[ OPEN ] willkommen, bienvenue, welcome

[feintofhart]

Who: The Adults Of Aldrip
Where: A handy dandy bar!
What: Claude has collaborated with one of the local bar-owners to host a Chosen-only night for the adults of Aldrip to have a nice night away from the prying eyes of locals.
Warnings: Alcohol, drug-use, grown men making embarrassments of themselves, potential hand-holding.



Welcome one and all to a place where the Chosen are able to unbutton that top button, sit back, and relax, free of the badgering eyes of locals, and able to mingle amongst like minds! Your local Apothecarist, Claude von Riegan, came up with this idea with one of the local bar-owners as a good way to drum up business amidst the Chosen for a place for the Chosen and the Chosen alone to be able to shed some of that weight they've been carrying. Claude himself has made no secret of the fact that he's the one who put this shindig together, openly advertising it as something of his own creation, a community building effort for everyone to bond with one another in a context in which they're not forced to do so by threat of death or imprisonment.

For this evening, liquor has been put out for the Chosen to serve themselves, and runs freely enough that everyone will be able to drink their fill, though there's a table at the back of the room laden with all sorts of bar snacks to help fill people's bellies and soak up some of that liquor; flatbreads and fried delights, a generous selection of meats and cheeses, and confections enough to satisfy even the most demanding sweet tooth.

Along the south end of the bar there are a collection of booths, far enough away from the booming sound system to be able to chat quietly amongst themselves, if you're the more retiring sort and would just like to have a nice talk over a pint or two. In this area, you may also find a few hookahs at your disposal, filled with tobacco or hashish, courtesy of Claude himself -- though he hasn't shied away from cheekily including business cards at each table, advertising his place of business should you wish to purchase teas, salves, potions, and yes, all manner of smokable delights.

In the centre of the establishment, chairs and tables have been cleared away to make room for dancing, if you so please, with the sound system at the Chosen's disposal if they want to pump up the beats or put on a slow song to rock to and fro with a honey or two (or three?).

Lastly, there's a brand new karaoke machine that's been installed along the far east corner of the room, in case anyone would like to thoroughly embarrass themselves. What do you mean, you're a good singer? Then get out of here! You should know by now that that's not what the spirit of karaoke is about!

If there's anything else you would like added, dear player -- just write it in, and it's yours! Whatever can feasibly fit into a bar, you can assume it's present for all and sundry to enjoy.

Comments

claude von riegan | fire emblem: three houses | ota

[feintofhart]

i. c'mon bartender, treat me more tender.

[ Even though Claude isn't technically working here... it's hard to turn it off. He's in no way a trained bartender, but his memories of a past life have given him an odd fondness for it, and he's frankly too hopped up to be able to relax well at the best of times. It's easier to get straight to work, hopping behind the bar with a flourish and a wink at whoever approaches him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear as he leans forward and over the counter. ]

Now, what can I get for you? Don't say a beer, or I'm going to make you get it for yourself. I'm back here exclusively to have fun and play with potions. The owner even left me with this sweet little cheat sheet!

Or, of course, I can guess what you might like. Barkeep's intuition, let's say.

ii. vibe and imbibe.

[ Eventually, Claude makes his way to the quiet tables for a little drink of his own. You can find him parked in one of the booths with a glass filled with amber liquid (his first of the night, the eagle-eyed may be able to spot; for all that he arranged for this and is plying others with liquor, he doesn't seem to indulge much himself), eager for a spot of friendly conversation. Or perhaps you find him helpfully rolling cigars and preparing the hookah for other guests, arching a brow at you and beckoning for you to come, sit down, and indulge. The night is young, and he's happy to help people have a nice night of vice before it's time to get back to business the next day.

Or perhaps you find him at the dartboard instead, whistling merrily to himself as he counts out the darts and looks over at you with a cheeky grin. ] Whoever wins owes the other a drink. Not tonight, though. It's cheating if it's free.

[ Don't take that bet. For all of Claude's failings, he's the best archer in the whole damn country, and he'll need more than one drink to dull those skills. ]

iii. a breath of fresh air.

[ As the night grows long, Claude escapes the festivities to sit outside of the bar and to get some fresh air, gazing a little wistfully at the dim stars above them. Before Aldrip had changed so dramatically, they had been as crystal clear as they were at home, even if the constellations were all different. But now... he can barely make them out behind the sheen of light pollution and the life of the city. He is, despite himself, terribly homesick.

