New Connections

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New Connections

The Devil, The Dealer, The Mortal, The Gremlin and The Dancer

1 November, 2019

Just Widget introducing Mavis to a pot dealer, Jenny, who happened to have some Wyrd company over for the evening.


Jenny's Cabin

Jen's cabin is set back pretty far in the woods, at least a half a mile in any direction from any neighbors. It's a cozy size, paint peeling a bit and wood weathered but not falling apart by any means, with the last remains of fall flowers spread around the front porch. Despite the probable scarcity of trick or treaters, extensive efforts were made to set the place up for Halloween, with numerous spooky looking scarescrows spread in a perimeter around the grounds. There's a white picket fence, gate open, leading to the backyard and an extensive, rambling garden, eclectically and selectively overgrown and mingled with the wild growth of the woods, so it's difficult to say where the garden itself begins or ends, although of course by now everything is giving way to the end of fall. Straw has been spread over most of the garden bed already in preparation for winter. There's also a greenhouse and a pool/hot tub with orange and red leaves floating on the surface. Jenny herself is collecting the last of this season's apples, walking barefoot despite the chill and wearing only a thinly worn faux-cheetah print jacket against the air.

Jen's cabin is set back pretty far in the woods, at least a half a mile in any direction from any neighbors. It's a cozy size, paint peeling a bit and wood weathered but not falling apart by any means, with the last remains of fall flowers spread around the front porch. Despite the probable scarcity of trick or treaters, extensive efforts were made to set the place up for Halloween, with numerous spooky looking scarescrows spread in a perimeter around the grounds. There's a white picket fence, gate open, leading to the backyard and an extensive, rambling garden, eclectically and selectively overgrown and mingled with the wild growth of the woods, so it's difficult to say where the garden itself begins or ends, although of course by now everything is giving way to the end of fall. Straw has been spread over most of the garden bed already in preparation for winter. There's also a greenhouse and a pool/hot tub with orange and red leaves floating on the surface. Jenny herself is collecting the last of this season's apples, walking barefoot despite the chill and wearing only a thinly worn faux-cheetah print jacket against the air.

      A 1976 faded, lime-green Ford Ranger bounces over the road, rolling up to the cabin and stopping. There's a mortal, Mavis, behind the old beater's wheel. She's wearing a knitted beanie, colors in shades of gray and yellow, with her black hair loose and wavy under it. An aviator-styled jacket, warmly-lined, is pulled over her hoodie with the zipper partly zipped. Knitted, fingerless gloves to match the hat case her light-brown hands.

      She puts the truck in park and fingers on the keys in the ignition, prompting (dundunDUN!) Widget in the passenger seat with, "Is this the place?" Mavis squints out the front window, doubtfully. "Ya sure?"

Jenny Noname isn't alone among her trees. There are two other individuals, seated nearby on a log. Carter Logan has apparently decided to pay a visit to the Moon's little garden, looking as sophisticated as ever in one of his many immaculate suits. Mavis' mortal eyes, of course, can't see much more than that, but even in the darkness, there seems to be a permanent spotlight on the man. He draws the eye in a supremely strange way.

He's also smoking something that... might be a normal cigar. It's difficult to tell, in the darkness. And he's playing a guitar, strumming through something that sounds vaguely Spanish in origin. He's not singing, though. He's just grinning, and playing, and smoking, and watching the other two women move about between the trees.

Widget nods, pointing at the tall woman among the plants. "Her! Yes. Here!" Giving the dash a fond pat, she hops out and beelines over to the dryad. Hug and kiss, the imp clearly very close to the woman. Carter too, minus the kiss. A good nuzzlin', though. She tries for Zillah and kind of sheepishly flees instead. Back to Mavis, getting dragged over.

"Gonna like them! Very nice. Yes."

While she's not all out dancing, Zillah is certainly moving to the music. It's a graceful thing, serpentine and fluid. Those gifted enough to witness such things see nothing but shadows, the glimpse of her face. And while she doesn't stand out the way that Carter does, there's something drawing about her. The things seen in the dark of night, that dig into the mind.

The mortal in their midst, however, sees a very pale woman, with long and dark hair. Brilliantly blue eyes, wearing leather pants, a crop top, and a velvet kimono that looks like it was stolen from Stevie Nicks herself. Black lips are pulled into a manic smile, and there's a flash of ....were those /fangs?/ to Widget.

