I gotta admit. It's not half bad." He gestures toward the stage absently. "The chicken wings are a freakin' wonder, too." Rusty raises his eyebrows at the wing that she is currently nibbling. "Savor that. This shit's worth every penny 'n more."

One of the few things that are these days.

[theshameofcain]

"My compliments to the chef," Bambi says, topping off the wing and laying the bone on a napkin, wiping a bit of excess sauce from around her mouth with a finger before licking it off delicately... Or, well, as delicately as one can do something like that. No one ever said Bambi was a lady.

"Yeah, I heard you had to meet a guy," she says, stretching her legs out in front of her. Hopefully, no one has any interest in that seat, because they're not getting it. "Figured I'd swing by and we'd make a night of it or somethin'."

Which is like the weirdest concept of dating ever, but, well, it's Bambi. Not that she'd think of it in those terms. She just likes Rusty and she can stand to be around him for longer than five minutes, which makes him worth spending her free time with.

[trivialsublime0]

Rusty stares. Delicate or not, Bambi licking her finger is hot. He is going to now stare at the bone on the napkin like if he doesn't stop, he will never be able to lose that image.

He swallows back the nerves and utter attraction that has left him feeling more awkward than he's comfortable with when she speaks, again.

"That's- Uh." It takes him a second to simply process what she's said. Rusty clears his throat with a forced cough and leans back further in the booth, so he's pressed up against the corner between the wall and the seat, easy as sinking into shadow except not. "That was... nice of ya. Ain't like doin' a meet-and-greet's any fun at all. Much rather share some wings with you, anyway, than talk about..."

Rusty scratches the back of his head awkwardly. Well, she knows so it's not like he has to tell her, and he doesn't like to talk about the details.

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark is also lurking in a dark corner for... No reason, really. Possibly he just likes dark corners... That or he's avoiding people in general. He's only here because Ariel's his guardian angel and having something to occupy his time with that isn't wandering around town or lurking in his apartment is ideal lest he go insane.

He'll be in this corner the whole time, appreciating the music quite a bit- Ariel does have quite a lovely voice- and when Ariel's set is over, more than likely he's going to duck out quickly like he was never here. Typical Sark behavior, really.

[the_recruiter]

It's likely that Ariel notices Sark is there. Guardian angels can often sense when their wards are near, but she might let him off without chasing him down and saying didn't know you liked Blues music in appreciation for him being here. Even if he didn't come for her

[sarkraticmethod]

Sark doesn't tense, doesn't flinch, doesn't let even an slight tinge of emotion cross his features, and just stares flatly for a moment, like he's wondering if there's some ulterior motive here. Not that there's anything that would indicate that, but he's naturally paranoid.

"And what impression might that be exactly?" He asks dryly, giving an impression of innocence. Nothing to see here, just a guy minding his own business, enjoying the blues... And if he happens to be lurking in dark corners, it's because he just doesn't want to deal with people. That didn't work so well, apparently.

[the_recruiter]

Romeo just manages to look surprised at Sark's reaction. He's not, of course. From what Leona told him, his reaction is to be expected. Romeo would rather not let it be known just yet that he has been keeping an eye out for Sark since the Christmas party. It might not be taken quite well after all, not everyone appreciates being stalked for their potential assets to a more than shady organization

[nothingsodivine]

Des is sort of gravitating around the club, looking for familiar faces like he tends to do, occasionally stopping to chat with people, and probably worrying the poor waitresses silly by never actually appearing at the same table twice (the only exception is when the performance starts, where he can be found at Martha's side, enjoying the show and when it's over, his catcalling and cheers probably rival JD's- hey, he's a pretty adorable drunk).

Catch him at any point- he has drinks and he's in a good mood.

[smithnjones]

"This is a classy joint, Des," Martha says, some time toward the end of the night when there's probably enough alcohol in her that coherent sentences should be considered a triumph. "We just- just- can't just be dancing' on these here, pretty tables, y'know? Or we'd never be allowed back, but when we get home I am challenging you. So be prepared, Mister."

Martha pokes him in the chest and puts her hands on her hips, attempting to look very threatening? Because she will so stay awake long enough to make an attempt at table dancing when they finally get home. Actually, the narration wouldn't put it past her.

At this point, most of the other patrons have filtered out over time at this point. Martha doesn't know what time it is, but the last she check it was quite a bit passed midnight.

[nothingsodivine]

Des attempts to hide the fact that he just wants to burst out laughing with something akin to a sheepish smile, catching Martha's shoulders as if he's afraid she'll tip over at any minute. "But Martha, the gods of Ikea will come down on us if we dance on their tables. Do you want Ikea to come down on us? I hear they're very big on human sacrifice!"

