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

[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.'

[mightbeagoodone]

"Thank you," Sherlock murmurs back.

How curious, though -- he hadn't thought the different realities could break away from themselves so much.

[cook_the_rude]

"I'm patient," Hannibal says. "As always. The prize will be worth it."

[just_cant_lose]

'But until then, you don't know you're going to get it.'

He says this with the lazy drawl, touched with superiority, of one who has got his and been got in return. Even if Sherlock didn't know it was what he wanted at first.

[mightbeagoodone]

Sherlock just keeps his expression mild. He would never flaunt the fact that he's happily in love. Nope, not Sherlock Holmes.

[cook_the_rude]

"You can believe me that I do everything to make sure I do," Hannibal says. "But the last step is Will's -- and that makes for a delicious twist of uncertainty in the whole set-up."

[just_cant_lose]

Jim chuckles quietly, and looks up at Sherlock from the position of his comfortable lean. Then he squeezes their intertwined fingers at his chest, sips his Hurricane, and holds it up to Sherlock's mouth.

'Sip, darling?' he murmurs, and touches another kiss to his jaw. Only then does he look back at Hannibal.

'Uncertainty is overrated in some matters. We've talked about this.'

Another smile at Sherlock.

'Will's a bit like you, love. On the side of the angels.'

[mightbeagoodone]

"But is he one?" Sherlock asks quietly. "That's the interesting question. If he's only on the side of the angels, he can do anything. But if he is an angel himself, all he can do is fall."

One empathizes.

[cook_the_rude]

"That depends on the fall he will take," Hannibal says. "One might argue he already has fallen."