Logs:SFOH Halloween Party
Contents
The Partiers Arrive
Foldable tables bookend either end of colorful Clarion alley, which is alive with plenty of people! The atmosphere's fun, until you consider the tension between a couple of volunteers at the ticketing table. They seem to be working together like a couple with an unresolved dispute as they pass things to one another: making change, applying wrist-bands to those over 21, and so on.
Vinyl printed banners dress the tables to announce the event with a few young folks manning the entry and collecting cash for tickets: $20 in advance, $30 at the door. Pumpkins, garlands, and glitter in orange and black abound, as well as plenty of costumes that range from artful cosplay to creative last-second couture.
Two collapsable canvas tents host musicians on either end, just as last time. On the left DJ GUTFUCK is here, the German DJ whose Count Chocula costume is paired with his signature glitterbeard. His fluttering LED lights that bathe the already overwhelming gallery of graffiti in a shower of light. Big speakers, an electric keyboard and sound mixer. He plays a head-bobbin' bassline from his EDM setup. The bass is thicc and spread through a two-step pulse with flashy drum fills.
On the right Najibula War Rug has also made their return. They're the 4 person folk-punk band who look generally as if a handful of farm hands and hobos passed out in a tattoo shop in the middle of a pride parade, and Halloween is no exception: their costumes are slapped together bargain bin finds, like vinyl zombie masks and frayed, offensively bright acrylic wigs. They're doing a cover of Spooky Scary Skeletons, although with a tempo full of crystal meth.
Food vendors sell street tacos and hot dogs from open-air portable grills. A few of them have smoked the alley with dry ice fog in barrels of water. Amidst the grunge and the DIY, there is still plenty of space and time for gluten free and vegan options: corn tortillas, lettuce wraps and quinuoa-based taco filling alongside the staples of picadillo, chicken and pork.
Walter has garbed himself in black robes with a white priestly collar. To complete the look, he is wearing a giant plastic cross festooned with fake jewels around his neck, and he's wearing a nun's wimple on his head. He is toting a book, but it's not the bible. It appears to be a copy of something called 'The Tribulations of Athanasius.' So there you have it, a huge and creepy priest-thing. He greets, with his big grin, "Happy Halloween!"
Scarpia hasn't bothered with a costume. He's weird looking enough as is, maybe. He hasn't even bothered with shoes. He does have thirty bucks, though, and a big gold-checked grin for the quarreling volunteers as he gives it up.
Amongst the revelers near Najibula War Rug's scene _is_ a spooky scary skeleton. It's Corinna, though she's incognito: wearing a black nylon bodysuit with bones painted on it from head to toe. Over that, some red chucks and a patched-up denim vest that's had the hood and fabric from a hoodie sewn into the collar.
Coda looks like a man who remembered at the last damn minute that people wear costumes to Halloween parties. He's got on a pair of scarlet devil horns. They match his scarlet shirt. He's sort of...dressed the same as ever beyond that, in black slacks and black vest and so forth. If it *wasn't* last minute it was just a total failure of creativity. Either way, he pays his $30 and slips into the festival, smiling a little at the tense volunteers and quietly complimenting each of them in the hopes of making their day a little easier before he goes.
You know what's a cheap, quick costume? Vampire fangs. Khoi has turned to his collection of colored contact lenses to paint his irises a startling bone white, splurged on those fitted resin fangs, and given himself a pallor with his makeup, his lids darkened with black eyeliner with a sharp aesthetic somewhere between goth and glam. He's got on straight-up leather pants and a studded pyramid belt, doc martens, and over his white Sleeveless Domestic Abuse Garment, a biker jacket with Maila Nurmi's despairing, glamorous face on the back panel, labeled 'VAMPIRA'S GHOUL GANG'. He's hanging out with Corinna, watching the crowd and vaping.
Walter, having paid to get in with crumpled bills fished out of a pocket, rather than a wallet, ambles about. Spotting the cloud of vape-or he heads over to Corinna and Khoi in order to greet them with a grin, "Evening! Indulging in various vile sins worthy of the pyre, I see."
Scarpia gives a little jerky tic, his head to the left, and slinks in, winding through the crowd. He came for music, and it's the War Rug that seems to appeal.
Spooky Scary Skeletons is a bop, and it's also a wrap soon. War Rug's set ends for now with Dick Dembinski throwing that microphone down onto the pavement. This, of course, shatters an awful clatter through those speakers, and a few people cheer with beer lofted in hand while others cringe. A couple of Suburbanite moms who brought their small children stare indignantly at the NOISE.
Dembinski is dressed up in an ill-fitting grim reaper cape that hits his mid-calf like highwaters because he got the shit at Buffalo Exchange ten minutes before getting here. He flips up the equally cheap Scream mask he's been fogging up with all his singing, and sets down his guitar to break. He notices Corinna the Spooky Scary Skeleton, and she will recognize him as the guy had been wearing that 'NICE LEGS, WHAT TIME DO THEY OPEN' hat and tried to recruit her last time. He looks in Corinna, Khoi and Walter's general direction, attention grabbed as Walter rolls up. He is, after all, hella tall. "Hey yo, you two there! You guys wanna make a donation? Proceeds are going toward getting our drop-in crisis scenter."
