16691/Speak Easy But Socializing Hard

Speak Easy But Socializing Hard
Date of Scene:	28 December 2023
Location:	Harlem's Speakeasy
Synopsis:	A godling and a Kree warrior go to a speakeasy
Cast of Characters:	Alexander Aaron, Noh-Varr

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Alexander Aaron has posed:
    There is something to be said to getting out and about on one's own after a time. Constraints grow out of socialization, being around others, building relationships. And sometimes... a soul must rebel against those constraints. Which might well explain why on this particular late Thursday night deep in the depths of Harlem's social experiment in a place called the Speakeasy, why Alexander Aaron had darkened its doorway.
    It had been a while since he had enjoyed moving with a crowd, around the edges of the dance floor, reading the subtle ebb and flow of fear, anxiety, stress. All of those faint hints of the social interplay between young men and women indulging in the hunt for one vice or another.
    Though he did not seek to partake too much so, it was... enjoyable on a level for the young Olympian to be amongst the vibrant night life. Moreso even to reach the bar and order a drink, mainly wishing to people watch... and listen in on the occasional conversation as well.

Noh-Varr has posed:
Likewise out of place is one Noh-Varr of the 18th Kree Diplomatic Gestalt.

It's not as much that he *looks* out of place... He was quite careful and precise in his research on what one wears to a Speakeasy. He's in dark trousers, white shirt-sleeves, bowtie, and the requisite suspenders and newsboy cap. And he seems sociable enough as he walks in, bright green eyes looking around with interest as if he had never been in a bar before, and he makes his way to the bar. "Barkeep!" He asks, voice carrying as he scratches a silver stubble-clad cheek. "Give me a double!"

Which, of course, makes the bartender blink at him and ask the obvious question, "Um... double what?"

Noh-Varr blinks, mouth agape. And responds with, "... alcohol?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Like an active sonar ping sounding in the middle of a naval exercise in contested waters, so much attention is leveled upon poor Noh-Varr. Eyes follow him, laughs are given, but also gentle and even some bashful smiles. There's no shortage of flirtatious glances, nor amused looks, although the bartender's is likely not amongst them. Instead he sort of gives the newcomer a once-over, down then back up, then shakes his head. At times like this his choic of what to serve is often colored by his mood and in this moment... that mood is foul.
    For Noh-Varr is given a double of vodka and then told, "Twenty bucks." As the man awaits his money, still holding the drink. While up and down the bar other tenders deal with the other incoming orders.
    Alexander, however, is paying his own attention. Angling it Noh-Varr's way. Not quite flirtatious, nor overly intrigued, but curious. For it's rare to sense a person wandering in such circles and being a zero sum to his senses. Someone without a hint of fear nor anxiety. Which makes him all the more curious.

Noh-Varr has posed:
The barkeep was angry. So angry, his ears steamed. What a dump, the young, handsome Kree soldier thought to himself, min a sepia toned inner monologue. Why, he ordered a double, on the rocks!

"Nonsense." Noh-Varr says, rolling his shoulders to square them up and lifting his chin juuuuust so, so that the light hits his cheekbones and makes his jawline look silver-gilt. "I ordered a double. I shall only pay 10 dollars. And where are the rocks?" He lifts his glass, eying it before shaking his head. "Clearly you need to watch more YouTube." He shakes his head, sadly, and slips a twenty to the bartender. "Keep the change, toots."

The barkeep, an older gentleman with muttonchops and a bald spot, just *stares* at Noh-Varr, and then demands. "ID."

After a few moments, that gets settled and he leans back again, lifting his drink and taking a sip. He nods in approval. "The joint was dark, the alcohol was weak, but still he sat in the light, wondering... What was a classy dame like him doing in a shithole like this?"

The Bartender frowns. "Nolan, sir, if you keep this up I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

'

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Are you doing a Mike Hammer thing or like... a Newsies thing?" Alexander's voice lifts enough to filter in during one of those small respites, though the white noise of the club threatens to drown it out, yet it isn't unlikely Noh-Varr would hear him.
    Another youth. Blond as well, though his looks were different. He had this California Boy Next Door thing going on, though the eyes were different than most of the Earthers he's likely seen running around. To the locals they might consider those irises alien-like. But that smile, when he smiled it caused his features to light up with warmth.
    "There's a positive for either, no judgement here."

