Grand Opening!

[trifurcate]

Characters: Bryn Zethir and EVERYONE!
Date: Friday Evening, September 13th
Location: Bryn's Unnamed Bar
Situation: It's time for a grand opening!
Warnings/Rating: None expected but label your own threads if necessary.

After weeks of scrimping and saving, planning, organizing, working every day to get everything just so, Bryn's tavern is finally ready to open. There were times she wasn't sure it was ever going to happen, because what did she know about running a business, having only been a customer all of her adult life? There was still a chance that this would spectacularly flop and she would be broke and back to square one again. But tonight isn't the night to worry about that. One thing Bryn does know how to do is throw a party.

So, the two story has been scrubbed and polished within an inch of its life. The lanterns inside and out are burning with fresh candles. The bar is fully stocked, the kitchen has been bustling all day with food preparations, and for tonight, the stage is occupied by some of Keeliai's finest and liveliest kedan musicians. At one corner corner of the first floor, a table with ten jars can be found. Before each jar is a suggested name for the new tavern, and baskets of smoothly polished pebbles to be used to cast votes. Each attendee is welcome to vote for the name of their choosing, and Bryn will call her tavern by whichever one is the most popular.

All that's missing are her guests, whom she hopes to keep as customers over the coming weeks, months, or however long Bryn's stay in the city is.

-=-=-=-=-

Poll #14201

Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 27

View Respondents

Bryn's tavern needs a name, and the following options have been suggested! Every character attending gets a single vote and the one with the most votes will be the one picked!

View Answers

Bar In-Between
2 (7.4%)

The Brazen Pack-Beast
1 (3.7%)

The Brazen Turtle
10 (37.0%)

The Carapace
1 (3.7%)

Chelonauts
0 (0.0%)

The Frisky Swizard
8 (29.6%)

Iron Turtle
2 (7.4%)

Nowhere
2 (7.4%)

The Red Lion
1 (3.7%)

That Place
0 (0.0%)

Comments

Willow Rosenberg ☆ Open

[guiltapalooza]

It's somewhat melancholy to show up without any of her friends in tow. Even when she'd been in Devon and scared that they'd never want to speak to her again, Willow at least knew that they existed out there somewhere. Now she has no such certainty, and although the first foreigner run tavern opening up is an admittedly exciting event and she wants a piece of it, it's difficult to be going to the local Bronze equivalent alone.

But she's never going to meet anyone if she stays alone at home moping, trying to meditate to mixed success. She's still scared to use too much magic here, not due to any native quality but just because she is very much alone. Magic is almost commonplace on Tu Vishan, and no one else seems to have an appreciation for the kind of role it plays in her life. A complex, addictive one, that she neverless can't and wouldn't want to suppress.

Willow slinks into the bar, technically old enough to drink now but not a huge fan of it, and slides onto a high seat at a small table back out of the way. She toys with some indeterminate drink, having watered it down so it's only lightly alcoholic, and looks out at the crowd. Initiating social contact had never been one of her skills, and it isn't spontaneously coming to her now, either.

Maybe coming alone just to be a lonely wallflower wasn't her best idea.

[manofiron]

For a bar built in a city on the back of a turtle, it’s a pretty nice place. At least, that’s Tony’s opinion as he surveys what his large donation has helped to create. He doesn’t really remember the details of that transaction. He knows that it started with an inebriated console call and ended with buying a building that he turned over to a woman he doesn’t know, but the rest he’s had to rely on JARVIS to fill him in on.

Why he goes, he doesn’t really know. Once upon a time, he’d be looking for someone to take home. Now, three years after Afghanistan, he’s come to grips with the fact that sex is pretty much out of the cards. Most people don’t find scars and fusion reactors all that attractive. Being there in the sort of place he remembers visiting quite often, he feels that lonely sense of being out of place quite keenly.

And with loneliness comes the parched, burning desire for a drink.

