[OPEN LOG] A LITTLE PARTY NEVER KILLED NOBODY

[makingastatement]

When; July 4th after this
Rating; Links are NSFW due to language and sexy hooker flashmobs. Other than language, situations shouldn't get above PG-13.
Characters; It's a party-- come one, come all!
Summary; Surprise birthday party for Meyer Lansky. Everyone is welcome!
Log;

Lucky's casino is busy as usual on Thursday, but those inside will notice that the stage normally reserved for entertainment is shrouded in a large curtain. The owner is seated, prepared to listen to the audition of a buxom blond who seems shy and has no real command over the stage. After a deep breath, she begins to sing in a voice barely above a whisper:

"Happy birthday to you~"

Before she can really get into the meat of the song, the curtain rises to reveal an unusual spectacle. Women of all sizes and shapes dressed comfortably in next to nothing. Those inside the casino can see them make a musical entrance. They seem to dote especially on the owner, who appears to be hoisted in his seat by two beefy men in shiny speedos. They carry him closer to what appears to be a cake.

It's not.

The exterior slips away revealing a mounted pole and another woman who has no problem steadying her stilettos on the arms of the chair the owner is being held captive in from time to time.

Looks like it's SOMEONE'S BIRTHDAY

All varieties of business continue as usual after the reveal. The women and men will flirt with anyone who has the means to earn their attention. There's even a new racehorse to the circuit being promoted out back! Come evening, patriotic Americans launch fireworks into the night sky. So come! There's good company, gambling, drinks and dancing-- eat, drink and be merry in honor of the holiday and Meyer Lansky's birthday!

Comments

[hischair]

He really is going to turn down that drink. Really. But it's a near-to impossible feat when not wanting to make a fuss in front of the man he's ventured into the lion's den to see, let alone meet. Hell, if it disagrees with him later he'll just throw that up too, it's not like his insides can stay raw from the irradiation forever, right? Right.

"Scotch, if you're buying." Thank heaven for Scotty taking it upon himself to build up Jim's tolerance to it. He clocks the face of the aforementioned employees, turning back to Lansky. "Happy Birthday, before I forget. So, you own this place? It's impressive — underneath the feathers and heels, I mean."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

He's not just buying; he's going behind the bar to pour Jim the drink himself. It keeps his hands busy, at least, and he'd rather be drinking than puzzling over exactly what's going on here. Surely a birthday isn't worth all of this glitter and feathers and the remarkable lack of clothing. In his suit and tie, he feels strangely overdressed.

"Yeah, I own the place. I figured I should do something with myself while we're stuck here, and people seem to like it."

He pushes the drink across the bar, and then pours himself one. So maybe he's drinking a little quickly. Who can blame him? It's his birthday, after all.

[hischair]

"People keep mentioning they've settled in. Doesn't anybody ever try and escape?"

Taking a seat at the bar, Jim sips his drink slowly and gauges whether he's alright to keep it. For the time being, it seems, he's on good terms with his stomach.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"Sure, but they don't get far. Didn't get far. There's been some... change in management lately. The new guys promise they're gonna get us out of here. I'll believe it when I see it."

He practically drains his drink in one gulp, and then goes back to top it off. Hey, it's his liquor, he can use it however he wants to. And however he wants to seems to involve getting extremely drunk as quickly as he possibly can.

[hischair]

"Heard about that, too. Anonymous organization? Sounds like more trouble than deluded aliens believing they're actually gods, if you ask me."

Jim drinks only a little while Lansky tops his own glass up. Far be it from him to stop the guy, he offers the edge of his to clink in celebration.

"You'd think they'd come to a place like this to relax after taking the reins."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"I'm not exactly sure what their intentions are, but I doubt they involve my casino, or any kind of entertainment."

He clinks his glass against Jim's, realizing how much he's already consumed in a short amount of time, and forcibly restrains himself from topping up his glass again. He hasn't had much to eat today, and he's already confused enough without adding stumbling drunkenness to the list.

