061 ± [visual / location: the black friar] done with all the circlin' round

[aintnoconvict]

"All right, I'll try and make this quick:"

Glitch? Getting to the point in a reasonable amount of time? Is it possible?

"For those who don't know me: my name's Glitch, I'm that guy who's been here since forever and kinda know the most about all the...stuff that goes on here. Sorta."

No, no it is not.

"Anyway, ah...I've been studying the lighthouse and found some peculiarities with the light-beam thingy which I wanna discuss with everyone. Or most of you, if you can make it. Plus there was that whole hanging out and having drinks thing which I mentioned before all the stuff north of the river happened-- hey we can talk about that too."

Yeah he is taking notes now, all frowny and confuzzled.

"Right! Unless you've got something drastic going on, let's meet at the Black Friar after sundown for the...sunlight-avoidant. First round of drinks is on me. See you later."


ooc: Gathering of the citizens! This is a mingle log so tag in, tag each other, frolic away. I will be adding a tag of Glitch discussing his Very Scientific Observations and there will e a Q&A to follow which I hope will e full of threadjacking. And here havesome pub details. Go go go!

Comments

[imperial_long]

Long slinks in wearing an air of discontent like he wears his coat. Normally he is an amiable attendee of any of Taxon's social gatherings-- if nothing else they provide ample opportunity to people-watch-- but in truth he would rather be in his hotel room having a fine sulk contemplating the fickle nature of their captors and/or the universe, which gives with the right hand and taketh away with the left. This contemplation would be best eased and lubricated by a fine Scotch.

However, Glitch has asked, and because it is Glitch asking, Long has bestirred himself and donned layers of clothes against the winter and is now sidling on inside and wondering to what extent it would be poor form were he to visit that rather attractive and gleaming bar first (and what lovely long lines of bottles, also gleaming), before settling in to listen to the Talking.

Either way, he is here. To be cornered, greeted, or anything else.

[hasaheart]

Cain elbows the front door open, gets his foot hooked 'round the edge of it, and pulls it open far enough that he can slip into the warm indoors. Why elbows and heels of boots, you ask: he comes bearing goods. He carries a picnic style basket in one hand (from which the unmistakable aromas of bread and cheese and ham and is that sun dried tomatoes(?) come wafting). He promised he'd bring something, and he did.

In the other hand is a small, neatly wrapped parcel (green wrapping, and an even brighter green bow) with his best friend's name on it. Figuratively and literally speaking.

Once he's found a place to leave his basketful of tasty treats and seen his Annual's End gift safely to his friend, well, there's only one thing left to do, which he's notoriously bad exactly good at.

Mingle.

[thepersianyouth]

Ever wonder why you didn't notice a certain braceleted person of very Mediterranean looks walk through the door? He sits very near the center of proceedings, with glossy waves aspiring to be curls atop his head, and dangling green earrings, and a bright blue kaftan and pants, and intricately painted hands. He should be hard to miss.

The answer is simple: he got here early. Very early indeed.

consider all mine placeholder tags, busy weekend coming up

[whyfearthedark]

Nuada arrives at the Black Friar as he does every other place he goes: with as little pomp and ceremony as possible. That he is visually striking is not something he'll make excuse for, and should one or two of the Extra patrons at the bar cower in his presence, well, that is hardly his problem.

As little as he cherishes the thought of associating with humans, as intrigued is he by Glitch's findings. As far as he's concerned, this is more a matter of business than anything else.

[aintnoconvict]

And by being there very early he's the first person Glitch sees when he arrives, and is greeted with a sigh and a smile. It's comforting and just nice and that blue is always perfect ad he can't help reaching out to gently tug one of those curls.

Glitch is dressed conservatively (for him), black trousers, green shirt, and a black vest with white embroidery. There might be some red henna stains on his fingertips, and his eyes might be a bit lined so they "pop" more, but he's otherwise unadorned.

"You're very on time," he remarks and glances to the light still streaming through the stained glass windows before looking back. "Hello."

SOME TIME LATER

[aintnoconvict]

Once everyone he assumes is coming is gathered, Glitch makes his way to stand beside the hearth, drink (an Old Fashioned, his second of the evening) in hand.

"Everyone, can I have your attention? Just a few moments, please." Once he's decided that's happened he does a quick, jerky nod and continues. "I wanna start by saying thank you for coming, it's...not often we get together like this but I think it's important, and maybe we should do it more often."