"A mortal, I think. Don't know her. And Wij." Jen murmurs to other two before the car goes into park, eyeing a particular apple before shrugging and tossing it back onto a garden bed to add to the compost. Most of them are rubbish by this time, of course. The blonde grins, setting her basket down and tucking a dred behind one ears, kneeling to greet and scoop the smaller woman up, returning the kiss, almost lightly enough to seem platonic, if not quite. Letting her wiggle free as the barefoot hippie offers a wave to the new guest. "Hey. You bring a friend, love?"

      Shrugging, Mavis flicks off the lights and shuts down the engine with a twist of the keys, removes those same keys, and slides them into her right, jacket pocket as she opens the truck door with her left. The mortal pauses to check her phone for the time, somehow turns on the flashlight and blinds herself-- "g'Ack!"-- then manages to turn it off. She hops out of the truck, closes the creaky door and steps forward to peer over the rust-patched, green hood of the Ranger for her gremlin companion.

      "It's not really what I'm used to," she tells Widget, glimpsing around at the festive, Halloween decorations and the straw littering the ground while shoving her hands into her pockets. Mavis grins as she peers back at Widget, trudging over the straw covered earth in her paint-flecked boots to join her friend. "Guess this is how ya'll do things here in Vermont."

      She jabs a thumb over her shoulder, trying not to /look/ in Jenny and company's direction and murmurs, quietly, "Is that her?" She hears music, too, now she's not inside of her truck with the rumbly-roar of the engine isn't drowning it out. The light also indicated warmth and Mavis' breath mists when she sighs it annnnd then Widget's dashing off, leaving Mavis to blink after her in her wake. By the time Widget greets everyone, shies from one woman, and doubles back to grab Mavis, she's about halfway along. The human offers Widget an arm to grab, her other hand hiding in a pocket to keep warm, but when Widget hauls them nearer she retracts that hand to sheepishly wave.

      "Hi." Double-take. "Hello, Mister Logan." A dip of her head, respectful. There's a muffled glint of shock in her honey-brown eyes, but hey... She's here to buy pot so let's not make a big deal of it. Mavis' attention flits over to the pale, inky-haired woman dancing and she unconsciously shies closer to Widget. She sort of wished Amity was here, too. Mavis manages to clear her throat and manage a thick-voiced, "-'ello," then her attention flies over to the blonde. She adds, "I'm Mavis, uhh... Widget told me about you."

Carter's music is a beacon on the air, the notes shining like dull fire on the breeze. The sound of it seems to compel the listener to draw closer, to give in, to dance as Zillah does. It's smoky, and sinuous, and beautiful - and, if the expression on Carter's face is any indication, entirely effortless. His attention is entirely upon Zillah.

At least, until Widget and Mavis arrive. That seems to pull him out of his reverie, and he grins a wide, curved grin at the new arrivals. "Miss Widget," he says, pausing in his playing /just/ long enough to return her nuzzling with a one-armed hug. "And Miss Baines. I see you two have finally met. Wonderful, wonderful. Welcome to the party. Zillah and I-" he inclines his head towards the dancing woman "-are, I suspect, here for the same reason you are."

And his grin widens. God, his voice is unbelievable - even as he just hums lightly along with his resumed playing, it's hypnotic and alluring and dangerous. "No need to be shy," he adds, spotting Mavis' momentary hesitation. He laughs once, softly. "Zillah and Miss Noname are delightful company."

Widget leans warmly against Mavis, pointing at everyone anyway. "Carter. Zillah. Jenny." Pause. "Widget." There, all done. The gremlin proudly shows off Mavis, pleased as punch she made a mortal connection. And a business one! "Wants weed. Yes."

Y'know just saying it openly and loudly like /she always does/. Damn proud, is Widget. "Everyone here is nice and cool and-" Catch. Brief moment of sheer panic. Recover. "...And can get you stuff and be friends. Yes."

"Mavis. Likes scrap and girls and weed and is very nice and lives with Amity." There's a definite capital A for the Lost to catch. Amity the lost she's babbled about to all of them. And knows nothing of Lost. Yes. See? She can be....sneaky?

The music, and the woman dancing to it, are perfectly paired. Either Zillah knows the song that Carter is playing, or she is just that good at predicting the beat. She moves in rolls of hips and sharp little twists when the music calls for it, undulations that have her slithering closer to the suited man once more. Sliding around behind him, fingers play along the air behind him. At least that's what Mavis sees. The rest see a caress of the wings that arch up behind the Devil.

