Milli-timed to Tuesday the 28th - New Orleans Mardi Gras

[mogget_cat]

The bar room of Milliways is always full of sound - the clatter of dishes and clink of glasses, chairs being scooted back or further in, footsteps upon the floor, rats squeaking, the background murmur of conversations overlapping one another.

But tonight the main door to the bar opens to the mouth of an city alleyway, to a caucophony of noise and music, full of seething crowds and colorful parade floats, the smells of food and sweat and smoke and beer and those colorful fruity drinks sold in yard-long plastic glasses with umbrellas in them. Mardi Gras is in full swing and New Orleans has outdone itself this time.

Yrael enters, trailing laughter from a section of the crowd on the other side. His white hair is decorated with purple, gold and green feathers, his pale face partially hidden by a sharp, glittery cat mask of gold, behind which his green eyes are bright. Over his white shirt this evening he wears a shiny waistcoat of purple, gold, green, and black. It's clearly party time, big time, show time -

"And then some!" he grins, seeing Milliways. "Fat Tuesday is upon us, Milliways! Welcome to Mardi Gras! Come, dance, explore! Laissez les bons temps rouler!"

Yrael will make sure the door stays open for any party-goer who would like to partake in the joie de vivre, and the Bar can certainly provide a change of costume...



(ooc: The post will be open all weekend and into next week as needed! Usual party-thread guidelines apply! Tag in! Threadhop! Meet new people and get into trouble! :D Yrael will be around, but his mun will not be able to tag much until Monday evening. <333333)

Comments

[just_cant_lose]

'Subtle, isn't he?' Jim murmurs to Sherlock.

'Are you just here to play Hannibal, or are you mixing interests?'

Though really, Hannibal's interests can all be described as play. Hobbies, if specialised.

[mightbeagoodone]

"Subtle as a hammer to the head," Sherlock murmurs in reply.

His arm tightens around Jim, imperceptible to anyone but the three men here.

[cook_the_rude]

"I don't like to even separate play and other interests," Hannibal says. "But orange-glazed ham is not on the menu for tonight. I am here to enjoy the cooking and music of others, for the most part, and whatever company I might come across that is of interest."

[just_cant_lose]

'It's about time you put orange-glazed ham on the menu, my dear.'

Because Jim is looking forward to serving it up. He glances up to Sherlock with a smile.

'Do you suppose we're of interest, darling?'

[mightbeagoodone]

Sherlock's eyes narrow a moment. Orange-glazed ham seems like a very specific reference he's missing...

(This particular ham is still a few years in his future. Lucky him.)

"Aren't we always?" he says to Jim.

"Aiming to join us, Hannibal?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Gladly, for a drink or so," Hannibal says. "What are you having?"

[just_cant_lose]

Jim alluded to Hannibal commissioning him for a job once, but he did not name names. He imagined Sherlock wouldn't get it anyway, being neither a fan of reality TV, or politics. But he will explain later, if desired!

'We are always, aren't we?'

Yay them! He laughs and touches the lightest kiss to Sherlock's jaw, then shrugs a shoulder at Hannibal.

'I'll take a Hurricane, thanks. Last time we were here, I didn't get to finish it.'

That's on you, Sherlock.

[mightbeagoodone]

"I remember," Sherlock says mildly. "We were otherwise occupied."

He doesn't drink, really--his vices are usually stimulants rather than depressants--so he goes basic, instead. "I'd like a red wine."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal goes to get those from the nearest bar, along with yet another Cuba Libre for himself. He seems rather hooked on those tonight.

"To the enjoyment of all the senses!" he toasts.

[just_cant_lose]

'Otherwise occupied in a rather good way, as I recall,' he murmurs to Sherlock when Hannibal's at the bar, and loses himself in happy contemplation of it until he gets back.

But then, there's a toast he can get next to, but his eyes stay on his man as he raises his glass.

'All the senses,' he says, grins, and raises his glass.

'Are you going to get drunk, Hannibal? I think I'd like to see that.'

[mightbeagoodone]

"To enjoyment," Sherlock murmurs and has a sip.

He does not intend to get drunk tonight. He intends to keep all of his facilities about him when Hannibal Lecter is around.

[cook_the_rude]

"Why do you ask?" Hannibal says, grinning at them both. "Hoping for me to spill the beans about my more secret recipes? The ideal way of achieving the perfect orange glazing for any roast, perhaps?"

[just_cant_lose]

Jim snorts with genuine amusement.

'I'm not much of a cook, and my tastes aren't that refined. Sherlock, though-' his eyes are alight with mischief, '-is turning out to be something of a marvel in the kitchen, aren't you, darling?'

[mightbeagoodone]

Sherlock shrugs, his expression mild. "I like feeding you," he says simply.

[cook_the_rude]

"It is a supreme pleasure to feed somebody you love, isn't it?" Hannibal says, his smile private, as if thinking of somebody else entirely. "Or cook with them, passing implements, ingredients and comments until the feast is prepared, and both can share the enjoyment."

[just_cant_lose]

'We have yet to attempt a joint feast.'

His dry tone suggests it's not all that likely. But he's looking fondly at Sherlock though, and leans up to touch a light kiss to his jaw.

'You look after me very well, darling. I wouldn't want to get in your way.'

[mightbeagoodone]

Sherlock smiles a bit and kisses Jim's hair.

"I like knowing he's taken care off."

[cook_the_rude]

"He is," Hannibal says. "He has disreputable friends who treasure food and the sharing of it very highly."

[just_cant_lose]

Jim leans back against him, a beatific smile on his face. To his mind, people taking care of him - when he wants them to - is exactly the way things should be. He's never really wanted them to before, but here they are.

'Disreputable friends? I should hope so. Which reminds me - where did Yrael get to?'

He takes Sherlock's hand again, and squeezes it. He prefers him over anyone else, any day.

[mightbeagoodone]

"Disreputable? Hm," Sherlock says. "Better than outright bad influences, I suppose."

He squeezes back.

"I haven't seen Yrael at all."

[cook_the_rude]

"He was at the door," Hannibal says, "and then I met him by the food trucks, and went on a little tour with him. That's something I'd enjoy doing."

[just_cant_lose]

'You, and Yrael, and food.'

He can see the appeal of Yrael. Not so much the cuisine, though he'll deal with those two enjoying it the way they do.

'You should move out here while you're waiting for Will to show up.'

Jim grins at Sherlock.

'Hannibal's horribly in love, and his boy won't do the decent thing and honour the bar with his presence. It's cruel and unusual, I would say.'

But only because it's not a problem he has to suffer.

[mightbeagoodone]

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sherlock says, and hopes the boy stays far away.

[cook_the_rude]

"He's not a boy," Hannibal says. "He's the one person in my whole world who is actually a match for me -- just as you are to each other. Just because he is slight and sweet and scruffy, and a little non-neurotypical in an unspecified way doesn't mean that Will isn't a full and formidable man you don't want to cross. At all."

Pause.

"He's been to Milliways, but from a different point in time, and from a reality that has already forked from mine, due to the influence of the bar. My world does that."

[just_cant_lose]

Awwww, Hannibal is going to wax lyrical about his boy. It's so sweet.

'For the record,' he murmurs up at Sherlock, 'that is not how I sound when I'm talking about you.'

He says less. He likes that Sherlock's brilliance speaks for itself.

'I think your world hates you. It's hardly fair. But I'm also surprised you've managed to stay away from him this long. It's not like the version that comes to the place is going to give you any satisfaction.'