ArchivedLogs:Friendship and Romance: Difference between revisions
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Sage is definitely a memorable person, isn't she? | Sage is definitely a memorable person, isn't she? | ||
"Ah, well, perhaps you just ain't a romantic," Eric says, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Two people cross each other's paths in the | "Ah, well, perhaps you just ain't a romantic," Eric says, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Two people cross each other's paths in the 6, sittin' down on their way down to SoHo. One with their book, one with their headphones in. And as the first leaves at Spring street, their eyes meet. The book falls't the floor, the headphones come out. One hand presses against the thick glass, and the other meets it on tha' other side." A pause, several seconds of silence. "An'n next thing you know, you've got postin's on Craigslist's missed connections." | ||
Eric's grin splits his face, glancing back to Josiah. "I think I'm up for'nother drink. Can I get you somethin', or are you still nursing at that negroni?" The police officer raises two fingers to signal for the bartender. "Can I get a Ward 8?" | Eric's grin splits his face, glancing back to Josiah. "I think I'm up for'nother drink. Can I get you somethin', or are you still nursing at that negroni?" The police officer raises two fingers to signal for the bartender. "Can I get a Ward 8?" |
Latest revision as of 04:09, 3 March 2014
Friendship and Romance | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2014-03-02 A meeting leads to a discussion on the philosophy of friendship |
Location
<NYC> Heaven - Chelsea | |
This Chelsea playground offers a divinely gay twist to the normal concept of the afterlife. On the first floor, you can avoid the masses on the dance floor and lounge on comfortable couches in the all-white Ethereal Bar or cross over to the similarly pearly Celestial Lounge to dance beneath the sparkling fractured-mirror decor that turns the entire floor into a glittering paradise. Purgatory is in the back, descending a few steps from Heaven to a subdued karaoke lounge. For those who have a taste for something more than the brightly frosted wonderland with its bubblegum pop music, a flame-licked stairway carries you upstairs, where Hell inexplicably sits above Heaven, all dominatrix-black with patent-leather couches and glowing red lights. Intermittently along the walls are images of those who - through the owners' wishful thinking - are burning in eternal fire: the likenesses of various noted social conservatives are not uncommon. The DJ here spins heavier music and on the dance floor, among the crush of scantily clad bodies and less-than-legal stimulants to keep them dancing all night long, anything goes. Sunday night is not the most busy night for Heaven, but it is certainly busy enough for the dancefloor to have a crowd on each, different people moving to the music filtering through the club. The bars have their share of patrons, most of the chairs full and people coming back and forth to get more drinks and then disappear back into other areas of the club. Purgatory, unusually, seems to be one of the more popular areas of the bar at the moment, with a crowd of students out on some kind of bonding exercises. Some of them have better singing talent than others, so perhaps it is a blessing that the loud music from the other dancefloors sweeps away the sound when you get far enough out of Purgatory. For his part, Eric has left Purgatory with a red drink in hand and a pained look on his face as he sticks one finger into his ear and swivels it back and forth. "Christ," he grouses to no one in particular. "And I thought I couldn't sing." Dressed in a mesh shirt with a black strapped leather jacket tossed open at the front, Eric looks quite ready for the club. The sinfully sized studded pants probably don't hurt either, scrunching as he winds his way through the crowd and knocks back the last of his drink and makes a beeline for Heaven's bar. Leaning against the counter, he glances up and down the row before he turns to look at the drink menu. It's at that very bar where Josiah is receiving a dark and complicated drink from a very butch and toothy bartender. The two share a moment of mild flirtation as Eric arrives. Tonight, Josiah is wearing a pair of black, slim fit corduroy jeans, a simple white printed v-neck, and a pair of shiny white and black sneakers. He lifts his drink and takes the first sip, letting it lap against his tongue as he turns to take in the bar's new arrival. He swallows and offers Eric a smile, leaning one elbow casually against the rim of the bartop. Meanwhile, two ladies are entering the club, beelining for the bar. One of them is almost forcibly dragging the other by her hand, too. Sage isn't a drinker, but, eh, why not give it a shot? The club, not the drinking, of course. They are taking two stools not far from Eric and Josiah, ordering their drinks