He looks around and nods again, more certainly this time. "As many of you know the city's rearranged itself. I can tell you this is at least the second time it's done this, though this is the most drastic. For one thing, the size is considerably smaller. Dunno what this means, other than getting around is easier, but that's not my main concern.

"What is my main concern is the lighthouse. That is also new, and very...we can't get into it, as far as I can tell. But more importantly: the light-beacon thing, there's more to it. I looked at it through ultraviolet lenses and noticed a fluctuation when the beam went out to sea, and when I tried through ruby quartz lenses the same fluctuations were evident but had different properties. I don't no any more than that, I'll need to go up there and get a better look but...that'll take doing. If anyone wants to help out, I'd appreciate it."

There, that's the sciencing out of the way.

"The other major change in the city is the whole...thing in the north. I didn't spend much time there, so if you want to share your experiences with everyone now'd be a good time to do it."

[aintnoconvict]

Yeah Glitch is going to come sauntering over to investigate and say hi.

"Hi," he says with a smile, one arm out to take the basket from his friend. "I...kinda forgot the whole potluck aspect, but again I'm buying the first round." Then he eyes the package and grimaces a little. "Okay I kinda forgot a few things but there was science. Sorry."

[skinandbone]

It's his very first gathering in Taxon, and he's late. But Metody has a good reason; he was at a bath house, cleaning himself and the inside of his suit. The humid air in the bath house extended the drying process, and he may have fallen asleep at some point, but look, here he is, scrubbed clean and..still smelling of steel mills. But at least he tried.

He hesitates at the doorway, startled by the dark, heavy interior, then slips up to the back of the group.

[hasaheart]

"Hey," Cain replies, handing over the basket and seeing the chance of adding a one-armed hug to the proceedings, he runs with that idea.

"Say no more. Here," he adds, placing the neatly wrapped gift box on top of the white-and-blue checkered cloth. "Open it whenever you want, but..." He shrugs, and his eyebrows mimic the motion. "Before I forget: it's to remind you of your past, so you can go forward in the new annual."

The words said, according to their Ozian ways, Wyatt tips his hat and heads for the bar. Cider might be nice. It's been ages since he last had a proper cider.

In the box itself, there's a round, flat wood carving much more stylized and less detailed than the picture reference of the olden times O.Z logotype - the capital O and Z intertwined as if there never was and never would be so much as a punctuation mark between them.

[trojanhorst]

Two men show up together: one dressed fashionably, the other more conservative. The first one through the door is dark-haired, all smiles: Horst Brauer, to those who know him. The man following just after him is a shade shorter, fair-haired, and evincing no smiles whatsoever, but for all their dissimilarities, Horst and Johannes Cabal share enough features in common that the outside observer might recognize them as relations. At the door, they briefly exchange words, but with a few glances around them that say neither of them considers this the place for a lengthy discussion -- after that, they part ways, going to their separate pursuits.

Horst mingles in among the little crowd, offering brief, warm hellos to people he knows enough to smile at, glancing back to check on his brother between conversations. Here and there, he stops in a corner to watch the people around him, nursing a drink from the bar and studying the little social groups and details of relationships that crop up in the conversations in front of him. These two are close, those two are avoiding each other, that one is alone... This is his first opportunity to see a gathering of this many of the city's captive residents. He'd best make the most of it.

[personaldemon]

Jason Blood didn't particularly want to come; what else is new. But there's only so much staying at home one can do, and besides, he might see Remus Lupin, and he has something in the Gladstone bag that he wishes Lupin to see, so...

He takes a seat in a corner, listening to Glitch talk with his usual neutral anti-socializing face in place.

jeremy is useless.

[kings_fool]

Jeremy lifts a hand and waves it around like this is class and Glitch is the teacher. If Glitch makes any indication that he can talk, he'll take it.

"This, uh, lighthouse beam thing, is it possible it is gamma-radiated energy and it'll turn you into the Impossible Bulk?"

[smecker]

Paul Smecker gives pale-but-brightly-dressed a little nod from over the rim of his coffee cup.

"We don't bite," he says at Metody lurking at the edges. "...well, most of us don't. Hi."

Vaguely familiar-- memories from the high school glitch-- but Paul knows he was pretty far from himself during that so it stands to reason other people might not have been either. "It's Metody, right?"

[skinandbone]

Metody ducks his head at being noticed, but edges forward. A little. Ever so very a little.