He heads to the bar almost immediately, eyes on the prize of liquid numbness, and it’s only after he’s gotten his drink and turned around that his gaze, roaming listlessly over the sea of unfamiliar faces, lights upon one he knows. He takes a sip of his drink, welcomes the burn as it slides down his throat, and then wanders over.

“Hey, Elphaba,” he says in greeting, eyes drifting to the top of her head, which is almost disappointingly bereft of a pointy witch's hat. “Where’s your hat?”

[guiltapalooza]

"Left it at home," she says glumly. "Along with all of my friends. Come save me from being destitute and alone?"

The line sounds like a come on, but it's not. Willow puts absolutely nothing past a small teasing inflection, lightening up the moroseness, into her tone. She's used to exchanging lines like that with her friends and thinking nothing of it.

Being called Elphaba sends another pang of nostalgia in her, though this time it's a familiar one, not dependent on location. Spike had always called Tara Glinda and as much as she'd earned the name, Willow had just as much earned this one. She's sure he doesn't mean it as anything but a witticism, but she's stuck fast in her grieving and everything reminds her of it. She's gamely trying to pretend otherwise. She had promised to try not to dump her issues on him.

Willow gestures at the empty seat next to her with one hand, the other set of fingers toying with the rim of her glass.

[manofiron]

Taking the indicated seat, Tony shrugs, all casual negligence. “Actually, I was coming to join you in the woeful corner of destitute loneliness, but hey, if you want put a positive spin on it so I look good, I’m definitely all right with that.”

He gets it. He totally and completely gets it. What he sees before him is a more social, prettier version of exactly what he’s been going through for the past… forever. It feels like forever. Considering he may not have a life outside of the turtle, it may very well be forever. It sucks and he hates it and it looks like she understands what he’s going through.

Which makes it his job to drag her out of it. No one else should have to feel like this. That he does ought to be enough.

“Besides, there’s only room for one person in this corner and I was here first. Literally, here on the turtle first. You’re going to have to go claim your spot out there in social land, I don’t like to share.”

[guiltapalooza]

Making no move to leave, Willow says contemplatively, "I think us talking counts as socializing. It's tricky like that. If we just stay here and keep talking, it won't be the corner of destitute loneliness anymore."

She looks out over the crowd, seeing everyone mingling and drinking and doing general bar things, and this time doesn't feel such an awful pang of nostalgia. Here she is at her little table with someone else, who knows her name and gets her references, and for right now, that's good enough for Willow.

Glancing back at him, she asks with a slight smile, "You up for it?"

[manofiron]

He eyes her warily, like she’s the shadiest character he’s ever met and he just knows that the innocuous suggestion is really a cover for a nefarious plan to drop him over the edge of a pier in concrete shoes. “I don’t know. This whole socialization thing sounds a little sketchy. I mean, it starts off innocently. A little conversation. A couple smiles. Maybe a handshake. And then before you know it, you’re friends and there are barbeques and going to boring events together and awkward sexual tension that’s either resolved badly or hangs on for years only to explode badly. I’m not really sure I want to dive back in to those murky waters.”

It’s all bullshit. He’s pretty confident that she knows that it’s all bullshit. That’s okay. He’s not trying to sell her on it. He’s just trying to take her mind off of the fact that she’s in Turtleworld hell for the next all the years of her life.

“Eh, what the hell, right?” he asks, feigning nonchalance as he takes another sip of his drink. “Sure. I’ll give it a shot. But if it turns into going to the bathroom in groups and crying at dances because the boys are ignoring us, I’m out.”

[guiltapalooza]

Her smile widens almost against her will. It's much easier to be cheerful, which is more her natural state, when there's someone to exchange slightly pointed flippant jokes with about the situation.

"It'd be because the girls are ignoring us," she corrects him primly. "I'm gay. So we get to skip the whole awkward sexual tension thing, too. There's no tension." She'd done that with Xander and Tony was uncomfortably right about how well that'd ended. At least their friendship hadn't dissolved over it, and by now it was ancient history. She'd no more try dating Xander again than she'd try hitting on Giles.