Noh-Varr has posed:
Apparently the bartender has decided that 'Nolan' is a waste of his time and moved on to greener pastures. Noh-Varr shakes his head as if the bartender were the unreasonable one. "Peaky Blinders by way of Jackie Collins." He answers a bit ruefully, although he remains absolutely devoid of fear to the Olympian scion's senses.

He's handsome too, if a bit more 'Euro-Trash' with the silver hair and cheekbones, although his expression is equally easy-going as he turns towards Alexander.

An in his inner monologue: 'The fella was a tall drink of water, no doubt, and with the bartender having screwed the pooch with the handsome Kree soldier's drink he was thirsty. What's a fella like you doin' in a place like this?

"What's a fella like you doin' in a place like this?" Noh-Varr echoes, lifting his drink in salute before taking a swallow as he leans back with utter confidence and a disarming grin. "I heard speakeasies had a dress code, and are best experienced... ah... in character?" He glances around, and frowns. "So far, a disappointing experience. No one has offered me a cigarette and the bartender said they were banned indoors."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh yeah, method suffers from social mores." Alexander answers, agreeing with the other youth's decrying of the people and the lack of dedication toward the setting.
    But then he looks a little past and to the side of Noh-Varr before those eyes return to the alien's gaze. He tilts his head slightly to the side in what might pass for a half-shrug amongst those of a particularly lazy mien. He answers, "I had a few hours rarely to myself and I thought to wander toward a place that felt like a decently large gathering." Which might be a curiously honest answer.
    Then he elaborates, "My lack of plan in turn explains my failure to dedicate to a character." He looks a little to the side, eyebrow quirking.
    "I'm not one for costumes much." Which might not be entirely true. But the fact he's there in the casual uniform of the West speaks volumes. That uniform, of course, being blue jeans, sneakers, a black t-shirt, and a dark grey jacket.

Noh-Varr has posed:
"Smores? Isn't that chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers? I hear they are a fairly popular social activity among children at 'camp'." Noh-Varr raises one eyebrow, as if concerned by the strange man he's talking to and his grasp of reality. He takes another drink of vodka, nodding as Alexander offers an explanation.

"Well, it seems as if I'm more the outlier with my apparel." Noh-Varr chuckles, as he nods towards the bartender and taps his glass to indicate another... And then nods towards Alexander. That's what people do, right? Buy each other drinks and bitch about how things are these days? "But it is flattering." He adds, smirking as he squares his shoulders, flexing the muscles on chest and back against the fabric. He chuckles, pleased with himself, and adds, "I am fond of jeans and t-shirts, though. Comfortable, practical. I'm Noh... lan." The name is given a touch awkwardly, but then again, it's probably not the first time someone's given Alexander a fake name. He glances around the bar. "I do like the ambiance here. Reminds me of a film noir set, but stinkier." That last is said just as the bartender arrives, and he gives an offended look that Noh-Varr ignores as he pours Noh-Varr another double of vodka. Alexander is given a raised eyebrow as if the bartender were asking if he wanted Noh-Varr bounced or accept that offer for a drink.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "No, mores. it's like... another word for customs or manners?" Alexander's eyes lift upwards and to the riight, as if searching into the depths of his own mind to discover if he had the right of it. But then he seems to come up empty, yet that doesn't seem to bother him. He just looks back at Noh-Varr and smiles with a shrug.
    "Nolan." He repeats the name offered to him and Alexander returns in like as he offers a hand. That done, and if accepted he'll give a good shake. Not aggressive, more just three times and done. "Alexander. Or Alex, if we're to be friends." As if it was an option to not be.
    He gives a nod of thanks to the bartender, then smiles and lifts the double vodka and hefts it to Noh-Varr in a thanks given there as well. "So what brings you here? Observing the culture or had you a goal of some kind?"

