capeandcowllogs | So I'll tell you all the story

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So I'll tell you all the story

WHO: SHADE and CROSS
WHERE: A rather run down little bar
WHEN: 07/04, evening
WARNINGS: Debauchery, drinking, and fine ass victorian gentlemen
SUMMARY: Shade and Cross do shitty things like buy bars
FORMAT: Tagger's choice!

The point, according to Cross, had been to find a deal. The Shade, in all his wisdom, preferred something a bit more classy, than this. Bars that were dives could of course be something fantastic. A little hole, trapped away and left for nobody to find, unless you knew it existed could be a quaint discovery. Perhaps the fare or drinks were a hidden treasure. The place they were at, was not. It was dingy, and dark, which at least served to Shade's sensibilities, as he stepped from the shadows and into existence. The smoke trails of his shadow fabric wisping into nothing.

He looked around with an appraising eye. Slightly dirty, sticky, the floors clung to his shoes when he stepped, leaving a slight drag from the stickiness on the floor.

Disgusting. Then again, Shade could fit in anywhere, although if he gave a second glance wherever he wnet, well, he could hardly be blamed for it.

He looked for Cross, standing out like a sore thumb among the few patrons braving the low light and gross flooring.

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Where Shade chose a dive with a very unique clientele, Cross chose to rise above it. For his nights with Shade, he had been collecting a plethora of "vintage" suits that they were both used to. High waists, waistcoats, cravats and boots that went all the way up to his thighs. Even though he had his piercings (a new one had made it in the fray), he was still the most over dressed man there.

Finding Shade was easy- find the most unimpressed man in the bar. Top hat off, cane in hand he made his way.

"Shade, I fear that you might be losing your sight. This place is where the desperate go to find God." He purred in his best English accent, even attempting to sound like a character out of Wilde's books.

"Tell me this is not your way of saying you've given up."

The things he does for his timekinsmen.

Now, Shade was quite used to Cross's eccentricities, having seen him quite a few different veins. He recognized that the man was rather... well, odd. Not quite of the age anymore, he'd taken to immersion, rather than Shade's own observation, but his company was pleasant. Like many that Shade associated himself with, interesting.

He'd taken to dressing more similar to Shade, when they went out. He could only appreciate the irony of two men dressed to the nines by their standards, in a place like this.

He chuckled, softly, at the implication. He could read it like a book, and he almost took the soft amusement upward, into more of a full laugh. Oscar would have been offended!

"Given up? Me? My friend, I have all the time in the world, remember? A place like this seemed like something that could be improved on, and the lot of them can either go find god elsewhere, or improve upon themselves enough to meet our standards."

Cross crossed his long legs, giving the young lady across the way an eyeful of how very long they were indeed. The redhead always had an angle, especially during times between steady lovers.

"Ah yes, but you could be in defeat for all that time. That would be tragedy indeed- " He paused for a moment, gloved hand against his lips, "Save for marriage of course. Life long sentences, ordained and sentenced by God."

He never got time to enjoy the classics. Even though he was from the same time period, he had spent a lot of time either in labs or on the "battle field", never staying in one place for too long.

"In my case, it would be a rather long sentence, I'm afraid. You know how it goes, but then again, I would hardly think wedding would be appropriate at my age. I'm a bit old for most," he kept his voice, low, although with Cross playing the part of the rake, he found himself struggling to fall into place.

After all, he'd always been something of a rake himself, and what was someone like him, without a straight-man?

"Perhaps we should stray away from such dour topics, hm? No need to darken the mood."

"What a world we live in now! A handsome man at the ripe age of - " He waves his hand off randomly, as if he didn't want to imply that Shade was old or anything. It was rather amusing, really, to see Shade settle into a role of a "straight man" for Cross' own eccentricities.

"But, as I said, I am sure many women would love to defy the very rules of nature just to marry you."

Cross leaned forward, ordering an old fashioned (a charming drink from the colonies, he said in that fake laugh that he'd been plagued with whenever he was in London at the height of season) before turning to look at Shade.

"Dour topics, you say? Shade, you must know that unless they are topics of the very inappropriate kind, the majority of subjects are very, very dour."

"Ah, do you really believe they're that dour?" he asked, waving a hand in a fashion to the bartender, who knew to bring him, well, another glass of the wine he was favoring. He didn't trust the Absinthe here, and he fancied the idea of starting to make his own, if only to make it proper.

Nobody did it quite well enough.

"I would hardly want to saddle myself with someone who would only enjoy my lifestyle for so long. I'm afraid being married to a mortal would make me quite miserable," he paused, the ghost of a smile hinting on his lips.

"More miserable than with most marriages."

"We're starting to talk of morality? The hour is much too young." He retorts, his lips twisting into a frown that was quite disapproving.

