Owner Pose
Jonathan Sims     Those who have keys can get to the place on their own, and those who can't will find keys waiting for them on a table in the main room. The Justice League Dark's new base is a castle in the clouds on the Astral Plane, much of it still unexplored, a castle all in blue and gold with butterfly motifs everywhere. The main room is carpeted and upholstered entirely in blue, much of it velvet, and seems to be, appropriately enough, called the Velvet Room. The piano, unattended, appears to only play one song. The bar, also unattended, appears to provide just about any kind of liquor one can think of. There are couches and chairs, so it's a nice enough spot to gather and relax.

    In this case, the gathering is meant to celebrate the fact that the angelic threat is well and truly gone.

    Saint Michael the Archangel is back guarding the Gates of Heaven and has died and been reborn in a new form that seems much less hostile than the previous one. Chas Chandler is back on Earth, presumably resting after hanging on a door for four months. The first major threat the Justice League Dark faced has been vanquished, and now they can move on to other, presumably less universe-shaking matters. There's no food to be had save for what anyone might have brought, but there's plenty to drink. Anyone who hasn't already been there can presumably get help arriving through someone who has.

    Jonathan Sims sits at the bar, toying with a glass of whiskey and eyeing the piano with a slight frown. He's wearing entirely normal clothing to the Astral for once, a Led Zepplin tour t-shirt from 1971, blue jeans, and sneakers. With his hair dyed purple and the sides and back of his head shaved he looks like he ought to be at a concert instead of celebrating the end of a mystical war--or then again, maybe not. Mystics are a disparate lot. The piano reaches the end of its song, starts again, and he rolls his eyes and takes a drink. If nobody can convince the thing to learn another tune this is going to be the background music of the entire party.
Cael Becker     Cael sits near Jon, the lower levels of her blonde hair dyed purple, blue, and green in its lower layers, and flames tattooed in a single line across the hand that holds her whiskey. At her feet rests a massive white dog in a bright service dog vest - all things that have changed about Cael since the angelic invasion started, and brought about by it in one form or another. She takes another sip of her whiskey, and winces as the song starts again.
    "I should have brought the amulet," she remarks in a dry voice. "Me and the axe could have reduced that thing to kindling."
    She's dressed - unsurprisingly - in a leather jacket, with jeans, and boots. She wears a t-shirt that reads 'No more" across the top, and "to give" across the bottom - with an image of a red fox in the middle.
    On the bar top in front of her is an open container of flat rice noodles - stir fried with a spicy sauce, and with pieces of beef and broccoli mixed in. Setting down her glass, she attacks her noodles with a fork. Several more containers of noodles sit nearby, with descriptors sharpied on top. 'Chicken.' 'Shrimp.' 'Mild.' 'Tofu.'
    Though why anyone would //pick// the tofu one is beyond her.
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia had to hitch a ride to the Velvet Room with Jon, having missed the grand opening. Today she's decided to wear a nice floral print skirt, and a cream colored blouse that slightly offsets her pale alabaster skin. She had spent the early evening baking cinnamon rolls for the party and has brought enough to feed everybody.

    "I wonder if we can teach it other songs," she muses at Jon as she eyes the piano. She's nursing a Manhattan, only occasionally taking a sip here and there, just to taste. Her eyes slide to Cael, "That's another option."
Rien D'Arqueness Using her key, Rien enters the new base, glancing around before sending a sour look towards the piano. "I told you, Jon. That piano is Priority One. Exploration and warding is necessary, but we're all going to go made first if the piano doesn't learn some more songs." She tucks her key away and crosses to the instrument, looking down at the thing before letting out a breath and sitting on the bench. Maybe if she tries to physically play it, it will start to learn something different?

"By the way, I'd like to schedule an appointment with you soon. I'm... doing better but it's still. A lot. Like, a whole lot." She offers a quick, wry grin, then goes back to trying to remember all the notes to 'Let It Be'.
Sara Pezzini For Sara, the last events that put Michael back in his place and rescued Chas from the door were missed. Although she would have killed, literally, to be there, things in life prevented her from joining the team that went up the stairs. She'd done her part to get them there, and that is what being part of a team was about, making sure that in the end, someone got where they needed to go.

Since she also wasn't there, she had to hitch a ride with someone else to the new headquarters. A part of her was impressed, another part was disgusted by all the butterflies, and the last part, that being Witchblade, really gave no f*cks either way. As for her clothing, it was same as it always was day to day in her life, perhaps just a touch nicer. A black leather jacket over a blue button front shirt, new jeans on her legs and a pair of motorcycle boots on her feet.

As she makes her way to the table to collect a key, the song from the piano slowly starts to needle it's way into her brain, which means her next stop is the bar. "Witchblade is willing to take out the piano right here, right now," she comments as she claims a stool. "I mean /right/ now."
Charlie Gage     Honestly Charlie missed a lot of the angelic invasion. In part because she is so untrained, though Zee has been working on changing that. Other parts being the sheer amount of help she did in Gotham during the refugees and other parts of the crisis. Though she was always willing to gopher stuff where ever, whenever, and with less chance of flamingo croquet than Terry would introduce.

    Having hitched a ride from someone willing to bring her along with them to the party she showed up in jeans, stompy boots, a new more stylized wonder woman hoodie since she lost her classic one messily, with her belt and goggles stashed away under and in the hoodie respectively.

    "This place feels.. really odd.. like .. potential.." she notes softly as she walks around the Velvet Lounge. Not touching the food or Alchohol yet. She also hasn't picked a key up off the table either yet.

    Mostly she is just doing a wide eyed tourist routine walking to peer at a doorway and not going through it. "Is the song so bad... it's kind of pretty isn't it... I mean it isn't BTS but it isn't bad?"
Daniel Ketch Meanwhile, back in a crappy Brooklyn apartment, Daniel Ketch stares at a key with a good deal of scepticism. Because, yeah, 'magical key'. Unfortunately a magical key is about the least weird thing that he has experienced the past year. He has no grounds to disbelief.

Besides, he has not been invited to a party in years. So, after a very needed shave and an unsuccessful attempt to comb his hair, he finds a clean t-shirt and a coat that is not too badly worn and tries the key in the door to the hallway of his place.

"Well, holy crap," he mutters, stepping into the Velvet Room, looking around like a tourist in Times Square. He shouldn't be this impressed after seeing the palaces in Gemworld. But he is a kid from Brooklyn, there are still a few things he is not used to see.

And he needs a drink. Fortunately there is a bar with an integrated magical replicator. It is not going to help his incipient alcoholism. But for now, it will help his nerves.
Phoebe Beacon     Phoebe arrives after everyone else's been settled. Her braids are still bleached white, though the tips that were red when she was ready to fight at the Gates, they'd faded to an orangey-pink at this point. She's wearing orange acetate glasses, a black, light sweatshirt over an Scarlet Spider T-shirt, hands tucked in her pockets, looking to everyone else as she arrives, hood half-up and covering the back of her head as she slips off to the side. One thing about having your full range of emotions back and feeling them stronger than you're used to? It makes you feel *hellaciously* awkward even in the best of circumstances.
Terry O'Neil Vorpal the Cheshire Cat makes his entrance, not terribly wary of magical keys- after all, there's a whole thing about those in Wonderland. It has been a long journey, this Michael Epic, and he is deeply sorry that he wasn't there for the final showdown-- Wonderland had other plans for him, annoyingly so. But at least tonight was set aside for celebration in the midst of chaos.

That, and Terry did have to tell Jon what had happened to Donna. At some point /after/ the party, so as not to dampen celebrations.

He arrives looking as he usually does, with his hero suit with the emblazoned Cheshire grin across his chest. An extra accessory seems to be a faint cloud of glittering lights floating around him in a tight orbit, making him twinkle subtly here and there. Enchanted glitter. But there is no risk of it getting on other people, fortunately. Not without some /effort/.

The castle, the velvet room, it all looks absolutely stunning.

And there's a piano, of course. "Is it too early to request Piano Man?" he says with a wicked grin as he steps in, "Hello everybody! Sorry I wasn't available for the final showdown. Wonderland happened." The bar seems to be the common gathering spot, so he starts heading that-a-ways.
Jonathan Sims     "Let's /not/ threaten to destroy the magic piano that may or may not be sentient," Jon says with a smirk. "At least not until we've tried teaching it new music. The song's lovely, but /any/ song will grate on the nerves after days of listening to nothing else." He looks over toward Rien, curious to see if she can actually get the piano to play... something. "I'd suggest Stairway to Heaven, but that's just because I've been playing it off and on for the past few weeks."

    After a moment, he adds, "While I'm no longer taking clients professionally, I /will/ happily sit down and talk to anyone who needs some counseling. We've all been through a lot, and it's one thing I'm reasonably certain I'm actually good at."

    They look around, since a good number of people have gathered now, and raises their voice. "If I could... have everyone's attention? Just for a moment. I... just wanted to say... I know not everyone was there on Friday, but everyone in this room has helped with the path that led to those of us who /did/ go, being able to ascend that stairway and bring Chas home. Saint Michael died on Friday, and was reborn in a new form. He gave up the Demiurgic Force, Chas is down off the Gates of Heaven, and it looks like our troubles with angels are over, at least in the immediate."

    A sigh. "We've all been through an ordeal. Some of us have changed... a great deal, since this started." A glance at Cael, and Phoebe, a smirk down at himself. "Hell, I don't even have the same /body/ I started out with. But I think it was worth it, in the end. We fixed a problem in the universe, we saved a friend, and hopefully we've begun to build a strong team. There's /always/ going to be another battle to fight, another problem to solve, and my hope is that we can face those problems together."