As Coda slips in, the younger of the two volunteers -- a college aged blond lady dressed like a biergarten employee -- offers a half-smile that just isn't feeling it. "Have a great time," she says, like she's lost her tail on her birthday.
Alms For The Pyre!
Coda is after food next; though he seems to be keeping an eye on the crowd. He hasn't spotted Khoi and Corinna yet (or, by extension, Walter), though he does think he recognizes Scarpia and tips a hand up to him in casual greeting as he slips in line to grab a perfectly carnivorous street taco of some form.
Scarpia catches Coda's look and lifts his bony hand in reply. "Ello, Messere," he calls, not terribly loud, though enough to carry over the general din. "Y'are still about."
Walter grins predatorially at Dembinski, "Why, as a man of the cloth, it is you who should be donating to me! Proceeds go towards burning all you heretics alive in a vast conflagration! Once the Children of Athanasius get done killing everyone and overthrowing the government, you won't need any crisis centers!"
Coda ends up in line about three people down from a vaguely familiar set of long, neat ghana braids and a stature he recognizes. When she turns her head to look at the selection of various halloween punch choices, he recognizes her as the Angry Lady.
Standing in line with Naruto, a female Beetlejuice, and someone who just took the occasion to wear all their (mildly alarming) fetish gear topped off with a tail butt-plug concealed underneath a tutu are three men in black suits and aviators. They seem relaxed, grinning, talking amongst each other about whatever as they wait in the ticket line.
Dembinski sort of just stares at Walter for a moment. He seems a little high, and he huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "Man, I haven't seen that movie, what is that from? Costume looks rad, though."
Corinna is hopping in place with the rhythm until the music stops, one skelly-gloved hand up and displaying The Horns. When Dick D. stops playing and addresses she, Khoi, and Walter, she heckles him, cupping her mouth and shouting: "Donate your _Dick_!" Maybe she's drunk or something, idk. Anyway, her voice carries out from behind unmoving white skull-shaped paint.
Walter laughs, loudly. His voice booms out, "You'll know us by our works! Just watch them on the television as the body count rises along with the incense of sin put to the torch!" He grins down at the guy busking for donation, "It'll smell kind of like roast pig."
"I do," Coda says to Scarpia with some humor. "Good to see that you are, as well." There's conversation swirling all around, he's not catching all of it. "Can I buy you a taco, since I'm already in line?" He also gives a tip of his head to the Angry Lady; she was having a bad day that day, no reason to snub her. He's recognized her, he must say hello, that's how it works. He smiles at her, even...until one of the faces in line catches his attention. Something in his body language goes wary, but he doesn't make a big deal out of what he sees. Not yet, anyway. He just pulls out his phone and sends a quick text.
Scarpia winks at Coda, shakes his head. "Nobody ees believe me," he says, "But zhey are feeding me. Zhank you, zhough." He glances around, asking, "Where ees ozher fellow?" before he pauses, looking at the ticket line. His expression is a little... tired, somehow, by what he sees there. He adds, to Coda, "Scotch?"
"I'll donate this dick right into your mouth, show me what it do," Dembinski retorts, as he flips over his Scream Mask to use as a collection plate. A grin shot to Walter, and he seems to just roll with his gig in improv. "Alms for the CHILDREN! Alms for the poor! Please donate to SFOH, in our crusade to burn the heretics! Seventy five percent of all proceeds go to the creation of a crisis drop-in center for the homeless and food-insecure! The other twenty five to--" He glances to Walter for a quick 'what was that again, my man', and then gets his line, belting it aloud with marijuana inspired amusement: "--Putting sin to the torch!!"
Khoi watches on with a tense smile of someone who has -no- idea what's going on. He puts up his vape, finds his wallet, and donates his $20 to the cause of burning all the heretics??? I guess?? "Here you go, man."
Then, as he puts up his wallet, he trades it out for his phone, and he frowns, his forehead creasing a touch at what he reads. He puts up his phone and takes a quick look around the crowd with a dart of his eyes, and when he looks off ot the ticket line, he double-blinks.
Then he proceeds to staple on a smile, reaching out to tap Corinna on the shoulder for her attention. When he sees Scarpia, he keeps that smile on, although it seems a tenser shade of its former self now, a tiny short-lived spark of anxiety.
Walter collects the money. He's sure faster than Dembinski is when there is money on offer, that's for sure. He informs Khoi, "Congratulations! We'll burn you a day later than we otherwise would, you filthy heretic!" He tucks that money away in his priestly robes.
"Bro--" Khoi confronts Walter with a glare. "What the fuck, are you actually with him? That's for them."