"Metody, yes. And you're - " and there is a cringingly embarrassing moment as he gropes for a name. During the glitch, all he saw was the surface aspect of people - their skin, their hair, their body language. Now that his vision is working properly again, what he sees is the bones first and the flesh second, and that makes figuring out who is who a bit tricky.

" - Paul..?"

[smecker]

"Got it in one," Paul says half-into-his-mug, and has another sip. "Plus about thirty years, but what the hell."

He gives Metody a surreptitious once-over from the corner of his eye. Metody does not seem to have aged much, but is a hell of a lat paler without layers of bright colors on the skin as well. Interesting wardrobe choice, too.

"You want anything to drink?"

[skinandbone]

"The same goes for me - well. More like ten. But still. I think I miss being a teenager in some ways." A wistful look crosses his face. He'd woken up with his back locked, likely from sleeping on a stone floor in a cave. Surely eighteen year old him could have handled that just fine.

"I...is there juice?"

[smecker]

"God, I don't."

Paul leans back on the stool until his back is against the bar, and shrugs. "Probably. I'm sure they keep some on hand as a mixer for cocktails, most bars have to. Although this one's old-mannish enough it might not."

Paul cranes his head around and fires off some staccato questions at the Extra bartender. It appears they have OJ and pineapple juice, at least.

[skinandbone]

"Seventeen year old me could handle winter a little better." Possibly because he wasn't jam-packed with poisons, Metody.

Metody's eyes light up at the mention of the exotic juices. "Pineapple?!" At least it's a quiet exclamation. "I would love some!"

He won't taste it much and it'll blow through his grocery budget, but who cares? Pineapple!

[smecker]

Paul gives Metody a little half-blink at the quiet-but-practically-squee'd enthusiasm at the mention. Oh-kay, pineapple juice it is.

He twists on the bar seat again, waves his braceletted wrist rudely towards the bartender until it dings-- he's not trying to be particularly generous, per se, but newbies get some freebies as far as he's concerned and anyway he's closer to the bar-- and he reaches back to hook a finger around the resulting juice glass, bring it back, and offer it over.

"Cheers, then. You're twenty-seven?" Slight skepticism.

[skinandbone]

Metody's head snaps back and forth as she looks between the two men. She's terrible at recognizing details in pictures - what with the lack of bones, they look fundamentally artificial to her - but in person, she can see the similarities between the two.

And the difference. Only one of them looks dead.

Perhaps it's something Horst did to himself, then, as a kind of disguise or camouflage, and Johannes didn't feel the need? Or maybe it's a natural variation, like blue eyes or red hair, and one brother just didn't get it?

Finally, she realizes how obvious she's being, and sheepishly lifts a hand to give them a little wave of greeting.

[skinandbone]

"Oh - oh, gosh, thanks." This is a bit startling. He'll have to get Paul something nice in return, once he knows what he likes. Or maybe pineapple juice is easier to get here? He's already seen all kinds of fruit in unnatural season.

"Thirty, actually. I know - I look a bit younger."

[smecker]

Paul shrugs away the thanks, digging out his cigarettes even as he slides the glass to Metody. "Yeah, don't mention it."

There's a whiff of-- something-- when he slides the glass over, which Paul notes, files away with a slight tightening of his mouth, it's a smell that evokes the word chemotherapy in his head. He lights his cigarette to help cover the scent.

"You do look younger," he says neutrally. "Immortal?"

They've got enough of those running around Taxon, after all. It's a legit question.

[skinandbone]

" - what?" In what world is that even a possib- Paul's world, apparently. Metody takes the glass, wide-eyed.

"Golly, no, I wish. I had some work done on my face after an accident, and since I'm so pale now...it's trompe l'oeil youth, I'm afraid."

[smecker]

"Ahh," Paul says, accepting that. The smoothness of surgery, alright. In a way he's almost disappointed that it's something so mundane; Taxon has numbed him to just about everything weird that would once have left his poor human psyche screaming protest.

Anyway he's just as happy you're not a vampire, pale Metody. Paul's had ~experiences~ with vampires.

Though the thought of a vampire who says 'golly, no' does sort of make him smile into his coffee mug.

"How long have you been here now? I know you were here before we all became Callow Youth Once More, but I don't believe I'd said hi."

[skinandbone]

Yes, surgery. It's all surgery. Yes.

"I arrived...gosh, I guess two or three days before the change? Something like that. I was a bit disoriented at the time."

Paul has been carrying the conversation, and it's high time Metody made a bit of effort. "I'm a - back home, I was a grad student. What'd you grow up to be?"