[hr][CENTER][img]https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/l7lxc8kzzg7.jpg[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=SILVER][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Formal Homecoming[/I] - [I]A.R.C., Pacific Royal Campus[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=SILVER][b]Dance Monkey #4.062:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Hors D’oeuvre & Cummerbund About It[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][color=SILVER][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] [I]Andrew “Banjo” Olyphant[sub][@Hound55][/sub] [/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=SILVER][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [I]With The Lights Down Low[/I][/right][/SUP]
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Cleo's blue eyes surveyed the scene and as she seperated from her teammates, she felt the all too familiar tug in her chest... Desire to dive into the center of it all. To be amongst the crush of people and the tangle of emotions swirling in the air. There was an ache to get lost in it, to be in it - the epicentre of the electricity. But just as quickly... That flicker of fear--knowing she shouldn’t let herself do such a thing. She sighed, grounding herself back to the task at hand. Weaving through the crowd, she moved with careful ease, never lingering too long against someone's space.

Her mind buzzed—faster than her feet. [color=#94b9ff][i]What to drink? What to eat? Are they going to play that song? I hope they don't play that other song. How long will the night go on? When will I want to leave? When will Manny want to leave? Is Manny okay? Did I forget something—what did I forget?[/i][/color] A wisp of something familiar surfaced, like the scent of firewood and old books. [color=#94b9ff][i]Curious[/i][/color]. She paused, stopping briefly in her tracks as she felt it tug, but the sudden pinch at her temples chased it away. The music crashed back into focus, loud and insistent, forcing her back into the moment. [color=#94b9ff][i]Curiouser[/i][/color].

She sped up her pace, nearly crashing into the bar. Elbows down, she pushed up on her tip-toes, one leg lifting, swaying in place like some awkward flamingo with ants in its pants. She scanned the drinks menu wide eyed. Lucas would want something non-alcoholic but fizzy. Effervescent and sweet. Raspberry lemonade. Manny? Definitely strong, no messing about. Whisky, neat. Cleo? A Whisky Sour.

Following her order, there was a presence that tapped for her attention to her left like a knock at the door. She turned. A face she recognised, though no name floated up to greet her as reminder. He was weighed down, the sensation of shadows curling around him, brewing their own storm within. There was a drink on his suit too that had dripped only slightly to the floor. He didn't seem concerned by it, but his heaviness was felt like thick smoke curling in. She blinked slowly, sensing the tendrils of his mood reach out, brushing against her edges. Her foot lowered back to the floor. [color=#94b9ff][i]Where dae I know ye from?[/i][/color]  she wondered.

Still, she was eager to share a word... Break the silence. [color=#94b9ff]“Ye’ve got a wet leg,”[/color]  she said, her lips quirking into a playful smirk, trying to cut through the gloom with a flicker of lightness.

[color=darkgoldenrod]“And yet vodka’s s’posed to be dry.  Just cos it's today, I reckon I’ll let ‘em off without makin’ a civil case about it.”[/color]  He said, raising a glass of orange juice to his lips, his tone more dry than the vodka had been.  A warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips.  The smile reached his eyes, but they looked weary, as if they hadn’t had been called upon for that kind of duty in quite some time.

He tried to place her, but it was difficult in most cases even with those he was more familiar with, as they were out of regular uniform and done up to the nines.  He tried to squint through the fog in his head and pull a name, but that was less than no help.

[i]Where have I seen–[/i]

He slapped his leg suddenly in recognition, then shook his hand off twice as if to lose the moisture he’d just covered his hand in.

[color=darkgoldenrod]“Rollerskate Girl, right?[/color]

[color=#94b9ff]“Ayy,”[/color]  she replied in kind with a smile, [color=#94b9ff]“that's me! And I like the nickname and all, but ye can call me Cleo.”[/color]  She briefly turned to look at the barman as he continued on to making the drinks for her. His accent, too, she noted, another talking point. His mood still held oppressively in the air.