    He hesitates, then raises his glass and smiles. "So... to the Justice League Dark."
Cael Becker     "...it's a piano. Not a person," Cael says flatly, her tone amused, before she shovels another forkful of noodles into her mouth. As others approach the bar, she gestures with her now-empty fork towards the noodle. At least Lydia brought desert - though they were going to have a carb-and-liquor heavy evening.
    "No more 'Stairway to Heaven,'" she groans with her mouth still half-full. "Please. I thought we were going to be teaching it NEW songs..."
    After swallowing her noodles, she picks her whiskey back up, lifting her glass. "And to no more problems for AT LEAST two weeks. //Please//." Please. She knocks back the rest of her glass of whiskey, then holds it out towards Jon, who she's apparently nominated bartender.
    At least for her.
    "Got your favorite order," Cael adds - pointing to a box of noodles that were labeled with 'SARA' on top. Seems clear enough.
Sara Pezzini Whiskey seemed to be the drink of choice for the night and so it was that Sara got herself some in a glass. Turning on the stool as Jon speaks, she runs through her head just a few of the things that had happened over the past several months, including the fact that she nearly died. The fight to recover her health and to regain Witchblade had been the most difficult thing she'd been through in her life, and that was counting the death of her mother and father, along with two NYPD partners.

"The piano could be sentient Cael," she comments absently. "Look where we are, it could be judging us all right now."

Then when Jon finishes, she lifts her glass to his toast. "To the Justice League Dark, and all we can accomplish together, rather than alone."
Charlie Gage     Charlie is scooping a key off a table and into her utility belt, exposing the bat yellow to the room under her hoodie, when Terry and Co. arrive and she pauses and peers at the cheshire cat now. "Wait... Wonderland is Real?" like somehow standing physically in the astral plane and dealing with demons and angels and all isn't enough to make Wonderland of all things real. "Woah." peering at the feline. "Can I see it sometime?"

    Restaint, Common sense, and many other things barely have a passing acquantance with Charlie.

    Which is demonstrtaed as she teleports, bouncing over to the bar when Jon is done talking about the troubles and calling for the toast. There is a shudder of chaos magic and a spill of pinkish purple smoke as she snags a glass of something that dear god lets hope is non-alchoholic and lifts it up. "To Justice League Dark." then slams it back.

    Cough..... that was not .. soda...
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia raises her glass and cheers, "To at least two weeks of rest. I plan on going on vacation with my fiance, and I hope that all of you have a good time as well." She gestures to her cinnamon rolls and says, "Dig in. They should still be warm, and there's nothing like a good cinnamon roll."
Terry O'Neil Like calls to like, and Vorpal immediately fixes on Charlie. There's so much chaos in there, it's like looking into a mirror. With longer hair. And, well, not so much fur. "Oh hey! Wonderland at this moment is not safe to travel to. But if at some point things get better, I'll definitely and gladly bring people from the League for tours and tea parties." The Cheshire grins and raises a glass when he gets to the bar. It's empty, but he doesn't want to be left out. "To the Jay Ell Dee!"

Lydia gets a grin and a raised eyebrow, "... Lydia, you will be relieved to know that I will not be catering your wedding when it happens. I have been told that I will be severely punished if I attempt a musical number."
Rien D'Arqueness Rien works her way through 'Let It Be' and waits to see what happens.... when the piano starts to play the song on it's own, she smiles, "Excellent. So it -can- be taught new songs." Turning on the bench, she faces Jon and smiles, "Thank you. I'd like to try talking through some of what happened there." Motioning to the piano, "Also... behold! It learns!"

Though she doesn't have a drink, she lets out a cheer for the Justice League Dark!
Daniel Ketch Daniel sips from his drink and hears about (maybe) sentient pianos and battles he wouldn't remember even if the Ghost Rider has not decided to go chasing after mortal threats once the angels left New York. He is territorial that way.

But maybe now they have an easy to reach hangout he will actually have a chance to share his troubles and... nah, not happening. But there is at least one thing he needs to do. That is walking to Sara to ask, "hello, er... is Johnny Blaze coming?"
Phoebe Beacon     Phoebe quietly raises a glass, staying the wallflower she is, and echoes the toast quietly, before she looks over the grouping of supernatural and helpful people, and she gives a slight smile, running a hand through her bleached-white braids a moment and ad justing her glasses before she goes to the bar, where she sets her empty glass down, leaning on it as she overlooks the Velvet Room in this astral castle.
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia barks out laughter at Terry's mention of the faux wedding that they staged for Michael. "I hope not, though I /do/ expect you to not glitter my parents. They have enough problems dealing with the fact that I'm a lesbian vampire witch. I want things to be at least a /little/ bit normal for them." She lets out a weary sigh, "Though knowing our luck we'll have a demonic imp infestation in the middle of it."
Sara Pezzini One sip is all Sara takes of the whiskey, she's already been down the 'almost alcoholic' route once, she's not going there again.

"Doubt it," she replies to Daniel, turning her attention to him. Habit, something she can't stop herself from doing, she checks him over with her eyes once. Build, face, eyes, making sure he's healthy. Living with a Ghost Rider she gets, almost too well, how they like to go off on their own and forget to take care of themselves... so she makes certain he is.

"He's been off on his own path for a little while," she continues quietly. "Think he's been in Gotham off an on as well, not entirely sure."

Her eyes shift to Lydia for a moment, "Don't worry, I'll work security at your wedding Lydia, no demon imps for you."
Terry O'Neil "You don't think that meeting the actual Cheshire Cat will be a little more overwhelming than glitter?" Terry smirks and finds himself some non-alcoholic bev, because nobody wants a drunk Cheshire in the Astral Realm. You have all seen the things he is capable of while *sober*.

Glancing over the room, he adds, "It's kind of crazy, everything that's gone on. And the universe has been spared getting a blue screen of death reboot by an obsessive archangel. All's well that ends well- until the next bit of nonsense comes along and here we go again, right?"

He grins at Sara, "Hey now, some of my best friends are demon imps! They make for the best wedding planners." Of course demons are natural wedding planners. It explains so much.
Jonathan Sims     Chaos Magic, /right/ next to the Avatar of Ma'at, the literal embodiment of Order and Balance and Truth? Oh dear. At least it's not full Vorpal glitter to the face.

    "I promise not to sing at your wedding unless you /want/ me to, Lydia," Jon says with a grin. "I keep getting these complaints about my attempts to do a Robert Plant impression. /But/ I'd be glad to try my hand at a ward against demon imps? I can certainly promise no hedgehogs." He giggles. /Giggles/!

    "Oh, hey, good job, Rien."
Phoebe Beacon     "Luckily you know a couple of people who are good at getting rid of demonic imp infestations." Phoebe states to Lydia, raising her eyebrows to the writer as she cracks a small smile, but at the mention of additional demonic imps, she lets her shoulders rise up a little bit, and she looks at her empty glass.

    "Did you and Raven set a date yet? Just so I know to take the date off."
Cael Becker     "...How is //glitter// the strange thing out of the stuff you just mentioned?" Cael remarks in a dry voice. "I mean - if I were to order things from normalacy to weirdness... Lesbian. Glitter. Witch. Vampire." She even ticks them off helpfully on her fingers.
    The mention of Johnny is enough to get Cael's back up a little, though she tries not to show it. Her damned mood-barometer of a dog, though, lifts his head to look at her.
    Her gaze flicks towards Daniel and Sara, which puts Phoebe in her line of sight. For just a moment, her jaw tightens - before she forces herself to relax, and offer a smile instead.
    Down, girl. Don't hold a grudge over her //defending her dad.// That'd be some stupid shit.
Lydia Dietrich     "We haven't, no," answers Lydia. "We haven't had much of a chance to talk about it other than 'it's happening.' I'm hoping to do some of that talking on our little vacation." She takes sip of her Manhattan and grins at Cael, "Well, it's less 'the most weird' and more 'the straw that broke the camel's back.' Everything that's happened to me has happened in such a short period of time and my parents are rather traditional folks."
Daniel Ketch Daniel grunts, sipping again from his drinks. Healthy? Well, there are dark circles around his eyes, but they were there months ago. He probably needs some vacations from Ghost Riding, but they are not in the contract. Or whatever it was he didn't sign up.

"Well, nevermind," he decides, "at least the drinks are good. Or... are they even real? I never get it when I am in one of those immaterial space... things."
Phoebe Beacon     Phoebe catches the look from Cael, and she gives a slight smile back, and she rubs the back of her neck, turning away.

    "They're real, Daniel. They're real alcohol and probably will get people real drunk. Or at least real tipsy. You can trust a barback on that." she states, adn she helps herself to something sparkly carbonated drink.

    "Well. Let me know when you guys have a date, so I can make sure I get it off. I'm picking up some stuff in Gotham now that Dad's back in one piece."
Charlie Gage     Charlie does not know at all what she has wrought on poor Jon. Nope. She is too busy coughing and gripping the edge of the bar. "Why..." cough "Do people..." cough. "Drink this stuff..."

    She wipes her watering eyes with a hoodie sleeve. Then looks back at Vorpal "Well.. I want to meet the white rabbit.. have tea at a party yes... play croquet?" yeah she has a wish list.

    "Oh also Demon imps are awful.. very punchable... which since we won't be punching angels the enchantments on my gloves can just be used for that now. We also tend to have more demons in Gotham for some reason..." she trails off.

    She walks over to look Vorpal over then sticks her hand out. "Charlie.. or uh.. Misfit..."
Terry O'Neil Terry shakes Charlie's hand, "Vorpal. Also Terry O'Neil. Also the Cheshire cat, pleased to meetcha, Charlie. Wait... have we met before?"

The cat narrows his eyes, studying the redhead. "I could swear I have seen you before, a while back."