"Yeah you will. Dick Dembinski, everybody," comes Corinna's distinctive voice, good-natured from under her skeleton mask. She long-arm points at Najibula's front-man.
She throws like $5, procured from her jacket pocket, into Dembinski's halloween mask, and asides to Walter: "Because it's mostly cops, right?"
Then Khoi's tapping her and directing her attention, and as she's panning her skeleton face through the crowd, her animation sort of stops as she gazes off at someone that-a-way for a few seconds. It's those Agent Smith types in the line. That or the fetish-geared one.
It's only for a moment; she knows not to stare.
Dembinski does see the yoinkage. He gives Walter a questioning look of tested patience as meanwhile in the background DJ Gutfuck takes advantage of Najibula's set break to announce the start of the costume contest. He's not really down to clown with a dude who hulks so huge, and there are plenty of other donors to collect from, so he decides to leave it at, "Dude, that's fucking bullshit." He turns to go run his spiel with other party-goers instead, intent on passing the collection mask around over *there* where Walter isn't.
As Coda makes eye contact with the No Longer Angry Lady, Madame BadDay, she pauses. She recognizes Hank Hill and brightens up in a warm and open smile. "Well hey there!" She has put on a 1950s poodle skirt sort of ensemble and done up her front few braids to emulate victory curls in a creative style. "How are you?"
Meanwhile, the FinTech trio talk to Tutu Satan and his devil tail buttplug and get near the line. The guy with freckles among them turns to purchase a trio of tickets from the sour-grapes ticketers.
"He had to work today," Coda explains to Scarpia, with a quick smile. "But he'd be pleased you asked after him."
He pays for a taco for himself when he gets up to the window, and a drink. He should probably get a few bites in if some bullshit is going to hit the fan.
He checks his phone and quick texts, then smiles back at the lady. "I am well, thank you. Are you enjoying yourself today? It is quite the party."
Walter grins at the consternated donator, and exclaims, "Yes, a donation to the Children. Gasoline and shotguns are expensive, after all!" To Corinna, he replies, "No, that's just what people smell like when you set them on fire. And how else will we destroy the Kingdom of Witches if not by fire?" Obviously. He holds out the book to her, "Read up on it."
Scarpia smiles vaguely at Coda, shrugs, sips from his paper-bag-wrapped bottle and secrets it away in his shabby coat again. He looks about vacantly, then winds his way closer to the stage.
Dembinski might be too world-weary to pick a fight with Walter, but Khoi (at 5'10" and all of what, maybe 160 pounds?) has not apparently lost enough teeth to the teachings of life and its unfairness. As he sees Scarpia start to wander off, he raises his voice to try to get his attention. "Hey! Jack! Walter took my damn money!" He glares up at Walter now. "Give that back, dude, it wasn't FOR you!"
Scarpia turns his attention to Khoi, perhaps at the sound of his name. He smiles halfway as he slinks over there, looking at Walter and saying, "What, you are play weeth me leel friends?" and then, "How much?"
Volunteers Quarrel
DJ Gutfuck, a middle-aged White guy dressed like count chocula (and he went all out with it, too, shaped hair and everything) with a glitter-beard, makes his announcement, with his ambiguously authentic German accent. "Guys, gals, and mein gender nonconforming pals! Last chance to enter ze costume contest! Five dollars a ticket! First prize is a quarter of all proceeds to the event!"
A gallery of contestants walk the stage. That is, Najibula War Rug's tiny stage of foam puzzle square mats, the sort for day cares, gyms and yoga studios. The crowd goes wild for someone's Patrick Star The Pole Dancer costume: the one with thigh-high stripper stilettos and the fishnets. There's someone dressed up like a tube of Crest toothpaste and someone who can only be accurately described as Boximus Prime.
As it happens, two things go on:
One, two stoutly built men wearing CAMP shirts approach the scene with Walter, Scarpia, Khoi and Corinna. They have their eyes on Walter, and have apparently come to dismiss him. "Sir, this is a charity event. What are you doing? We're going to have to ask you to leave."
Two, the Fintechs In Black. They have paid their ticket price, and they get up on that costume stage as a trio together to do some posing, get some clapping from the crowd. Down off at the mouth of the alley, an argument between the two ticketers is breaking out, and it's turning some heads. "I did NOT, what the hell arey ou talking about! Dude, shut up and just do your JOB, I'm doing MINE."
Well, shit. Here we go. Coda slips back towards the ticket counter, apparently intent on trying to calm this down before they get out of control. And wincing. If he starts busting out the magick now, with those technos here, that's going to be trouble. He's just going to have to rely on good old fashioned persuasion. "I couldn't help overhearing...is everything okay?" As if anybody could help overhearing.
Corinna jerks out of her distracted reverie when Walter replies that it's not about killing cops and pushes his book at her, twisting her head to him. The skeletal face goes down then up. "Nah," she replies, after a time. "You're pretty flammable yourself, y'know." When the security-cops show up, she slithers out back into the crowd. They can have their business with Walter without her.
