Carmen Sandiego (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doitrockapella) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
route_10652014-05-16 10:10 pm
doitrockapella) wrote in route_10652014-05-16 10:10 pm
If you're one of us, then roll with us
Who: Anyone over the legal drinking age in Johto! (which I believe is age 20?)
Where: The streets and venues of Goldenrod City!
When: Friday, May 16th
Summary: It's Friday, Friday, and we're gettin' down on Friday with a big honkin' Bar Crawl Katamari.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe, and mark your threads accordingly if they go higher, please!
Log:
[It's funny how sometimes a passing aside can eventually snowball into a concrete notion that somehow ends up sounding like a really good idea — and if you're Carmen Sandiego, that also generally means it's a day ending in the letter "y". This time around, the passing aside had been simple enough; almost a joke, really. It's not as though she hasn't been warned about the utter peril she might be walking into by telling Lancer she'd buy him a drink for every story he can tell her; she's well aware his long memory is full of stories, and that he can almost certainly hold a drink for every one, which means she's likely to end up bankrupted if they end up keeping strictly to the terms of their bargain.
But it's also not as though money has ever taken precedence over fun in her life (or at least, it hasn't for a very long time, so long she's almost forgotten that time ever existed), and ill-advised or not, the agreement had really boiled down to an excuse to do something social and have some fun on a Friday night, and there's something just refreshing enough about the unusual and foreign normalcy of it all that she's willing to give it a try.
Of course, being out in public on a Friday night naturally comes with perils of its own, including but not limited to seeing familiar faces, having surprise visits and unanticipated encounters with long-distance friends, and...well, dragging them along with you when the sights and sounds of one bar get tedious and everybody sort of ends up deciding to go find another one instead.
So come on down, stop on by; the mission for this evening is to take a ragtag league of extraordinary gentlepersons and successfully navigate an average social outing with a standard modicum of shenanigans involved.
Which is, of course, the extraordinary gentleperson way of saying TONIGHT WE'RE GOING HARD.]
[OOC: Okay, so! This is an open log for anyone over the drinking age who is currently in Goldenrod City right now and wants to come hang out for a Friday Night At The Bar; just tag your starters with a location and maybe an average estimate of what time of the night it's taking place at. Presumably the group's going to move around at least once or twice so you might catch them in a bar, on the streets of Goldenrod, or feel free to have groups wander away from the pack and go do their own thing — whatever floats your boat! The log's open for everyone, to be used as you see fit. Just please mark all warnings accordingly in your threads and tag responsibly! o/ ]
Where: The streets and venues of Goldenrod City!
When: Friday, May 16th
Summary: It's Friday, Friday, and we're gettin' down on Friday with a big honkin' Bar Crawl Katamari.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe, and mark your threads accordingly if they go higher, please!
Log:
[It's funny how sometimes a passing aside can eventually snowball into a concrete notion that somehow ends up sounding like a really good idea — and if you're Carmen Sandiego, that also generally means it's a day ending in the letter "y". This time around, the passing aside had been simple enough; almost a joke, really. It's not as though she hasn't been warned about the utter peril she might be walking into by telling Lancer she'd buy him a drink for every story he can tell her; she's well aware his long memory is full of stories, and that he can almost certainly hold a drink for every one, which means she's likely to end up bankrupted if they end up keeping strictly to the terms of their bargain.
But it's also not as though money has ever taken precedence over fun in her life (or at least, it hasn't for a very long time, so long she's almost forgotten that time ever existed), and ill-advised or not, the agreement had really boiled down to an excuse to do something social and have some fun on a Friday night, and there's something just refreshing enough about the unusual and foreign normalcy of it all that she's willing to give it a try.
Of course, being out in public on a Friday night naturally comes with perils of its own, including but not limited to seeing familiar faces, having surprise visits and unanticipated encounters with long-distance friends, and...well, dragging them along with you when the sights and sounds of one bar get tedious and everybody sort of ends up deciding to go find another one instead.
So come on down, stop on by; the mission for this evening is to take a ragtag league of extraordinary gentlepersons and successfully navigate an average social outing with a standard modicum of shenanigans involved.
Which is, of course, the extraordinary gentleperson way of saying TONIGHT WE'RE GOING HARD.]