Just the thought was kind of funny, imagining his reaction. Lots of glasses cleaning, she decides.

"But barbecues, there might be barbecues. That's what you're signing on for this ride, buddy."

[manofiron]

"That's kind of disappointing. The lack of tension. High drama makes for more interesting public functions." But he smiles as he says it, not really as disappointed as he proclaims himself to be. She's not the first gay woman he's met, and with the reactor, it isn't like he's actually on the prowl for company in the bedroom tonight. It's a rare individual who isn't put off by him the moment he takes his shirt off, and the last one he'd met is gone now.
 
"But I guess being your wingman's not such a bad trade-off. Just, you know, don't expect Bermuda shorts and shirts with parrots on them at these barbecues. I have a reputation. It's not a good one, but it's mine, and I work damn hard at making it terrible. Parrots will ruin it. Completely."
 
He has to stop to take a breath, and when he does, he uses the time to nod toward the room at large. "So okay, fill me in. Which chick are we scoping out?"

[guiltapalooza]

Willow is so not the type to want high drama in her public functions. In fact, she's not much for public functions at all. She lets him continue, though, well versed in ramble tendencies, and she can't help but be reminded of Xander in his description.

"Don't worry, I already have someone for the terrible shirts at barbecues," she teases, trying not to be even more homesick at the reminder. She ends up sounding wistful. "And, um, none. No scoping. I don't really... scope. Mostly that sort of thing just happens, or, or doesn't, and I try to undergo that process with a minimum of public embarrassment."

[manofiron]

"I wouldn't know about public embarrassment. I'm kind of immune at this point." He's sure that he's felt it at least once in his life, though when is somewhat difficult to remember. Probably when he was still a kid and susceptible to other peoples' opinions.

"This no scoping thing, though, that's troubling. That worries me. Nothing happens unless you make it happen, which means you have to find a girl, talk to her, get to know her, invite her home, the whole nine yards." It's difficult to imagine not having the confidence to do exactly what he's saying, especially since Willow isn't an unattractive woman. "Or is that a thinly veiled I'm never getting laid with a guy lurking around making me look straight complaint? Because I can go pick up a guy and hang all over him, sort of dispel that concern right away."

[guiltapalooza]

"Oh no," she says quickly, eyes widening and hurriedly taking a sip of her drink to try to mask just how uncomfortable she is with this topic.

"Don't... drape yourself over someone on my account. I don't really want to-- do that. Get laid." She's an adult, she can say the words. Willow awkwardly shrugs. "It just doesn't seem worth it to me unless I care about them, and that's not going to happen overnight."

Plus they have a lot to live up to being compared to Tara, and Willow isn't sure she wants to lay that on anyone. Kennedy had been fun and encouraging, in her own way; somehow saved from being a rebound by her sheer determination in pursuing Willow. But that doesn't mean she's eager to repeat the attempt, and sex with strangers is something she can't even fathom for herself.

[manofiron]

Now there’s a concept that Tony finds alien: having sex with someone he cares about. Part of his skepticism about the notion is that he doesn’t typically care about people. Generally speaking, he cares, but it’s the vague, hands-off kind of distant caring that most humans reserve for things like the ozone layer. Yes, they care that the atmosphere isn’t depleted of the screen that prevents everyone from being burned to death by the sun, but no, they really can’t be bothered to stop buying their giant SUVs that emit harmful carbons into the air. The rest of it is simple experience. The few times he has slept with people he cared about, it has always ended badly. Usually either in the lobby of a mental hospital, a normal hospital, or a morgue.

“It’s actually easier if you don’t care,” he tells her helpfully. “All that drama and the inevitable explosive conclusion that occasionally ends up with a police report being filed doesn’t happen when you don’t care. You meet someone, you have some fun, then you go your separate ways and no one gets hurt or tries to murder you or steal your stuff.”

