capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

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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...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Unfortunately I can't confirm or deny that statement. How convenient! [She is somewhat grateful for the change in subject. She spins the chair a bit to scan the crowd.] I think he's off in the restricted areas, since it's quiet there and he can be alone. He'll show his face sooner or later.

Well... good. Gives me time to put together a gift. He's gotta be what? Sixty years old or thereabout. [He's referring to the first James Bond short story, released in 1953 :'| ]

He's forty-five. We were the same age last year, but then he was ported out... [She can understand that he's a big glum about aging. He's closer to fifty than not in less than six months.]

Bummer. [he doesn't seem all that empathetic, however.]

...do you want to talk about something else?

Mortality is a bit of a dull subject, for me.

You too, probably. [he punctuates his words with a long drink.]

I'm young in the grand scheme of things, but yeah. It can get boring.

...how are the kitties?

Better, thanks for asking. Guess I really should look into adopting the little buggers out.

I wouldn't want to live with me either.

That's a lot for anyone to take care of.

You should keep one, still.

We'll see.

You must have a favorite!

It's hard to say. Never really had a pet before... [oh, slight grimace. woops.] Not in the traditional sense, anyway.

Should... I ask? [She literally makes this face.]

Probably best to leave it.

If that's what you want.

[A spark of anger explodes behind his eyes, but then he glances back down at his drink, resigned to this.] Doesn't matter what I want. [flatly]

[This is when she takes his drink and doesn't give it back, pressing a hand down firmly in front of him with a thud.] What the hell is your problem?

[He laughs, the laughter of a man condemned. It's hollow, mirthless laughter, and it's gone as soon as he'd started up. Spike flips to face her, stepping off the stool when she takes his drink--and promptly almost falls into her. But he straightens himself out and manages to look only a little cross-eyed. It's funny how you get drunker the moment you try to stand.]

You. You're my problem, alright? Is that what you wanna hear? Since day zero you've been-- [He's already losing a little steam, and his heart feels constricted even if he knows his heart isn't even alive to feel anything. But he still does feel it, that tightness in his chest. He's in so far over his head and he can't even begin to swim to the surface.] He's a bloody fool for not seeing... You, the way you are.

[It's clear he means James by wild gesturing and the fact that they are at his party, after all...]

I'm just going to go. [He shoved his hands in his pockets, but hesitated, waiting to see if she would stop him.]

[She means to help steady him, but quickly decides to take a step back after the start of his spiel. Zatanna suddenly feels very much like an idiot and she visibly pales while averting her gaze. It's like the light switch has been turned on in that pretty little head of hers. This was bound to happen at some point, wasn't it? With how she flirts... She never meant to hurt anyone, though.]

I. [It's all she can really come up with. Her mouth feels dry all of a sudden and she knows alcohol certainly won't help with that, so she lets his glass slide out of her hand against the bar, all the while thinking just how much she could use that liquid courage right now. She still manages to muster it up and crosses the distance and almost pitifully takes the fabric of his shirt into a hand, giving it a tug while she slips a few fingers against his arm -- just barely there..] You should stay.

[His eyes widen and he looks down at her fingers pretty instantly before forcing himself to look back up into her face. Though he didn't need to breathe in the first place, it was something he did habitually anyway, and it goes a bit shallow with her this near. He can't think, his whole body feels warm and that isn't right either because the warmest he could possibly be is tepid.] So give me a reason to. [It's said softly, almost like he hadn't even meant to say it aloud, but he lets it hang there as he searches her eyes for any sort of recognition.]

[If there had been even the slightest doubt in her mind about what he had meant, if there had been any misconception about his phrasing? It was completely gone now. Part of her wants to sabotage everything, to ruin everything she's worked so hard for; it's easier. It's a way out of commitment, it's a way to close herself off.

But she can't and she won't.

Zatanna lifts her hand from his arm and brings it to the side of his face. He's so cold, but she should have expected that. She shakes her head, brows furrowed sympathetically.]

I can't do that and you know it. Our timing is off, we're out of sync. [But she can't crush him completely. She doesn't want to. She likes him. Everything about him, really.] Another time, another place.

If I had a nickel... [His smile is sad, but there's a warmth to it, an acceptance. Rejection is easy, it's familiar. But the way she says that even he knows she really could have feelings for him. At least he hadn't completely wasted his time. Or something.]

Sorry for mucking up your boyfriend's shindig, yeah? [he even has the decency to look a little abashed about it]

Don't do that. [She feels awful now and she knows of all the things she should be doing, taking a step into his personal space and slipping her arms around his neck isn't one of them. She wraps them together and gives him a squeeze.]

You're wonderful, Spike. Wonderful and friendzoned only under extenuating circumstances. [Reassuring him probably doesn't help any more than saying otherwise, right? At least it's confirmation that she is as attracted to him as she plays at being. After another squeeze she remains on the tip of her toes to meet his cheek with her lips in a kiss so soft it might as well not have happened. It's almost painful.] I am sorry, for whatever it may be worth.

[His hands slowly track up her back as he hugs her back, eyes closing. She's so warm and he really has to be leaving ...now. But then the hug is ending and she's kissing his cheek and this is like a friendzoning right out of a TV show. His TV show tbh.]

...Yeah, yeah. You don't have to make me feel better about it. I'm not some teenage girl who's off to slit her wrists over you.

I'm gonna go wish your beau a happy one, then see myself out. [He starts to back away, his eyes shining with something that very well could be fear.]

[Dude, she basically just said she'd be hitting that if it weren't for being in a long-term relationship. It really isn't too bad, is it?]

I'd hope not. I don't imagine I'm worth that sort of trouble. [She grabs for his hand before he leaves, clasping it tightly, then not so much as she curls her fingers around his before letting him continue.] Don't be a stranger, alright?