ArchivedLogs:Shake Together A Dash Of Party Planning, 2-3 Drops of Instruction, A Wedge Of Summertime; Strain Over Ice

Shake Together A Dash Of Party Planning, 2-3 Drops of Instruction, A Wedge Of Summertime; Strain Over Ice
Dramatis Personae Isra, Natalie
In Absentia	2016-06-16 "Even if you forget to invite anyone else, the man is a party all his own."
Location <NYC> Busboys and Poets - East Harlem
A quiet, artsy spot nestled away on a side street in East Harlem, Busboys and Poets combines cafe and bookstore in a way a Starbucks tacked on to a Barnes & Noble could never achieve. The food is a solid, multi-national cuisine menu that caters to all kinds of dietary choices, and its fair-trade tea menu is extensive. Its weekend brunch tends to draw a large crowd, but there is ample enough seating both at tables and on its many comfortable armchairs and couches that at other times of the week there is never a wait. The walls are adorned with the work of local artists, and tucked in among and alongside the couches are rows upon rows of books, with a definite slant towards the political and the bohemian. It's just after suppertime and the restaurant is not doing a lot of business, though there are a few clusters of regulars at their favorite tables and at the bar. Making no special effort to fold her wings in, Isra alone takes up a third of the corner booth. Her skin is a luminous lavender with an unexpected green sheen, except her wings, which are jet black and shot through with iridescent silver veins. She wears a simple white himation and holds a large black mug in her long-fingered hands. Several empty plates lie on the table in front of her. Across from Isra, Natalie takes up far less space than her companion. She's dressed in a plain black ribbed tank top, grey-green cargo pants, red hair tied back in a French braid. The chicken salad sandwich and tomato gazpacho in front of her are both half-empty; she's ignoring both at present in favor of a tall glass of lemonade. "Does Dusk do birthdays?" She's wondering kind of idly as she crunches over a piece of ice. "Ion was saying this summer needs /all/ the partying -- well." She tips the glass to one side, watching the ice shift and clink within it. "... though not like he needs much of /any/ excuse." Isra lifts the mug for a drink, her wings hitching up in a small shrug. 'Yes, but not big parties,' she signs with her free hand. Then, aloud, "Usually just some rock climbing and board gaming with close friends. But, no, Ion doesn't need a birthday to throw a party. Neither do you, if you feel so inclined." She lifts her bare eyebrow ridges slightly. "Do you?" Natalie leans back in her seat, lifting her glass to take another sip. Crunch another piece of ice. "I feel like everyone's stressed as hell lately and could use a break." Her smile is a little crooked. "Though I don't know if I'm the best when it comes to throwing parties. Have some stiff competition." "I do not disagree." Isra's ears press back against her smooth, hairless skull. "If you worry about your party-throwing prowess, you can always solicit assistance." She raises her coffee to her lips, but the cup doesn't quite conceal her sharp-fanged smile. "I would be happy to lend a hand." "It hasn't historically been one of my strongest suits." Natalie sounds unbothered about this, admittedly, shoulder lifting in a careless shrug. She quirks an eyebrow at Isra's offer of assistance, mouth twitching up into a quicker brighter smile. "Yeah? So if you were going to throw the /best/ party where would you start?" "I expect that most of my acquaintances and friends--even my brothers and sisters--would tell you partying is also not my strong suit." Isra sets her mug down and steeples her hands, gleaming black talons clicking together. "But I have learned from some of the finest partiers in the entire city." She cocks her head to one side. "I would start by determining what /kind/ of party is in order, and what scale. An intimate gathering of friends requires very different preparation than a mixer for several dozen virtual strangers." "So would you say you're maybe a sophomore partier?" Natalie's lips have pursed, brows drawing together in an expression of /very/ serious scrutiny. Which she is turning on Isra! Intently. "I think we should aim somewhere in between that. A gathering of several dozen -- intimate friends." "Thereabouts, yes." Isra's ears swivel forward, and she considers this, tapping her chin with one long-taloned finger. "I would first secure a venue with a large open space and at least two indoor or otherwise sheltered areas. If the venue doesn't have a sound amplification system, I would rent or borrow one. Then I would contact a caterer--probably my cousins--and order several cases of cider and beer. I would send out invitations and, lastly, bring Ion." Her eyes gleam with mirth. "The last step is crucial, of course." "Food, location, music, booze," Natalie ticks these things off on her fingers with an increasingly studious look. "Ion. In a pinch --" She leans in, eyes a little bit wider, tone thoughtful, "can that last one substitute for the others?" Isra nods very solemnly, once up and once down. "Just so. In fact, if you only have time to obtain one of those items, you should absolutely prioritize him." She picks up her coffee again. "Even if you forget to invite anyone else, the man is a party all his own." "Feel like I should be taking notes." Natalie taps a forefinger against her temple before taking another sip of lemonade. "But I'll be committing this to /memory/. And," she delivers this promise with great earnestness, "when I'm a world-renowned partier, I'll be sure to thank you in my awards acceptance speech. For giving me the foundations needed to get my start." "You honor me," Isra intones, bowing her head. "But I ask no more than the knowledge that you will further the art of the party in this world, in all its myriad manifestations. Perhaps..." She drains her coffee and sets the mug down. "Perhaps we might throw a summer solstice party next week. Together." "/All/ its manifestations. That is a tall order." Natalie's smile suggests more of a /challenge/ in this than a protest. "But solstice seems like a good place to start."