AU Emcee

[i_am_your_host]

The door opens to the strains of 1950s doo-wop music and cheerful chatter.

"--just going to fetch another bottle, won't be a minute," says a gray-haired, bespectacled man, wearing a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off (seriously, he has a thing against sleeves), blue jeans with the cuffs rolled up high, and Chuck Taylor hi-top sneakers with no socks. Some people wonder why he doesn't dress his age. He thinks they're silly.

As he steps into Milliways, empty wine glass in hand, he promptly finds that this isn't his kitchen.

"Oh. Well, this is convenient."

Suddenly a black-and-brown tabby cat darts in between his feet and disappears among the tables.

"Rocky! No, no, come back here-- oh, fuck."

He quickly shuts the door behind him.

Looks like he'll be more than a minute.

Comments

[not_his_pa]

William is enjoying a good meal and stretching his neck and wrist, his injuries are playing up when he feels something under his table.

When he peers under, a cat is playing with the fringe of his chaps and spurs, "Hey, what's your name?"

He's always loved cats and they used to have a barn cat when the barn was doing better.

(OOC: William's a modern rodeo rider and will be a little slow.)

[i_am_your_host]

He's checking the booths since they offer a cat more space to hide when he notices the young man in a...cowboy outfit? Hurrying over, he bends down to scoop up the cat before he can get away.

"His name is Rocky," he answers, a German accent to his English, "and he's a very bad boy."

The cat squirms rebelliously in his arms before deciding to settle down.

"Thankfully your chaps distracted him, so thank you for wearing them," he adds with a smirk.

[not_his_pa]

There's a vest with a number and Dodge City on it that has serious padding sitting on a chair as William laughs, "Glad they're useful for somethin'."

[i_am_your_host]

"Are they not particularly useful?" he asks, eyeing the strange vest, unsure of what it's for. Protective gear in sports is pretty much still just a suggestion in the 1950s. "I've always wondered what they were for anyway, except to add some flair to a cowboy outfit."

[not_his_pa]

"They're meant to protect you from prickly stuff out on the trail. In a rodeo ring, they just make me look more like folks expect I should,"

His are fairly subtle, leather with some detailing and fringe with some beads.

[electro_kinetic]

"You need your cat back?" comes a voice familiar in all the wrong ways, followed quickly by a head of blue hair, streaked with purple and pulled back into a topknot braid--the back is all shaved away, revealing the black roots and an intricate pattern cut in. Noriko's face is open and honest as she holds Rocky up against her chest, not minding his fur against her tee shirt, scratching him absently behind one ear.

"I think he likes sushi. Or just tuna," she chuckles.

[i_am_your_host]

He looks up toward the voice as he's checking the booths, and his face lights up with relief. The young woman's appearance barely gets a batted eyelash. This is Milliways after all.

The cat, however, is torn between confusion about the metal hands and delight in getting ear scritches.

"Oh, thank you kindly," he says, holding his arms out to take the cat. "He always goes where there is food, so I'm not surprised he followed me in."

[electro_kinetic]

"No problem," she says, handing the cat over. "He's cute, he reminds me of my Enzo." Who is not a cat, not even close. He is, however, very much a good suit for Noriko, being a hedgehog. She loves him, and normally he rides around in the scarves she wears around her neck.

"Hi, by the way."

[i_am_your_host]

"Ah, you have a cat as well?"

With a warm smile, he offers her a free hand to shake, as the other hand cradles the cat against his shoulder. "Do call me Emcee. And this is Rocky."

Rocky is not interested in introductions, but rather the rim of Emcee's glasses.

[electro_kinetic]

"No," Noriko chuckles. "He's a hedgehog. He's cute, though, and he can ride around in my neck scarf when I wear them."

She takes the handshake, though careful of how much pressure she's exerting and hoping her hands aren't too cold, and reaches up to interrupt Rocky's paw aiming to bat at his owner's glasses. "Emcee, does that stand for something, like initials?" English is her second language, and it often doesn't flow as well as she'd like it to.

[runningred]

It doesn't matter that Eric warned him about this, it still punches him in the gut to see Emcee walk through the door. Still beautiful. Still him, even if his history weighs heavy on him.

Jay hides his reaction by going to one knee to catch the bolting cat, "Hey, I think your person is looking for you." Many years of being around Selina, he's pretty good with cats.

[i_am_your_host]

Rocky had been a stray, so he's as bold and inquisitive as if he owns the place. And this human smells pretty interesting! He sniffs his clothes and butts his head against his hand.