And despite his profession -- he's not a smoker and indulges only very rarely, leaving his hands itching for something to do, and he winds up simply shoving them in his pockets, so deep in thought that he scarcely notices when someone else pops out for a breath of fresh air. ]

Oh -- hey! [ He will, however, flash them a brief smile. ] Enjoying the night? I thought it would make a nice change for us to have a night to... foster community, let's say.

[ It's not entirely altruistic. He believes that forging stronger bonds will help them in the future, when it's time to buck the people in charge of this place. To work together in tandem instead of squabbling amongst themselves. ]

iv. wildcard.

[ Claude is a merry sort of fellow -- he's eager to grab someone for a dance, or to sing his heart out at karaoke, or to do just about anything you're game for. Hit me up with whatever! ]

i

[everblooms]

[ A night out sounds like what the white mage ordered, she decides. Cloud will come along, she also decides, because he has to do everything fun with her in tow. Everyone will be here, she thinks to herself when she sees the advertisement. If not for the alcohol, then definitely for Claude.

Deja vu registers in the corners of Aerith's mind like ghosts in the corners of your eyes. She slips into a stool, hoisting herself up with a cheerful smile on her face. Bad habits die hard, don't they? A tease dances in her overbright eyes as Aerith looks at Claude, head tilted like a puppy considering playing with you. When he initiates by leaning in, she follows his charge, mimicking him beamishly. Banter. Banter, she can do. ]

Now, Claude... I believe they call this a different kind of -holic, don't they?

[feintofhart]

I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, [ Claude says, winking at her. He knows that working here too is beyond what Claude himself had said this was all about - a chance to kick back and unwind - but it's very much in keeping what he wants out of this whole mess. It's to his benefit if everyone has a couple of drinks and relaxes, makes a few friends, forges a few bonds, maybe has a chat or two with the friendly volunteer barkeep while they're at it. For all that the Chosen are in the same boat, they don't have nearly enough community.

And, well, Claude's all for fixing that. ]

I'm making something for you whether you like it or not. So you've at least got to tell me whether you want it alcoholic, or... [ His eyes dart down the list of recipes. ] Or a collection of juices, frankly.

ii

[baldrshand]

[Ethlyn isn't usually one for taverns and gaming houses. She knows her husband and her brother frequented them during their academy days, but that was not where the daughter of a storied ducal house was meant to be, and truth be told, she never felt as though she was missing much.

But this is a night that Claude's arranged, so it is different than going to one of the two Chosen-run bars in the city just for the sake of roistering. This is going to an event a friend is hosting. So when he beckons her over to a booth, she's happy to come over and take a seat.]

This is--[She looks up at the padded cusion behind her and the bench. This is her first time sitting in a booth like this.]--all rather cozy. What kind of favors did you have to call in?

i

[identitycrisiscore]

[ It's like falling into a pair of clothes that don't fit quite right, but are still comfortable on their own. Aerith dragged him out for a bit of comfort, and it's almost weird to post up to the bar that Claude is bartending behind. Unlike the last time they did this song and dance, they're different people — more baggage, a little more world-weary... but there's a bit of humor to his eyes. ]

Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Claude. What do you got back there on the 'hard and bitter' side?

ii

[grappler]

[Vi flops down at the booth with him, who knows how many beers in and feeling it.]

'Bout time you stopped working.

[she takes a long sip of her drink.]

You should be at least on your third by now.

i

[bulleting]

[It feels a bit dejavu, sitting at the bar with Claude on the opposite side. And he seems right at home, which makes Caitlyn smile a bit. She'd definitely struggled a bit, since that strange month of altered memories. Since many of her memories about Silco were still mixed up, it had been...challenging, to say the least. But Claude seems to be thriving at embracing that experience, and she's glad for him.]

Oh, no. No beer. Have a guess, if you'd like?

[He has served her before. Maybe he'll remember? If not, she's up for a surprise. As long as it wasn't beer.]

iii.

[conflictresolution]

[Despite the lateness of the night, Silco had only slipped in once he was certain most were good and drunk, loose enough that they may not have sharp enough vision to pick him out easily in the crowd of people. He hadn't planned on coming, but it had been on his way from one of his numerous businesses and he always had a vested interested in knowing what the competition was up to.