Noh-Varr has posed:
"I enjoy socializing with all types." Noh-Varr says easily with a grin. His own grip is strong, callused... The hand of a warrior, as plain as day to the Son of Ares. Hell, given his own history in training he can tell that the calluses are the sort that come from wielding weapons as soon as they can be lifted, martial as well as ranged. And he's strong... At least as strong as Alexander, although he doesn't push once he establishes a comfortable grip

Handshakes were originally a way for people to size each other up, after all, and Noh-Varr's tells a curious story. "A friend of mine suggested a bathhouse, but I decided I preferred to keep my clothes on. A pleasure to meet you, Alex."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Ah," Alexander's own grip is firm, but curiously the callous is there though it's likely not as prominent. Could as likely be from perhaps playing many rounds of tennis as opposed to wielding weapons, though the young Olympian's story is not so easily discerned. And his manner is similar to the other young man's, that same hint of unflappable ease. "Sounds like a friend. Or more perhaps a _friend_," He ever so subtly emphasizes the word though might well be missed for having done so.
    "I used to enjoy socializing more, but of late I've found my attentions wandering." He quirks an eyebrow thoughtfully as his gaze slips slightly over Noh-Varr's shoulder, as if espying someone or envisioning some spectre. He then looks back and smiles, "Perhaps just getting older. That's a thing right? Going out less and less? The path of the curmudgeon."

Noh-Varr has posed:
"We had sex, if that's what you're asking." Noh-Varr seems more amused than offended by the rather personal question, his body language remaining relaxed and easy as he drinks from his vodka as if it were water. "But I do believe we are only friends." He shrugs one shoulder, as if it were no big deal to him. And he eyes Alexander, adding, "If you're looking for that, maybe later. I'm told we should at least share drinks first, maybe even laugh at jokes before propositioning?"

In a rather jarring shift of the conversation he chuckles when Alexander mentions growing older. "Ah, yeah, so I'm told. Among my..." People "... Family, we allow much freedom in youth, but as we get older our focus becomes less on learning about ourselves and more a focus on the overall collective." He frowns, consideringly, at his drink. "I'm a little... far... from home, though. Companionship makes me feel a little less alone, yeah?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "That... wasn't entirely what I was meaning." Alexander's manner is still at ease as he shakes his head slightly, smiling a little. "More it would take a stronger friend to suggest a foray into a bath house." A pause, then he adds, "Or, to be fair, not a friend at all depending." Though he doesn't elaborate on that particular train of thought, likely being his own worst enemy at helping others fully understand his words so given.
    Then his smile widens as he holds up a hand, "But alas, no. I'm afraid I am not available for such indulgence. I'm..." He pauses and his brow furrows as if it was rare for him to say as much that the sound of the words surprise him. "I am engaged in a relationship and have given my word. But... as you say, it is good to take solace and comfort with friends as you can."
    He turns now more to face Noh-Varr directly, listening to the words and insight given, speaking about his difficulties with being away from those he'd call his. A nod is given then he asks, "How far from home? Australia?"

Noh-Varr has posed:
"Fair enough." Noh-Varr says easily with a grin that shows no ill feelings at being turned down, "I'm no poacher, no matter how fine the game." And he grins at Alexander, clearly comfortable flirting ever so slightly even if his body language make it very clear it's mostly for show, his green eyes losing the interest that was there in favor of just friendly attention.

"I don't see the appeal of the bathhouse, really. Nudity is nothing to be ashamed about, nor is sex." He flicks his hand dismissively at that. "I know it is a binary world, but sometimes you have to look beyond that and just accept that things *are*, and not label them or give shame to something that is shameless."