He fishes around for a memory, but he can't quite land on that strange time when the Toyman erected a dome in the middle of Suicide Slum. A lot of things were going on at that point. "I'm sure it'll come back to me. You are positively sparkly with chaos magic!"
Cael Becker     Cael looks back to Jon to find the glass she's holding out- ...still empty. Rude! She makes a face at him, then switching immediately to an amused grin, reaches out for the whiskey, pouring herself another glass.
    "The noodles aren't getting any warmer, people. And Sara, I won't be held responsible if someone snags your order while your back is turned." After another bite of noodles, she snacks a warm cinnamon roll - setting it on the lid to her noodle container to wait for her.
    "You're mine," she murmurs at the roll, before looking back towards Phoebe. There's a moment of silence before she asks, "How's Chas?"
Daniel Ketch Daniel offers Phoebe a brief grin. "Good, I could use getting a little real tipsy for a couple hours, although I don't know half the people here." Well, maybe not exactly half. But there are a few new faces, by the piano and the bar. But introductions can wait, because his glass is empty. How did refills work in this weird room?

It happens he has to go to the bar again. Who would have thunk? Magic that makes sense.
Charlie Gage     Charlie shakes the hand "I mean... I'm sure you have. I get around a lot." gestures vaguely towards where she teleported before. "You're on the Titans right?" she gets wider eyes. "They are sooo coool." she isn't being sarcastic either. "I'm with the Bats and Birds and .. uh here obviously." chest puff in her Wonder Woman Hoodie.

    "Also yeah... people keep telling me that. It doesn't seem to infect my magic much when I do it the slow dumber way but when I just ... bounce or osmething... evidently it is kinda a loud problem or something...."

    She ... may stop talking.

    "Oh food." pulling away to get noodles. There it is. Some silence for a moment.
Phoebe Beacon     Phoebe pauses for a moment as Cael asks about Chas, and she hunches her shoulders up, and she gives a shrug.

    "Haven't seen him since we got back. I figured he should probably take some time to re-aquaint himself with Asariel and spend time with Geraldine. Maybe connect back to what it's like being a human and not a door. Best not to associate with me yet, y'know how it goes." she states quietly, and sips her Generic Lemon-Lime drink. She pulls her hood back over her head.

    "... 'sides. This is a celebration. You did a lot of the lifting. How are *you* doing?"
Lydia Dietrich     "I'll make sure everybody knows the date, since you all are invited," Lydia says, gesturing to the entire room with the glass. "We'll also go and do a bachelorette party. I've never been to one before, and they seem like fun." Though she isn't quite sure how she feels about going to a strip bar.

    Her attention drifts off to Phoebe and shakes her head. "You're part of his family too," she says. "I'd think he'd want to hear from you at least."
Cael Becker     "No, I don't know," Cael counters flatly. "Why the fuck shouldn't he associate with you?" She stares at Phoebe for a moment, then breaks eye contact to take another drink from her whiskey - perhaps a bit more than a mere sip.
    "I'm- I'm alright. Jon and I are going to put the amulet back. Then we're going skiing for a while. And then- ...we'll see if I feel like returning to working with SHIELD and the Avengers, or if I need a little more downtime. But, you know. Don't have a dog trying to jump into my lap - so I must be alright."
Terry O'Neil "Oh, that's cool- Diana is awesome! I haven't gotten much interaction with the birds. I don't think Gothamites appreciate my... colorful nature." He sips his drink. Gotham almost seems to wince in protest every time he sets foot there. Unusual good judgement, for that city.

He glances across the room and ponders approaching Jon and Cael, but decides on playing wallflower for a couple more sips- who knew a Mai Tai mocktail would be this delicious? He frowns at Phoebe and Lydia's exchange, but he doesn't say anything yet. He has concern, but he doesn't want to stick his foot in his mouth by saying something stupid. Especially since he has to finish his Mai Tai.
Jonathan Sims     Jon blinks for a few moments at Cael. Oh... she /had/ been asking for a drink, hadn't she? He shakes his head and pinches at the bridge of his nose. Focus, Sims.

    "I intend to check in on him soon," he notes. "But I slept half the weekend away, so I haven't been able to check on /anyone/." He glances meaningfully toward Rien for a moment. The piano's now playing "Let It Be," at least. Repeatedly.

    He ponders Lydia's statement. "Do queer people still have separate bachelor or bachelorette parties? I don't know any of the etiquette on that; Martin and I just went and got married the first day it was legal. I don't even know what I would've /done/, to be fair. Can't imagine me in a strip club."
Sara Pezzini Always willing to share, Sara moves over to snatch up some of her noodles. She's not all that picky, but beef and broccoli will always be her favorite She's assessed Daniel, so the rest of her order gets offered up to him, not because he looks like he hasn't been eating but because he looks like he night like them.

"Phoebe, you're as much a part of Chas' family as anyone else," she comments as she goes by. "Stop hiding from the truth behind excuses. You're leery of going to see him after all this, and that's alright. Take your time, you'll get there and he'll be glad for it."

Selecting a random soda to go with her noodles, she finds a place to sit back down. She wasn't going into the fact she was already back to work with the NYPD, SHIELD and now a full member of team Avenger. It wasn't important right now that she had no idea where Johnny actually was, or that Wade was busy doing his own thing now, what mattered right now was celebration and victory, both of which were way more important distractions.

"I never knew Chas all that well before all this," she admits to the room as a whole. "I met him a couple of times, that's it... so I'll give him time to adjust before I try saying hello."
Charlie Gage     Noodles stuffed in mouth. She picked up the chicken noodles to get some of.

    She looks around at all the people talking while she is eating.

    She glances to Jon and Cael. "I'm free to help anytime if you end up going on more cool SHIELD stuff... that was exciting."

    Exciting.

    
Rien D'Arqueness Rien has been tinkering around with the piano while it plays Let It Be, trying to figure out more about the damned thing. A few simple spells to determine what it is and how it works before she's giving a nod. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, I think I get it." Looking towards Jon, she smiles, "Yes, we'll definitely talk soon. BUT. For now, I can tell you that the piano -can- learn new songs, and it will eventually get a revolving repertoire of songs... apparently the piano HAS to play each new song twenty-two times consecutively to 'learn' a song. Which means I'm probably going to be here for a few days to at least get it to start cycling through a decent number of tunes." She lifts a small shrug and offers a wry expression, "So. At least once it finishes cycling through Let It Be, I can teach it another song."
Lydia Dietrich     "I don't know, Jon." Lydia says. "I guess it depends on the couple? It's not like being gay comes with a manual. I'll give Raven the option of coming, but I /think/ the point of the party is for my friends to throw it for me." She gives Jon a grin and a playful chuck on the shoulder. "Which means /you/ get to plan it."

    Rien gets her attention at the Piano. "My little brother is pretty good with the piano," she says. "I might bring him up here to add quite a few songs to it. I'll bring Pete too. He'll get a kick out of all this velvet."
Terry O'Neil "Well, I don't have to worry about that particular detail," Vorpal says to Lydia, sipping his 'tai', "I'm pretty sure the guy I am with would rather fight Doomsday himself than bring up the 'm' word," he says with a little wistful smirk. "But Jon should definitely plan it. With Cael. I will exercise supreme restraint and only offer to bring mom's baking..." He blinks, as if remembering something. "Oh, mom sends her regards. I didn't know if it was ok to bring her over since, you know, was at the station. But it resolved itself anyway because she's in the middle of a stakeout. I have to bring her some Shawarma on my way back."
Jonathan Sims     Jon gapes at Lydia and Terry both for a moment. "I-bu-wha?!" they splutter. "Lydia, that's a /terrible/ idea. I... I mean... I'm /asexual/, we barely have a /pamphlet/, let alone a manual. I don't have the /third/ clue what would be involved in such a party besides copious amounts of drinking, let alone the /first/."

    A pause. Then, thoughtfully, "Actually, that would've been nice. A pub crawl, 'round Edinburgh. Been /ages/."

    Then he shakes himself and focuses on Rien instead. That's safe. Magic is /safe/. "Oh thank the gods," he says fervently. "22 times, though? I wonder why...?" He furrows his brow, though it's thoughtful rather than annoyed. Mysteries are good!

    "I don't mind people visiting, personally." He glances at Phoebe, raising his eyebrows. "What do you think? I suspect the castle will only give keys to people we tell it are proper members."
Cael Becker     "I- what? I'm not a party planner," Cael immediately splutters.
    She looks to Lydia.
    "You do not want me planning your party," she asserts. ...please.
    "Definitely leave it all in Jon's hands. I'm sure they'll be fine at sorting that all out." Yes. She's being completely awful right now - and she knows its, from the grin she shoots Jon's way.
    "...you still owe me fish 'n chips, you know," she remarks.
Rien D'Arqueness "The problem isn't teaching it the song. You have to wait for the song to play twenty-two times before you can add a new one. Which means a little over an hour just for a 3 minute song. To put in like.. the Moonlight Sonata? You'd be waiting two hours, forty-six minutes... of listening to Moonlight Sonata on repeat, before you could try to teach it the next one," Rien offers Lydia a quick smile and chuckles lightly. "So I hope he has a high tolerance for songs on repeat and brings something to occupy himself while he waits."

Looking back to the piano, she frowns faintly and waves both hands over the keys, studying the results, "I'll keep working with to see if I can't enhance the enchantment, maybe lower the time needed to learn a new song... or maybe add in other sections so we could have full band pieces playing..." She looks back to Jon and gives a nod, "The piano itself is a remarkable bit of magic, but I -think- we can refine the enchantment to make it a little more.. user friendly."
Sara Pezzini Sara starts to eat her noodles and sip at the soda she picked up, then almost spits the mouthful out over the idea of Cael planning a party.

"Cael, you totally got this," she laughs, wiping her lips with her napkin. "And you could ask for help. I can't plan a party either, but maybe between the two of us we can come up with something."
Phoebe Beacon     Phoebe does not answer Cael. She quietly just looks back into her drink as if it were a fizzy crystal ball, and sets her lips in a fine line, listening to Cael and Sara, and she looks back over to them, and shakes her head.