as they seem to be finishing some sort of conversation they had on the way in. Sage is dressed..rather unfashionably, a gray jacket with a black tanktop underneath, a pair of jeans, and converse, along with her nifty red tinted sunglasses, she's putting her jacket behind her, obviously not getting the memo that these places are usually fashionable (or ignoring it). Araceli, however, is atleast somewhat fashionable, wearing a skirt with a matching top, high heels, and quite a bit of makeup. Eric looks up from his menu when he feels eyes on him, glancing back and forth around the room. His eyes fall on Sage and Araceli - Sage gets a raised eyebrow and a small smile at her outfit - before he turns his head and meets Josiah's gaze. For a moment, anyway, before his eyes break away from the other man's and flick up and down his v-neck and jeans. His smile spreads on his face, and his hand closes the menu. "What're ya drinkin'?" Eric asks, nodding to the glass in the other man's hand. "Looks good." Eric's voice is light and teasing, run through with a Southern accent that living in New York has not quite managed to wear down. "It's a negroni," Josiah tosses out, meeting Eric's accent with his own, that of the familiar New York English. "And not a bad one at that," he adds, taking another quick sip before extending the glass out to Eric with a shrug, as if to say, "Fuck it. Have a sip." The light plays against the glass, giving the drink an orange hue and revealing a twist of citrus rind inside. While he's making his offer, Sage and Araceli come into view just past Eric, and it takes a moment for Josiah to recognize the girl in the strange glasses, but he does, and it's clear on his face that he's surprised to see her in this place. Whilst Araceli gets some sort of fancy alcoholic beverage, Sage has just a glass of club soda. Various gestures Araceli makes show them to probably be more than just friends, as Sage glances an eye towards the men. One eye, not even moving her head, before replying across the bar. "Hello again. It was her idea to come here.". Sage's voice is clear and robotic, before immediately turning back to the quiet conversation her and Araceli were having, Araceli who is a bit red and flustered. Araceli flashes an awkward grin towards the guys. "Don't mind her..she's a bit..abrupt.". "Negroni?" Eric's eyebrows raise for a moment as he reaches across to take the glass from the other man, letting his fingers trail over the inside of Josiah's wrist more than is strictly necessary as he takes the glass from the other man. His head turns to follow Josiah's gaze as he puts the glass to his lips and takes a small sip. He looks over Sage and Araceli again, raising an eyebrow and giving them a wink. "I can't imagine." There is a stripe of bemusement in his voice as he nods a greeting to them. "Friends of yours?" Eric turns back to Josiah, proffering the drink back to him with a mischevious look in his eyes. "I like it." His eyes flick unabashedly up and down the other man, smile widening. "Quite a bit." After relinquishing ownership of his glass, Josiah lifts a hand in a wave to Sage, chuckling as he raises his voice back to her. "I wouldn't have guessed," he says, playfully over the thump of heavenly music. He drops his voice again to speak to Eric, inching a bit closer to the man before taking his drink back. "I wouldn't say friends, but the bespectacled one makes for a memorable conversationalist," he comments, returning the brazen stare. "As I'm sure you might." "We are not friends. Friendship relies on meeting more than once on a random occasion at a crowded coffee shop on a cold evening over a month ago.". Sage's tone hasn't changed, as she recites pretty much the entire reason of her meeting with Josiah. Araceli has definitely quieted up a bit, Sage being..abrupt again. "The key definition of friend is 'a person attached to another by feels of affection or personal regard'. I do not know him well enough so I have neither.". Sage takes another sip of her club soda. "Memorable is somethin' I strive for," Eric says, eyes lighting up as his tone murmurs, dark and tempting. As Sage speaks, Eric's attention is interrupted as he turns to give Sage a curious look indeed. "And I can see why you might say so." He pauses for a second, tapping his fingers along the surface of the bar. "I don't know 'bout that," he objects with a smile. "I've definitely developed feelin's of affection and personal regard from short meetings before. And 'love at first sight' certainly is a bit more'n either affection or regard, wouldn't'ya say?" He asks Sage, with a flash of white teeth in a playful smile. Eric's response elicits an obvious and playful roll of Josiah's eyes. "I bet you do," he says before Eric engages Sage in what's sure be another such memorable moment. Josiah winces and offers his negroni some attention, the liquor bringing out a chuckle in the man. He turns to the others, eyes fixating on Araceli. Somewhere on her face