What was it with bars here? Either they were too much of a dive and you just got into a drink and left, or they were too loud where you're supposed to have sex in a bathroom (which he has, and it wasn't all that great) or you get smashed and dance around like a loon. What happened to clubs were men would just sit, drink good liquor, tell good stories and then plot a night of mischief and misadventure?

That, he thought, was an art lost here.

"All marriages. Save the one of a man and his beloved tailor, I assure you. No one quite knows you like the man that makes you wear his creations."

If Shade could have heard the thought, he would agree, probably far too wholeheartedly. Now, Shade was normally alright with change, but there were some things that simply became lost with too much time, and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Sometimes, the changes weren't for the best.

"Fair enough. Although for some of us, a truly good tailor is one that comes once only every hundred years or so. It becomes difficult to always have the perfect suit," and he chuckled darkly, thinking on that for only a moment.

It was true, what he said. Shade rarely found the man who could cut a proper suit, and it was becoming more and more rare, as time passed. After all, his style was rapidly fading fully into history. "I may as well learn to do it myself."

It was getting harder and harder to keep this act up while he was this sober. But, really, how long ago was it that he actually had fun without some secret agenda? Considering his stay here, not too long ago, but the sentiment still counted.

The moment that his drink arrived, he took a gulp of it before spitting it back out in the glass and barking at the bartender, "I asked for liquor, not watered down water."

That got rid of the act, that's for sure.

"Is this the state of alcohol in the future, Shade?"

Shade didn't even taste his. He had a feeling that Cross's discerning tastes would be more than enough to weed out whether or not this was good, and even looking at his wine, he decided the color was just a bit too pale for what he ordered.

It likely was watered down. His lip curled into a slight sneer, and he pushed it away.

"I should dearly hope not. If it continues to deteriorate like this, I may as well go ahead and learn to brew my own, before it's too late and the art is lost." He was a bit of a lush, yes, he knew, but really, a man couldn't eat without the proper pairings.

And he wouldn't want to keep moving into the future, where a proper drink wasn't fully appreciated.

"I tried to microbrew once." Cross sighs, taking the liberty to climb over the bar and to make himself in the sort of manner that royally pissed off the bartender.

But, would you go head to head with a giant like Cross, who was built for a fight? Someone wants another drink, and Cross gives it to them, sliding the glass across the bar and pocketing the money for himself before pausing:

"What do you need for really, really good absinthe?"

Because, those were how good decisions were made.

The Shade shifted, watching Cross with a hint of amusement as he dove toward bartending, and Shade merely shifted, sitting in a barstool, almost languid in the way he moved. He crossed his legs, sipping at the drink with a wry sort of amusement.

"The real sort? Like they used to serve in France in my day? Wormwood, anise, fennel..." he waved a hand. "There are variations, of course, but the heart of the matter is the wormwood," he admitted, even while he watched the man work.

"It was a lost art for far too long, you know. Even now, they don't distill it properly."

Cross moved his fingers across the bottles, mumbling Artemisia absinthium over and over again of the different bottles. The bartender went to go get the owner on the phone, even as Cross started to make drinks for people as he went looking through their stocks that would make proper absinthe.

"Rum? Sub par. Beer? Sub par- but it's American beer, what are you going to get? Vodka? Terrible. Catherine the Great would have your head."

Cross sighed, crossing his arms and completely oblivious to the crowd that he was gathering.

Shade himself, he watched with some amusement. And the phone? Well, the line was well cut by the time the bartender got to it, a slip of shadows peeling away from the darkness, only to slither back and return to Shade's person after his goal was accomplished.

"I'm afraid none of them are appropriate. Some, of course, in the 90s thought to create it out of rum, or vodka. Disgusting."

Shade himself, he notices the crowed, but only with a flick of his gaze, before he returns his attention to cross.

They had absolutely nothing worth stealing. Cross frowned before he shot Shade a look- that was the last time that he let Shade pick the place. He hopped back over the side of the bar, gathering his things.

"Come on," he declared, "We're going to the Lion's Head."

Not the classiest of places, but it was a lot better than here. Money on the bar, for the bottle of rum before he practically grabbed Shade's arm and hauled him out of there.

"Very well, very well," he sighed, almost with resignation. He didn't necessarily move out of the seat, but after one moment, he was just simply no longer in his seat, and out on the streets, striding along the sidewalk with a particularly languid saunter down the road.

There was still a faint smile on his face, like he had a secret he wasn't sharing.

"What, you don't like dives, Cross? Why ever not?"

He had come to find those looks to be a regular thing. Odd, he thought, it wasn't as fun when it wasn't him making those faces. Top hat back on his head and can being twirled around his wrist expertly, he started making his way to the Lion's Head.

Firstly, he was pretty sure that the people that he owed money to were still there. Secondly, he was pretty sure that they were pissed off at him for putting a few of them in the hospital. Oh well, disappearances cost money now.