Maybe he’s made some poor relationship choices in the past. It’s possible. Very possible.

“But okay. We can take it slow. I haven’t been a wingman in years, I’m probably rusty anyway.”

[guiltapalooza]

Willow's face scrunches up in disagreement as he goes on. She can't totally deny the grain of truth there, that actual caring leads to a lot of drama, but he's painting totally the wrong picture, in her opinion. What it says about his relationship choices, she diplomatically doesn't dwell on.

"I don't want it to be easier," she complains, toying with the little paper umbrella in her drink. It wasn't supposed to come with one; she'd just wanted it. "And, you know, sometimes it's really easy. It can be the easiest thing in the world. That's what makes all the hard parts worth it."

Realizing that she's waxing poetic akin to a romance novel, Willow lets out a gusty, mournful sigh. "Sorry. I'm pretty much guaranteed to mope on this subject. You might want to find someone else to play wingman to."

She's trying really, really hard not to mention Tara directly and get that mess everywhere. She's not sure she could contain her grieving, maintain the social distance she's supposed to, if it came up. It's been over a year, and that's still just not enough time.

[manofiron]

This is the problem with interacting with people in little increments here and there; once he has to do it for real, he doesn’t really know how to deal with them. Is the appropriate response to inquire about why she’s moping or ignore it? It’s not like math. There aren’t any rules, and just when he thinks he knows the right way to respond to someone in a given situation, he discovers that it’s the wrong one for reasons that are beyond him.

“Wingmen don’t go where they’re wanted,” he says sagely, opting for something somewhere between serious inquiry and completely joking. “They go where they’re needed.”

And as far as he’s concerned, he’s needed here. The moping comment alone is proof of that.

“So let’s start off with an easy question. What brought you here in the first place?”

[mccallmemaybe]

Scott's only here because he woke up from a nap to a note from his friends saying they were attending the opening of a new bar. He didn't like being in his suite by himself so he decided to check it out. He wished they'd just woken him up so they could have all gone together but maybe he looked too peaceful in his sleep to be woken... Unfortunately his friends had forgotten to write down where the bar actually was but luckily he had an enhanced sense of smell that made it easy for Scott to track down his friends by their scent.

Arriving at the bar, Scott noticed the jars and voted which named he liked most, then went looking for his friends...

But another one of his werewolf abilities made him notice the redhead sitting by herself. Scott could sense emotions. There was a strong sense of loneliness coming from her that made Scott stop in his tracks and frown. He couldn't ignore it, not when she seemed so... sad. Maybe talking to someone would cheer her up. He'd find his friends later.

Scott took a seat at her table and offered her a friendly smile, quickly trying to think of something to strike up a conversation. "So what name did you vote for or is it strictly confidential?"

[guiltapalooza]

Willow's not used to being randomly approached, still, and is taken aback for half a second, having an internal me? moment. But she recovers. She's a lot less of a shy wallflower now than she was years ago.

Just a sad one, apparently.

The choice of topic is an effective one. "I don't think the bar name is like the primaries," she says with an answering smile, toying with her drink. "Um, if you know what primaries are. Anyway, I voted for the Brazen Turtle. It's so... brazen."

[mccallmemaybe]

Scott's not the kind of guy to approach strangers back home, he's a little socially awkward and he's never had a lot of friends. It's always just been him and his best friend, Stiles, who he wouldn't trade for the world. But Scott's trying to make an effort to socialize on the turtle, if only because Stiles has been telling him they need to get out more.

"Uh..." That's a definite no to knowing what primaries are. "I know what brazen means?" Cue embarrassed laughter. "I went for The Brazen Pack-Beast." He only liked it because it had the word "pack" in it.

[guiltapalooza]

She's entirely used to making geeky references none of her friends understand, so Willow isn't put off by his lack of knowledge at all.