[color=#94b9ff]“Ye sound as far from home as I am. Maybe more actually…”[/color]  she narrowed her eyes, trying to picture the Earth. Trying to figure out the distance, work out who was closer - her eyebrows scrunched for a moment. [color=#94b9ff]“How's life been, not being so upside down?”[/color]  

[color=darkgoldenrod]“Well…  I’ll try to remember it, but I’m not gonna make any promises I prob’ly can’t keep.”[/color]  Names never really stuck with him, it took an uncomfortably long time to remember those he did both on his team and in his dorm, and this was another random girl he’d seen “‘round the traps” who just happened to be in the same year.

He snorted out a quick exhalation and a dry chuckle at how she chose to phrase the Scot’s question, before settling in to answer it.

[color=darkgoldenrod]“I don’t move around as much here, I’ll give it that much.  I mean the weather’s a bit more rough than back home, but fortunately I’ve never really been bothered by the col–”[/color]

He stopped suddenly and the smile drifted from his eyes.  Another exhalation and chuckle at something unsaid.

[color=darkgoldenrod]“Just a different Pacific island, eh?”[/color]  He concluded, changing tack completely.

[color=darkgoldenrod]“How ‘bout you?  It’s ‘round the bend’ for you,”[/color]  He held his hands out, as if gesturing to the globe and then pointing a finger around the top.  [color=darkgoldenrod]“so have they driven ya there yet?”[/color]  The grin once again widening.

[color=#94b9ff]“It's a different lifestyle, that's fer sure. Round the bend? Maybe not. Up the wall?”[/color] She paused, mischief laced her next words. [color=#94b9ff][i]“A little.”[/i][/color]

She watched as all too quickly, a slight sparkle dimmed in his eyes. She waggled her fingers in front of her, [color=#94b9ff]“like this dance thingamajig right?…. Could never have had something like this back home.”[/color]  She chuckled.

[color=#94b9ff]“It'd be a wee daft disco in our school hall.”[/color] Her hands moved and gestured as she talked, [color=#94b9ff]“boys and girls on different sides. Some near-retirement age teacher in DJ mode… But this?”[/color] Cleo exhaled, bringing her elbows back to the surface of the bar. [color=#94b9ff]“Before tonight if someone asked me if I wanted an [i]hors d'oeuvre[/i]? I would’ve assumed I'm being insulted.

Feels like something out of a movie alright.”[/color] She cautiously sensed through his gloom again. [color=#94b9ff]“Gonnae try my best to enjoy it though, for all the effort it's took to do it all.”[/color] She gave a small smile, not holding eye contact for too long, but she cast a quick look to the orange juice, [color=#94b9ff]“I take it… Not your drink that's on ye?”[/color]

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“Weeeell, it is and it isn't.  There's a good yarn there, but I wouldn't even know where to start with tellin’ it.”[/color]

His grin widened further.

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“I'll tell ya what, if you find the joker who called me a cummerbund, I'll get the one who called you an hors d'oeuvre in a headlock and you can work the ribs.”[/color]

[color=#94b9ff]“A side quest?”[/color] Cleo replied with a chuckle as the bartender placed a raspberry lemonade next to her before continuing with the rest of her drinks order. [color=#94b9ff]“And, maybe some other time for your yarn then,”[/color] she added, picking up Lucas’ drink absentmindedly for a sip until she remembered herself and placed it back down just in time. Not before picking out the cocktail umbrella to occupy her idle hands.

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“Speakin’ of side quests, hobbits and… well, he's too big for a dwarf…”[/color]  Banjo mumbled as his roommates struggled to make it through the crowd to get back to him.

[color=#94b9ff]“This might be my last night with my team,”[/color] she sighed, continuing without hearing his snarky mumbles over the night's din, and giving just a small smile. [color=#94b9ff]“Not that ye asked,”[/color] she clarified, [color=#94b9ff]“but I'll tell ye anyway. Lucky you.”[/color] The umbrella opened and closed. Opened and closed. [color=#94b9ff]“The last big night of Eclipse. Who knows what tomorrow will be, for any of us really.”[/color]

Zimmerman puffed up his chest, and lowered his voice an octave.

