tampered | Log; open

Log; open

When; Saturday, August 12th
Rating; G-NC-17?
Characters; Open!
Summary; The Blue Light turns 1.
Log;

The Blue Light is decorated; it's got it's usual jazz style but tonight there's some more to it; curtains and tables all look a little bit dated, because they are. Where Blue and Promise found the furnishings for this particular party is something that both of them won't tell, but it looks terrific.

There are corners to hide in and corners to party in, and good music and good booze. It's a party!

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"It is saying quite a bit, isn't it?" Robin lowers one hand but examines the nails on the other casually for a moment, never ignoring a chance to slip in a self-compliment. Finally, he straightens up and shoots Blue a wink that is, for once, more friendly than salacious. Taking a step closer, he reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a small coinpurse, pressing it into Blue's own back pants pocket.

"That is to settle my tab, and maybe a little more. A one year anniversary is a good time to do an inventory and finance check, is it not?"

He folds his arms behind the small of his back and stares the other man up and down for a second, before speaking again.

"I hear you have been giving out dance lessons."

Blue snorts a little. "Sure," he says, and then his eyes widen just a touch when Robin's hand slides into his back pocket. When it slides back out he takes the tiniest of steps backward, not because he is offended, but merely startled.

"Thank you," he finally says, managing not to stammer about it. This is not the time to sound like an idiot, and Blue doesn't check the purse. He knows that if it's not the correct amount that Promise will know, but he suspects it is, if only because it seems like a gesture that the Puck would make.

"And yes, I have. It's better than fighting lessons," he explains.

The expression on Blue's face brings a chuckle out of Robin's lips, a bright noise on sweet, very drunk breath. He nods his head, usually curly but at the moment pulled into oiled waves to fit the costume theme, around the busy, noisy Blue Light.

"I would disagree. Fighting can be just as rewarding as dancing and in the same ways. But tell me, is it just Tony, or is it anyone else? For I want to test the work you have done."

Blue shakes his head, and ducks it a little. "No one else, right now. I taught Rosella and Neil and Todd, and a few others, how to swing dance, though."

He takes a moment, like a breath, and shrugs. "I fought for too long. I don't want to fight anymore. There's nothing that way for me, so I dance instead." He doesn't say it with any melancholy, but instead simply, and he looks up at Robin. "You know you can always come by and help Tony out. I know his b-" Blue pauses, "I'm sure he'd rather dance with someone taller, anyway."

"No one else right now. I guess that this means you do it because you enjoy it, and not for the extra money. Good for you or...something."

Robin laughs again, throwing his hands in the air and shrugging, but his face grows still and curious as Blue continues talking, and he mentally blocks out the noise and bustle around the two of them, taking the time to rake Blue's expression with intent green eyes.

"That's right, I had forgotten. You were a soldier for some time, were you not? I never was, not in my heart, although I spend plenty of time around handsome half-naked warrior types. Now what do you mean you know his what in the what what?"

Blue shakes his head. "Life is too," he pauses. The saying is short, but both of them know that particular idiom is untrue. "Let me start again. My time is too valuable for me to do something that I'm not interested in," he rephrases. "Well, maybe that's wrong too, but I mean that I really prefer to do things that I like, and I like to spend my time that way." Blue feels a little tongue-tied, but oh well.

"For a thousand years, and then some," Blue clarifies, but he quickly moves on from that topic. He really has no interest in explaining that particular chapter of his life, as long as it was. Instead he flattens his lips out a little. "Tony used to have a boyfriend. The last time he was here. Last time you were here, too, come to think of it, but anyway, I don't think he knows him yet. Or knows who he'll be."

Robin takes the time to fold his arms over his chest and the expensive suitcoat over it, expression softening into something close to fond amusement at the difficulty Blue is having with choosing words. He understands the sentiment, at least, he believes he does.

But the latter part of it catches his attention and focuses it back where it is naturally focused for a puck-- on himself.

"He has a boyfriend somewhere out there in nebulous timespace? I can only hope that he shows up so that every time I see him around I can remind myself that I was there first."

Blue rolls his eyes, but it's good-natured. "Well clearly. I'm sure he's your type, too. Tall, green eyes, nice dimples. Cute butt. Or something like that," Blue states, just a little droll, just to be contrary. Boy Blue is in a playful mood.

"Just don't tell Tony? I don't think that he'd believe it, anyway."

One hand reaches out to pat Blue heavily on the shoulder a few times, ending with a single swat. The playful mood is noticed, but Robin, drunk as he is, is in a talking mood.

"Kid, I don't have a type. I have opportunity costs. Your butt is not so bad itself, might I add."

He shrugs and stares around surreptitiously, with narrowed eyes but a smiling face.

"And believe me, telling him is not on my list of priorities tonight. First amongst them being avoiding Promise."

Blue manages not to pitch forward - Robin was no Bigby - and he looks up and raises an eyebrow. "So I've been told," he comments. His butt was an area of contention, it seemed. There was even a picture of it on the Network somewhere, in full moon glory.

Blue pointed to where the vampire was holding her own kind of court - the kind that makes sure that everything is going according to plan. "She's over there, if you want to know. At least for now."

"Then I am staying over here," he says quickly, mutters more like, before moving to put Blue bodily in between himself and said vampire, despite the fact that she is half a club away. Robin called her a bitch the other day. He isn't taking a chance to start an argument with her again on Blue's big day.

"And I would ask you to prove it to me but I am freshly taken by an individual who is extremely prone to jealousy. I shall just content myself with admiring how neatly you fit into the surroundings. You have been busy lately, and I have been-- well what I mean to say is that it is good to talk to you again."

Blue doesn't ask, it's not worth the time, energy or curiosity to wonder why Robin was afraid of Promise - not that Blue feels that Robin shouldn't be afraid of Promise. Instead he simply tips his head a little, and remembers what it's like to deal with Prince Charming.

No. No. Prince Charming is far more irritating.

"Finally got together with Ishiah, huh?"

This gets an offended snort from Robin, who knits his brows together and presses a hand to his chest in the international signal for clutched pearls.

"What do you mean finally?"

Blue just shrugs his shoulders a little, as if to signal that he doesn't know, but in fact, he does. He played too many sad love songs back when he worked at Lux, over a year ago, to not have known.

"I mean finally."

Robin takes a deep breath and lets it out in a suffering-sounding sigh. He is just about tired of this 'finally' bullcaca, from Blue and from Holly and from others who he is familiar with, that have been in the city for some time now.

For an immortal know-it-all who has a habit of being on the beating vein of gossip, it is always disgruntling to hear people talking about one's hookup like it is old news.

"I need another drink. And you owe me a dance at some point this night, because I say so. Provided that I can still dance at the end of it. Either way, you will have shown me a good time."

Blue decides not to torment him any longer, and nods amicably at the demand. "Just signal me over, and I'll dance with you, Robin."

Blue raises himself up on his tiptoes, ruffles Robin's hair (okay, maybe he needs to torment him just a little bit more) and smiles. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Always a good sport. How ironically All-American of you."

One hand moves to swat at Blue's as he moves to mess the puck's carefully wavy hair, but he misses, a clear sign of how drunk he is. Snickering at his own lack of coordination, he waves Blue off to do whatever it is that Blues need to do.

"Take your time. You do what you want, right?"

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Log; open

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Open; stop it lj

Open; jesus that's annoying

Open; i know right

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