WHO: Noah Connell (THE WOLF), Emerson Hart (THE EMPEROR), Perry Holiday (THE GENIE), and Adam Raines (THE LION)
WHEN: Thursday night, January 24th. BACKDATED!
WHERE: The Cain nightclub.
WHAT: Another guys' night out, this time from the rich and shallow end of the tale pool.
STATUS: In progress!
They weren't getting married. Far from it; none of them were, but two of Noah's own fables were getting hitched this Sunday, and that was definitely close enough to merit a celebration. The wolf never needed an overabundance of reasons to excuse a night out, but between the impending wedding and knowing he hadn't seen these particular friends in a while, this time felt more justified than usual. So as a result, it wasn't all too surprising when he sent the identical message to Emerson and Perry:
It was lazy, last-minute, and off-hand -- just like the man himself. So when he let himself out of the apartment that night -- Adam made noises about having someone to meet, but he might be along later -- Noah considered the implications of getting hammered a few days before a wedding. He could call it a bachelor party in their honour. One that, incidentally, just didn't contain the bachelor himself. Still, Noah was absolutely convinced that he and his pack would have more than enough fun on Morgan's behalf. He hailed a taxi to the Cain a few minutes early, and spent the intervening time loitering on the pavement and lighting up a cigarette.
The line for the club already stretched its serpentine way down the street, but a familiar nod from the man at the door meant Mr Connell and associates would find themselves entirely welcome to bypass the wait.
 | ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} wishboned2008-01-27 05:57 am (local) (link)  |
| And bypass they did, gliding smoothly through the gates to the Savannah and into a coveted sweet spot of a leather booth. Maybe Perry glided a little more smoothly than the rest. For one that was how he always walked, and he was wearing a suit so expensive it practically linted Benjamins; more to the point, he'd just come from another engagement, and still wore whatever bar it was in the air around him. First rounds were on Noah as per the invitational text, but first was a relative term. It was a nice invitational text, though, and he was more than happy to received it. He wished that was the end of his text messages for the night, but just as he lifted a drink (Noah's coin) to his lips, his lapel began buzzing and his stupid grin turned into a scowl, followed by a frown as he put it down without reply. "My clients are so full of shit," he hissed between his teeth. The room kept sliding and writhing like it had before this pronouncement, and by looking out into the crowd Perry determined that he should continue. He put his glass on the table with more force than was necessary, the movements loosened by the alcohol still in the glass. Nonplussed rage made Perry all the more theatrical, spinning advice columns from threads in the air. "Like, okay. So your girlfriend left you. So she was a model. You go! You have fun, you don't try and get out of a fucking Warner Brother's contract! It's tacky. I mean, look at this. Really look." Perry extended one hand across the table, a few fingers off from Michelangelo's Adam (and waiting all the while for Aesop's Adam). His hand indicated the veritable jungle of long legs on display before them. "If you can be someplace, what the fuck is there to be upset about? I ask you fine gentlemen." |
| thelionraines 2008-01-27 06:50 am (local) (link) |
| Aesop's Adam came in talking on his blackberry, smoothing over a minor crisis between a client and a contracter about plumbing fixtures, but by the time he'd reached the booth, he'd finished the conversation and was able to catch the last of Perry's rant. "Hell if I know," Adam answered the mostly rethorical question. Of course, he wouldn't know. One thing that remained consistent about the Lion through all his incarnations, of which too many to count, was the way he (and even she, sometimes) always managed to get the most out of life on his own terms. Sometimes those terms were a little sketchy, but that isn't the point. The point is that Adam was incapable of not taking advantage of situations like the one tonight if he was free to do so. And he was. After giving one of the girls an appreciative once-over, he ordered a beer and slid into the booth. "Whose idea was this place?" |
| antibyron 2008-01-27 07:37 am (local) (link) | |
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| naturewill 2008-01-27 07:55 am (local) (link) |