    "I'm sure when he's ready he'll call me up. In the meantime I'm just going to give him space..." she trails off, and gives a shrug, and then huff out.

    "Don't worry about it. I'm sure once the air clears everything's going to be right as rain for the people it's supposed to be right for."
Lydia Dietrich     A good natured laugh escapes from Lydia at Jon and Cael's protests. "Would you like me to ask Terry?" She looks over at the cat thoughtfully. "Actually.... that might not be a bad idea...."
Terry O'Neil Terry sips his drink and smirks, "I think you will find that if you open the encyclopedia, that it is precisely under the definition of 'a bad idea,' Lydia."

He glances at Phoebe and Cael, "They'll back me up, I have no impulse control, no limits to taste, and no budget. You're expecting a bachelorette party. You might end up with a Mamma Mia Cruise."
Cael Becker     "...what's Mama Mia?" Cael asks in an uncertain tone. "Is it like... a caberet musical? Because I suspect that any party that Terry plans will end up- yeah. Like that." She looks from Terry, to Lydia, to Jon. One or more of them will be able to answer her questions, here.
    She takes another sip of her whiskey, feeling a comfortable warmth from the amount she'd already imbibed. "Do we really need to listen to //this// song a full 22 times in a row?" she asks with a heavy sigh, then turns her attention on Phoebe.
    "Look. I don't fucking know Chas - not really. But speaking as someone who's been through hell," at least partially because of Chas - but let's ignore that for a moment, "...waiting until //he calls you// might not be smart. He might be sitting there wondering where the fuck you are and why the fuck you don't care. Call him. Send him a letter. ...something. That won't crowd him. If- God, if Sara or Jon had backed off to give me space, or some shit, after what happened to me- let's just say things could have gone poorly."
Jonathan Sims     Jon furrows his brow. "Why /twenty-two/? There /has/ to be a reason." A pause. "I mean, I could plan a party, I just... bachelorette parties are supposed to be sexy, and I wouldn't know sexy if it sat in my lap and called me Daddy."

    He blinks, and coughs. "I... mean... Terry, did you put glitter in my drink?!" He shakes his head. "No, I just mean..." No, no, we all know what you mean, Jon. Let it go.

    He sighs, and takes off his glasses, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, hard. "Cael's half-right, Phoebe. I /do/ know Chas, well enough to know he wants to see you, because he cares about you. Just like I'm sure he wants to see me. And I'm sure he'd /also/ be glad to let people punch him, because he feels he deserves that, whether or not he does. And as for things being right as rain, well... they don't make themselves that way. You have to work at it, a bit. Part of the point of this whole business, having the chance."
Sara Pezzini Sara pours the remainder of the random soda in the glass with the whiskey, mixing the two to extend the drink and keep the alcohol from being over powering. A week of drunk was enough, it'll be a while before she goes for drunk again.

"It's going to take time for all of us to be 'right as rain'," she comments after a sip. "As Jon said, it doesn't just happen, you have to work at it... but Chas needs you, and you need Chas."
Robbie Reyes It was straightforward enough, oddly, to find his way in here. Robbie's still got the key tucked against his gloved palm, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket as he observes the gathering from a safe distance. And then, oh, there's booze over yonder. So off he goes to grab himself a beer, and play wallflower.
Terry O'Neil Terry stares at Cael in sheer disbelief. "... may ABBA forgive you, my child. I may need you to do penance and sing five dancing queens and three hey hey helens before this evening is through-"

And Jon says the wrong thing that causes his attention to zero in like a missile. "Oh, don't worry, Jon, if you want a reference for sexy, I can provide a study guide! I'm an expert in the matter, if I say so myself."

He glances at Phoebe. "Pheebs, I know I haven't gone through anything like you have, but from my very limited frame of comparable reference, absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder, it only makes it sadder and to ask itself questions about what they did wrong. As others have said, make sure that you give space if you want, but also make it very clear that you are there on the other side of the space...."
Phoebe Beacon     "Terry's right -- he has no control, no taste, no budget. You'll get your Mama Mia cruse and it'll be catered by Priscilla, Queen of Dessert, and everyone will be wearing ridiculous derby hats, and the servers will be Glitter Rollerderby Goths." Phoebe comments with a slight smile, and when everyone starts dogpiling on her, her shoulders rise up. And she puts her drink down a moment.

    "You all do know that the only reason Chas is my dad is because someone else put his name on the adoption paper, right?" Phoebe points out quietly, and draws one leg up.

    "The whole reason I came on this mission was to get Chas home, and make sure Jon lived through it. Not for me, because me? I don't matter. But Geraldine deserves her dad. And Agnes has already been through so much." she comments, and then looks into her cup.

    "I've only had my full emotional range back for like, not even a week and already it suuuucks."
Lydia Dietrich     "Speaking of which," Lydia says, gesturing at Jon. "I'm having a ceremony this Friday. I'm holding a ritual to burn those pieces of my past that I need to move on from. Sometimes you need to just... let go and move on with your life, and this is my way of doing it."

    She looks at everybody here, "You're all welcome to attend and participate. If you have something you feel is appropriate bring something combustible that represents it for you to burn. Like..." her voice turns a bit melancholy, "I'm bringing one of my straw sunhats to burn. The sun is... let's just say that I can't enjoy it as I used to, and all the things that come with it. I can't keep dwelling on what I lost so... yeah. That's going in the fire."
Sara Pezzini Finishing off her noodles, Sara stands up and with glass in hand makes her way toward Robbie. There will be no wall flowers in the Velvet Room, whatever the hell that meant... more likely she just intended to say hello.

"You should try the aged whiskey," she comments when she gets closer to him, a grin playing over her features. "Fantastic stuff really."

Once she is in arms reach she extends her hand toward Robbie, offering her hand to shake of course. "Good to see you again," is then said, eyes playing over him before she glances toward Daniel for the quickest moment. If they've met, she doesn't know, so in her mind this might get seriously interesting.
Cael Becker     "...I'm not singing," Cael says flatly to Terry.
    Jon has heard Cael sing. And- yeah, okay, she did //one// duet with Jon at the 'I'm not dead!' party once she was properly soused but- ...she doesn't sing.
    Even though here voice is... fine, actually. Even has some potential.
    She then turns to stare at Jon for a few moments. She slowly lifts her whiskey, while still maintaining eye contact. "...no comment," she remarks, before taking that drink, and looking away.
    And towards Phoebe. "...you matter," Cael says flatly. "That's some bullshit depression nonsense. 'I don't matter.' I mean, hell. ... not like I haven't been there. However it happens - you care about him. He cares about you. You got him back. You matter. Go see the man and seriously, I mean this, because it's the best fucking advice I ever got - get a therapist. ...just can't be Jon, he's presently retired, and apparently there are rules about treating friends."
Robbie Reyes Opened beer in hand, Robbie's in the midst of eyeing up a tray of hors d'oeuvres when Sara moseys on over. He's got a look of serious concentration on his face; who knew deciding between cocktail shrimp and egg rolls was a proposition so fraught with difficulty.

The familiar voice has him looking over his shoulder though, features melting into a rare smile. "Hey, chica. Como te van las cosas?" Her hand's clasped almost hesitantly, though his grip's solid, and his eyes stay on hers.

Until she sends that glance toward the other guy. He follows it, attention lingering briefly before returning to her. "Uh, yeah, me and whiskey don't really mix."
Terry O'Neil "It's hard." Terry confides, his tone growing more casual and less jocular. "Sometimes I get the feeling I don't belong. That I'm a perpetual screw-up who can't get anything right. And I feel like crawling under the bed with my yarn---PILLOW. With my pillow. And just stay there-"

He clears his throat. "Cael has good advice. I'd recommend my therapist, she's really helping me a lot trying to overcome all the up-fuckitude that the nuns did to me in high school... but I don't know if she'd be your cup of tea since you're a Gothamite and she has a... history. Even if she's worked to move past it."

He stirs his non-alcoholic drink, "Harl's got an un-orthodox approach, more roller-skating talking therapy than sit-down couch. But looking for someone to talk to will help immensely, believe me."
Jonathan Sims     Jon takes in a slow breath through his nose, then lets it out through his mouth. He says, quite simply, "Everyone matters. No one deserves happiness any more or any less than anyone else." That's all he's going to say about it, evidently, because he reaches out to pour another drink for everyone at the bar, himself last, then takes the drink and pushes away from the bar.

    He nods to Lydia. "I'll be there. I'll bring something. Have to talk to Martin first, though."

    He makes his way to Robbie, however, lingering a step or two away from Sara. "How're you doing?" he asks, brow slightly furrowed. "Whatever happened up in Heaven, it looked like... a lot."
Sara Pezzini Sara's grin broadens as she says, "Things are good, hope they are with you as well." and shakes his hand.

"No whiskey then, stick to beer," she then adds before glancing to Jon now as he approaches. Although she looked toward Daniel, she said nothing about him and made no move to call him over, at least not yet. Jon apparently had some business with Robbie as well, which really did not surprise her at all.... Jon got around.

Looking back to Robbie, the smile returns to her face. "You went to heaven and helped out? You alright then?" She asks.
Hope Svelgate     Death is rarely invited anywhere, nobody ever gives death a key, and yet death has a way of showing up at unexpected times. The same can be said of Lady Death as well, the latest to wear the mantle of She Who Reaps.

    A curved blade seems to pierce reality itself, slicing through space, time, and even dimensions to create a glowing slit hanging in the air. From that luminous rend steps a tall solidly built Scandinavian woman with long blonde hair clad in leather. One hand holds a scythe like one might expect the Grim Reaper to carry, while her other hand supports a large barrel upon her shoulder, marked with Norse runes.

