(no subject)

[hexappeal]

WHO: The Birthday Boy and Friends. And acquaintances.
WHERE: Bewitched.
WHEN: Friday, April 12th. 7pm - 11:30pm or so.
WARNINGS: Soon enough.
SUMMARY: The worst surprise party in the history of surprise parties.
FORMAT: Just make your own sub-threads and jam! Please remember to tag yourselves in!


Zatanna's club is more than modest in size and has a distinct art deco feel to it; the structure remains almost entirely as it was when she bought it aside from minor fixes (mostly make sure it was safe and clean). The glass ceiling that spans the lofty entrance makes for an interesting start. It's easier to get lost looking up than down the halls that curve to a vast library of strange and esoteric texts, dressing rooms, and various currently unused rooms that the magician has sealed and locked.

Past the ticket booth (and what appears to be a currently-closed gift shop of sorts) is the main show room and a few others to each side of it. While these aren't closed, there's nothing special about them for the moment. The interior of the main room is as it usually is, with no new decorations aside from plenty of balloons littered across the ceiling. The floor has left room for those who choose to dance, but plenty of tables and chairs for people to sit at. The bar is busy with more than one man behind it mixing drinks. On stage, there's a live band. Her employees are in the crowd mingling, entertaining guests when they see fit (and if they so choose); mostly, they're keeping to themselves and chatting with whoever catches their fancy.

Outside there are chauffeurs and large, burly men taking the invitations in exchange for entry. It isn't impossible to sneak in with fake ones or through other means...

Comments

open;

[doubleoohbaby]

[It's not a shock to say the surprise hadn't been a welcome one in the slightest. For all his attention seeking antics, James actually hates anything related to mass amounts of attention, especially from multiple people.

He knows Zee is doing this as some trolling act and he can't help but feel somewhat impressed by the level of trouble she's gone to to make his life miserable for a few hours, but even that thought doesn't cheer him up enough to be a social butterfly. He mingles every now and then, decides he might as well converse with anyone who's actually shown up (at least this 'party' somewhat displays who his friends are... and his enemies) and try and avoid some of the others, but for the most part, he seems far more interested in the selection of alcohol on offer.

Just the usual linefacing Bond with various different glasses of alcohol in his hand through the evening and decked in the usual finely tailored suit.]

[out_of_time]

[Jack can see just how thrilled James is about this state of affairs. He can sympathize. Ordinarily he wouldn't have come, partly out of bro solidarity and partly because he has a bunch of anti-Vulcanus stuff to pull together, but Zatanna is really, really bad at taking 'no' for an answer. So Jack's plan is to get in, give James his present, and get out before he can be ensnared in anything awkward or hideous. Thus, he approaches with a package under his arm.]

Happy birthday, James.

[doubleoohbaby]

[Clearly bro solidarity means nothing to Jack! James can't help but continue with his grumping through most of the night, and even the sight of a free man can't quite get a smile out of him. It can get plenty of sarcasm though, judging by James' response.] Bauer, you really shouldn't have.

[No. Really. He shouldn't.]

[out_of_time]

Yeah, well, I wasn't going to get you anything, but I didn't want to disappoint Zee. Here.

[He hands James the package. Inside he will find a lovely kit of accessories and maintenance tools for a variety of handguns.]

[doubleoohbaby]

Was gift giving compulsory?

[Actually, he wouldn't be surprised if it were, so he's not going to argue it too much. Gifts aren't really a thing he'd normally go for, but seeing as he seems to be forced to take a fair few, he's not going to argue too much. He at least offers up a muttered 'thank you' as he accepts the gift, ridding himself of his empty glass and opening up the package and glancing just long enough to assess if it'll be any use to him.]

Hn. And here I thought you'd be discouraging my continued use of firearms.

[out_of_time]

She has a way of making things compulsory. Like parties. But you already knew that.

[Jack smirks. At least he got a 'thank you.']

Now why would I do that? You and your guns come in handy sometimes.

[doubleoohbaby]

[It takes a man of Jack's great insight to realise that thank you means something when it comes from James.]

And if I recall, me and my guns have saved your arse more than a few times. So really, this-- [He very briefly raises the package into their line of sight.] -- is just an insurance package for yourself.

[viced]

[ Mitchell can tell the signs of a miserable James Bond. He'd been bodyguarded by the guy often enough that he can see the signs of stress when he's been pushed just a bit too far. He may be socially stupid, but repetition still bears that he can pick up on things.

So he swings close with two drinks. One supposedly for himself, but he's barely touched it, and the other for James, which he hands over with surprising smoothness. He gives him a half-smile, something bordering on exasperated. ]

Don't get too excited about turning another year older.