| In the time it took for Napoleon to mull around in mock-displeasure, Noah used a few precious seconds to finish downing his first mixed drink of choice. The liquor sliding down his throat loosened his tongue, and so he answered smoothly, "It was my choice, kids. Got a standing offer to come back here with some bottle service on the house. Speaking of..." With a click of his fingers, he motioned vaguely towards one of the servers. She instantly flitted over, all scandalously short skirt and carefully-arranged smirk. It was a mark in the woman's favour that she didn't writhe under the combined strength of the four men's appraising looks. After all, they weren't exactly the worst-looking creatures that America's classiest could offer. Nights like this tended to end with one or several of the group evaporating into the general crowd of scantily-clad starlets desperate for attention, before they congregated back in order to move on to the next watering-hole. "How about a bottle of gin? Bet it'll keep Perry's demons at bay." Noah's quirk of a smile meant he wasn't deaf to the irony. He had his own share of frustrating clients. This was why his phone was on silent; they'd have to deal with his voicemail tonight, hysterical breakdowns be damned. |
| thelionraines 2008-01-27 08:31 am (local) (link) |
| "I like it," Adam said. Of course, his attention was currently being held by a dark-haired server who moved with the grace of a gazelle, so you could forgive him if the statement had double meaning. "And I'm all for helping Perry keep his demons at bay." Without waiting for Noah to do it, he signaled for one of the servers (alas, the one he'd been noticing wasn't in their section, but he wasn't opposed to redheads, either). "Can we get a bottle of Bombay, sweetheart? Thanks." Naturally, he accompanied his request with a flash of a smile in her direction. |
| antibyron 2008-01-27 09:17 am (local) (link) | |
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| naturewill 2008-01-27 09:40 am (local) (link) |
| Noah eyed the ebb and flow of tonight's socialites with an askance look. There were a few interesting figures in the crowd, but tonight would be strictly non-business on Noah's end; he wasn't looking for any hint of music beyond what her voice sounded like in his ear or, possibly, in bed. He did look slightly taken aback once he actually recognised someone, however. "Shit. She still around? Thought she'd crashed and burned a while back. Her last album was shit." The man sent a Very Significant Look at one particular primped blonde at the other end of the room. Yeah, okay, maybe there was some business talk. He couldn't resist commentary on the pale mockery of human beings that sometimes drifted through these circles. Having to work very intimately with men and women in showbusiness had the tendency to do that to you. |
| wishboned 2008-01-27 05:25 pm (local) (link) |
| Noah could have the blonde. Perry followed the washed-up songstress as she slunk across the room, wrapped in 2003's finest black minidress and an array of bangle bracelets that slid down her wrist like clips on a shower curtain. He wasn't even sure how she'd gotten in (Noah's appraisal was apt), but none of that altered the sanctity of her neckline or the way their snobbery rolled off her back. He ran a thumb along the edge of the glass and circulated some dubious gossip. "I heard she found religion." Even as he issued this suspicious piece of insight, she crawled into the lap of a gentleman not unlike themselves, so he could only smirk, "Apparently lost it around ninth ave." Somehow that made him thoughtful and depressed and he was pleased when the bourbon arrived. He thought some unpleasant things about the woman, harsh stuff for a man who'd taken up with a washed-up DJ, and why the godforsaken hell was he thinking still? There was something to be said for the desperate ones, though; the rest of the guys were a little younger, and if they were lucky they'd learn that, though if they were very lucky they never would. He passed the bourbon to Noah and the water bottle incredulously to Napoleon. |
| thelionraines 2008-01-28 05:33 am (local) (link) |
| "And found herself a sugar daddy instead, the poor bastard," Adam noted derisively in a tone that clearly said better him than one of us before moving on from the has-been songstress and focusing his attention on scoping out the girl who the model-in-need of-a-career-boost. It took him a few minutes, but by the time the Bombay arrived, he'd spotted her. "That one," he told Napoleon, indicating with a nod to the 5'10" brunette sitting at the far end of the bar. She looked vaguely anorexic, with curves that were a bit too angular, and she definitely wasn't legal. Plus, those heels. Those things looked fucking dangerous, man. "Only a model could walk in those." It brought back memories of this one girl he'd dated shortly after he'd moved back to LA in mid 2002 who'd thought it would be sexy to try and wear them, only to twist her ankle before she'd even walked the length of the bedroom. Any ladies reading this should take note: trips to the emergency room to make sure your ankle isn't broken aren't sexy. At all. And it is so not worth it. They're just going to come off anyway. |