Her eyes settle on the unfamiliar woman, and Zillah's grin spreads slowly. "Aaah, Amity. It's been terribly long since I last ran into her. Delightful, that one." There's a purr to her voice, and a hint of Brooklyn that lingers. A few other sounds whisper on the breeze, but that's surely just conversation carrying from elsewhere.

      Mavis snakes her arm back from Widget and pushes both balled fists back into her jacket pockets, shivering. She's dressed warmly enough, but the cold just seems to be something that the human isn't used to. Dusky skin and dark hair indicate some Mediterranean descent mingled in along her heritage, but she's most certainly American. She tilts her face back to Carter and murmurs, "That sounded real pretty, Mister Logan." It made her chest feel tight, though, and dusted up some memories of her mom that she hadn't pained over in quite awhile. The music is beautiful, however. When Carter approves of her arrival with his niece, Mavis smiles her bright grin at him. There's a tiny, sliver-gap between her incisors. "Yep, ran into her a few weeks ago." There's something mischievous about the way she says it and she darts a playful, secretive glance at Widget. She lifts her gaze to Zillah and her smile freezes as her brows knit.

      "Widj," she hisses, snapping her attention back to Widget who's declaring her illicit activities for the whole world to hear. Mavis shrinks inside of her jacket, shoulders hunching and spine slouching. She squints over at Zillah, cheeks flushed with cold turning a ruddier shade of pink. Surely, her ears are red under that knitted beanie. She asks Zillah, arching a brow and sounding none-too-surprised, "You know Amity? Huh, seems like she knows a lot of people, don't you think, Widget?"

"Nice to meetcha, Mavis." Jenny grins, ambling to offer a hand, and laughing at Widget's straight forward declaration. Glancing back at the pair, eyes lingering a moment on the serpentine movement of the darker woman, before returning her attention to Mavis, tucking one of her apparently unruly dreds behind an ear. "What kind, and how much? Don't usually like to deal outta my house to strangers..." This last said with a Look at Wij, "But, since you're vouched for..."

"Amity?" Carter says the name with a slight air of amusement. "Ah, yes. The repressed one. I do hope she loosened up a bit after we successfully got some alcohol into her. She's one of those that desperately needs some relief, I think. Poor soul." The laugh is genuine, but there's the barest, /slightest/ edge of wickedness to it, and his grin, for a moment, looks oddly... pointed.

When Zillah slinks down beside him, he shifts on the log. Beyond the Mask, where Mavis' eyes fail to reach, Carter moves to embrace Zillah with one of his wings, draping it casually over the shadow-woman's shoulders. Of course, Mavis herself only sees him shift the slightest bit closer to her, lift one hand to remove his cigar from between his teeth, and lean in, utterly shameless, to steal a long, lingering kiss from her lips.

When it ends, he looks back to Mavis, and laughs again at her sudden objection to Widget's forwardness. "Relax, Miss Baines," he says. His voice is as soothing as anything ever could be. "You're amongst friends here. Miss Noname is something of an expert in the field, and Zillah and I are frequent customers. More to the point-" he grins again, and passes his maybe-cigar over to Zillah "-does anyone here seem the type to judge?"

Widget will take this semi-win, weathering the criticism with well-used and head-bashingly-annoying sureness that this went perfect and there was nothing that could /possibly/ go wrong. The gremlin is just super-happy to be around so many friends, standing next to Mavis and smiling up at her.

"Will be fun! Can get snacks and weed and watch a movie. Yes. Jenny has lots of good movies!" She's got this super-rare Star Wars one with singing and hairy people and Widget's seen it like six times it'll be great. And...and snacks! And yeah! Just...please don't scream and run. Please?

      "Thanks, Widget," Mavis murmurs to Widget, closing her eyes and drawing in a breath to steel herself with then sighing out misty air and opening her eyes again. Mavis then offers Jenny her most brightest, bestest beaming smile. It is, of course, awkward and strained, showing far too many of her white teeth and the healthy, pink tissue of her gums. Her eyes are wide, walnut-brown in the available light, and betray her insecurity about all of this.