"I spend more than enough time in dives. I expect to get liquor for it." He retorted, "You know the kind of bars that would be on the docks, and you had to know someone that killed another guy to get the password to get in." He drawled, feeling a little homesick.

He only laughed, his own cane still lodged in the crook of his neck while he strolled. His own legs carried him at a slow, languid pace. The general may have long legs, but Shade didn't bother trying to keep up. He was far too languid to make the effort to walk quickly. If anything, he would expect Cross to slow down for him.

"Perhaps, perhaps. I hardly remember those days anymore. It's been far too long since I gained the ability to just..." with his free hand, he made a gesture, like his fingers were walking along, eyebrows rising above his sunglasses.

"Go wherever I wished. We could drink out of the country, you know. Instead of hitting an old, boring haunt."

"Yes, unfortunately, the last time I left the country it was a bit of a disaster." Cross mumbled slowing down just a hair for Shade to catch up. It was either this or wait for the shadows to creep up on him.

"We all don't have your powers," He mused out loud, as if the cogs in his head turning with some sort of devious plan, "It would be nice to have a local haunt."

"Of course not, but we could make a night of it. Eat in Tokyo, drink in Paris, and then top off the night with breakfast in Argentina. I know a few nice places in all of them," but of course he did.

He kept walking, before he gestured with his cane, noting the line of bars down the strip as they strode along.

"Unless you're determined to find the right place for your future nights devoid of me. I'm sure they must be devastating."

"As fun as that sounds - " Wait, why was he trying to fight it? It actually sounded like an amazing time, and no one would know the wiser that he'd been all around the world.

"Oh hush, what do you think one night stands are for?" He had people here now, didn't he? He felt himself get slower, as if he could feel "roots" forming.

It was inevitable, and if Cross were to speak on it, Shade would entirely sympathize. Opal had done the same to him, but then again, he still traveled, and still moved across the world with only a few steps.

But he had finally settled down. It had just taken a while.

"Yes, yes, precisely. Shall we, then?"

He held his cane now in the crook of his arm, and gestured to the empty patch of sidewalk in front of them, offering the evening around the world.

What was he waiting for? Cross put his top hat on, threw his cravat over his shoulder and held out his own cane. He'd traveled like this before, via the Ark, but that was moving through the space between space to get from one place to the other.

"I have to, I'd be a poor scientist if I didn't try to discover what the shadows had in store for me." He proclaimed, even as he hesitated just a bit before going in first.

If he died, he'd haunt Shade with always finding a stray thread in his suits or being off by just a hair in his absinthe.

And they stepped into the shadows, and it was quick, the Shade holding onto Cross by the shoulder to lead him. After all, these were no shadowlands like he had back home. It was all him, his power, opening the portal to another part of the world.

He led him, and it was only a few steps before they were on an offstreet in Tokyo, the clamor of figures still pressed together. He let him go, even as the shadow fabric oozed to the ground, leaving the two of them not looking quite so out of place as the City's streets.

After all, there were fashionistas here. Some of them even turned to look at their faces, nodding in approval. "And here we are, my friend. Tokyo, as promised."

Tokyo was Edo still for him. Even more so, Japan had become a taken country, a dark place where the Earl resided and no man would ever see again. It was swarmed with demons that took the skin of the loved ones that only wished to bring them back to life. A place where Cross had hidden out, driving Anita to seek him out, and eventually die.

He tries not to be too surprised by it. Maybe, if the war hadn't touched it, it would have been this vibrant and filled with life. Cross only remembers fragments of what one of Anita's girls taught him. It's archaic, but Japanese nonetheless.

"You do know how to deliver, Shade." It's a rare appraisal from him. "Last I remember, everything was burnt to the ground, and there were bodies everywhere."

"Really?" he asked, a touch surprised. He remembered far too many tragedies, burnings, razings. He shouldn't, of course, a man was not made to remember things such as that, but he was no man, anymore. Instead, he'd become more than that. He simply gestured.

"And what sort of fare would catch your fancy tonight? I know a few gourmet restaurants with the finest drinks," he explained, still letting his cane tap against the fine, sleek pavement. Tokyo was an interesting city, to even him, who'd traveled so far, he never lost the pure enjoyment for exploring a city he didn't know like the back of his hand.

"It must be a fairer sight now, than it had been before, if you remember so much wanton death and destruction."

"It's a long story." He mumbled, winking a some lovely ladies that might be able to join them later. Maybe. He swung his cane around, wondering how a place that had been so desolate was so packed.

He had thought that the City was dense, but this was almost overwhelming. Lights, sounds, people - so many people. So many things happening to those people. What was he to do?

"Lets do everything." He said, almost clapping his hands. "Everything."

Exuberance was infectious, and Shade's own excitement flashed across his face in a smile that was just a touch too sharp, enjoying the prospect too much.