Once in the crowd, she takes a meandering route, but ever closer toward those Fintech bros.
Coda is greeted with a hostile glare of 'stay out of my business' from the portly guy who's dressed up in a yukata. His earlier investment of a compliment gets him more mileage from Biergarten Lady, but she tries to shoo him away. "Yes, yes, it's fine, thank you -- go have some fun!" She looks to her partner like she could strangle him. "Dude, this is NOT a time to fight over this." "You're STEALING TIPS," Yukata shoots back. "This is exactly what I said was going to happen!"
The alley is big enough for this spectacle to really only effect one extreme end of it: DJ Gutfuck's halloween playlist, which is currently playign Bad Moon Rising, is drowning out what booze and tacos don't. A few people are watching, and the lady who just wants to buy her ticket just stands by awkwardly with her cash.
Khoi slinks a step off to one side. He's put himself bodily so that Jack is actually between himself and the stage the MIB are on as Corinna heads towards it, whether or not a purposeful decision. "It's twenty," he tells Jack, and while he gives the stage a glance, he seems pre-occupied with the principle he's asserting here.
Walter calls after Corinna as she walks away, "Next time it won't be free, idiot!" He laughs at the two quote unquote security guards trying to escort him out, but he grins at them and says, "Yeah, sure. It smells like the inside of a bank vault in here anyway." He starts to head towards the exit. He shouts, as he's leaving, still in character, "All your dirty money will burn along with your sins!"
Scarpia gives Walter an eyebrow-tilted look, hard to tell if he's amused or annoyed or neither. Not a strong feeling either way. He says, "Ees probably better to fuck off weeth heem anyway, ees maybe no the worst guest tonight, eh?" He reaches into his coat's inner pockets again, comes up with a modest wad of bills folded together, extracts a couple of tens from it.
As Walter starts to laugh, neither of the two security guards who have steeled themselves to face the gigantic man and his unnerving aura really bother to confront him on his attitude. That said, they aren't meek: just reluctant to escalate. "Please leave. If you do not leave, then we'll have to get SFPD to escort you." They tail after him. The fight that is breaking out does get both of their attention, but one thing at a time...
"Sure, sure, sorry," Coda says, frowning as he decides that's not going to help. Instead he leans against the wall, takes out a pad and a piece of paper, and just starts quietly...what? Jotting down notes to himself? Doodling? Who knows, but he seems to be ignoring everything. His food just gets set down somewhere. At least he got a couple bites.
As the punk skeleton stalks through the crowd, she unclips a safety pin from her denim jacket and palming it. She's not paying _too_ much attention to the squabbling between the two ticketmasters, figuring it for a distraction. She keeps a bunch of the crowd between her and the Fintechs, but makes sure she can keep their location in her head, checking every couple of seconds.
Liliana arrives ready for a party! She hadn't really gone all out for a costume, likely something she bought at a CVS on her way over here. She's got on black, twisted horns that are about 8 inches long each and her makeup has been done in deep green, blue and purple with her lips painted black. She steps up to get her ticket but pauses at the fight going on humming " why can't we be friends' to herself.
Walter, cheerfully shouting about how the Children of Athanasius will burn all the heretics and witches to death, ambles out with the security rentacops. He says, "All your money-grubbers and dopers will burn, too! The flames will reach the sky!" He gestures with his book, plastic cross dangling and nun's wimple moving really giving it his best.
There's not a lot to see from Coda's neck of the woods, to be sure. The man seems to have become fascinated by whatever he's writing. Maybe he's some sort of reporter or something, reporting on the party? Or he just had a pressing need to make a to-do list. Either way he's out of the way and unobtrusive, devil horns bent to his task.
Scarpia suffers some distraction as he's attempting to hand twenty bucks to Khoi. He looks around, straightening a little to add a centimeter to his meager height. Not much, he's got good posture. He lifts his face to the light-polluted sky and shouts, clear and loudly and carrying, but in French, "Non! ? A la lanterne!"
Liliana just makes her way into the party. If she gets to sneak past the ticket takers then so be it she won't let their bickering keep her from fun! She doesn't seem to move too far from them though, their argument capturing her attention for the time being.
Khoi watches Walter go off and with Scarpia's words in consideration he decides not to chase the guy down over 20 dollars. When Scarpia offers that money he shakes his head and denies it with a hand. "No, man, it was the principle of ..." Khoi's eyes swing Coda's way, then to the stage, momentarily distracted, before he looks back at Scarpia. That brief interruption of his attention was almost as if he heard a sound he couldn't quite place. The 'a la lanterne' gives him pause.
"I talk to heem later about principle maybe," says Scarpia, distractedly, grimacing as if he tastes something bitter. He speaks more softly to add, "What zhe hell ees thees?"
The 'MIB' Notice Coda
The MIB surrender the stage to the next contestants, some DIY jedi who get cheers from the crowd with a few seconds of wailing on each other with their plastic light sabers. Buttplug satan gets some shouts of shock and appreciation, as some woman who clearly doesn't understand where she is cups her hand over her kids' eyes and hauls her precious daughter off to go find who she can yell at about this.