       "Yep, that's me. That's why I'm here," supplies Mavis with a sheepish laugh and an extension of her own hand. It's chilly and ringed, sheethed in a fingerless glove. As far as handshakes go, Mavis gives Jenny's hand a warm squeeze then tries to slither her hand back into her jacket pocket. She winces understandably and nods, "Yeah, I getcha. I'm new to the area, all of my old connects are back east." The mortal shoots a furtive glance at Carter, thinking about how he knows her boss. "Just lookin' for some mid-range," Mavis trails on, attention drifting back to Jenny and remaining firmly on the blonde dealer as Carter and Zillah snog long and deeply in the corner of her peripheral. She prompts Jenny with, "How much for a half an ounce and a full ounce? What're you comfortable breaking off? What?"

      She turns her attention back to Widget when she babbles that bit about the "screaming and running". Mavis chews the corner of her lip. "Hmm? Oh, no, I gotta get home tonight." Mavis shoots Jenny an apologetic glance, she was /not/ trying to impose herself. "Sorry, don't want to bother you more than I already have and," she pulls a hand from her pocket to sweep toward Carter and Zillah, "you have enough company. I don't mean to intrude.."

"Repressed but respectful," Zillah counters to Carter. "And you know how I love to be given my proper due." Her hand settles on the man's thigh, a small touch given, as they lean in towards each other. The kiss that follows is, indeed, long and lingering. There's a passion to it, a heat that most would keep for behind closed doors. But there's no shame at all in the woman, even as a soft groan escapes her lips. She laughs lowly when she pulls away, looking to Carter with open adoration.

"None of us here are about to judge about recreational habits," the Serpent says with a chuckle. "Especially not when it's something as light as weed." She takes that offered maybe-cigar, puffing from it and exhaling upwards. "The benefits of a small community. Many of us know each other. And we always enjoy company, when not behind locked doors."

Jenny tilts her head and then grins. Unlike the mortal girl's, hers is relaxed. If there's something indescribably off about Carter, with Jenny it feels... oddly the opposite. She's a weirdo hippie in the woods walking around barefoot in magenta and neon orange wrister warmers, cheetah print coat, and covered head to toe in about 400 pieces of flair, yet somehow everything seems normal at the grin, calm and serene as she gestures to a seat, going over to kick away leaves from the stone ring in front of the bench. "Why don't you have a seat, grab some snacks?" There are also snacks. Plus a basket of apples. "I'll build a fire and go grab some of the merch and we can chill a bit and see what you're into, yeah? You wanna grab some more snacks, love?" This last at Widget, clarifying quickly, "The normal ones, for now?"

"Oh, exceptionally respectful," Carter answers, inclining his head towards Zillah. "And you know I'm hardly about to complain about someone with the impulse to bend the knee. But she really does have a desperate need for someone to break her out of that shell a bit. It would be much more fun for everyone involved. Herself included, of course."

He laughs quietly, and strums a few more notes on the guitar as he looks back to the rest. Oh, yes. The smell coming from the cigar he's handed off to Zillah makes it plain that it isn't just tobacco being smoked. "Miss Baines is going to be fine, Widget," he says, simultaneously reassuring and firm. "She might be a bit new to the area and still finding her feet, and she certainly feels a bit overwhelmed at the moment, but that's entirely natural."

A few more notes on the guitar. This time, the song is sweet and slow, almost romantic, vaguely classical, like audible moonlight. "But really," he adds, this time speaking directly to Mavis again, "you /are/ among friends here, Miss Baines. And Miss an Nua-" he drops the name as though reading her mind "-is hardly about to judge, so long as you don't indulge during work hours. We're something of a free-spirited community, here, and no one's about to start reenacting Reefer Madness. Relax. Enjoy yourself. Make some new friends."

      "Yeah, that's Amity. Repressed and respectful" Mavis calls over her to Zillah, tilting her head juuust enough to fix slim, moon-pale dancer the in her sights, which also brings Carter directly into view. "Nothing wrong with having friends," Mavis says coolly, although that'd be fine if Amity wasn't always lying about how knew absolutely nobody in this town. The mortal sniffs, rubs her nose, and quickly turns her face back to Jenny, trying not to look at the pair of lovebirds basking in resplendence.