When asked about how far from him, he blinks slightly, and rubs the back of his neck. "Ahh... little further than that, Alex." He says, and attempts to switch topics. "So what do you do when you aren't mourning your youth?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Ahh, though there is an argument to be made," Alexander's eyes twinkle slightly, as if the idea of making a counter argument amuses him, not quite a devil's advocate but likely someone from a particular court of evil. "The practice of hedonism can lead to a lack of discipline in some cases, or in turn lead to a shifting of societal 'mores'," His lip twists up as he uses that word again, "That can damage a society if it is still involved in something akin to a contest of nations, or a culture still beset upon by the crucible of Winter."
    Something about those thoughts flitting through his mind, carried on the wings of an angry elder god father, repeated with the devil's own smile on the youth's features. But then as if Noh-Varr had waved a casual red cape to distract him he answers, "Ah as to what I do? I work a bit in security. Though I enjoy fencing mainly." His eyes distance a little, then return again but this time carrying no further words.

Noh-Varr has posed:
"True, which is why the illusion of freedom should be carefully monitored and contained." Noh-Varr says with a nod and a shrug. "Opportunities to rebel in safe, controlled situations that ultimately lead back to the fold. Exploration of sexuality, gender, and other identifiers so that when a commitment is made to service, there is no room for error or deception."

But then Noh-Varr shakes his head, least he reveal a little too much by getting too deeply into the zen fascism of his people. "Fencing as in the enclosures or fencing as in archaic swordplay?" Noh-Varr asks with interest, adding, "I'm personally between jobs. Finding myself, I guess you could say, with enough violence to pay the bills when technology is stubborn."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "The latter." Alexander answers back with casual aplomb about the choice between fences and foils. He smiles and looks along the line of the bar toward the other people so gathered, noting an arrival and departure, then looking back toward the alien visitor. "To be entirely honest I had wandered here because I was looking at real estate in part."
    His smile is wry as he takes another drink of the vodka with a casual quickness that spoke either of a seasoned drinker or someone who just couldn't enjoy the sensations brought with a fine bit of vodka. "Well you are in the city for it, no shortage of technology nor violence." His smile eases as he has that small way of looking through Noh-Varr before those irises refocus. "But I was looking for a studio. I have a job and the like, but I was told I should indulge in something more... selfish." His lips twist a little, as if not enjoying that choice of word, but not wanting to prevaricate.

Noh-Varr has posed:
Blink blink.

Noh-Varr frowns at the choice of words and the emotional reaction from them to his new best friend, considering the other man with serious green eyes before taking another drink. "Selfish among your society tends to have a rather negative connotation." He finally offers, "But it isn't inherently so. If it does not harm others, then why not be 'selfish'." And he air-quotes it, before continuing. "Is not the whole strengthened when the pieces are happy, healthy, and content? Or will this 'studio' take away resources otherwise used for different projects that are better for the whole?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A hand lifts, waggling slightly left and right even as he takes another sip of his drink. He murmurs lightly enough as he leans against the bar, one elbow supporting his weight. "I think it was more just aimed at myself as my significant otherness was..." His lip twists, "Well she was feeling like she had been very selfish, so to ease her guilt she wanted me to be just as selfish perhaps?"
    That said he gives a small shrug, "Though I suppose for me..." He pauses as he seems to be putting the conversational lego pieces together, his brow knitting slightly as he ponders, "It's more practicing for the future? I've been told it's very important to keep oneself busy, to keep oneself engaged in the culture. In the people around you."
    He gives a small shrug and then takes a pretzel from the bowl nearby and pops it into his mouth. "Otherwise you end up closing off and wandering off to hide on some mountaintop for eternity or something."

Noh-Varr has posed:
"Women think like that, sometimes, it's true." Noh-Varr shakes his head sadly, even though as far as Alex can tell his emotional state remains as steady as a sociopath. The advantage of nannites in his blood stream and brain, allowing him to shut off emotional responses. He decided he wants to have a good time? He's going to have a good time. "My ex was like that. All the more so when we were stationed on the same ship, and I was promoted ahead of her." He chuckles, "She threw my clothes out the airlock and I was forced to do my duty naked as the day I was born."

He looks ready to say more, but abruptly cocks his head, as if listening to something only he can hear. "Ah, if you'll excuse me, Alex, I have business to attend to." He gets up, and clasps the other man on the arm. "Good luck, though, and if you ever want to go to a bathhouse, I'll make sure you do not break your vows."