So Emcee isn't that worried when Rocky gets loose, except that he might find a way outside. Out there, his curiosity will know no bounds. Thankfully the young man intercepts and distracts the cat, and Emcee is able to catch up.

"Thank you so much, darling--"

His breath catches in his throat.

And he stares at the man as the memories of twenty years ago overwhelm him.

"Oh my god. Jay."

[runningred]

Jay's clothes may well carry the scent of fish. Just what a curious cat will enjoy.

He looks up at Emcee's exclamation and smiles. That warm, loving smile. "Long time, no see I take it?" He straightens up, holding a hand out to him, letting Emcee take it in his own time.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee presses his hands to his face in shock as he tries to pull himself together. Tears sting his eyes and threaten to fall, but he blinks them away.

He then reaches out to take Jay's hand, grabbing it like a lifeline. Jay might feel the difference. Thinner, aged. And on the inside of his forearm, a tattoo.

"About twenty years, I think," he says, willing his voice not to crack.

Oh, what the hell. He'll just go ahead and throw his arms around Jay's neck in an embrace.

[runningred]

Jay lets go of Rocky to return the embrace, strong and warm as he holds Emcee close. Cry if you need to, love. It's okay." He whispers, kissing Emcee's hair. "I'm here for you."

The tattoo makes him furious but buries tat for later. Right now, Emcee is all that matters.

[bringspeopletogether]

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a cat, if turned loose in a crowded room, will make an instinctive beeline for the one person who doesn't like cats all that much.

In this particular crowded room, that means the young man in a booth off to the left. He's taken off most of his armor -- save the breastplate bearing the symbol of the Templar Order -- and heaped it on one side of the table. And he's now holding very, very still as he stares down, a bit helplessly, at the cat making itself at home in his lap.

Just. Why.

[i_am_your_host]

Why? Because.

And Rocky does what he wants.

Emcee recognizes that look of helplessness (he's seen it before on the faces of his own party guests), so he quickly makes his way over to the...knight? to rescue him from his cat.

"Hallo, there," he says with a polite and apologetic smile, and gestures to the striped loaf on the man's lap. "I'll just-- take him off you, shall I?"

[bringspeopletogether]

"Oh, er -- " Alistair looks up, sheepish -- and not a little relieved -- keeping his hands well away from the cat like it'll explode into flames if he touches it. "Yes. Please. He's yours?"

...Maker, he's pretty sure the cat's started purring.

"I'm from Ferelden," he says to the creature. "You're betraying your kind snuggling up to me, you know."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee tips his head from side to side.

"Does anyone ever really own a cat?" he replies philosophically. "It's more like he chose to live with me. But yes, sorry."

He reaches down and lifts the cat out of his comfy spot, which elicits a protesting mrow! Neverthless, Emcee bundles him up against his shoulder and keeps him from squirming away.

"Do cats usually not like people from-- Ferelden?"

[onceaviking]

Eric sees him enter.
(Smells him. Hears him).

He doesn't move from his place in a suitably dark corner. He just - watches.
And then he slips away.

They spoke last time.

That'll do.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee is too busy looking for his cat to notice anyone watching him from a dark corner.

A vampire can slip away so quickly and quietly. Emcee never knew he was even there.

[cook_the_rude]

The very pale man in a corner catches the bolting cat -- apparently.

One moment, the cat is running into the room.

A heartbeat later, the man is standing in his dark corner by a pillar, the cat on his arm being expertly scritched.

[i_am_your_host]

Rocky seems to have disappeared from sight.

Emcee calls his name and peeks under chairs where people are sitting (Rocky likes playing with shoelaces) and under the tables in the booths. He's about to resort to putting treats out as a lure, when he spots the pale man in the shadows.

"Oh, you caught him," he says relieved as he approaches, holding his hands out for the cat. The tattoo on his inner left forearm is clearly visible. "Thank you. He's certainly a quick and mischievous one."

There is something...unsettling about the man, yet oddly familiar.

[cook_the_rude]

"He certainly is," the pale man says, smiling at Emcee.

There are teeth in his smile, but they might be incidental.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee returns the smile a little stiffly with a short chuckle.

"He tends to get underfoot at parties. He rather enjoys the attention from large crowds. Quite the social butterfly."

Rocky takes it upon himself to squirm off of the strange man's arm, leaving lots of cat hair on his sleeve, and into Emcee's grasp, before climbing halfway up onto his shoulder.