All the same, he didn't stay inside for long before he simply found his way out again. He already had a cigar out from his case and was lighting it up the moment he was out in the fresh air, pausing at the entrance to take the necessary drags to ignite the tip.

He provided a tilt of his head at the sudden voice, breathing smoke from his nostrils as he turned to regard Claude. They hadn't spoken in awhile, and he had nothing personal against the man. He was a skilled leader, the heroic type with a flying beast of burden and everything.]

The festivities seem to have garnered quite the audiance. Perhaps you have achieved your community goal. Time will tell.

ii

[finalfrontiersman]

[ Jim's been sitting at the back of the bar ever since he arrived, emerging only to refill his vodka spritz. It's become less and less of a spritz as the night's gone on, until Jim is quite literally just pouring himself shots to sip (at least he's still pouring them, and not drinking directly from the bottle he's absconded with). At least it was a little watered down for a while, with the ice melting in his glass.

Spock is somewhere - Jim's been keeping an eye out, and frankly it's the reason he's here tonight, in case Spock's sentencing turns itself into more of a problem than it already is - but things are...well, the way that they are, at present. Jim's still processing everything (to be fair, it's a lot, having spilled out of Spock like a burst pinata), and though they've made up as much as they can for now, Jim's still...mildly morose.

But Claude catches his eye, beckoning him over to the smoky area of the bar they've claimed for the night, and Jim's had more than enough of his own company. He stands up and ambles over, bringing the vodka with, because the night was still young, wasn't it? ]

Ah, the man of the hour!

[ Jim dumps himself gracelessly in the seat across from Claude, offering a cheeky little smile as he settles, propping his chin in his hand and draining the remains of his glass. ] You throw a classy shindig, sir. Can't believe they're letting hooligans like me through the door, but I guess there's always room for improvement, right?

iv. slides space medicine across the table

[ashaya]

[ There are quite a number of things that one might say about this evening, but not all are unpleasant. For all that Spock has remained in large part an observer to the festivities, his primary interest in being here has been twofold: 1. to ensure that Jim manages to make his way home without issue, 2. that he might metaphorically "seize the ear" of the man who has so advertised his services to begin with.

Previous and current circumstances aside, Spock has kept himself busy in the interim. Whether it be by occasionally imploring Jim to imbibe something other than vodka, studying traditional Human bar games, or burying himself in what looks to be rather complicated schematics in (yet another) notebook, it doesn't much matter. In the end, it is when Claude is otherwise not engaged or flocked about, that Spock takes the opportunity to insinuate himself. ]

I believe I have procured something that may interest you.

[ As much of a greeting as any, but certainly a clear explanation of why Spock has waited so long to approach his table. He looks no different from the last time they conversed, but there is a peculiar tension in the way he holds his shoulders, the way he cants his head. His hands similarly have not come to rest as they so often do at the small of his back, but have instead looped themselves about the strap of the canvas bag he has taken with him this evening. More curious, his fingers and palms are covered in thin, semi-opaque fabric.

It isn't something that goes entirely with the dark, civilian wear, but seems to suit him regardless.

Either way, he won't sit down unless he's invited to. ]

aerith gainsborough | final fantasy vii | ota

[everblooms]

a; i'm enveloped by the stars

[ Early in the evening, a woman in a simple dress arrives. Wrapped in a dusty shade of pink, she bears flowers in her hair that smell headily. The perfume of the florals mixes with the scents wafting from the hookahs, fruit flavors hanging in the air even thicker than cigar smoke. She loiters by the smoke, perched on a high seat, sandaled feet dangling. She's very small, but there's a glimmer in Aerith's lifestream green gaze that invites conversation, communicating that she has all the time in the world for you...