[doubleoohbaby]

[While the drink is appreciated, Mitch still gets a huff of annoyance at the approach, an obvious and fairly childish (and totally passive aggressive) display that he'd rather be left alone at his own party.

That doesn't mean he can't accept the drink when it's offered.]

I'm nearing fifty. I can feel senility already setting in.

[viced]

[ He choked a somewhat fake laugh. He could appreciate the sentiment of getting older. He didn't even let the huff bother him. He could bulldoze through any passive aggressive annoyance. After all, he was a politician. ]

Can't we all? Hell, I'm turning 45 this year. We're all getting fucking old.

[doubleoohbaby]

When the fuck did I get older than you? You're supposed to be the old git.

[Wow, way to raise his depression, Mitch. Just let him down the rest of his drink all in one because he totally needs all this alcohol to survive tonight.]

[viced]

Hey! [ He waves a hand. ] Why do I have to be the old fuck? Can't we both be old shit's and just get pissy with eveyrone else?

[carbonite]

Surprise.

(It can't be that bad, come on. Han leans against the bar, holding a beer and that suit that James bought him ages ago. He gets a little worried, seeing that drink in James' hand, not forgetting that the guy did avoid him by crawling out of a window.)

Y'know, we could slip away for a bit. No one would notice.

[doubleoohbaby]

I hate surprises.

[But he does love his alcohol, so Han can be as concerned as he likes about seeing James cradling a generous round of scotch, but there's no way he's going to successfully get James to put it down.]

I'm not exactly sure if you're hitting on me or not, Captain.

[carbonite]

That's because you're an old coot.

(maybe if he just gently reached over and grabbed it before throwing it and running away like a gentleman. james is a grown man, and he can make his own decisions. he just doesn't know if he's doing the right thing by letting him do it.)

I'll let you have that one. (it's his birthday. han digs into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys.)

It's outside.

[doubleoohbaby]

[Pfft, just rolling his eyes at the 'old coot' comment, he might have even complained about it eventually but then he's hearing a set of keys jingling their way out of Han's suit pocket.]

Outside? We're going for a drive?

[carbonite]

(it's the perfect pavlovian reaction, really. han grabs his beer and james' scotch from his hands, leading him outside.)

And a little fly.

(later that night)

[allbloodyhail]

Here. [A bottle of scotch is shoved into Bond's arms, wrapped in festive cellophane with little grapes all over it. It's pretty nice scotch, but not spectacular.] ...Happy birthday, huh?

[doubleoohbaby]

You could at least sound like you mean it, Fido. [But hell, he's not going to turn down alcohol, even if he is trying to subtly take a glance at the make and year of it without seeming too interested.]

[allbloodyhail]

"Fido." [He only mouths the words, then rolls his eyes as he remembers why James might call him that.] You don't seem too excited for your birthday, mate, so why should I?

[doubleoohbaby]

You didn't have to come, I did. [Still going to keep hold of that bottle though.] At least you brought something, I suppose.

[allbloodyhail]

[he actually stole it from the bar, at least he got a wrap for it from... somewhere. the world may never know. he's p thoughtful though, party crashing aside.]

Guess I'll just bugger off, then. Let you return to the rest of your adoring fans.

[waiting]

Happy fucking birthday.

[ Despite what he'd said to Zee on the network, Bradbury's actually decently dressed for the occasion, in a suit that actual fits and hangs right, just in case -- well, just in case. In terms of a present, he already knows Bond can probably buy whatever the hell he wants anyway, so he knows it's the thought that counts, and Bradbury is nothing if not thoughtful. He's cradling his own drink in his hand, mostly untouched, but he takes a sip as he slaps his present into James' hand.

Which is, if he cares to open it, a kama sutra-themed playing card deck (with, yes, people in various sexual positions instead of where the numbers should be). What do you get the man who can get everything? Something tacky, of course. ]

You look like you're at a funeral, you know.

[doubleoohbaby]

[In James' defence, he's at least managed to mingle with numerous others at the party, more so out of necessity than any real want to do so. But, as is often the case, he looks fairly miserable for the extent of the evening. By the time Bradbury is approaching, he's rolling his eyes and reluctantly accepting the gift.]

I should be so lucky. A funeral would be more entertaining than this, especially if it were my funeral.

[waiting]

At least there's booze. [ He raises his glass as if to demonstrate, though he doesn't take a drink. He's quiet for a few moments, then he pipes up. ]

You've heard of spite fences, right? You know, when people build shit just to block their neighbor's view and to piss them off?

[ With the hand holding his glass, he gestures out at the room. ]

So is this a spite party?