The MIB mingle in the crowd! Vegan quinoa mushroom street tacos? Don't mind if I do, bruh. The freckled "agent" who was singing omens to the crowd is now enjoying some Mission food fare amidst a backdrop of Michael Jackson.
~Under the moonlight You see a sight that almost stops your heart You try to scream But terror takes the sound before you make it~
And as Michael Jackson's thriller grooves on, so do the fintech trio. Havin' a nice time, talking to people, making donations.
"Come on! Come on -- why the hell would I steal tips here? If I was going to do that --" Biergarten lady huffs a sigh and then she drops into her seat as she tries to cede somehow. "Look, we're under-staffed and if we argue then people are going to sneak in." Like Liliana, who snuck in. "Let's just get along, and afterward we can talk to Ryan, you can watch me count the drawer, and eerything. Alright?"
Behind those mirror shades, the freckled man's face that some here find all too familiar turns, regarding Coda. He lowers his head, eyebrows climbing up behind those shades as he looks right at him with those ice blue eyes, a smug and questioning grin confronting him.
~You start to freeze As horror looks you right between the eyes, You're paralyyysed...~
Khoi leans into Scarpia, and his lips part. For Liliana's benefit - Khoi is dressed up like a biker vampire. He's got his motorcycle gear on and a glam goth look going on with some vampire fangs and pale makeup.
And it seems like the cat's got his tongue. "Uh, it's -- something exploratory, I think, I don't know what to tell you, but I'd head out if I were you," he admits, his voice low, buried under the music. "Shit might go down."
From within the crowd, Corinna the Skeleton watches one of the FintechBros staring at Coda. Her hand squeezes hard -- onto the safety pin she's holding, and she makes a slow but violent gesture, as if forcing a stuck prybar to open a door. She keeps the crowd between her and them while she does it, but if anyone is carefully studying her at that moment they might take notice.
Coda actually gasps at...something. He winces and turns his head a little bit, shaking like he's trying to shake off some sensation he does not like and does not want. He grits his teeth and sucks in a deep breath. And then...that techno is staring straight at him with that smug grin. That makes his hackles rise, but he gives the man a charming smile of his own. It's 100% a 'c'mon, you can't blame a guy for trying right?' smile, and if his expressive face fails to conceal a twitch of real nervousness. He gently taps his pencil on his pad. It's patterned, that tapping.
Scarpia pulls a face, that disgusted cat look he does, and says, "Pfaaah! Ees aready, I am theenk." He doesn't really give the impression of studying anything, but he watches the man approach Coda in brief glances. His eyes narrow at the wince and he turns that direction.
Walter exclaims merrily, presumably still being escorted out since no actual explosions have happened, "The Children are everywhere! And they're coming for you! Yes, you!" He laughs, gesturing upwards, "Flames touching the sky!" he reiterates. Really, he could have a second career as a fire-and-brimstone preacher.
Liliana has no idea anything may or may not be going on. She hears Thriller though and she lets out a cheer! She moves more into the party though, looking at the faces and costumes there. She does a little dance as she walks, come on who can stand still when listening to good ol' MJ!? Not this gal that's for sure.
As Corinna the Skeleton curls her fingers hatefully around a pocket of air, the Technocrat is staring down Coda and meeting that smile.
~Cause this is Thrillerrrr!! Thriler Night!!~ The suit's eyes bulge wide. In a violent spasm of motion, his burrito is shoved straight into his mouth by the spontaneous momentum of his hand cramming into his own face. He doubles over, and his two partners whip around as he starts choking on burrito.
Coda takes a deep breath. Breaking his gaze with the technocrat to sweep his gaze across the area.
His eyes narrow. His jaw firms with determination.
He flips the page on his notebook.
And he starts another furious round of writing.
Oh, shit. Khoi's head snaps up and his eyes are on the three MIB. A momentary sense of panic flits across his face, before he reaches out himself, his hand shooting out to grab -- seemingly nobody? Maybe this is a wild dance. I mean, Thriller's playing, and he darts a step aside in the crowd. He's sure to get stares but between someone choking on burrito and the loud music with all the people he's just going to go for... Whatever the hell he's doing.
Scarpia knows 'Thriller'. He even knows the dance that goes with it, and he starts to perform it, not especially well but perfectly recognizably, joining in to sing along and coincidentally head Coda's way. Quite rapidly, for a dancing zombie sort. He takes out his paper-clad liquor bottle as he moves.
Liliana had been looking over the crowd and hey! Look it's Devil Coda! She heads in his direction and is dancing happily and just when she gets close she calls out "Hey you. Diggin the horns. Matches your charming personality." She looks to the man who was eyeing Coda and she flashes him a bright smile and says "Cool costume bro. Loved you in that movie." even if he's not dressed in anything special.
