I'll just live on in the Dark

[motherflocker.livejournal.com]

WHO: Anyone heading to the Iceberg Lounge
WHERE: At a damn fine building downtown
WHEN: 12/12; Night
WARNINGS: Will be edited if necessary.
SUMMARY: Opening night!
FORMAT: Whatever you want! Tag yo'selves in!



Walking into the bar is like walking into a wide open room, but the dimmed lights never seem to be bright enough to catch every detail in one swoop. To the far right wall is the bar, and a long bar it is, with bartenders lining it spaced by about five feet or so in between. Nobody actually sits at the bar, of course. The bartenders are there to make drinks for the servers. While both the bartenders and server girls wear tuxedos, the women's are made for the intent to actually catch the eye, of course. Fishnets replace slacks, dressshirts cut much lower than necessary, and tophats on each woman's head. They grin, and flirt, and make their way, but the moment a hand drifts too far, there's the legion of bouncers who line the walls, watching for any infraction. The Penguin is, after all a chauvenist, but he is no pig.

The middle of the wide area is devoted to tables, an endless sea of white clothed tables, each one a unique and different ice sculpture in the center. Each one unique, lit from beneath with a light that lets an almost wet light radiate from each table.

And of course to the left is the stage, performers that never cease to move, or sing, or whatever is up for the next part of the night. Breaks between each are sparse, quick, and the music never becomes too loud. And the stage, it is lined with penguins. A bit of irony, perhaps, but Penguin wouldn't begrudge his prior career as a gotham rogue. Perhaps he even reveled in the reminder. Out there for everyone to see.

Regardless, there would be no grand plots or schemes tonight. Just a party.

Comments

[bodysnatchers]

[Seems a little late in life for her to start now. :|]

What red-blooded male wouldn't? You're a knock-out. [And she gussies up nice too. But he won't belabor the point. Just flag down one of the serving ladies.] What're you drinking?

[hexappeal]

[:| :| :|]

Merlot. [She put some amount of effort into it, at least. She only dresses like a hobo when she knows she can get away with it. It might've deferred the Penguin's advances, had she come in a track suit, hm...] So, what color's your blood tonight?

[bodysnatchers]

[She kept him waiting for forty minutes what do you expect. :|

He orders another round for the both of them, his another scotch. So innocently~:] Me? I run on diesel.

[hexappeal]

[More than she deserves?]

Oh, that's a relief! That means I have my choice of who to go home with tonight!

[bodysnatchers]

[Clearly. :| He's taken aback by that comment, shifting from his reclining position against the bar and glaring into his drink so he doesn't have to at her.]

You can do whatever you want. Didn't realize I was imposing...

[hexappeal]

Don't take it so seriously. I was teasing. [Here is that moment where she gently punches his shoulder. It is only mildly awkward.] I came here with you, I'll leave here with you. By choice.

[bodysnatchers]

[He can talk to anyone else if he wants to feel like a burden okay. :c Eventually, he settles down a little.]

If you say so.

[hexappeal]

Don't make that face. [Now she feels terrible, but deservedly so. The hard part is admitting to herself that she does.] There's no one else I'd rather be here with.

[Mostly true.]

[bodysnatchers]

Uh huh. [He doesn't really believe her, but she had invited him. Might as well act as if he's supposed to be here.

The band are playing Benny Goodman. Boston pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.] You dance?

[hexappeal]

[Though tempted to make a catty comment about his glasses, she avoids it somehow. (How daunting, to be nice!)] You know I do. You asking?

[bodysnatchers]

My lady. [He bows faux-deferentially and holds out a looped arm for her to take.]

[hexappeal]

[She slides her arm around his and allows him to take the lead... except for the part where she's the one doing the dragging, but who around here is paying attention to that?] How's your evening been so far?

[bodysnatchers]

[Oh how surprising. :| He irately allows himself to be hauled towards the dancefloor, trying not to trip over his feet on account of her quick but short lady strides.]