    Hope glances about the space before setting down the barrel with a thud, its contents can be heard sloshing around within. "I heard there was a party to celebrate the Host's defeat."
Phoebe Beacon     "Drop it, Cael. /You/ don't even know who I am outside the context of this work. Some of us don't get the happy endings, and that's OK, because Deenie and Agnes get their dads back. You have Jon. Raven and Lydia are getting married. Sara and Witchblade came out relatively unscathed, the Jay-El-Dee won. Good deal. I don't care if I don't get the happy ending, because I don't. I never have. Someone is always going to be left out." Phoebe points out, and she shrugs her shoulders. "And that's OK."

    And then she gets an expression like a wet cat and looks at Terry.

    "There is nothing you can do or say that would result in me and Dr. Quinzel having a positive session, Terry. I went to schools that had clown drills."
Rien D'Arqueness Rien is totally still here! She's simply immersed in the scan of the piano, wading through the enchantment and trying to figure out what makes it tick... and if she can streamline it!

Robbie's arrival gets a quick smile and wink from the blonde, but she's quickly diving back intot he magic and sorting through it like a programmer might sort through code.
Cael Becker     "I wonder if I have anything to burn," Cael murmurs to herself - her expression going thoughtful. She follows Jon with her eyes for a moment, then turns back towards her meal, finishing off the last of her noodles as she nudges Bear with her foot. He's being a good boy.
    Her attention shifts to Phoebe, watching her for a moment before remarking, "There are no happy endings. There are happy moments. There's shit. And no matter what - there's death. Trick is to find out how to cope, and how to be as happy as you can between now and-"
    And of course that's when the scythe pierces reality.
    "...death. Okay, I did not just summon her." Did she?
    "Did you bring something for the potluck?"
Robbie Reyes "Well, define 'all right'," Robbie mumbles into his beer, and slides a look toward Jon as he, too, wants to know how that pearly gates debacle went. He decides on an egg roll, and shoves it into his mouth whole, obliterating it with a few bites. "You know, I hadn't been planning on going. I figured I wouldn't be able to control him--" The Rider, presumably. "--around Michael. Guess I wasn't wrong. You okay?"

Rien's spotted right as she gives him that wink, and it's probably nobody's imagination that he's turning a shade darker under all those freckles.
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia nods at Phoebe soberly. "I know what you mean. Being a vampire means that I'm not allowed to grow old and gracefully pass. When my end comes, it'll be a violent one. I try not to dwell on it, though, and I try to enjoy the parts between now and then."

    Lady Death's arrival is something of a surprise, though. "Oh, hey," she says, "What have you got in the barrel?"
Jonathan Sims     Jon's hand--the real one, not the glowing emerald one replacing his missing right arm--tightens on his glass as Phoebe speaks, but he keeps his focus on Robbie. Half-drunk on Chaos Magic is /not/ the time to talk about happy endings or lack thereof. He manages a smile, and says, "As okay as I ever am. We won, so that's something. I'm sure it'll all hit in a little while and I'll be a blubbering mess, but that sort of thing's for behind closed doors where I'm from." The BBC is where he's from, by the sound of his voice. Most people on British TV don't even have RP accents anymore. "I was curious what it was that /happened/, and how it caught Rien--"

    He turns away, distracted, by Hope's arrival, and lifts the emerald hand to wave at her. "There is! And you're most certainly welcome to join us. Welcome to the Velvet Room, I suppose." A pause. "Don't mind the piano. It, ahh... it'll learn another song soon enough."

    It's currently playing 'Let It Be' for the 10th time or so. Maybe 15th? Time is weird.
Terry O'Neil Rather than talk further about Doctor Quinzell, Terry addresses the arriving Lady Death, "Oh, hey- nice to see you again, Ell Dee- the last time we really talked we were busy dumping an ocean on top of a demon and giving cultists a one-for. Good times." He gestures, "Aside from, you know, the Archangel stuff. But we didn't actually get much tea time, did we?"

He has begun to hum Let It Be at this point. On the next way through, a subconscious illusion in the shape of Nana Mouskouri is going to start singing along.
Robbie Reyes Ah, now they're getting to the meat of the matter. Robbie reaches for another egg roll, like he's hoping that if he just makes sure his mouth's full at all times, he can't be expected to answer questions. *crunch, crunch* as that one disappears as well, and he hunts for a napkin. There's gotta be a stack around here somewhere..
Hope Svelgate Hope gives Cael a slight grin as she lets the scythe vanish into thin air to wherever it resides when not in use. "Asgard's finest mead." She says, answering both Cael and Lydia's question at the same time. She then plunges the fingers of one hand through the wood of the top of the barrel and yanks off the lid away with sheer strength because apparently crowbars and taps are things for other people.

    "Drink up!" She calls over towards Jon and Terry when they turn to address her, as she pulls a drinking horn from her waist and dips it into the barrel and then raising her glass.
Phoebe Beacon     "Well. It's.. been a time," Phoebe states, draining her lemon lime fizzy drink, and she sets her glass on the bar.

    "Take care, everyone, drive safe on your way back to your doors." she calls out, and makes for the door itself, taking a key out of her pocket. "Right about the time when the Asgardian Mead shows up, it's time for Phoebe to get outta dodge."
Cael Becker     "I'm shit at putting things right," Cael calls after Phoebe. "That's what therapists are for! Get one - seriously. Everyone in the room needs one."
    She then shifts her attention back to Lady Death as she watches the barrel get opened. "...alright. I'll bite. Pour me one." She pushes her whiskey aside for the moment before adding, "I miss the sword already, you know. Though- ...no point in me holding onto it anymore. Damn it was a good sword, though."
    Yes, she has an emotional attachment to a sword that burned her hands repeatedly.
    Swiveling in her chair, she finally regards Robbie. "So. When you said 'demon' to me you meant... Ghost Rider? How many of you guys are there?"
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia's brows arch. "Asgardian mead? I'm going to /have/ to try this." She gets up out of her chair and pulls out a fresh glass to dip into the barrel. It's not the big mug that one would usually drink beer and mead in, but rather a small tumbler, which will likely get scoffed at by Lady Death. No matter, she takes a sip of it and her eyes go wide in surprise. "Wow, that's strong stuff," she says. "I don't think I'd have been able to handle it if I were alive."

    She turns when Phoebe departs and scowls. "I hope life turns out better than she expects," she says. "She deserves good things."
Sara Pezzini There are only so many egg rolls and Sara has all night, so she'll wait. For the time being she will sip at her drink, stay here Robbie and listen to the chatter in the room.

As Phoebe makes her exit however, a frown touches her lips. In some ways the teen was correct, not everyone got happy endings no matter what they did or tried to achieve one, but for someone that young to be so... cynical, it hurt the woman on a level she'd rather not get into on this particular night.

Pulling herself out of her head she looks to Cael as she says, "A lot, there are a lot of them. We're up to three." then walks back over to the bar and sits down. She's not having any of that mead, nope, no drunk for a while, but she does watch as Cael gets some and takes a moment to smell it.

"I'll pass, but thanks," she offers to Hope, not that she's met the woman formally.
Terry O'Neil "There are about as many ghost riders as there are Robins now, then?" Terry asks quietly, his eyes trailing after Phoebe as she exits. Then, he glances back at Lady Death.

"... I've had the mead once. Lady Sif gave me a taste. Then I apparently sank under the table and spent the rest of the night singing in a made-up language that I pretended was Asgardian. She was very amused."

He looks tempted. "It was delicious. But I am going to have to pass this time..."
Rien D'Arqueness "There might be a fourth one roaming Mexico... Gods help us if she comes up to New York as well," Rien adds absently from her place at the piano, still very much involved in staring at the information filtering in from her scans of the magic piano. They're getting close to the treasured 22! Then she can play something new to torture them all with.

Pausing briefly, she glances up, brows lifted, "Asgardian mead? Hmmmmmmm... that.. might possibly actually get me buzzed... I've never been drunk before..."
Jonathan Sims     Jon is a licensed professional therapist. He recognizes deflection when he sees it, and he looks over to give Robbie a quirked eyebrow. "You don't have to give me details, but anything that knocks out one person and causes the other to go down while also obliterating a copy of an archangel is something we ought to at least have a general idea about."

    But there's Asgardian mead, and Jon's going to have to at least /try/ it. He heads on over to get a fresh glass and comments, "Johnny offered to bring in a whole army of them, back during the siege." He pauses a moment. That's... weird. Just casually talking about 'the siege.' He shakes himself and then goes ahead and takes some of the mead.

    "Phoebe's eighteen," they say as they peer at the glass, admiring the color of the liquid. "Every eighteen year old I've ever known thinks they know how the world is, and certainly better than anyone older. The way their life is right then is how it will always be, for good or ill. If you'd told me at eighteen that I'd be married, let alone to /Martin Blackwood/, living in America, /dating/ an American... that I'd have /magic/... well, he'd have scoffed at the first group and been thrilled at the last, admittedly. Eighteen year old me was convinced he'd never have real friends and imagined he'd be working somewhere like Arkham just now."

    They take a sip. A very slow, small sip.
Robbie Reyes Robbie probably didn't catch that comment about other Ghost Riders. It's difficult enough to follow the conversation with the pair nearby, over the buzz of the room, the piano (re)playing its tune, and the dizzying array of *stuff* going on.

"I don't remember too well myself what happened," he confesses, watching Jon grab himself a drink. His gaze travels to Sara for a moment, then away again as he tips his beer back for a swallow. "Rider wanted a piece of him. Wanted him to suffer for his sins."