Coda gives Lily a tight smile, but he keeps right on running this complicated series of equations that he's writing out in furious fashion. He apparently trusts his allies to defend him, her included, and trusts her to tell there's trouble without being told, because the math mage doesn't even look up. He's *aware* that he's making himself into a target, he just doesn't *care*. What he's doing is too important to stop, and all he can hope is that it's enough and that is trust is well-placed.
Walter is more or less out of the event, but he says to the rentacops, "Hah, looks like everybody's tryna kill each other over there. That's what you get for being distracted by boring bullshit!" He laughs at them some more, and finds himself a nice place to watch the rumble breaking out.
Scarpia manages to creep-dance and shimmy sideways right into the Men In Black, laughing. He got a lot drunker on the trip over from by the stage, but a vigorous movement will do that, right? He gets shoved, and splashes whiskey on or at least about his 'assailant' as it happens, singing out: "They will possess you! Unless you change that number on your dial!" He recovers his footing, sort of, and weaves back where he was pushed from, waving his bottle at the dapper men and making little jerky movements as if inviting them to dance.
Corinna's squozen hand presses into its opposite as she stalks through the crowd, that skullen face watching. Her emotions and intentions difficult to tell behind the face-tight mask and the modsuit.
Coda shuts out the world like the most jaded of BART commuters on their phone while a fight breaks out on the train. Beside him, Craig anticipates Scarpia's dancing and runs some interference, but Scarpia's wild flailing provides some odd melee distraction (We will represent this as partial cover since everybody's watching Jack bust a move, he's essentially made the situation 'firing into a melee'). Meanwhile, Evan whips out some sort of inhaler and immediately gulps the PocketDoc down as he stumbles with intent toward Coda. Between Scarpia's footwork and Liliana's initiative, his footing is knocked off-kilter. Khoi shoves -- nothing, and the final "agent" whips out a Nexus phone to snag a photo of Coda.
The third man in shades bounds closer, closing in, against the distractions that Scarpia and Liliana are creating. "HASTY!" he yells, and he smacks at Coda's hand, but is shouldered out of the way.
Anyone who looked too closely at Coda would see a line of sweat forming at his temple. Probably not that much to look at in this chaos. He hasn't noticed the attempt to take pictures of him, but he's damn sure well aware that he's basically drawn the attention of people whom he never wanted to draw the attention of. He's silently grateful for everyone watching his back, but he can't express it. He's all concentration as he mathematically describes the effect he's picked up on and then equations it back down to zero with function after function.
Khoi, meanwhile, decides to cut through the crowd and get closer, adding to the gallery and apparently Coda's backup. He ends up by Liliana, ready to throw down in person this time. "Get the hell out of here," he yells, locking eyes with wee Craiggles. "How long are we going to keep coming, huh? You're -- " FLASH! Khoi throws up an arm in reaction to the photo, but keeps yelling: "--off your GAME!"
The third man in shades bounds closer, closing in, against the distractions that Scarpia and Liliana are creating. "HASTY!" he yells, and he smacks at Coda's hand, but is shouldered out of the way.
The true culprit of all this choking, however, meanwhile has at it, and even despite that inhaler that Evan had sucked down he coughs and blanches in the split second of chaos before he makes his move.
A flash erupts from the phone held by the second man in shades, and Scarpia is either just a split second later or right on time -- hard to tell. People are starting to look and gawk and someone else is getting out their phone. That flash rings out!
Khoi is very momentarily thrown off by the flash but he yells his piece, as Liliana shoves Evan out of the way with one purposeful, dedicated move. %And that's when Evan and his flailing hand drops the inhaler, gasping, clutching at his throat. He falls, and as he falls to the pavement, someone calls "Woah! Somene get an EMT!"
Scarpia gives a jump as the flash goes off, but still tries to reach for the guy's phone, laughing and shouting a series of obscenities in French, his tone merry, though it's the kind of good cheer that makes bouncers grit their teeth, the kind that might mean a merry punch in somebody's teeth might be coming along pretty soon. Also, he uses both hands to attempt to claim the phone, but still has that whiskey bottle in one. He is, of course, not /deliberately/ wasting spirits by sloshing them at a phone, not at all.
Walter eyes the cross street of the alley, seeing who might be coming down, only keeping half an eye on the scuffle. Especially since the rentacops are no longer pestering him about some theft that they are falsely accusing him of. As if he would ever do something like that.
And anyone who looks very closely at the Skeleton in the crowd might see a slow dribble of blood dripping in a slow rhythm from her right hand, sieved out of the black cloth of her glove and onto the grease-and-gross-caked alley pavement. As Evan falls to the pavement without the facility of his lungs, she puts up her hood and walks deeper into the crowd, away from the _i n c i d e n t_.
The Visitors Back Out
Liliana watches Evan go down and she nods her head. She keeps her guarded stance before Coda but she looks at Khoi and says "well hi." But then she acts right along with the others "oh my gosh, this poor guy! Someone get him out towards the streets so he can get some fresh air! " She'll scoop down and try to pick up the inhaler.
