the_last_resort | Midnight masquerade Open to All.

Current Music: Black planet - Sisters of Mercy

Entry tags:

Midnight masquerade Open to All.

Who: EVERYONE
When: After Midnight
Where: The Rising Sun
Format: Paragraph, action, etc.
What: A special party held at the rising sun. Dorian has told no one what he's celebrating but all drinks are free as long as you come after midnight with the password. and wearing a mask "Layla" is the password
Warnings: EVERYTHING GOES GUYS! PUT WARNINGS IN YOUR SUBJECT LINES IF YOU GET TOO CRAZY!

[ooc; Everyone can tag into the premade threads or make your own thread at the bottom! This is a party post thread, so thread jacking is cool unless otherwise stated. The only room locked in the club is Dorian's office. And if someone pops that lock they will find a half full goblet of blood on his desk, otherwise it is clean.

He has taken care of rides to wherever drunk people need to go too. And lastly; yes there are condoms in the rooms upstairs, if that is something you want. The Password will have be spoken on with an ad about the party a few days beforehand, it does not matter but the password is Layla. Pretty much tag around and have fun guys~! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[When Tuco glances up, he's sporting some kind of half-frown. It comes from the drinks menu, not the statement, but it gets turned on Boone all the same.]

I been around a couple of weeks, now. [He shrugs his shoulders up towards his ears, flashing a palm; a physicalisation of "But hey, don't worry about it."] You surrounded by one too many two-legged turtles, people don't notice you so much.

[Carefully setting his glass down, he turns on his seat, elbow finding the counter top as he allows himself to contemplate all that is Boone. There's a faint narrowing of eyes, and yep, there we go: the old once over. He finishes with a good long stare at the beret (the ridiculous things people will wear at parties, huh?) and a small, crooked smile.]

I like your hat, friend. It's, uh... [He pauses, then holds a hand out horizontally.] Very flat, hm?

[Boone gets that Tuco is sizing him up, but then he's doing the same thing. He doesn't smile back, and he takes a drink from his glass before he replies.]

Yeah.

[The shape of his beret isn't exactly something he spends a lot of time thinking about.]

Guess you're still staying at the resort if you've only been here a couple of weeks. Probably why I've never seen you before.

[He has his own place now, and rarely heads back to the resort.]

[The first thing you should know about Tuco is that status means a heck of a lot to him. The fact that he's sat smiling and Boone isn't? Well, needless to say, it doesn't stay that way for long: by the time Boone has finished speaking, the corners of Tuco's mouth have dropped right down again, eyebrows following suit.]

Probably.

[He makes a face.]

Or maybe you and me? We already like brothers. [Gesturing between the two masks:] It's hard to tell, no?

Think I'd remember your voice, if we were.

[Besides, he isn't that close to anyone here. Least of all someone who's only been here a couple of weeks.]

You got a name?

[Tuco's eyebrows slowly climb again, mouth pursing ever so slightly as he watches the half-joke sail right over the beret and into the ground. It's taken him aback, honestly: either Boone is on another level of deadpan, or he's completely humourless.]

Uh... [He stares back for a second before his mouth twitches up again (almost like a nervous tic).] Yeah, yeah, sure! [He thrusts his hand out.] Tuco.

[He's not entirely humourless, but this sure as hell isn't the first time he's missed a joke completely. Of course, sometimes he just plain doesn't find something funny, and he doesn't trouble himself to pretend to laugh when that happens either.

This time, though? Yeah, it went right over his head.]

Boone.

[He takes Tuco's hand, shakes it briefly, and lets go.]

So what brought you here?

Here? [He plucks his glass up and gives it a tiny shake. Then, waving his other arm in a much broader gesture:] Here?

[He makes another face, only this one seems to say, "Well."]

A lot of things. Why? You want the full story?

To the resort.

[He figures it was probably alcohol that brought Tuco to the party. He shrugs a little at his question.]

Well, I've got nothing better to do.

[And he's better at listening than talking. Something Tuco will probably figure out soon if he hasn't already.]

[His face does the shrugging so his body doesn't have to.]

A better life? Adventure? A chance to... to make a little impact? I don't know. Pick one. [And cue the lies and half-truths in three, two, one...] Where I come from, things... [He makes a couple of vague motions with his hands.] It's between blue and gray, you know? Brother against brother. Friend against friend. Enough bodies start to pile up, maybe you start to look for a way out.

[Boone has no reason to think Tuco might be lying. He nods.]

Yeah, I wouldn't wanna stick around for that either. Things are pretty tough back where I'm from too, but... I know my friends wouldn't turn on me, at least.

[And they're one of two reasons he isn't staying here for good. He swirls his whiskey around in his glass before taking another sip.]

This place anything like you expected?

[Boone didn't actually know what to expect before he came here, but now that he's been here a while he thinks it's a nice enough place. For a lot of people, it probably is a better life.]

[He flashes his teeth, eyes sinking to the counter as he laughs defeatedly.]

No. No, not at all. They said a lotta big words, but it didn't mean so much to me. Not at the time, you know? I heard what I wanted to hear, and so I told myself, "Tuco, you begin saying no now, you may as well start digging your own grave."