...Because she's looking to make a sale. ]

Smell nice, don't they? The flowers? [ From the crown of her skull, she pulls one yellow tulip. It's small enough to be tucked into a pocket, behind an ear. A token of affection, a love bite. ] They make a lovely gift, or outfit accessory. Could give it to someone here... or keep it for yourself so they'll never forget you. I won't tell on you! Oh, and I'll give you a nice price for a bundle of them, if you like.

b; and i want you as you are

[ Recognition happens as often as rain fall in Aldrip these days. It'd be her own fault if not for the fact that it was a different woman who grew up on the cobblestone streets of the city before, a woman with a tougher streak in her and a brattier smile. That woman gets noticed still, from time to time, a drunken suitor or two with a song request. Sing your tune, songbird. The woman who looks over to you now has a softened stare, the corners of her mouth drawn straight and thoughtful. Aerith looks at you with a thought forming in her mind, stitching itself together like atoms snapping into one another. She blinks. ]

You don't play any instruments, do you?

[ The karaoke is nice, and Aerith would use it in any other situation, but she's looking for something that's not on the machine, you see. ]

c; take me easily so far ( with cloud strife )

[ The stretch of the dancefloor fills with bodies as the night crawls on, as it is wont to do. What else do you use a dancefloor for? The cleared away seats line the room in constellations, pockets of chairs cloistered together like stars. A pair of them find the edge of the bare ground, where feet pound to the tune of the music. A pop song. The bar becomes a discotheque when the moon hangs high in the sky.

Two chairs sit, side by side, occupied by two people. The woman speaks, projecting her voice like an old timey radio host. ] I say, Cloud, quite the turn out, quite the turn out this night. All these couples and solo performances, just as unique as the last. An unforgettable night! But now you'll see Landbiscuit and Seacookie performing their legendary hip twist and heel stomp. The night's still young, though. Look at Potoooooo doing a jig! Oh, I think he's caught the attention of Citation Needed over in the corner. Well, what do you think? Who do you think will take home the gold tonight?

[ Next to the woman, the blonde-haired man puts on a similar affectation to his voice. ] Well, Aerith, you and I have seen more than our fair share of performances in our time but I gotta say I don't think we've ever had so much talent on display as we have tonight. As soon as I settle on one of our guests out on the dance floor, another catches my eye. Is it Mild and Wild performing the tango? The [ He makes a small 'ahem' noise ] 'belly dance' we saw Phantasia perform...? I just haven't been able to pick out a clear frontrunner, it truly could be anybody's night.

d; as i can dance to your guitar

[ for prompt c, this is a threeway thread! you'll get a tag from aerith or cloud (identitycrisiscore), then the other. we'll keep on rolling that'a way, afterwards. on the flipside, if none of these are appealing to you: that's okay! you can hit aerith up with your own prompt. she will definitely play around with the karaoke machine through out the night, and is a known singer. she loiters at the bar and usually orders something nonalcoholic, but can be spotted with a fruit little cocktail through out the evening. she's not a smoker but she can be entertained by the conversation that happens when you sit and smoke together. finally, aerith likes to dance with people. she can be eased into a slow dance, but she's much more likely to enjoy a good pop routine.

on that note, you can contact me to plot, too! i'm reachable through pm, or a private plurk @ hagclub. ♥ ]

a

[grappler]

[she's not really a flower person. not encountering many of them back home, she finds herself staring at them anyway. she'll never quite get used to seeing these sorts of things so easily, probably.

but she could get one for Caitlyn. or more than one.]

Didn't really think much about wearing flowers before.

[she looks at the tulip for a minute.]

I mean... that'd look nice. In someone's hair.

[she suddenly gets awkward as she says it, because she's totally not thinking about someone right now who would look pretty with it behind her ear.]

a

[snowslip]

They're lovely. I could put them in the dining room. Or gift them to others...

[ Marianne leans forward, very much taken in by her sales pitch. If the fragrance that followed the flower peddler in hadn't turned her head already, her friendly demeanor certainly has. This isn't her usual hangout, and Marianne had been feeling out of sorts in the crowd, electing to sit quietly to the side and listen, but she finds herself relaxing a little in Aerith's presence. ]

b

[baldrshand]

An instrument? [Ethlyn looks surprised.] Well... I did learn the harpsichord, but it's been a good few years since I actually played it.

[Translation: she was made to take harpsichord lessons and it was all that the late Lady Chalphy could do to keep her at the instrument before Ethlyn ran off to practice swords or something suitably active and less fiddly.]

rafal | fire emblem engage | ota

[nilhilistic]

( i. drinks with a dragon )

[ rafal has never cared for this. humans like to drink, he knows. it’s an activity they partake in often. pandreo and a few others from solm often set up a tent in the night, build up a large bonfire, toasting and drinking. solm prized their freedom and celebrated it on the desert sands. the other royals tend to make it more of an opulent gathering, with nobles and dukes.

this is a modern world. such barriers no longer exist. he scrunches up his nose at some of the drinks, but eventually he does ask. ]

Which one is the sweetest? I’ll have that one.