Except he had none. Or none he felt guilty about, anyway. The kid scowls slightly in recollection of it.
Cael Becker     "...the mead made you do //what//?" Cael asks - looking even more excited to try this now. "Alright. Who's my designated, then?" She looks from Sara, to Jo- "Okay, not Jon, apparently. Sara, you're getting us both home." Voluntold!
    When she finally receives her own glass, she takes a cautious sniff, and then a sip, savoring the flavor and letting out a quiet, "Wow..." before she even attempts to comment on anything Jon just said.
    "When I was eighteen... I was lead witness in multiple organized crime trials. Shit was- ...pretty intense. And, yeah. I wasn't sure I'd ever been happy again, either."
    "Fuck Michael and fuck Michael's sins!" She says suddenly - raising her glass and grinning towards Robbie, before hazarding a second sip.
    "Yeah. Wow. Oof."
Terry O'Neil "I remember what it was like, when I was eighteen. I was miserably counting the last hours until I could get the hell out of that nun school. I hated myself. I was convinced I was always going to be a screw up, never going to find happiness, and that I didn't deserve to be in a happy relationship."

He pushes off from the bar and approaches Death "On second thought, serve me up some of that mead, Ell Dee."
Hope Svelgate A full horn of Asgardian mead is consumed within moments by Hope before it is again dipped into the barrel as it seems she drinks as hard as she fights. But then, those with ties to Asgard are rather known for their revelry "Do I look like a serving wench to you?" She asks Cael when she asks her to get her some, though her tone is still one of revelry. "That sword would only destroy you," She adds. "Which is perhaps a good thing for you."

    Terry gets an amused expression from her and there is definitely a moment when she considers pointing out that Asgardian isn't actually a language, but she lets it go. "It's good stuff, will put a Frost Giant on its ass." She says in a way that suggests she has seen this first hand.

    The smaller tumbler is indeed looked askance at, but Hope lets it pass without comment, taking some measure of satisfaction from the wide eyed reaction all the same.

    Jon and his small sip is also watched, with anticipation.
Sara Pezzini Sara just nods to Cael, having already planned to be the designated driver for anyone who needed one. "I got your back Becker," she comments with a chuckle. "I'll make certain you get home in one piece, and anyone else who needs a ride after that." she gestures toward the mead with the last part of the comment.

Now her eyes just go back to scanning the faces of the people present as she listens to them talking.
Cael Becker     "Fuck closed minded people. I have a non-binary boyfriend with a husband. I mean - what the fuck is that, even?" Cael points out. "I mean, seriously." She's starting to slur her words already, as she takes another sip of the mead. "And I thought - I mean I was //sure//. I was so //sure// Martin would hate me. Like I'm some... homewrecker or- but nope. He says we're family. Fucking family. Something I haven't had since- well. For a long fucking time, and now I've got- there's Jon, and Sara, and Martin, and Agnes, and turns out Alis is dead alright - but she never really left. And what do you even call your non-binary boyfriend's husband? There's like- there's no word for that. How to categorize //that// relationship in a 'family'? And- and what do you call your boyfriend's daughter- I mean, it's weird, but-"
    There's a momentary pause.
    "What was I saying? RIGHT. FUCK closed minded people. That's all."
    Her attention shifts back to Jon as she adds, "We got to find me a new sword or axe or something. If I can't have my big fuck off fire sword anymore. I already miiiiss it, Jon." And then she immediately adds, "You're the best, Sara."
Rien D'Arqueness "...it's alive. Jon was right. This isn't an enchantment, this is a binding. The piano has a being boudn to it, no name, goes by Nameless... has an eidetic memory, but the law of the castle is 22, so any song MUST repeat 22 times before it can be added to the playlist. There's no tweaking that part of it." Rien rests a hand on the top of the piano and smiles, leaning back with an exhale. "Telepathy isn't really my strong suit, but if anyone here has experience with it, we might actually be able to communicate more directly with the being." Twenty-two! THere! Without waiting, Rien immediately launches into a piano only version of Piano Man to get it started on a new song.

"Any other requests for our new friend?"
Jonathan Sims     The first sip gets a blink. "Metamour," Jon says slowly. "The term, love, is metamour. As I've told you more than once. I mean. You and Martin. Or friends? Can you be friends? Friends are... good."

    He frowns at the mead. His head was already swimming from Charlie's burst of Chaos Magic, and this is /strong/ stuff. Another slow sip. Carefully. Don't want to fall over right here in the middle of the party.

    "I'm a telepath," he offers. Takes another sip, because evidently 'slow' is already out the window. "I could... here, budge up once you're done playing." Oh, this is a /terrible/ idea. Jon's /wobbling/. Though they manage to keep themself upright, staggering only a couple of steps and gripping the side of the piano.

    He blinks at the piano. "Oh. Hello there."
Terry O'Neil "So... you could say that I'm... metamourphous?" Terry says after a few sips from the mead. And then he pauses, and lets out a giggle. "Metamouphpuss. Meta- that thing."

He glances up, "Jon Jon Jon!" he says, "Wait wait, do me!"

He pauses and what he said scrolls through his mind. Clearly, an internal editor must still be sober, because he says, "I /meant/, read /my/ mind! It's a lotta fun- Kian uses me for recreation all the time."

Swishing the contents of his glass around, he clarifies, "My mind, I mean. I'm more than just a pretty face."
Lydia Dietrich     "When I was eighteen I was preparing to go to college," Lydia says. "I was awkward and gay and I didn't know what I was doing. I never got the courage to ask a girl out on a date until well after school." She shakes her head, "I was a disaster gay."

    She turns to Lady Death and explains, "I'm a vampire. I don't really drink... mead. I can enjoy it, but not really in the same way others would."
Sara Pezzini Sometimes remaining the sober one was /waaaaay/ more entertaining then drinking, and for Sara that was the case tonight. The glass with the whiskey and soda mixed gets slid away as she goes looking for coffee. She was intending to enjoy every drunken moment of Jon, Cael, Terry apparently and anyone else who kept drinking to that level, and to do that she needed coffee and an egg rolls... if Robbie hadn't already eaten them all to avoid talking.
Cael Becker     "Oh my GOD, Jon, that word sounds sooooo made up! It cannot be a real word!" Cael protests. "And of course we're friends! We're friends! Even if he does pronounce scone wrong."
    There's another sip as she watches Jon teetering to the piano, apparently not too drunk to enjoy his clumsiness. Bear, meanwhile, has lifted his head and is watching Cael with cocked ears.
    "She vants to drink your bloooood!" Cael exclaims dramatically, and then laughs - as if this is hilarious. ...it obviously isn't.
Rien D'Arqueness Once the song has concluded, Rien will 'budge up' as Jon asks, and scoot down so that he can sit at the piano's bench. Chuckling softly, she stands and pats at Jon's shoulder, "Please let me know if there's anything we can do to make Billy more comfortable. Because she's already formed an attachment, so now the piano is Billy. Every being deserves a name, dammit!

Moving towards the barrel of mead, Rien offers a nod towards Hope and grabs a mug. "I'm curious... I die fairly often. Do you know if I ever appear in the afterlife or underworld? If I do, I don't remember it, but I tend to heal quickly, so I don't tend to stay dead for very long." She dips the mug into the barrel, her nose already twitching from the scent. Then she takes a swallow! "Hm... I do like the taste, the honey is excellent, very strong... you can really taste the fermentation.."
Jonathan Sims     Jon lifts their green arm to point at Terry, mead glass and all. "No, Lydia. /That/ is a disaster gay. /You/ were..." They hesitate, frowning. "An adverse event gay. No, no that's not..." Pause. "No. You /were/ a disaster gay. /Terry/ is a... a... Category 5 Hurricane Gay."

    He glowers at the Cheshire. "If I read your mind right now I will be tripping balls for /days/, and I have /work/ to do. People to check on. Vacations to... vacate. It's bad enough I have statements swimming around in my..." He pauses, and blinks at Rien and Robbie. "Oh. Oh! That's... is that just a... thing people do, to judge souls? See their lives? And you saw /Michael's/. Oh, I'm so sorry." He's making a guess based on his own experiences, but it's not a /bad/ guess.

    He frowns back at the piano. "All words are made up, Cael," he notes idly as he goes to sit down at the piano. Drinks half the the remaining mead, sets the glass on the piano, and then places both hands on the keys and closes his eyes. Communing, maybe.
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia gives Cael a wary glance. "I do not, in fact, want to drink your blood," she tells Lady Death. "I get the feeling that that would be an exceedingly bad idea."

    Jon gets a chuckle and nods. "I can see it. Terry is 8.5 on the gay Richter scale." She frowns slightly as her friend is doing... /something/ to the piano. "Please don't do anything rash or foolish to our sentient piano. We just got her."
Terry O'Neil "I am /very/ disaster gay!" Terry admits, coming to rest by the piano for the sake of equilibrium. "Let me tell you how disaster I am! I couldn't admit to the guy I liked that I liked him and instead I got him accidentally attacked by a mutant turtle monster from under the sea, and then he spent weeks in my home recuperating and I couldn't even /say/ anything and /he/ couldn't even say anything and..." flails.

Some drops of mead fly here and there. "SIX MONTHS! Six months. It took Donna and Lois and Colette /and Harley/ working together to get us to even say anything to each other about it and /that's/ the kind of disaster I am!"

He looks triumphant, and then he seems to realize that isn't a good thing, necessarily. "oh."
Rien D'Arqueness "Them! Billy is a them, no gender, just sentience... poor thing didn't even have a name..." Rien calls out towards Lydia, lifting her mug for another swallow, then muttering into it, "I can relate." She stares at the mead for a moment, like it's somehow the alcohol's fault.

