mogget_cat | OOM: New Orleans with Hannibal and Jim

An optimist might say the day upon the other side of the door is balmy, but only because it's a little too early in the afternoon for it to be called sultry.

And only a little too early. Already halfway down its trek across the sky, the sun's great heat is partially mitigated by the sea-scented breeze off the Gulf and the shade of decorated balconies. Groups of people walk along Bourbon Street in front of the small alleyway in which the door from Milliways appears. The alley entrance is somewhat sheltered from the street by a fire-escape so none notice three dapper gentlemen arriving from nowhere. Faint conversations and laughter and the mingling strains of lively music reach them, and the varied smells of a port city known for its cuisine.

Yrael's green eyes glance up at the roof-edges for a moment as they enter, a half-smile on his face, before he turns to his guests. "Welcome to New Orleans."

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'Appreciate the invitation. Thank you.'

Jim lifts his glass too, lazy and languid in his chair. The food looks good, there's a party on the streets, and the company is made up of his kind of people. He has no complaints.

"We have to thank you, indeed," Hannibal says, lifting his glass, and then drinking. "To our charming host and his city!"

Yrael is a decent actor, but even he has difficulty managing to look modest, so he doesn't generally bother. His look, instead, is appreciative.

"It is all the better when shared with compelling company," he replies, lifting his drink. "To an enjoyable night."

Jim tilts his in silent toast, and drinks. It's always better to attempt oysters with alcohol and while talking, otherwise he thinks too much about the way they actually taste.

But yeah, compelling company. He wonders what, if anything, the others might be compelled to by the end of the night - it's not as though he's unaware of some specific tastes between them - but to hell with it, he's here for a good time. He can always amuse himself if they decide to go off for a late supper.

'Stop me if I drink too much,' he says with a grin, and twirls a fork in his hand to get started on dinner.

'I'll never manage to stay as polite as you two otherwise.'

This isn't quite true. Jim has excellent manners, in the sense that he can be utterly polite and charming as he fucks up someone's situation. But it's a veneer he's happy to shed, if necessary - and of course he is also aware that he could be seen as the odd one out in the party. So it's just a friendly heads-up, mainly aimed at Hannibal. Don't get any ideas, friend.

"There are times for when the gloves come off," Hannibal agrees. "And those when, on the other hand, they go on."

He smiles as he sips his drink.

"And there are people who matter more than what manners they show," Yrael remarks, amused. He has met both Will Graham and Sherlock Holmes. Everyone has an exception to their rule.

"So long as one does not jeopardize the place I have made for myself in this world, I care not what mask or face one chooses to wear." It's all masks to him. Politeness isn't an issue. Threatening what he has built for himself would be an issue.

The oysters are, in true New Orleans fashion, delicious.

Jim has no desire to mess up Yrael's place here. He likes Yrael, and that happens rarely enough to be worth hanging on to.

Oysters. Eh. It's actually not the taste he objects to, it's the texture, but he has issues with sensory things at times. He eats them anyway, because, manners.

'Do either of you know Ava, in the bar?'

He knows Hannibal does. He doesn't expect him to deny it, but he only asks direct questions when there's nothing to be gained from seeing what people say to an indirect one.

"I do," Hannibal says, after slowly ingesting the first oyster in silence.

Yrael also tries the oysters while he thinks on the question. He is a fastidious eater no matter what his shape.

"Ava... Ava Wilson?" He replies, hesitantly. "If it is the same Ava, then yes. We fought together the day Milliways was unmade and then restored. She is quite useful in battle."

Not everyone can get demons to twist their own heads off.

'Is she?'

Interesting.

'What's her story?'

"From a modern world with lots of hidden demons, devils, and supernatural shenanigans," Hannibal says.

"With her own connection to those hidden demons, devils, and supernatural shenanigans," Yrael says, sipping his wine. "I had never seen so many demons suddenly inclined to break their own necks and gouge out their own eyes."

That's what he wanted to know.

'So she can control them? And presumably summon them at will?'

Hmm.

"I heard rumours about a very tame pack of hellhounds," Hannibal says.

"There was certainly control, followed by her pleased satisfaction at the demons' inexplicable self-destruction. She did seem like she was enjoying herself."

"As for summoning, I did not notice any explicit summoning of demons on her part. But there was much going on at the time, so I may have missed it."

His attention was mostly taken up by his twice-thwarted brother trying his best, yet again, to ruin what other people enjoy.

Hmmm. Interesting. Jim fiddles with his fork, eyes far away for a moment, then puts it down and sits back. One oyster is enough.

'If she didn't summon them, someone must have.'

He knew he wasn't wrong about that smell of sulphur.

'Thanks.'

Hannibal eats another oyster.

"Different demons," he says. "The ones they fought apparently just happened, as opposed to the ones she can summon. You can have demons on both sides of a fight."

"The demons we were fighting issued forth from the Darkgate that had opened upon the baseball diamond. Those patrons who weren't fighting hid in the Lost and Found box, or made sure to be back in their own worlds. There were earthquakes, great creatures of darkness, and something like a continuous explosion or implosion in the sky as well, which threatened the tenuous space-time of Milliways," Yrael says, continuing to enjoy the oysters and wine.

"My brother was also there, making himself a nuisance." He says this, of course, like it was no big deal. Not at all requiring the quick addition of shielding strong enough to reflect a chaos magic-type nuclear-scale explosion.

Jim's eyebrows raise.

'And I missed it? For fuck's sake, that's hardly fair.'

It sounds brilliant.

'Will it happen again, do you think?'

"Everybody who was there has the best stories to tell," Hannibal says. "I liked to listen to my friend Urquhart talk about that tense time, even though he was dead for the last day or so. Ava's hellhounds ate him."

"Even that death didn't stick to him," Yrael says, grinning toothily. "Urquhart died in his world and came to Milliways, I killed him myself in Milliways and he came right back. Ava's hellhounds ate him... but his death finally took when those zombies broke into the bar."

Yrael drinks; he had enjoyed Urquhart's company when he was in Milliways.

"I do not know if so many apocalypses will descend upon the bar again, but then, we did not know it would happen the first time. Or if that even was the first time."

'So that's what happens when you kill a dead person in the bar? They just come back?'

Tedious.

'Hardly seems worth the effort, unless it's just for the fun of it.'

It goes without saying that he won't mind a bit if another apocalypse should descend, so he doesn't bother saying it.

"And in between, he was eaten by a shapeshifter in black panther form," Hannbal says, conversationally. "He kept getting in trouble. Killed Teja once, too, just to see what happened, on a dare."

"Him killing Teja and nearly killing Charlie was why I killed Urquhart. I figured the death wouldn't take, but it was the principle of the thing," Yrael shrugs. "I felt better for it, at least. I had forgotten that Ramon Salazar also killed him."

Of course, Yrael once almost killed Ramon Salazar, also. There was no love lost between the Bright Shiner and the cartel leader.

'...so what you're saying is, the bar used to be a lot more fun.'

He's been coming for what feels like ages now, and not a single person has been murdered! It's unfair, really.