The sad thing is that Des isn't really that drunk, despite the late hour. Des is also not tineh and is very used to holding his liquor.

He notes the nearly empty club and makes to usher Martha towards the door. "Although, if you want to tempt fate..."

[smithnjones]

"The gods of... what?" Sorry, Des, she's a little too drunk to coherently recognize the reference. It's possible there's no Ikea in London, too. "I didn't know tables had gods. 'n if they did they should be honored, cause I am dancing on them. No better honor 'n that, huh?"

Martha can generally hold her liquor fairly well, but she had a lot to drink and she is tineh.

She smiles up at him as he starts to usher her toward the door. "I love to tempt fate. Hey, hey, hey, are we leavin' already?"

[elashte]

Of the many places in which Elashte feels and looks at home, blues clubs and jazz bars are among his favorites. He noticed the rather enthusiastic man on the journals alerting Chicago in general, and figured that he might as well see what the fuss was about. The night didn't disappoint.

Once the lady's detatched herself from the young man who pounced on her - Elashte's first thought was her ward, but a brief mental brush corrected that - and approaches with a smile. He's halfway through a glass of red wine, one hand tucked behind his back.

"A very fine performance," he says, with a very small bow in greeting. He's a gentleman. Can't help it. There's also nothing threatening or suggestive about his posture; poludnicas don't develop good threatening skills, and he's, to be honest, never been particularly sexually interested in anyone. He's just a man who enjoys good music and would like to show his appreciation. "Would it be totally inappropriate to buy the singer a drink?"

[wholelota_angel]

Ariel recognizes Elashte from the Christmas Ball. It was a wonderful opportunity to at least, get familiar with the many faces of the supernatural world, especially their supposed leaders. She smiles warmly when he bows. It's a nice gesture, and he does come off as quite the gentleman to her. She never would have expected it of a demon until recently when she began to see that there weren't so many differences between the two species

[elashte]

Elashte makes a small motion to the bar, accepting her hand. The skin is cold, he temperature difference between angel and demon obvious, but in this as in most things he will remain a perfect gentleman.

"Elashte," he says. He doesn't expect people outside of a very few circles to automatically recognize his face. He still hasn't become used to this sudden fame... or infamy. "I've had the privilege of being exposed tot he American musical traidition - Jazz, blues - almost from their inception. it remains a favorite of mine."

[wholelota_angel]

Ariel does her best not to make a face at the heat of his hand. It's like sticking her hand in scalding water. It may be difficult, but she manages to suppress the wince and not pull her hand away too quickly from the shake.

It's still going to take a while to get used to it.

"It's nice to meet you, Elashte." She smiles at him. "Blues has always been my favorite genre. I think I inherited that love from my Momma. So you got any musical talent yourself, or do you just like to appreciate it?"

[reluctantxangel]

Nate's a little late to the show, but he had to debate for a while whether he really wanted to leave Mattie on his own, even just for a few hours...

But Mattie wanted him to go, and JD is here, and since he's the only person other than Mat that Nate can stand lately... Well, it can't hurt to have a night out.

He wanders up behind JD, catching him at the bar and leaning over his shoulder with a grin. Mostly it's just fun to make him do that. "Exactly how much have you had to drink already?"

[sensi_doctor]

JD almost jumps at the voice by his shoulder suddenly. He flails with spaztic hand gestures, and then twists around to look back at... "Oh! It's y- you! Hey, you came! I'm so glad you came, man, it's good to see you, again! You're pretty. I haven't drunken much or nothin'!"

He smiles drunkenly. Although the drunken smile is honestly more because of well, Nate than, because of say... the alcohol in his body.

"Appletinis are really, really good," he says, taking his next one from the bartender and turning around, trying not to notice how close Nate is. It's hard to make himself not think something when he's this inebriated though. Nate pretty! Appletini good! ...what?

[reluctantxangel]

Nate snorts a little, grinning broadly at that little ramble, and no, he did not miss the "you're pretty" that got stuck in the middle of it somewhere... "Dude, you're seriously drunk on appletinis?" He has many, many questions about this. Like how do you get drunk on appletinis, and... Okay, that's the main question.

[sensi_doctor]

"I had a lot of 'em," JD says with a slur that implies he's definetly quite drunk even if it was off a fruity drink like appletinis. "I had like five or maybe three or something. I think. I dunno! Who keeps track?"

He takes a sip of his fresh appletini, enjoying the flavor for a couple seconds before it occures to him. "And hey, what d'you mean by that question, anyhow? Why's it so surprising? Appletinis are awesome and flavorful and they've... got the 'tini in 'em."