[OOC: Okay, so! This is an open log for anyone over the drinking age who is currently in Goldenrod City right now and wants to come hang out for a Friday Night At The Bar; just tag your starters with a location and maybe an average estimate of what time of the night it's taking place at. Presumably the group's going to move around at least once or twice so you might catch them in a bar, on the streets of Goldenrod, or feel free to have groups wander away from the pack and go do their own thing — whatever floats your boat! The log's open for everyone, to be used as you see fit. Just please mark all warnings accordingly in your threads and tag responsibly! o/ ]
The Old Vespeakeasy, around 10
no subject
And he's giving free fortunes!! How great is that?
That said, Hagakure immediately spots this sad-looking dude back in the dim corner and locks onto him like a...not very accurate laser because whoops that definitely was a table he just slammed himself into as he makes his way over. He's okay though! Without asking, he plops himself down in the seat across from Blake and (gently) slams a crystal ball down on the table.]
You look like you could use some cheering up, dude. You ever gotten your fortune read before?
no subject
...So of course that's what the kid does. Blake's eyebrows go up in recognition.] You, you're that kid who was saying he's Miss Cleo.
[A big rock clunks on the table in front of him.]
...You carry around an honest-to-fucking-god crystal ball.
[That is so fucking stupid it's almost impressive. After a moment, he gets the sneer he's been trying for.]
Do I look like I go around asking for advice from old gypsy ladies?
no subject
[The...goods. Yep, perfect wording right there.
To Blake's question he just laughs. Normally he'd be offended, but he's too drunk to comprehend that burn.]
Well it's a good thing I'm not an old gypsy lady! Trust me, my predictions are a billion times more accurate than theirs anyway.
no subject
Hogga...Hog-a-koo...you know what? [He tilts his half-drunk glass of dark beer at the kid.] I'm gonna call you Phil.
[Blake's eyes roll as he gestures at the crystal ball.] Go ahead. Predict how long it'll be before I throw that goddamn thing throw a window.
no subject
Sure man, call me whatever. Just not Miss Cleo.
[He's going to regret giving Blake such power, isn't he?
Despite his cheerful demeanor, it slips slightly when Blake mocks his use of the crystal ball. But y'know what, he'll roll with it.]
I don't even need the crystal ball to predict it'll be never in a billion years 'cause like hell I'm letting you touch it, old man.
[He's already lost a crystal ball to a murder scheme, he's not so enthusiastic about the idea of his new one getting thrown too.
Still, he goes back to normal shortly after.]
So c'mon, just lemme give you something quick. I promise it'll be worth your while. Maybe I can getcha on the fortune telling train!
no subject
[A few beers into the night, Blake couldn't quite say he's feeling no pain, but it's a lot less than usual. Sure, he's still irritated that this kid's interrupting his valuable staring at the wall time, but it's hard to keep up much rancor when the kid's so damn agreeable. It ratchets down to a holding pattern of standard bitterness.]
I don't wanna touch your damn crystal ball. God only knows where it's been.
[Blake rolls his eyes.] There's no getting rid of you, is there? Fine. Tell me my future, smartass.
no subject
[Normally he'd think that was a jab at his hair...but he'll let it slide this time because it's not even that long anymore, so hah!
He brightens up immediately when Blake finally gives in.]
For serious? Awesome! Okay, okay, so lemme start off by asking what you'd like your fortune to be about. I can get pretty specific if you want. D'you wanna know about your finances? Future Pokemon you'll end up? Love prospects?
[He emphasizes that last one, even going so far as to raise his eyebrows knowingly at Blake. What can he say? This dude totally looks lonely.]
no subject
[Ahh, crap, the kid looks way too excited about that. Blake's face clouds in proportion to how Harry's brightens. He gets the feeling that he just stepped deep in something.]
This had better not end up with me signed up for any funny religions.
[He rolls his eyes as he leans back in the booth. Shit, in for a penny. Might as well see just how wrong this kid can be.]
Fine. Go ahead, tell me about my fuckin' dating future.
no subject
Okay, okay...dating future...
[He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, stretching his arms palm-up in front on each side of the crystal ball. He has to make sure he's totally still otherwise he'll wobble way too much.]
Alright, I think something's coming into view now.
[Another minute or two passes before he reopens his eyes and grins at Blake.]