WHen she looks back to the others, she ends up looking back to Jon and giving a nod, "I didn't even know I could share in it, but I was actively touching Michael at the time, and he is an Archangel, so I expect the rules were a little different. It was... roughly 14 billion years of hi-def, 4K, full surround sound memories. My head -still- hurts trying to process it all. I'm lucky I'm on my feet right now."
Cael Becker     "Well. You vant to drink //our// blood," Cael remarks casual. "But you don't. So that's nice. Lydia is, I have to say, the //nicest// vampire I know! We should get her a medal. Or trophy or something."
    There's another sip of mead, before she adds with a giggle. "I still don't- how can a piano be- IT'S A PIANO!" It's ridiculous. The whole thing is ridiculous.
    Her attention, ever wandering, shifts to Terry as she adds, "I told Jon he wasn't my friend. And then- well. That we were //just// friends. But then like- I kissed him. He was hurting, and scared, and I just- I kissed him. On his couch. In his home. Without like- telling Martin first, I mean- who DOES that? I'm just... the worst. The absolute worst. Disaster- uhhh..." She tries to categorize herself, and fails. Because she's certainly not a 'disaster gay.' "Disaster."
Sara Pezzini Sara continues to watch as everyone in the room, save for Lydia and herself, slip slowly into inebriation. It was amusing really, listening to how the conversational trains of thought kept either derailing or taking the off-shoot onto another track. Sitting back down with her cup of coffee, two sugars, one cream, she holds the cup in hand with a huge smile on her face.

"Cael, come on, the piano has feelings too you know," she adds on with a grin. "They have sentience, the same as a living, breathing person... be nice to them."
Lydia Dietrich     "Them," Lydia corrects herself. "My apologies, Billy." She shakes her head at the antics of those who are getting drunk. "I can't even begin to imagine what kind of hangover they're going to have," she asides to Sara. "I hope when we open these doors to get back we can specify /which/ door it's going to open."
Hope Svelgate The mead doesn't seem to be having too much affect on the blonde Scandinavian woman other than to bring some more color to her expression. Or well it would if you could see her actual expression beneath the illusion of her mortal self. To bring a touch of buzz to even her inhuman flesh is the magic of Asgardian mead.

Lydia gets a glance when she informs Lady Death of being a vampire. It's an appraising look, one can only guess what experiences she might have had with vampires in the past. "I see." And then Rien is peppering her with questions about being dead. "None of it works like that, if you can still heal you're not dead yet, not until the soul departs and when that happens, it does not return without ...intervention."
Jonathan Sims     "Billy is not his name. He is Nameless." Jon's brow furrows. "He doesn't understand what gender even... is, but he uses 'he/him' pronouns. And when I say 'he doesn't understand what gender is' I don't mean like me, going 'what the fuck even is gender, why is it weird for someone who has facial hair to want to wear a skirt.' I have a concept of gender even if that concept is 'this is a weird concept.' I mean literally the concept is entirely foreign to Nameless."

    Jon's accent softens a /lot/ when he's drunk, but also his diction gets more pronounced. Crisper tones, but way less 'posh' sounding. Like he's speaking very carefully. "He says he's here to serve those who reside in the castle on orders of his master, whoever /that/ is, and is happy to provide information if there are any questions he is able to answer."

    They open their eyes and look around at Rien. "I did that." They tap the side of their head. "Michael's statement is in the Archive, and my descendants will probably be parsing it out for the rest of eternity. I... /do/ that. It's how I judge the souls of immortals. Maaaaaybe that's why I exist? I mean. The Archive exists but I'm the Archivist, sooo... ipso facto. I wonder, y'know? Why do I exist when you've got Ghost Riders running around going I AM VENGEANCE like... like... I dunno, they're kinda full of themselves sometimes. But! Maybe. Because they can't handle it the way the Archive can." They look a little smug at that.

    They frown and reach for the glass of mead. "Did hurt, though."
Cael Becker     "Sara - it's a //piano//. I don't- how does a thing get sentient? It doesn't make sense. ASK IT HOW A THING GETS SENTIENT. God. Why is magic so fucking silly?" Cael lets out a heavy sigh. "Pianos don't have feelings," she mutters under her breath. "Bear has feelings. Don't you Bear? Who's a good boy, huh? You hate it when Jon and I pass out on the couch - don't you? Good boy." The dog's tail thumps happily on the floor - as Cael scratches at his head.
Lydia Dietrich     "There have been times, Jon, where I have been tempted to let you take my statement," Lydia says, but then shakes her head. "But I'm not sure I want to know what kind of judgement you'd come up with. Maybe in another hundred years or so I'll go to whoever is the next Archivist and give it to them."

    "Oh, speaking of which, I need to get /your/ statement about how it ended," she says, and takes another sip of the mead. "Can you do something like a /reverse statement? Like... show me what you had experienced?" She shakes her head "Regardless, once I get yours then I need to get Michael's. And then I put the book together." She scowls and contemplates her drink. "I still don't know what I'm going to do with it, though. I'm not going to publish it, I don't think."
Robbie Reyes Reyes has been off, meantime, sampling the mead. And, by the look on his face, finding it lacking. Or maybe it was Jon's comment about him being full of himself. He pours the cup of hooch out when he thinks no-one's looking, and asides to Jon, "Betcha'd like to take a crack at what I've got in my head, then. After that whole.." He waves a gloved hand to indicate *that shit with Michael*.
Terry O'Neil "Objects can have souls," Vorpal says, and then he glances at Robbie, "Tell 'em! Haven't they heard of the soul of things? or is that the internet of things?" Another sip from the mead. "I could swear it was one of those- maybe the internet of souls and the objects of net? Case in point, objects can have life! I mean, I mean! I mean! You have synthoids, who aren't organic, right? Like Viv? Viv Visississision? Vivi... Her. And she's very much a person!"
Jonathan Sims     Jon closes their eyes again. "Why twenty-two?" they murmur. And then, "...0 to 21? That's a useless fucking..." A pause. "'The steps of the journey to growth number 22.' Oh, fuck off with the cryptic /bullshit/."

    After a moment he adds, "Nameless says one does not 'get' sentient, one simply 'is.' But... he once had a form that was separate from the piano. That form was inefficient to the task he was made for. This form--the piano, presumably--suits the purpose of his creation just as well. But you're right, Cael, he doesn't really have feelings beyond the desire to play." He opens his eyes. "Hunh. He's also grateful for the chance to expand his repretoire"

    He reaches out to pick up the glass again, as the piano starts 'Piano Man' once more. "I don't know if I'm going to... look, the whole bloody /point/ of the Watcher, or Archivist, or whatever I'm calling myself today--the Great Bloody God Ma'at?--was to protect mortals from things more powerful that went rampaging around like... well... like Michael. Everything dies eventually, and judging the /dead/ isn't my job. It's determining whether or not something /ought/ to be dead."

    He's definitely at that point of drunk where he probably thinks he's not slurring his words, but he /is/. For /sure/. He peers around at Robbie, leaning on the piano. "Ohhh, I'd like to. I'd like to take /everyone's/ statement. But, see, problem with /that/ is that I /dream/ them all the bloody fucking time, so I wind up with, say, my girlfriend's /very/ worst memories in my dreams. For all of eternity! And Agnes gets that too. And, umm... well, Agnes' kid, if she has one. Or whichever third cousin gets the Archive after her." He wrinkles his nose, frowning. "Some bloke in Sussex, I think? I dunno, met the guy, like, /once/, at Gran's funeral." He takes another drink of the mead. "Glad to talk to you, Lyd. I'll... think of something, I'm sure. Oh! Oh, maybe I'll record a statement and then /play/ it for you!" Nobody should look that much like a child discovering a new game about such a nerdy thing as Jon does at /that/ idea.
Sara Pezzini Sara offers Lydia a wink at her comment over hang overs, wondering herself what kind they would have from the mead, but she wouldn't directly comment on it right now. She'd be seeing the hang overs tomorrow most likely.

As Robbie returns however, she sits up a bit more and her eyes shift to him just in time to watch him pour out the Asgardian mead... oh well, it wasn't for everyone, right? Really she was watching him because she wasn't entirely sure what his Rider would do in a situation like this, and she wasn't certain if Robbie would or could keep it all in check. Everyone else, save for Lydia and Rien, had been drinking, which meant she would keep her eyes on Robbie to make sure nothing happened.
Rien D'Arqueness Rien looks to Hope and lifts a shrug, "Well, I've died. Like... medically, no brain waves, no heartbeat. But I still manage to come back. Hell, I died 58 times the other day. Though there -was- magic involved in that one, so it was pretty much instantaneous revival. That's why I was born. So I could fight a demon, for all eternity. They wanted me immortal so even if it killed me, I would come right back and keep fighting. I was just supposed to... fight it, and banish it. Make sure it gets sent back to Hell every ten years." She smiles, "It gets weird from there, though. And I don't have to fight the demon anymore, I don't think." She frowns, "Or maybe it isn't really death, I don't know. It hurts a lot. Outside of my magical wheelhouse. I'm more.. spells and enchantments, channeling..." She lifts her mug, "To being nameless!" Another drink is taken before she sets it aside. "Is this drunk? Iiiiiiinteresti-ROBBIE!" She seems pleased to see him and waves, perfectly upright but far more 'sharing' than normal.

"Jon you should ask Nameless if he knows anything about the castle or the former master. If we know who he is, we might be able to get a better grip on what to expect in here. Also, ask him what kind of music he likes!"
Cael Becker     "Oh. ...God. Agnes is gonna see me on- on the cross?" Cael asks. "Agnes is going to- to see me when I- I //stabbed// you, Jon. She's gonna- shit." Shit. "//Fuck//. Can we- can get get something //out// of the archive once it's- she shouldn't see that!" she protests, hunching down in her seat while Bear lets out a worried whine, nuzzling at her leg.
    Thoroughly distracted from sentient pianos, she frowns worriedly, while stroking Bear's head distractedly. "I'm fine, Bear..."
Lydia Dietrich     "It's the number of major arcana in a tarot deck," Lydia says to Jon. "Which has been mean to interpret the cycle of growth and knowledge."
Terry O'Neil "Wait... you got to get to twenty two to grow?" Terry says. He is clearly sauced at this point. "Oh man... that means I've got... like... two years left to go!" He says, "That means I've got... like... a lot of growing to do. I should probably... lie down? Yeah. I'm a growing boy, so I should probaby-"

He slides down, more than lies down. But it's more or less the same. The floor is comfortable. "Gotta get to growin'."
Robbie Reyes Well, the kid hasn't gone all carrot top yet, so either the demon's gone dormant.. or he's waiting for a juicy opportunity to fuck things up.