[Color=dodgerblue][b]“Is this guy bothering you?”[/b][/color]

Banjo blinked twice, perplexed at the display.

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“...”[/color]

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“...oh Bloody Hell, have we started already–?”[/color]  Finally recognising what he was seeing.

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“Rollersk– Chlo– Cleo, this is Zimm–  This is Alec.”[/color]

[Color=dodgerblue][b]“Alex.”[/b][/color]

[Color=darkgoldenrod] “Let a fella finish…  Ale[b]XXX[/b] Zimmerman.  A good sort who reads too many comics and hasn't thought through the fact that if he starts talking in that tone he's going to have to keep doing it or show that's not how he usually bloody speaks…”[/color]

[Color=dodgerblue]“Aww come on, Banjo…”[/color]

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“Zimmerman, this is Cleo.  A regular hyperhuman female who actually speaks in a steady consistent register.  Who's… nervous..?  Experiencing consternation, maybe..? about this possibly being the last night of her team.”[/color]

Cleo's eyes darted between the two, figuring out what was going on quickly enough - the nerves seeped from Alex, in a somewhat endearing way. [color=#94b9ff]“Ye know, I actually think [i]I'm[/i] bothering him…”[/color] she answered quietly, leaning toward Zimmerman to only play at keeping her words from Banjo's ears.

[Color=dodgerblue]“Oh… I don't think so.  It's kind of just the way he speaks that always gives that impression.”[/color]

[Color=red]“Again… Because he's an asshole…”[/color]  Big Steve mumbled, also unheard over the surrounding sounds.

The bartender placed Manny’s whiskey beside the lemonade. No umbrella, she noticed. Again, she glanced between Banjo and Zimmerman. [color=#94b9ff]“Well…. Ale[i]XXX[/i]... It is very nice to meet you,”[/color] she offered an easy smile and her hand to shake.

Zimmerman excitedly grabbed her hand and shook it rigorously, offering a [color=dodgerblue]“Hi.”[/color] which if anything, squeaked out at a higher register than his usual speaking voice.

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“Seamless.”[/color]  Deadpanned Banjo.

He drained his glass of juice and then re-ordered another.

Blinking with the handshake, Cleo chuckled slightly as the nervous excitement from Zimmerman spilled across to her. [color=#94b9ff]“I… uhh. My… That is quite a handshake,”[/color] she said. [color=#94b9ff]“So, Alex,”[/color] she began, withdrawing her hand to her side. [color=#94b9ff]“Are you enjoying the dance? Have you tried the… [i]hors d'oeuvre?[/i]”[/color]

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“Ha!”[/color]  Banjo ejaculated loudly, making no effort to cover his laugh at the in-joke, prompting the pair of young men to only turn and look at him with some confusion, before returning their focus to the girl who had addressed the smaller of the pair.

[Color=dodgerblue]“Thanks.  Dad always said how important a strong handshake was in making a first impression.”[/color]  He grinned broadly, this was going well, he thought.  [Color=dodgerblue]“Yeah, this is great, isn't it!?   I mean… how are you liking it?”[/color]  He lowered his enthusiasm in a far-too-too-late effort to regain his cool and match her energy level, which he'd clearly overshot.

[color=#94b9ff]“Well, it's a lovely shindig,”[/color] Cleo said, as the bartender placed the third and final drink beside her. [color=#94b9ff]“Oh!”[/color] She exclaimed, with a light laugh. [color=#94b9ff]“In case ye wondered, these three aren't all for me,”[/color] she shook her head. [color=#94b9ff]“Not that ye asked, but I’ll tell ye anyway.”[/color] As she spoke, she awkwardly pushed the three drinks together and formed her hands around the triangle of glasses. [color=#94b9ff]“Last night with my team and all. Apart from these two, Alex, are you here with anyone?”[/color]

Zimmerman's face lit up at the question.  [Color=dodgerblue]“No– no.  No, I uhmm… decided to come stag.  Keep options open.  Not… tie myself down to any expectations on the night.  Nice night.  Glamorous.  Good whatdidyoucallit… shindig.”[/color]

[Color=dodgerblue]“Would you, err– would you like some help, Cleo?  You know, with anything?  Finding the others on your team, or carrying your drinks or holding your purse, or…anything?”[/color]

In his enthusiasm, he had sped up a mile a minute. 