Oh, just -- hey, watch it! [He jerks out of on-coming traffic.] -- just terrific...

[hexappeal]

[She has long legs. :(]

Oh, sorry. [She slows her pace down, but it's a little too late. They're already in a nice, open space where she won't accidentally elbow someone in the ribs. She unlatches herself from him and slides a hand over his shoulder.] Let's keep it PG, shall we?

[bodysnatchers]

[But still shorter than manlength. :| Even if this guy is not terribly tall.

Cut free from his Zatanna moorings, he uncrumples his jacket, straightens his tie, fixes his hair, and places his right hand on her back. She'd better not have two left feet because he wants to jive.] You're no fun at all.

[hexappeal]

[She hadn't even put forth the effort to smooth out her dress. She's very selectively concerned with her appearance.] Hey, I'm all the fun. I just don't know where that body of yours has been.

[bodysnatchers]

[She can look like a hot mess because she owns parties like these. Boston's a shmoe that's more at home in a dive bar with a scratchy old jukebox. Or a makeshift dancehall under circus tarpaulin where the band plays Elvis and Carl Perkins. He misses dancing okay. :c]

I oughta be offended on his behalf. Speaking of bodies, what do you reckon? This one look good on me?

[hexappeal]

[She may very well, but it also means she has to at least attempt some measure of decency. She can't even get tipsy without it becoming an ordeal. Not that when she goes out that that would be the first goal. She's not quite that girl who just needs to dance, but if that's why she's going out, it's what she'll do. And hell, it's New York, she doesn't have to listen to house music here!]

Hm? [She pulls back a few inches, as if she hadn't looked him over already.] Not really my type, but I'm sure you'd have no problem getting a date or twenty with it.

[bodysnatchers]

[Boston died before house music was invented, so he's still largely ignorant to the terrible state of the dancing affairs of contemporary youth culture. He still thinks P-Funk is cool. :(]

There's no pleasing some people. I should have brought rickety ol' Mr. Wilson from next door.

[hexappeal]

[It could always be worse...? Certainly, it could.]

I'm not into the clean-cut, pretty guys. Anyway, he can't dance and if you make him, he'll have some serious aches tomorrow. [She also doesn't think that they'd have let him hang out without a crowd. Old, unhip dudes aren't good publicity for an exclusive club... And more genuine:] Thank you for coming with me.

[bodysnatchers]

You'd have complained I was embarrassing you if I'd shown up unshaven and dressed down like I wanted.

[Unfortunately he left most of his own remaining sincerity in the bottom of several glasses throughout the evening.] Couldn't let some other poor sucker wind up propping up the bar by himself all evening, could I?

[hexappeal]

And then I'd magic you into a tux and it'd all work out! [Dude's still pretty scrawny. But whatever. She'd danced with worse.]

Hey, you could've come dragged me away at any time.

[bodysnatchers]

I ain't wearin' a tux. [Is not! Why can he never win. :(]

Oh, sure, I could just wander aimlessly through this massive and crowded place like a dope. [Which he did. :(] At least I could find a drink at the bar.

[hexappeal]

John said the same thing, not long ago... [He just can't. :(]

You didn't have to wander like a dope. You could've wandered like... [Man, she has to offer some sort of compliment now, doesn't she? There's the slightest struggle here, internally, to say something terrible. The battle of good vs. evil can be seen on her face for a split-second.] Like my date. [NICE SAVE!! (Ish.)]

I didn't mean to get held up, really. [She is being cute and sincere. How can you not forgive her?]

[bodysnatchers]

He had the right idea. If they're so fancy how come the bartenders are wearing 'em? Who wants to look like the bartender? [Especially when she's playing the Constantine card. That's just emotional blackmail. :|]

Dated the Wandering Jew, did you? [This is almost as bad as that time when she was magically evil. Except they weren't bickering in the middle of a dance that time.] You just forgot about me.