In fact, she grins slightly. "Solidarity in brazenness. Not that I'm a great embodiment of that," whoops, suddenly some awkward in there, "but uh, it sounds good for a bar. All... encouraging the loosening of inhibitions."

Willow's about the least likely candidate for that, especially given how bad an idea it is if she does manage it. But it sure sounds good.

[mccallmemaybe]

"Me neither," Scott agrees about lacking brazenness. He laughs at the last part of what she says. "I guess that's what bars are for." Not that Scott is a likely candidate for losing his inhibitions either. He can't even get drunk because werewolves seem to be immune to alcohol where he's from.

It's probably weird that they're talking and don't know each other's names, so he introduces himself. "I'm Scott."

[guiltapalooza]

It's actually encouraging to her to find someone that feels similarly socially awkward. Willow's always made closest friends with those people, so she smiles at him more naturally. She's only had about half a drink, and isn't planning on having any more than that, which makes them a right pair in a bar.

"Willow. Nice to meetcha. So what are you doing at a bar if it's, as we've established, not for inhibition loosening?"

[mccallmemaybe]

"I was actually looking for my friends, Stiles and Isaac. They said they were coming here. I think Stiles wanted to ask for a job." Although Scott can't see them, he can definitely smell them around here somewhere, but he'd got distracted by Willow's melancholy mood. It seems to be getting better though. Scott's glad he made the decision to talk to her. He likes cheering people up. "Have you got a job?"

[guiltapalooza]

"Nope," she says, slightly guiltily, playing with her glass. "I'm not really sure where to start. I've never had a job before. Been too busy with all the, uh, college and demon fighting. Kinda full time occupations."

Buffy had always had to find jobs once her mother had died, and Willow hadn't envied her. It was no wonder she'd cracked somewhat under the stress in all the various ways she had. But Willow being spared from that did mean that she had no work experience whatsoever now, and she was at a loss for where to start.

"What about you?" Maybe he'll have good ideas on the job hunting front.

sorry for the late reply! feel free to ignore

[mccallmemaybe]

Scott really wasn't expecting demon fighting to follow after something as normal as college. And she sounded so casual about it.

"That's a pretty good excuse for not working... I used to help out a veterinary clinic back home after school and weekends. Now it feels weird having so much free time here." He was enjoying the time off but with his friends finding work, he was going to need to get a job too to occupy himself or he'd spend most of his days on the turtle bored alone.

"You're serious about the demon fighting, right?" Scott can't help but ask, wanting to know more.

no trouble!

[guiltapalooza]

Willow's taken to the cavalier attitude around here about magic and superheroes and so forth like a fish to water, that's for sure. She's always awkwardly struggled to keep her secret activities a secret, and now that she doesn't have to, she just drops them into conversation without fanfare.

Scott might think working at a veterinary clinic wouldn't be impressive to someone who regular fights demons, but Willow's getting that characteristic expression of a girl met with a cute animal. "That's really sweet of you," she says warmly. "I used to have a cat. Miss Kitty Fantastico. I miss her."

There's some mopey wistfulness in there, half for her cat and half for Tara, who she'd owned her with, that Willow quickly tries to suppress.

"Yeah-- totally serious. It's all a big secret at home, but I stumbled onto it in high school and I've been helping out ever since."

[mccallmemaybe]

"I was getting paid," Scott points out that he wasn't just working there out of the kindness of his own heart, the money was an incentive, especially when his mother was a single parent. Though to be honest, he wouldn't have minded working at the clinic for free. He was that kind of kid. Nice and helpful.

"It was rewarding but sad sometimes." Rewarding when he saw an animal he helped get better, sad when he watched an animal die and couldn't do anything about it. "Cool name," Scott comments on her cat.

"I can relate, stumbling into unfamiliar territory in high school..." Just not of the demon kind, of the werewolf kind instead. "So how do you stop a demon?" He figures it might be useful for him to know if he ever comes across one here.