Your future's lookin' good, dude! The Fates showed me everything! You'll end up falling head over heels for a pretty girl who lives up in Ecruteak. She's about your age, maybe a little younger, with long maroon hair and stunning cherry-red lipstick. She's totally into you too, and you share drinks together on calm summery nights. You might even decide to settle down with this beauty! 'cause hey, we're stuck in this world, may as well make the best of it.
[...He has to stifle a laugh as he continues the maybe not-so true part of his vision.]
There miiiight be a thirty percent chance he's actually a Zoroark in disguise though, so maybe you oughta check for that when you come across her. I heard one hit from a Pokemon move and breaks their disguise!
no subject
[But he shuts up and watches the kid. He doesn't chant or make any stupid noises, at least, just closes his eyes and must be trying to look all mystic. In the light of a neon Bulbweiser sign, it's a lost cause.
At first, he scoffs. Really, a genuine scoffing noise. But it's not long before he's leaning in a little.
With plenty of healthy skepticism and maybe a hint of curiosity in his voice] A redhead, huh.
[He's got nothing against those. He's just thinking about the kind of lady he wouldn't mind clinking glasses with by the lake when a funny word sinks in.]
You saying I'm gonna get hit on by a werewolf?
i'm sorry for this
[Lancer had already been drinking for some time. Which was no problem for him, but a big problem to literally every single person he came into contact with.]
[And that's the story of how an ancient Irish hero in a Hawaiian shirt and leather pants kicked open the door and nearly took it off its hinges.]
WHAT'S UP, YOU DEPRESSING BASTARDS?! TURN A FUCKIN' LIGHT ON, WHY DON'T YOU?!
you are both jerks and never be sorry
So now it's failed.
Blake leans out of his booth to grouse at the asshole]
If you don't like it, then get out.
no subject
Nah, not as fun if I went and did that.
no subject
[Blake buries his scowl in his beer.]
The fuck do you want? I've never seen you around here before.
no subject
What're you doing back here, old man, getting drunk or auditioning for a shitty film noir?
[Don't mind Schuldig just sliding into the booth seat across from him, uninvited and unrepentant.]
no subject
I was having a nice quiet drink, before a clown car full of chucklefucks parked outside.
[So, both.]
What're you having? [His hand rises in warning.] Say some fruity girly drink and I'm tossing you out on your ass.
no subject
[He leans forward on his elbows, grinning like the bastard he is.]
So what do you say we have a few, then steal the clown car and ditch the chucklefucks?
[Dammit, Schuldig.]
no subject
He gives Dietrich a long, appraising look.]
You know what?
[He downs the rest of his beer in one long gulp. Thick and bitter, just as it should be.]
That's the best idea I've heard all day.
no subject
[And once Schuldig gets his whiskey, well. If there's such a thing as drinking like a pansy (and in Blake's world there probably is), Schuldig's certainly not doing it; he's slugging his booze like he stole it.]
How often you come here and brood, anyway?
no subject
Whenever I'm feeling sick of all the assholes and weird bullshit around here.
[And whenever he feels the need to brood about the past.]
...so, pretty often.
[He points at Dietrich.] But I don't fuckin' brood like some teenager. I just mull.
You know. Over shit.
no subject
[He shoots Blake a shit-eating look.]
Whatever helps you sleep at night.
no subject
[He rolls his eyes.]
I sleep fine, asshole.
[The bags under his eyes don't agree with that. It's not like he's here because the shadowed quiet of hunch-shouldered drunks is better at keeping memory at bay than the close, familiar quiet of his apartment. He just didn't have anything better to do.
He gestures toward the crowd that blew in with Dietrich.]
What are you hauling around all these assholes for?
no subject
Clown car's still better than walking, sometimes.
[Which doesn't actually make a whole lot of sense since there's not actually a car, but the metaphor is probably apt somehow.]
Seriously, though, you look like shit. Something on your mind?
[...says the telepath.]
no subject
He rolls his eyes.] Well gee, thanks a fuckin' lot. This is just the face I have.
[He is aware that he does indeed look like shit. He traces his finger around the rim of his glass.]
I was just thinking about how different Crazy Bullshit Island is from the real world. How things here are... [It feels like a kind of treason to say it.] ...easier.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)