Her immediate response was to blink again, nodding along as he hurried through his words. [color=#94b9ff]“I don't need a hand with my purse, but… I do only have two hands - you could help me get my drinks to the table.”[/color] She gave an encouraging smile, hoping to assuage his nerves. [color=#94b9ff]“My friends are at the booth waiting for me…”[/color] 

She knew what this was leading to, aware of the game from the moment he had brought himself over. [color=#94b9ff]“That would be so kind of you– of course I'd be very grateful for your help…Hmmmm…”[/color] She drifted off, leaving deliberate breadcrumbs for him with her words, she would have asked herself but this seemed more important for him.

Alex scooped up the three drinks enthusiastically and headed off for the booths, without further question, advice or opportunity for Cleo to change her mind.

Banjo turned and ordered the same three drinks again from the barkeep.

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“I may not be good with names, but it'll be a cold day in Hell before I forget a bloody drink…”[/color]

[Color=red]“You can't just let him have th–?”[/color]  Big Steve shook his head disapprovingly.

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“You and I both know the man… You chose to come here for your own entertainment.  You tell me, in his haste and enthusiasm, is there anything surer than the fact he's going to wind up wearing those drinks, or get lost with them?  He didn't even get her teammates’ names.”[/color]

Far below, he felt The atmosphere shifted.  Silence growing from where background noise had just appeared.

As Banjo looked over the railing he watched as Aurora planted a knee so deep in Chad’s bulbs he was pretty sure nothing would be growing for a while.  He spat something back, but between the shot he’d just taken and the ambient noise of the venue Banjo couldn’t make out what it was for the life of him.

Instead of following up on the presumed threats, Chad stormed away through a rapidly clearing crowd.  A crowd which cleared too quickly for one familiar diminutive man struggling with carrying three drinks.  With neither concern nor apology he knocked them all down the front of Zimmerman’s suit who could only stand there and watch as his task to impress the woman young woman he’d just met splashed all over him.  Despite being unable to hear, he didn’t have to be an expert in lip-reading to see his forlorn roommate uttered [i]Aww maaaaaan[/i].

The three drinks were quickly assembled on the bar behind Banjo.

[Color=darkgoldenrod]“You take these three, I'll have him get cleaned up and bring him ‘round in a bit.”[/color]  He said to Cleo.  [Color=darkgoldenrod]“He might be a bit rattled.  Thanks for this.”[/color]

[color=#94b9ff]“Ah…”[/color] Cleo sounded out, bringing a hand to her open mouth as she watched it play out. “Well,” she said after a moment. [color=#94b9ff]“Ye've got company in the wet leg club now, at least,”[/color] she shrugged her shoulders. She was overdue heading back anyway, she thought.

[color=#94b9ff]“No. Thank you for your company,”[/color] she said with a smile, turning Banjo's way. Cleo twirled the cocktail umbrella in her fingers still, letting something of their shared joke nestle in it, a slight psionic transference to the folds of paper. [color=#94b9ff]“Here,”[/color] she said, placing it beside him. [color=#94b9ff]“Maybe you'll stay dry next time.”[/color] 

Having spent more than enough time at the bar, she picked up the glasses, offering nothing else but a wink to Steve on her way too.

Banjo threw up half a wave as Cleo left, her seat soon filled with a familiar blonde face.  As she looked at him out of the corner of her eye whilst ordering, he could see that something was brewing from the girl he hadn't heard from in quite some time.

He turned to Big Steve and asked [color=darkgoldenrod]“Could you make a start on helpin’ him out down there, I’ll be with ya both in a bit.”[/color]

She waited in silence until the bartender made eye contact and wordlessly pointed to the martini glass she had just settled down on the bar.

Banjo picked up the umbrella and twirled it in his fingers, waiting for the words of his old friend to penetrate the evening.

[i]Heh…  Hors D’oeuvre…[/i]  A grin creased up the corners of his mouth.

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