Coda lets out a gentle sigh as he wipes his brow, and he flips his notebook shut and tucks it away. Then he blinks owlishly as someone calls for 9-1-1 and some guy falls choking to death. He puts the notebook away and murmurs, "Thank you," to Khoi and Liliana, even as he tries to sort of...re-orient. As hard as he'd been concentrating he just isn't sure what else he's looking at, other than Jack being...actually quite the thorn in the side of some technocrats, well done, Jack. "Shit!" The man who had tried to take the picture darts down to pull up his fallen comrade. Now, the crowd starts to gather and swell on the spectacle, and someone with the event staff muscles on through. People on phones, both to record the fun and probably to get an EMT on the scene, abound.
As Liliana moves to scoop up that inhaler, naturally the guy collecting the passed-out dude reaches out to yoink it from her. "Thanks!"
Scarpia switches from French obscenities to singing, or maybe it's chanting, the peculiar German lyrics of Einst?rzende Neubauten, 'Thriller' now forgotten, while the urge to throw things and bop about is fully ripe.
Liliana flashes a smile to the man collecting Choky Mcgee as he snatches the inhaler from her and she says "You betcha. Good luck now." She waves her fingers at him but then turns to look more fully at Khoi and Coda now, her brow arching and the look on her face clearly saying she wants to know what that was about!
Khoi doesn't notice the thanks just yet, staring down the last of the trio with an intensity like he's drinking in every little inch of what threads make him. "Need help taking your friend to the hospital? I'll get you an Uber." The tense exchange in the crowd is buried by the chaos, the costume party brought to a screeching halt, and some medical team trying to assess the fallen man's situation. "Does your friend have allergies, medications?" "He'll be fine, if I just get him to the car," answers the faux-Agent, locking eyes with the staffer. "So go ahead and get back to the party, let us through." The man who really, really shouldn't be just letting some dude who had a medical attack go, ... Does just that, standing aside with a look of concern, compliant regardless. "Well okay, go on ahead, be safe now."
Scarpia tosses his now empty bottle, letting it tumble through the air and spatter a few more dribbles and splashes as it sails over the retreating suit-wearers on its way more-or-less to the bins. He chant-sings "Where are my shoes!?" in German, but pauses long enough to call in English, "You are shitty dancers!" as a parting comment.
"Tell you later," Coda tells Liliana in promise, "or Khoi can."
But he doesn't look good, and he sounds a little pained. He pushes his hand into his temple and sags a little, going a little pinched and pale. He digs into his pockets for a prescription bottle though; this doesn't look like something someone is doing to him given he's digging out a specific pill for it.
As the whole mess breaks up he just sort of sags back into the mural, sighing a little bit, popping the pill under his tongue.
Honestly, the human capacity for partying even alongside a medical emergency knows no end, so once the third MIB's ragdoll body is Weekend at Bernies'ed out with his left and right hand man, the music keeps going, and so does the food and festivities.
Khoi starts to relax a hair, and as Scarpia yells after the shitty dancers, he can't help but laugh. "Yeah man, they do suck at dancing."
He notices Coda, and while Coda digs around for a prescription bottle, Khoi digs around for his ever-present altoids tin. Whether or not he beats Coda to the act of procuring pills to pop, the guy is apparently just at the ready with a little ... Tin of skittles in there. The guy who says he's clean.
Liliana moves to sit down beside Coda but she still has her eyes roaming the area, protective. She is so threatening too! All 5ft and no muscles that she is..
Scarpia continues his German list of things found but just not my shoes, but drops the song as he slinks over to Khoi. "Silly buggers," he says.
Coda hesitates when he sees what Khoi's offering. There's a moment where he hesitates. Then a distinct look of 'eff it,' that proves maybe he's not, deep down, quite as square as he acts crosses over his face. He accepts one of the 'altoids' and tucks the rescue med bottle away. "My thanks," he murmurs, and pops it into his mouth.
"Jack, that was some fine dancing out there."
A brief, wan smile for Liliana as she goes all protective, and he murmurs, "Lily, you willing to drive me home?" Since he's now totally on something and he didn't even stop to verify what the hell he just got himself on.
Walter watches the guys in suits leave, laughing to himself all the while, "Well. That sure was a fuckin' thing." He grins widely, having been entertained by the spectacle, and from a safe distance, too.
Scarpia winks at Coda, says, "Zhank you. You are okay, si?" He looks at the man, his smile wide and gold-glinting, his eyes concerned.
"Yeah man, I got you fam," Khoi says, his voice a little distracted. "You got that look. Just don't start snorting it like I did." He snaps the tin shut, then looks to Liliana. He gives her a quick once-over, and grins at her costume, his fake vampire fangs showing. "Heyyy, nice threads, em."