"Everything it is, then," he announced, his cane extending across the street. There was still a wide enough berth from them to everyone else, that he could do that. They did seem to catch attention, although most of it was positive, like the women giggling.

"But first, food. I think I know a rather wonderful spot right around the corner."

Cross was already walking far ahead of him, trying to hide how deep in his own thoughts he was. If this was what could have been if they had succeeded or is this what could be if they win? They, being absolutely subjective at this point (but definitely not the Noah).

A wink there, and almost getting too close to another there- something about being a charming tourist, from what he caught. Unfortunately for the both of them, the majority of what he knew was "where is the liquor" and "how much for the night"?

"It's been ages." He mumbles, almost lost in the new world that Shade's presented him.

"Since you've been here?" he asked, his mouth still turned up in a slight, confident smirk. Shade was perhaps a bit more learned than Cross when it came to languages, but then again, he was immortal. He had too much time on his hands, and much of that had been funnelled into making sure he could be the traveler he wished to be.

So he understood their every word, but he didn't comment on it.

Instead, eventually, he stepped closer to Cross, to direct him toward a restaurant. "Here we are." It was a rather expensive looking place, advertising the best of the culinary delights they had to offer. Shade had eaten here before, and was well remembered.

"My emphasis has been on the dead ones," Since his very nature was to deal with death in such a manner. In reality, it was also because their world held so many secrets (what universe didn't, he came to realize sooner rather than later here).

Time was the issue, wasn't it? They had a ticking clock to the end of days, and he was here in Japan seeing what it could be like if the war was won instead of- well, who knew what was waiting for him anyway? A dark expression found its way onto his face before he hid it easily enough before barging through.

"Look at you, making an impression. I'm so proud."

"I do try!" he admitted, not as much barging through as he did slink, slipping in like a specter, or a shadow, and curling against the walls like the dark creature he was. He slipped off his hat, revealing the shock of slicked back dark hair, an amused smirk curling at one of the corners of his mouth, his eyebrows rising slightly.

"After all, what's the point of doing something, if it isn't to be remembered?" he looked then, to the service staff, and in perfect Japanese started to speak.

"A table, please."

When one had an eternity, it was expected that one would pick up on languages.

Cross stands there, repeating what Shade had said to try and get the accent right. Sometimes, deep down under all that charm and hair, he's actually still quite the learner.

He tries to ask for another set of chopsticks, only to show that he puts his long red hair up in a tight bun with one and - you know, hygiene. Despite his efforts in keeping it nice and straight, the curls just break through.

"Now tell me, how come you chose here of all places?"

He watched with only a small touch of amusement. Cross was an odd sort, and his mannerisms always seemed to surprise Shade, in small, odd ways. Things like this always caught him off guard.

He turned to the waitress, asking for her something exotic and alcoholic, his jaunty little smile never leaving his face.

"This particular restaurant? I saw some reviews, and they were quite glowing. I thought the both of us might enjoy a change of pace tonight."

"It's almost a little slow for you." Cross mentions offhandedly, as if making the observation was something that he was there for and not at all unsolicited. That, or he liked to get to know people (he didn't like to get to know people).

Well, a lot of things were slow for Cross. It didn't matter what he did, trouble always seemed to follow him around- never mind that it was usually his doing, and his fault. It was just something that in the City, he never quite got used to. It was almost as if he sought it out to give him some sort of thrill.

"I'm retired, Cross," he said with a soft laugh. "Things can't be slow enough for people my age, you know," he explained.

Really, the fact of the matter was that Shade could take it however it was. He didn't mind slow, because everything was slow to him. He didn't mind letting time simply pass, because it didn't go any faster or slower for him, because nothing made a difference.

He was too old for that sort of thing these days. "And there's nothing wrong with taking a few hours to let time pass us by, is there?"

"At some point, aren't we all retired?" He huffed, even though he wasn't entirely sure if his retirement (death) was part of the plan. Cross leaned back for a moment, taking in Shade before hiding whatever pensiveness he had with a small snort.

"What's the rest of the world like?" It's was supposed to be rhetorical, but for a man like Cross, being able to pick the brain of someone like Shade was somewhat of a - pardon the pun - once in a lifetime opportunity. Did we make it past the 1800s (well, obviously), but how? What was World War I like? II? Was there a III where he was from?

Oh no, this got serious.

"The rest of the world?" he asked, a little softly. The rest of the world was interesting, especially here in the City. An oddity, really. The City was so similar, and yet so different.

"Some things are constants. War, death, the like. People die often enough, but we managed to do well enough, honestly. Man can fly, you know. I detest planes, but the fact of the matter is that it helped us spread.

Communication was one of the miracles of modern society. It's astounding how much of a difference that can make."

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So I'll tell you all the story

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