[ he has no interest in anything that’s not sweet. ]

( ii. the secret of strength )

[ none of the games truly appeal to him. he doesn’t understand the purpose of fun and enjoyment. to him, it feels like encouraging weakness to creep in, to dull your abilities.

and yet, he is also learning he’s not always right. and neither was his father. so he clears the table, propping up his elbow. ]

A test of strength. Let us wrestle.

[ there’s a gleam in his eyes that suggests he won’t go easy. he is, after all, a dragon. ]

( iii. dragons don’t dance )

[ when the dancing and singing begins, rafal inches closer and closer to the wall. this is certainly not the kind of activity he can picture himself enjoying at all. this is definitely left to humans and their ilk. he ducks his head, hoping not to be noticed. once spotted, he scowls, crossing his arms and looking petulant. ]

No. I will not make a fool of myself.

( iv. wildcard )

[ got a prompt in mind? dm this journal / hit me up @ timmtams ]

ii

[grappler]

[listen. you won't have to ask her twice for something like that.

she sits across from him, also propping up her elbow.]

Let's go, pretty boy.

i

[everblooms]

[ The bar is hardly empty. A crowd of people have gathered here, a whole congregation just for a drink. It reminds Aerith of hot summers under the plate, neighbors pressing closer to a lemonade stand run by the kids from the orphanage. Spare gil for refreshing glass, the kind of heat that made your sweat stick to your body, sunlight pooling over the flowerbed in the church. In comparison, there's something a little gauche about the bar, but she smiles anyway. It may not be her that he speaks to, but it is Aerith who replies. ]

Honestly? Probably a Shirley Temple. It's lemon soda with cherry juice. Very sweet.

[ Tilting her head over to the stranger, Aerith laces her fingers together as she slips onto a stool, feet swinging back and forth as they hang. ] Not a drnker, are you? It's okay, me neither. I used to order hot tea at the bars when I went. Claude's was the best.

iii.

[snowslip]

[ Rafal isn't the only one inching towards the wall. Marianne had come to the event wishing to support Claude in his community-building endeavors. As a noble she understands the importance of connections, her adoptive father has always emphasized as much, but social functions will never be her forte. She wrings her hand when scowled at and attempts to explain herself. ]

Um, I was hoping to sit this out, too.

i

[traumaticus]

[Richard is hardly someone one would call a social butterfly. Thorough his life he's always preferred to seclude away from others, take refuge in shadows and find comfort in solitude. But he's also very much aware that he can't have that luxury here as he found himself lacking the power, status and wealth he had back at home. In order to survive one needs to adapt and all that. So yeah, Richard makes it his business to visit these establishments every now and then, slowly building bonds and learning about the culture.

So, when he sees the fair haired man at the counter requesting something sweet it actually brings him some pride and satisfaction. Not only is there another fish out of water, so to speak, but that he also knows how to aid the man in his quest. ]

Try strawberry margarita.

miller | metro | ota

[melnik]

[ The complacency. It is impossible to fight it back. From his first steps along the cobblestone into the former Aldrip to the month-long stint of believing they’d originated here to now, Miller has resisted it all every step of the way. Yet even he has come to realize that they cannot live with their hackles raised twenty-four seven, try as he might to keep that energy going. While he continues to brew resentment for it, this is a long game now. It has probably always been that way and he was one of the only few unwilling to accept it.

But he has met some like minds, or at least some he tolerates, some he hasn't given up hope for just yet. The young Duke von Riegan here is one of them – so, that being said? Fuck it. Maybe he can use this little shindig he's prepared to find more, or maybe it will really only amount to allowing himself indulgence in so plentiful of a supply of alcohol and tobacco that it would his crew come to blows in jealousy. It's too bad they aren't here to share it with. Either way, the point is that he's cajoled himself into attending. ]

i.
[ One can find him making conversation at the bar. In fact, he'll greet anyone he recognizes and ask for a status report or introduce himself to anyone he doesn't. Granted, should the attendee he approaches be looking to simply take a load off and enjoy a beer for once, the often interrogatory tone or refusal to do that may understandably not be the most welcome...

