chosehumanity | Honolulu Heights, Friday

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Honolulu Heights, Friday

So several people had been promised a housewarming party - and George had managed to convince Mitchell not to invite everyone in the whole neighbourhood, so chances were it might not even end in disaster - which would double as a 'welcome back, Annie!' party.

That meant tea. And biscuits. But mostly loads of tea. (And little finger sandwiches; Annie had insisted, claiming they were 'classy'.)

And leis. Annie had been vocal about those, too.

But: now the place was ready, after a week of running around and shopping and arguing and laughing and then running around some more. Time to celebrate.

[[ for those who were invited, and for anyone who thinks they might have been invited! ]]

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Turn up on the doorstep, offer gifts, or just well-wishes, or, hell, some snark.

Whoever answered the door was greeted with a pretty damn enthusiastic "Hiiiii" when Kate showed up, ~~work SP-y~~ Bod in tow. And could you blame her? Things seemed to be going okay this week, for everyone. Hell, even Moosh's short film had been accepted to a thing in New York. So, she was acting happy.

She also had a wrapped housewarming gift in her hands, while she'd given the frankly mandatory wine bottle for Bod to carry.

Whoever answered the door... would be Mitchell, grinning and all. "Hey, you," he said, and Bod got a no less-enthusiastic, "Bod, right?" with a chill nod of his head.

"Yes," Bod said, nodding and...carrying the wine like a professional. "It's a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for inviting me."

"He means 'hiiii'," Kate translated. Because that was totally what he'd meant. "We come bearing gifts!"

And this was obviously where she held her gift out for Mitchell. When unwrapped, it would turn out to be six bowls made out of vinyl records ('70s and '80s pop), and a set of matching coasters.

"And I've wine," Bod said, holding it up in case Mitchell hadn't seen said wine. "I didn't pick it out so I do hope Kate picked the right bottle."

"Does it have alcohol in it? Because we're not very discerning drinkers," Mitchell said, flashing Bod a grin as he accepted Kate's gift. "Come in, both of you," he added, stepping aside to let them in.

Kate snickered. "It's got alcohol, don't worry," she said as she moved to go past Mitchell, then stopped briefly to reach up and try and kiss him on the cheek, because her good mood and affection for people would not and could not be contained.

It was a party, people!

In the week leading up to the party, Jack finally got himself out of New York and, reluctantly, back to the version of 2012 London he'd called home before the whole recent mess started. He'd found a place to live, was most of the way to a job. And now: Time to hop universes again for a few hours.

Not that he was remotely tempted to miss it. He smiled on the doorstep, if a bit tentatively, and carried the bottle of 1902 Russian vodka he'd saved for a a housewarming gift.

"Hello!"

"Hey, Jack," Mitchell said. Enthusiastic tone, slightly-manic smile on his face; Jack really had nothing to fear about his reception here today, at least not from him. "Glad you could make it, come on in."

"It's not too far," Jack said, grinning back. The manic smile helped, even if the energy level behind it was a bit daunting.

He stepped inside. "Thanks for having us. Oh -- this is for you," he said, proffering the bottle. "There was a side trip to Russia earlier."

Mitchell accepted the bottle, and gave it a good look. He... was not a vodka critic, but it deserved a moment of consideration. "Nineteen... twenty?" he read. "Is that anywhere near when you landed, or is it just arbitrary?"

"Flip the digits," Jack advised. "1902. I had a last favor to do for Sebastien."

A shrug. "He ended up staying." He said it lightly -- it probably was for the best anyhow, and Jack had most of a month to get over it -- but it wasn't an easy thing.

Mitchell nodded, shutting the door behind him. "You think he's going to stay there for good?" he asked.

"'I have a habit of not dying, cariño'," Jack said, in brief imitation of Sebastien's voice before he glanced back to Mitchell. "His theory is he'll live another century then find me when he can. I checked as much as I could -- wherever he is these days, he's not leaving tracks."

Which meant ... precisely nothing, with Sebastien.

"And -- on a related note -- there's a vampire even older than he is in Moscow. Or was, anyhow."

"Moscow, yeah?" Mitchell said, as he walked into the living room to deposit George's bottle on the bar. "That's something. Our Old Ones like it a bit warmer."

"I think they're both completely insane," Jack shared. "I don't know why they stay there. The viking has an excuse, but Sebastien's being perverse. Your Old Ones have the right idea."

Edited 2012-02-24 15:13 (UTC)

"I hear Brazil is... pretty nice," Mitchell agreed, leaning back against the bar. "I remember Moscow being bloody cold." Beat. "Wait, he's a viking? Like Eric?"

"I suppose," Jack said, running a hand back through his hair. "I only spent a few hours with him, and he didn't seem inclined to share much of anything. Calls himself Starkad -- either after a myth, or the myth's after him."

Even odds, on that one.

"Sounds like an Old One all right," Mitchell said sympathetically.

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, would you like a drink?" he said. "We've got tea, and... tea, and... well," he waved his hand at the bar, "...and I think something orangey in the fridge."

He was also going to scoop up a lei and hand it to Jack before Annie assaulted him.

Jack took the lei, if a bit dubiously, and slipped it over his head. He supposed it made a nice contrast to his plain blue shirt.

"I'll stick to tea for now," he decided. "Though I'm sure Kate will talk me into something horrible for me and green soon enough."

"Just try not to deface the living room," Mitchell said seriously. "That's what the upstairs is for."

Jack wasn't sure what to say to that.

"... I'll try to restrain myself," he hazarded. "What did you think I had in mind?"

"Getting pissed and vomiting all over the furniture."

"... right, I'll step away from that."

Jack was far too dignified for such things. Usually.

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Honolulu Heights, Friday

Arrive!

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