Hearing Coda's question, his gaze lingers with a hint of a question on it. "It's just ..." Wait, what did Coda take? He looks at his tin to do a mental inventory and then -- he masks his concerned check by taking one of the pills, himself. Clasping the tin shut, he pockets it and looks out onto the crowd as DJ Gutfuck starts nominating costume contest winners. Once Coda's -not- looking his lips press together into an amused line, but only for a sneaky instant.
Liliana watches the exchange of meds and she leans in to see what the pill he is taking looks like. She nods her head to Coda and says "Ayep, You betcha. I'd be happy to."She gives him a very light nudge with her arm but then looks back up to Khoi.
Coda Does Not Read Drug Labels
"Just a migraine," Coda tells Jack with a quick smile. "I get them sometimes, it's no big deal."
He takes off his devil horns though, because nothing makes a migraine worse quite like a friggin' headband, and it's not like it was contributing to his overall panache anyway. He's not feeling the impact of the drugs yet at least, give him 20 minutes.
He owl blinks at Khoi about snorting it, but doesn't seem *that* worried about it, then nudges Lily back a little. "Thanks," he says.
"Yeah dude," one of the party goers says to Walter, turning to look at him, but their good mood withers at his wimple. And his overall -- scariness. This person who dressed up as a mouse nearly squeaks, edging away from the man. "Uh, -- nice costume!"
Walter grins, "Thanks. I'm one of the Children of Athanasius. We're everywhere, you know. All over the city, and we're coming to get you! Watch out!" He laughs, jovially, "It'll be like the old days!"
Scarpia grins still at Coda, says, "I am no more having any whiskey. But you are get somewhere quiet dark soon, eh? What zhe fuck ees zhe landlord wanting?"
Liliana looks at Coda with concern in her expression but she nods her head to him and says "Hey, I got your back, any time. I'll be your uber."She winks at him but then says "Um.. you just tell me when you wanna go before that stuff kicks in."
(In French) Khoi gives Scarpia a big ole smile, then as he slides down to sit with Liliana, nearing her and settling in close enough to confide some little thing in her. "Hey, so, I thought he'd take the aleve but he went for the sassafras." Not all of that is french - 'aleve' and 'sassafras' don't exactly have their very own special French words. He goes on: "Let me know where you two end up, huh? He's gonna need a trip advisor." That's another word he says in English. 'Trip advisor'.
Scarpia grins back at Khoi, turns with nice timing to whoop at some minor costume-contest event with the rest of the crowd. Then he laughs at the comments, says, "Batard chanceux."
Coda speaks Spanish, not French, but some words are pretty similar and what he hears widens his eyes. "Perhaps...now..." he suggests to Liliana, faintly.
"If you do not mind too terribly. Gentlemen, I am getting the distinct feeling that I have made a very bad decision that I should go and handle now..."
Color touches his cheeks, something rueful and really embarrassed crossing his features as he pushes off the wall.
(In French) Can't help but chuckle a little at the quietly spoken words of Khoi. She peeks over at poor Coda and then speaks quietly to Khoi as well saying "Well, he's going to be in for a bit of a surprise but don't you worry. I'm experienced. Besides, he's just going to get cuddly that's the lite version ya know?" She looks rather amused though. She stands up and steps up to Coda's side and says ' Nah, no bad decision here! lets get you home though.'.
(In French) Little Jack laughs and says, "If it wasn't for the headache, a good decision."
"You'll be feelin' good, homie," Khoi says, and although he doesn't laugh there's mischief dancing in his eyes and curling his smile. He glances Scarpia's way with amusement when he hears 'lucky bastard', then looks back at Coda. "You'll be fine. Just drink water, you know, uh, *call me* if you need anything, don't take any booze, and relax. It'll be great. And next time, ask me what --" Khoi's poker-face does suffer here, at Coda's expense. His voice sort of tenses with the effort of giving Coda some face, but: "--You know, you can always ask me what I have before you take it."
(In French) Jack adds, a moment later, "They could stand to get a better band, headaches in mind."
Walter loiters! He loiters so hard and long and um, outside the event. I suppose. But, hey, it is better than getting photographed by angry wizards, or something. Also, he doesn't speak french! So he starts to wander off.
This is where Coda just looks like he feels like nine kinds of idiot, but he gives a thumbs up and then follows Liliana. The last place he wants to be when this hits is in an alley that *already* looks like some kind of acid trip. At least he has a good...trip advisor...ahead of him!
Liliana just grins and takes Coda's arm and says "See you fellas later. This flight is departing." She winks to Khoi but then will lead Coda out of the alley and away from the party.
Scarpia laughs, lifts a hand in a little wave. "Good night, Lily-lily-lily, Messere," he says.
Khoi watches after the two, stifling a laugh. "Shit." He gets to his feet. "Man, I gotta go make sure he'll be alright, I kinda feel bad I gave him that," he admits to Scarpia, dusting off his pants, then looking to the dancing king. "I'll catch you soon?"
Scarpia looks at Khoi a bit flatly, nods, says, "Okay. He ees good fellow." He turns his attention to the stage.