Think questions like "Have you been summoned recently?" or "Any news, my friend?"

A man can try. ]

ii.
[ Later into the night, however, perhaps the hookah has loosened him up, because he seems more willing to sit back and just enjoy whoever stumbles onto the karaoke stage next. There’s even a bit of rhythmic handclapping to encourage anyone who has the courage to perform.

Speaking of, why hasn't [ your character ] gone up there yet? At the tail end of someone else's song, Miller slaps a hand on their back. ]

Go on. You're up next.

i.

[conflictresolution]

[Silco was a late arrival, and it was completely purposeful. His previous month had ended poorly and this one was showing signs of being any better, so he had been more reclusive than usual. However, he wasn't willing to avoid a mingle to spy on people, even if his entry had come with him standing in the shadows assessing the situation before he moved to the bar to get himself a drink.

He was pouring a single malt whiskey into a tumbler when had to pause at Millar's familiar voice. His lips remained a thin line, and he purposefully raised the glass to his lips for a sip before he decided how he would answer the simple question.]

Business remains as usual. [His tone was not open to debate the statement nor did it welcome prying questions. His voice was also scratchier than usual.] You seem to be well. A booth?

[He gestured to one of the empty booths where people could converse but also smoke. Janna only knew he needed to destroy his lungs more after decades of tormenting them.]

i

[feintofhart]

Ah, Miller! So glad that you could make it!

[ Claude is not beside Miller -- quite the opposite, he's actually beaming at him from behind the bar. ]

I've taken the liberty of manning things back here so that everything goes smoothly. And so nobody starts guzzling vodka by the barrelful, [ he says, flashing the man a wink, quick as can be. ] What can I get for you?

ii.

[quizpersona]

[ For a good reason he tends not to make an appearance to these sort of things without there being a specific reason to steal the show. Comes with the background as a international terrorist. So really, he's planning to be here for a whole 15 minutes at most... It just so happens that Miller gets a little too close to that karaoke set up while Nikolai is lounging on his side in a booth nearby in wait (to ambush the unsuspecting).

One of those stripe adorned legs hangs off the edge of the booth, while the other remains bent. Looks pretty comfy with everything considered. Mishief shines in his visible eye and Nikolai whistles to draw in attention as he notices Miller not getting on the stage himself. ]

The show is about to begin! Ohhh, now this one looks promising. [ Yes, Miller, without actually sitting up further he's waving an arm around before pointing it your way. ] Come on, sing us a real classic!

matt murdock | spider-gwen | ota!

[notthekingpin]

at the bar

[ Matt starts his evening at the bar itself, as tempting as it is to just sit in a booth and wait for people to come to him. He doesn't have that reputation here, he's not the kind of person criminals show up to pay fealty to. At least, not yet. So at the bar it is, nursing a vodka collins and waiting to strike up a conversation with whoever ends up sitting next to him. ]

It's a great idea, isn't it? Trying to get us out without all the threats?

[ Look at that, disdain for their captors, right on tap. That's the kind of thing that brings people together, isn't it?]

pump up the jam.

Hey, excuse me, can you help me with this?

[ He nods at the sound system, which, frustratingly, he cannot use. His phone is set up with all the accessibility stuff, but he gets why some random bar doesn't have the same thing. ]

This is very important. I need you to find the 1983 Technotronic hit "Pump Up the Jam." It'll get the party going.

[ this is actually scientific fact ]

wildcard

[ come at him! he won't be singing karaoke but he will judge anyone who does ]

pump up that jam

[paragonknight]

[ What's this? Someone in a time of need? A need for someone to sweep in an complete a 'very important' task? A literal knight gracefully abandons his beverage at the counter and sweeps in to do just that. ]

Allow me to assist you.

[ While he moves quite elegantly there's no stopping the clinking and clanking of his very real armour as Argenti approaches. Kind of seems like a walking anachronism who shouldn't know how to work the technology and yet... In a matter of moments there it is blasting from the speakers. He takes a moment to very seriously contemplate it. ]

The beat is very catchy. Does it hold any symbolism or perhaps a tale otherwise untold?