he looks for her feelings about this encounter. Araceli is /definitely/ embarassed about this, though her face also shows that she's grown more or less used to it. Meanwhile, Sage is continuing her conversation as Araceli is getting another drink. "I do not believe in love at first sight. You may feel attraction, but do you honestly care about the person before you get to know them? I believe it takes more than one encounter to grow affection and personal regard to someone.". Sage's tone is definitely not hostile in any way, though, you probably couldn't tell if she was hostile anyhow, as Sage finishes her club soda. Sage is definitely a memorable person, isn't she? "Ah, well, perhaps you just ain't a romantic," Eric says, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Two people cross each other's paths in the 6, sittin' down on their way down to SoHo. One with their book, one with their headphones in. And as the first leaves at Spring street, their eyes meet. The book falls't the floor, the headphones come out. One hand presses against the thick glass, and the other meets it on tha' other side." A pause, several seconds of silence. "An'n next thing you know, you've got postin's on Craigslist's missed connections." Eric's grin splits his face, glancing back to Josiah. "I think I'm up for'nother drink. Can I get you somethin', or are you still nursing at that negroni?" The police officer raises two fingers to signal for the bartender. "Can I get a Ward 8?" Josiah is an actual romantic. As such, he can't help but perk up at Eric's story, despite its puerile ending that sends him nearly giggling. Yeah, yeah, he says, I'll have another. He downs the rest of his drink, ice clinking, the scent of citrus wafting. Setting the glass on the bar, he looks over at Sage. You know, I like the way you speak your mind. I may not agree with you /or/ want to be your friend at this juncture, but you can take that home with you. He winks and turns back to focus on getting drunk. "I believe most of those stories are fictional, I am afraid.". Sage says this calmly, but Araceli glances at Eric's description of the story with a smile, being a romantic herself. "I could not help it if I wanted to. Speaking my mind is just a trait of mine that I was born with, quite literally." Sage continues. "And a negroni for my friend here," Eric says, gesturing towards Josiah. "My friend who I just met." he says, teasingly, as he glances between Josiah and Sage. "Oh, yeah, no doubt. I'd hate'ta think if they were all real. Too sad." He shrugs his shouders, leaning towards the man sitting next to him. "But, what can I say? Ya might not be a bleedin' heart romantic, but I sure am. And proud'a it." "So sad," Josiah agrees, watching the bartender begin his little concoctions with some well-practiced pours. He turns to Eric and smiles, leaning in a bit as well, reflexively. "You and me both. What's your name, anyways?" he asks, glancing over at the two women briefly before focusing his attention on the handsome stranger at his side. "It is no so much sad as it is strange, that people would make up such stories.". Sage quirks a head. Araceli's had a bit to drink now, and is tugging her at the arm. "Hey, let's go dance!". Probably equal parts wanting to dance and wanting to end the conversation, maybe let the two men be alone. Sage gets up, putting her jacket away. "Well, I am called away. Goodbye.". Sage probably isn't that good of a dancer, sadly, as she walks off, prone to embarass Araceli more. "Anything for the attention," Eric murmurs with a shrug of his shoulders, as his head turns to follow the two women towards the dance floor. He pauses for a second to give the bartender a warm smile as the two glasses slide over to the two men sitting at the bar before he turns that smile onto Josiah. "Eric. And you're?" he asks, raising his glass in the air. "T' new friends," he offers, eyes flickering quickly over Josiah once more. "And ta romance." "I'm Josiah," he says, scooping up his new drink and raising it in a subtle, practiced flourish. "To both those things." He drinks and locks eyes with other man. "So, do you dance? I'm feeling kind of loose tonight." Josiah bounces a bit in a goofy sort of way that mimicks the sort of dancing a gay man would probably mock with his friends. "Dance I do, Josiah," Eric says, savoring the other man's name on his lips as he takes a sip of his whiskey. "If you think ya can keep up with me," he says, smirk playing on his lips. "I ain't sure my dancin' looks much like that though," he winks, teasing lightly. As he takes another sip, his other hand trails fingers softly over Josiah's leg to rest on his knee. "But I'd love ta take you dancin'." Josiah narrows his eyes and lifts one side of his face in a sly grin. "I think I can keep up," he says with a wink and a nod to the dance floor. He gives only the slightest glance to the hand on his knee, though his own free hand plays across it with a light touch. "Lead the way?" |