[He spreads his hands, looking ever so slightly sheepish.]

Maybe next time, I think before I jump, hah?

[A beat. Unless Boone is hiding another pair of eyes under there, Tuco figures it's safe to assume he's human. The accent hints at somewhere a little closer to home, too.]

Tell me, friend: what year are you from?

Did they mention the creepers?

[He wonders how they'd go about telling people about that. "We have a nice village and the resort itself is nice, but there are green things that find you and explode and aliens that can turn into your underwear and run away."]

2282.

[It's still strange to Boone, asking what year it was for people before they came here. The idea that not only is he surrounded by aliens but also people who should have been dead a couple hundred years by now? It took a long while for him to get used to it, and even now it still hurts his head if he thinks about it too much.]

How about you?

[He laughs again, shaking his head.]

No.

[Or at least, if they did happen to mention them, Tuco didn't actually process the warning.

The semi-amused look slips right off his face with those four numbers, however. His jaw slackens just a touch, and there's a weird combination of both disbelief and... what, awe, maybe?]

Jesus.

[He fits his chin into his hand and shifts it side to side for a moment, stubble scraping against the skin of his palm.

Quietly:] So... I could be your great-great-great... great... [He stops, mouth quirking up again. There's a little tap as his rings rap against the counter.] I don't know. I can't— ["Count that far back." He gives an incredulous snort, before looking up to meet Boone's eyes.] I came from 1862. That's... [And he's back to rubbing at his face again.] That's a lot of greats.

[He arches an eyebrow when Tuco mentions what year he's from. Jeez, that's a while back. He can't count that far back either, but yeah, that's a hell of a lot of greats.]

And I thought 2008 was a long time ago.

[He still does think it is, but Tuco is... well, ancient compared to that.]

Don't think I could even imagine what things were like back then.

[He spreads his hands again.]

Not like this.

[Yep, he's a regular historian.

With a shrug and a pointed eye-flick:] We had bigger hats. [A nod over towards a speaker.] Music doesn't come from holes in the wall. You want to get somewhere, you either gonna walk, or you use a horse. [He falls quiet for a moment. Pretty much everything feels different, so it's a little hard to wax lyrical without his mood dropping like a bag of rocks.] But we still had whiskey, so... [He snorts softly, and raises his glass.] Salud.

Yeah, we still have whiskey back home, too.

[Boone isn't all that surprised to find that the alcohol pretty much stays the same, no matter what year it is. He's glad for that.]

Never saw a moving car before I came here. We had to walk, too. Only cars I ever saw were the ones still stuck on the roads, but those haven't moved for about 200 years. They had wheels, too.

[He finishes said whiskey and sets the glass back down. A small frown has taken root.]

Wait, so... [Up goes the forefinger.] I mean, we have trains, too. Railroads, steam... [Squint squint squint.] What do you mean they don't move?

[Boone takes a drink from his glass and shrugs lightly.]

Couple hundred years ago the Great War happened. Every country with access to nuclear weapons threw all they had at each other. Dunno exactly what the world was like before the war, but I know two hundred years later we're still paying for it. Only cars on the roads now are still there from when the bombs fell. People who were driving home and didn't know what was gonna happen.

[Tuco's eyes narrow even further, and for a moment, all he does is stare back. Then, very slowly:]

So... the new clear weapons... clear the new technology?

[Boone stares at Tuco for a full five seconds before understanding where he's getting stuck. Then he just shakes his head.]

No, nuclear weapons are... goddammit, don't make me try to explain how those work. Just imagine a really big bomb. You've got bombs back where you're from, right? Things that explode? Well, imagine one of those can wipe out an entire city. Now imagine a whole bunch of them exploding all over the world. For two hours.

[Tuco nods along as Boone continues, but that confused, semi-skeptical look on his face never really fades.]

Who the hell would want to blow up the cities?

[His head shifts slowly, chin tucking towards his chest, forefinger making a comeback.]

You're joking.

I dunno. Whoever launched the missiles.

[Boone frowns and picks his glass up again. He could see as Tuco was nodding that he didn't really believe him. It doesn't really matter to him, though.]

You don't have to believe me. Not really my idea of a joke, though.

[Tuco hums noncommittally.]

I was a soldier before I came here. [He glances away for a moment to catch the bartender's eye, signalling for another top up with a gesture that starts at the necklace and ends at his glass.] A fat pink man starts a war with another pig because he wants what he has, comprendes? You blow everything up...?

[He snorts derisively. He could go off on a tangent and mention Langstone bridge, but in his not-so-humble opinion, that's a story worth saving.]

Enough years pass, maybe people start to go backward.

Yeah. Not so sure there was anything left to take in the end, though. Know countries were arguing over fossil fuels and stuff before the war. It was getting harder to find things like oil. Don't know much else about it. Sure as hell don't know what happened right before the bombs fell.

[He'll probably never know, either. He's fine with that. He doesn't see any point in getting caught up in what happened all those years ago. What matters more is surviving in the new world left behind.]

[Aaand that's clear as indication as any that it's about time to drop the subject—which is a good thing, too, given that Tuco's still not exactly following.]

It sounds like Hell.

[He punctuates with a sharp sniff.]

You been here some time, huh?

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