"You're drunk," he informs Jon, and reaches for another beer. Beer's safe, right? Right. Then someone's shouting his name, and he looks over to find Rien waving at him like he's been missing for years. A quick murmur to Sara's accompanied by a dimpled grin (courtesy of two beers), and then he's prowling over to where Rien's sitting.
Jonathan Sims     "Nameless likes all music." Jon snorts. "Ask a musician what kind of music they like, get a silly answer. The castle has existed longer than Nameless has. Its former master was fond of cards, masks, and obsessed with the understanding the nature of the human spirit. I... suppose tarot makes sense then? I need to study that more." They frown. "The butterflies are... aesthetic, and emmisaries of change, and symbols of metamorphosis."

    He'd be perfectly happy to listen to Rien talk about her life--because that actually sounds /really/ interesting--and he's about to ask, when Cael freaks out a bit and Jon sighs. "She'll be Archivist by then, and frankly, she'll have seen a hell of a lot worse. That's what we do. That's what we /are/. We bear witness, so we can judge, and keep the Balance. She'll have her own trials to face, her own awful statements and dreams and whatever-the-fuck else. But, gods willing, she'll be an adult by then."

    He peers at Robbie again. "Mmmm. Yeaah, pretty drunk. Proooobably more than I think I am? You're all... sparkly." A pause. "No, not... I mean... auras, I can see... I can't filter... emotions. Auras." He waggles the green hand in the air. "I thiiiink I preferred the glitter. No offense, LD... or should we call you Hope...? No offense, because, this is /amazing/ stuff. The mead. And it's... look normally I have to drink a /looot/ of whiskey to get this far and I will proooobably be throwing up at some point here. But it's not as much /fun/, y'know? It's, umm. It'd be good, a sip or two, before a show. Damn, I miss singing."
Sara Pezzini Sara offers Robbie a single nod as she pats him lightly on the arm, letting him pass by without saying anything in response. There were some things in the nature of who she was, without Witchblade, that would never change. Being over protective was one of them. Everyone in this room, even Lady Death whom she personally did not know, were friends that she would fight for and with. That meant, to her at last, that each was worth protecting while they had a good time, and be able to relax after the long ordeal they'd all been through.

"Jon, you are three sheets to the wind my friend," she comments with a chuckle. "I would urge someone to find a bucket and have it ready, and when the time is right, I. E. Jon is almost falling down, we find a couch to lay him on."
Terry O'Neil "Def'nly three shits to the wind here!" Terry says, from the vicinity of the floor. "But nobody bother me. I'm busy bein' a tree and growing." He's curled up. He's managed to either conjure up or find a blanket, of all things, and curled himself up with it. After a few seconds, he is snoring. Fortunately, the enchanted glitter remains orbiting him instead of falling to the ground. Small mercies.
Cael Becker     "She shouldn't have to see her- her- God, I'm not her fucking aunt, what the fuck am I? She shouldn't have to see ME, stab her PARENT!" Cael insists, before letting out a frustrated sigh. "...fine. Fine. Whatever. But at some point we should- we should warn her. Let her know that's in there so she's not just... just //blindsided// by it someday. She could be grieving, for fuck's sake, and- she shouldn't be blind-sided by that shit, is all."
    She takes another sip of the mead - it doesn't seem to occur to her that maybe she should stop doing that. "Jon - if you want to sing, //sing//!" she insists. "...can I come sit with you and listen to you sing? I like that."
Rien D'Arqueness Rien smiles brightly when Robbie approaches, the buzz already starting to clear out now that she's not imbibing more. Damned healing factors. Still, she enjoys it while she can, waiting until he's close enough, then leaning in against him, "You're warm and you smell good. That mead is awesome." Looking back to Jon, she grins, "I'm not a musician, I just... picked things up. Some skills, some languages... just... things! Also, oooooooooooo... you need to get my statement at some point. That's going to be fun."
Jonathan Sims     Jon stares at Cael for a moment. "What d'you think... that's what I'm /training/ her for! Magic's easy, magic's... whatever." They wave a hand, float the now-empty mead glass over to the barrel, dip it in. "She's got you and Martin for... shooting and driving and physical shit. Emotions, that's me. She'll be /prepared/ for being Archivist, not... not just the action-y bits, but the... the pain and grief and..."

    They frown at the glass of mead floating in the air in front of them. "I took the statements of every single person that died fighting the angels in Manhattan. Well. Every one that I could find. They live here now." They place a hand on their chest. "Inside me. Forever."

    He suddenly grabs the glass out of the air, takes a drink, then says, "Meant a band. Meant... mmm. Doesn't matter. Another life. One I didn't get to lead." He snorts. "Happy endings. I've got a whole song for /that/. Who's /happy/?" He shifts to singing, briefly, to something that sounds like the Tetris theme, of all things.

~Our sacrifice shall pay the price
Of doing our duty for what is right
The names of our fallen shall long be sung
In ballad and poem for years untold...~

    It doesn't match with 'Piano Man,' but he doesn't seem to care. He shakes his head, and pushes away from the piano. "Just give me a call," he says to Rien. "Think I'm gonna need that couch in a mo'." He eyes the glass of mead, downs the rest, and then stumbles over to one of the couches like he is, indeed, going to just... sleep there.
Sara Pezzini Why hadn't Sara thought of snorting the teenager, riiiight, he's a teenager. Her eyes shift over to Rien when she hears how warm and good Robbie smells, a smirk playing on her lips before she looks back toward Jon and those around the piano. Well now she knew why Robbie was behaving. Looking down at her coffee cup on the table, she picks it up as she stands, moving to find a location a little less center of the room and more like gloomy corner to match her mood.
Cael Becker     Jon starts to sing - and Cael gets to her feet - unsteadily toddling over to him. She settles onto the couch, snuggling into his arms - and making it there just as he's finishing the brief snippet of song. "Noooo," she complains. "Keep going." She rests her head on his chest, letting her eyes fall closed.
    "I know you're going to be teaching her," she adds in a quiet murmur. "I just- I don't know. She shouldn't see that stuff.
    "...can we write a ballad?" she asks. "So Amit will be remembered? He was a good kid. A real good kid."
Robbie Reyes Jon gets up, and Reyes slides right in to take his place at the piano bench. Fortunately, he happens to like the blonde who's currently occupying it. Enough, in fact, to settle in close and let her lean against his side. "That might be the mead," he explains of how he smells. "That was kind of a bust." He's lying. He tried one sip of it and dumped the rest in a potted plant. Though she is probably smelling the cigarette he smoked a few minutes ago, and the shower he took before he headed over here.

"Having a good time?" he asks as he plunks at a key or two on the piano, dark gaze traveling back to Sara.. and staying there. His brows knit in concern.
Lydia Dietrich     Lydia just shrugs. "Like I said. I've made my peace with how I'm going to end. I've already died once, so I know how it goes." She watches as everybody gets stinkin' drunk off the mead and just sighs as she looks at her cup. "I think I'm going to add 'getting drunk' to the list of things I burn. Though," she amends, "I kind of get drunk off of blood. It's not the same, mind you, in many ways it's better."

    "I'll help teach Agnes where I can," she says. "I think having an immortal vampire teach you English could be enlightening."
Jonathan Sims     "Don't want to remember," Jon murmurs. "Want to forget. Buuuut I don't. I remember eeeeverything. So I'll remember tonight, 'cause I do. Every stupid fight and questionable situation my questionable drunk judgement eeeever got me into. All the battles. All the pain. And the dying. That was... fun." Sarcasm drips from his tone.

    He stares up at the ceiling. "We're supposed to be--celebrating. A war. Hah. What /was/ I thinking? I can /feel/ the... tension and pain and... frustration in the air. Uggggh. Have I mentioned I hate telepathy? I do. I hate it. It's awful. I should be allowed to /not know things/."

    He shakes his head. "Need to sleep. Just..." He waves a hand, like he's trying to wave off... being awake, maybe? "Just lemme sleep."
Rien D'Arqueness Rien inhales again, then chuckles, "No it wasn't." She doesn't elaborate on which 'it' she means, just resting her head on his shoulder, then smiling, "Would you like me to play something?" Her features light up, "Oh! I know a great song... Besame Mucho. Beautiful song, I heard a piano jazz cover of it once and had to learn it..."

She puts her fingers to the keys and starts playing, "Just listen to the music Jon! It's a great song!" Rien flashes a smile to Robbie, "What do you think?"
Cael Becker     "You know I love you," Cael murmurs back - as Jon's mood takes a nose dive, listening to their voice rumbling in their chest. "That's a good thing to know," she reminds him.
    Then - she starts to sing, even if it's only a few lines. (And Terry misses the whole thing.) "No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears - I'm here. Nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you..."
    Feel free to bring it up - she'll deny it ever happened.
Robbie Reyes Robbie doesn't recognise the tune, but he can appreciate the playing. "You're pretty good," he murmurs, focused on the way her nimble fingers move over the keys. Lower lip caught between his teeth, he's even smiling a little as he listens. Though his gaze roves back to Sara now and then. He'll have to check on her later, once things quiet down a bit.
Jonathan Sims     "Love you too," Jon murmurs. "Besame Mucho doesn't go with Phantom though. Here, it's..."

    And then, because he's nice and /does/ love Cael, he sings along with Rien's playing, to help them both sleep.