"So. Where're you from?"

He's always curious about the new arrivals.

[hischair]

"If they're anonymous, I'd say nothing's off the cards. We don't know who they are."

It would be a great strategy, he thinks, remaining faceless and able to walk around in public without fear of being caught. Jim shrugs at the question and offers a nostalgic smile as he momentarily omits Iowa from memory, considering it'll be less than useless in conversation here. His placement at the Academy proves easier to draw on.

"San Francisco. I went to clubs in my spare time, this isn't so far off the mark where we used to go when we weren't studying. How about you?"

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"New York City."

And he has the distinctive accent to match, an accent that's as much the product of his time period as his place of residence -- it's strange, sometimes, how old-fashioned people seem to think he sounds. To him, his accent is unremarkable, if immediately noticeable.

He decides to elaborate, since they're talking about themselves, and there's no harm in getting to know potential customers. "I run a card game back home, too. It's a little more low key than this one, at least tonight, but it's familiar territory."

[hischair]

When you've spoken to aliens that mostly gargle their words around a strong Southern accent, there's not a lot that puts you off normal people. Lansky makes for a curious point of interest.

"God, I don't think I've played in a real game of cards in ... two years. Maybe three? Let's go with three, been kind of busy." He lets a hot flare of scotch paint around his palate after a thoughtful sip, hunching forward as he gets comfortable. "You wouldn't like my friend Scotty, he'd probably clean both of us out in record time."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

He lights himself a cigarette, offering Jim one courteously. He's almost never seen without a cigarette, especially in high stress moments; he can't decide whether this whole party thing qualifies as a high stress moment, a strange amusement, or both, so a cigarette seems like the appropriate response.

"You should come by and play sometime."

There's a slight smile at Jim's mention of his friend. Meyer isn't the kind of guy to brag about his own card playing skills, but he knows him own talents well enough, and he knows that he rarely loses. "I might like him -- I always welcome a challenge."

That's as close as he'll get to admitting he's very good at poker.

[hischair]

A flicker of surprise crosses his face to see the cigarette, declining politely. If Bones isn't already going to kill him, the looming threat of Jim's doctor finding out he's been smoking just might push him over the edge.

"I actually might. If he were here I'd extend the invite, but ..." He isn't apparently, and Jim doesn't want to offer up his other friends' names on a silver platter. "Y'know, I think your buddies set tonight up more for their enjoyment than their own. Just a feeling."

Blue eyes dance with mirth over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip.

"You guys been here long?"

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"You wouldn't be wrong about that. They've been looking for an excuse to do this kind of thing, I think. My birthday made a good one. Y'know, their thought process was something along the lines of, Happy twenty-second birthday, boss -- here're a bunch of naked women."

Not that he necessarily opposes the women (and he's exaggerating when he calls them 'naked,' although most of them aren't wearing much,) but he's well aware that Al and Theo had set this up either for their own purposes or for the sake of seeing his reaction. Or both.

"I've been here nearly seven months. My coworker Al's been here about the same."

[hischair]

"You're twenty-two? I feel so old," he murmurs with a shake of his head. "Twenty-six over here. If my friends threw me a party like this, I'd be up there with the girls right now."

There's something pure and immortally amusing when he imagines Spock hiring exotic dancers. The laughter dies down when he hears seven months.

"That's a hell of a record. If you ever find out who's holding us prisoner, let me know and I'll help you end them."

After the diplomacy went south, anyway, because like fuck is he going to let anyone hold him and his people captive for that long. Every inch of him bridles against the thought, though the reaction translates as an exasperated sigh.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"If it helps, I feel a hell of a lot older."

He's never felt his age. Even as a kid, he'd been too serious, too contemplative, too analytical. At twenty-two, he figures he might as well be forty; he certainly doesn't enjoy the things the average guy his age does.

He shrugs, taking another swig of his drink. "Seven months isn't long compared to some people. I know some people who've been here a couple years."

It isn't intended, necessarily, to make Jim feel worse about the whole thing, but it's true -- he still feels very new here, at times.

[hischair]

"A girl I met said she's been here four years, that's just ... wrong."

It's not that he's idealistic, only that he can't really see himself settling anywhere that isn't his ship. It staggers him that he might still be here in a few days, let alone a week. Months? Forget it.

Shaking his head, Jim gestures across the bar with a flopping hand.

"So, I know where you're from, I'm guessing the next step is to ask 'when'. Or should I guess?"

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"I'd prefer not to be here four years from now, yeah."

Seven months has been bad enough. It's not that the City doesn't have opportunities -- anywhere has opportunities, if you know where to look for them -- but he misses New York, and his business partner, and his apartment, and any number of things.

"You can guess, if you want."

People have been pretty good at guessing in the past. There must be something about him that ties him to his own time period. For his own part, he just generally guesses that other people are from the 'future.' It seems like a safe bet.

[hischair]

Having had little to no interest in history is going to make things really difficult here, but he's determined to do his best. Looking Lansky over, he bites his lip as he inwardly reels through time-periods; the smoking dates things fairly reasonably, fortunately.

"Late twenty-first century?"

Kind of.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

He laughs, shaking his head. He'd say it was a close guess, but it's not, really. That leads him to believe Jim is probably from some time far ahead of him.

"No, the last time I checked, it was 1923. You must really be from the future."

It's an odd thought, but then, everyone around here is from the future, it seems.

[hischair]

"Jesus." He doesn't own eyebrows anymore, they've gone to live in his hair-line. "I guess that explains why you've got great taste in scotch. I'm from 2259 so, yeah, just a little further along."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"I don't know about that -- where I come from, alcohol isn't exactly legal."

Not that it stops him from drinking it. Or selling it. Luckily, around here, there don't seem to be any restrictions on that kind of thing. His own eyebrows go up slightly, although he's met some other people around here who're from that far ahead, so he's not quite as surprised.

"2259. I can't even imagine it."

[hischair]

"How can it not be legal? That's ... I don't even want to think about it, I'll hurt myself."

As for the future, Jim picks out the two most prevalent factors.

"In a nutshell, the twenty-third century's full of aliens and starships."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"Prohibition. The US government has some kind of idea that alcohol makes all of us do immoral things."

Which is funny, really, because it's making alcohol illegal that's made so many people do even more illegal things, as near as Meyer can tell. Still, he's never claimed to understand the decisions the government makes -- he simply conducts his own business.

"Aliens and starships. Now that sounds like a party."

[hischair]

"I should bone up on my history, never had much time for it."

Not in between classes on survival strategies and tactical analysis, let alone serving his terms on the Farragut. And then Nero had happened, and. Yeah, not much free time at all.

"You see those talented ladies over there? The pretty blonde and her brunette friend." Nodding a-ways through the crowd, Jim dons a visible pensiveness as he watches the girls perform aerobic feats around some damnably lucky poles. "She would look nice if she had green skin and the dark-haired one couldn't hurt to have a tail to whip around."

His smile turns on Lansky.

"It's the best party there is."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"Yeah, I don't think you're gonna find too many green-skinned people or people with tails here, although you never know. Still, those two aren't bad as they are."

He might not be the partying type, but he can appreciate good looks when he sees them. In fact, just about everyone here is pretty attractive. His employees had done a good job. Even the guests are attractive.

"You want another drink?"

His own glass is empty again. Amazing how that keeps happening.

[hischair]

"They're perfect, I'm just missing some old girlfriends."

Jim shies a hand over his mostly-finished drink. Weirdly, he doesn't feel like he's had any alcohol at all. Khan's blood could be soaking it up. Shit, if he can't get drunk as easily anymore, he'll be sending the Augmented asshole the bill for all his extra shots in the future.

"I really can't, I was ill until recently. Throwing up on your birthday would be a crappy gift, but don't let me stop you indulging. Go for it, it's your night."