      "Snacks?" goes Mavis, voice trailing up higher at the end. Her dark eyebrows both shoot up too and she sucks in her lips, trying to suppress a greedy grin. "Well, I mean. Try before you buy, as they say, right?" She hop-skips-bounces over to the cleared spot for her and plops down, bracing her hands on her knees and smiling nervously and happily at once. It wasn't so bad, the mortal tells herself, just the thrill of meeting new people in new settings is s'all and that would pass. "If ya don't mind," she says over to Jenny, appreciative of the hospitality. Mavis nods to Widget, seconding Carter's assurances with, "I'm fine, I'll be here when you get back." She lets the notes Carter strums on the guitar lull her, starting when he speaks to her. "Oh! Uhm, I guess." She shrugs. "We went and checked out The Rising Sun with her today, neat place."

Widget scuttles off, returning with a giant amount of snacks. She's sherpa'd herself with an impressive amount of baked goods and drinks and whatnot, all of it mundane. Setting it all down, she mills about for a bit before her jangling nerves let her settle down. Flop on Jenny, curl, purr, very happ imp yes much.

"Like this. Lots of friends. Yes."

"Shame she's not here," Zillah muses. And it sounds, well. Surprisingly genuine. Don't mind that little gleam in her eyes. "If November were the judgemental sort, or even frowned upon things like this at all, she and I would not be such excellent friends." She turns her head, and there's a kiss - then a bite - to Carter's shoulder before she leans against him lightly. "A fire sounds lovely. I fucking hate the cold. It agrees with me less and less, since." She gestures to herself. Like that explains just about everything.

The maenad doesn't do anything overtly magical, but she IS lazy, so that fire seems to build up pretty quickly. Well, in fairness, the remains of the last one were still in the stony pit. Stray leaves brushed away, it's not long before the fire starts building hot and quick in the cool light of early dusk, Jen taking a seat and petting the imp that flops in her lap, leaning down to kiss the girl tenderly, more lingeringly and unmistakably non-platonic this time before she shoos, "Going to go grab some samples, love. Also, bit a' surprise I've been working on."

      "By "we" I mean Amity and I," adds Mavis, clarifying while glancing over at Carter. "Amity met us there. She seemed like she wasn't feeling well, though." The mortal's lips compress and frown, expressing her reflection of concern then her right knee begins to nervously bounce and Mavis checks her phone. It's a convenient thing to be looking at when Zillah trades affection with Carter and nips at him. She swipes through her empty messages, the last texts she'd gotten were from Widget and Mavis deleted those because they'd contained her own requests for weed and Widget sending a picture of pounds-and-pounds of weed like a bale of hay. She peers over at the pair, nodding and murmuring to Zillah, "Yeah, I figured she wasn't feeling well and this was sort've spur of the moment. I just got a new truck." She adds that like it's relevant, tilting her head at the pale woman when Zillah points at herself like that. Great... Now Widget and Jenny were macking on each other and Mavis just tucks her phone away and stretches her boot-clad feet closer to the fire. She just smiles over at Jenny, awkwardly. Yep! This isn't uncomfortable or anything.

      "Nice fire," Mavis admires.

Carter makes a noise, low in the back of his throat, when Zillah nips at his shoulder, turning to press a kiss against the top of the woman's head briefly before looking back to the others.

The air tonight seems... strangely pleasant. It's been cold and damp in Fort Brunsett lately, but here, amongst the trees in Jenny's garden, things seem... warmer. More pleasant. The smell of the smoke twining through the air is sweet and soothing, and- yes, there's that strange, faint smell that Mavis noticed the last time she met Carter. Low, barely noticeable, but immensely pleasing. Perhaps it's his cologne.

And his fingers still dance slowly over the strings, filling the air with that glittering music, a slow, beautiful waltz. He begins to hum again, after a few measures, and the sound of that voice is enough to send shivers down any music-lover's spine, even when acting so casually as this. Even without the weed being available just yet, it's becoming very quickly a comfortable, easy sort of situation, with the music and the scent and the heat of the fire nearby.

After a moment, though, the humming briefly stops. "There's no need to sit on the ground, Miss Baines," he says. A brief glance towards Zillah, and a slight, barely noticeable widening of his smile. "There are no chairs available, I'm afraid. But please, do feel free. There's room here." And he inclines his head towards the side of the log opposite Zillah.

Widget returns the affection, very much not platonic. Disengaging, the girl scuttles off again and comes back with more /stuff/. What she's supposed to, prompt and neat. So proud! She's helping! Handing the loot over the Jenny, she leans against the dryad to enjoy the heat. Fire good. Fire warm. Warm good. Yes. All is good.

Jenny meant she was going to go, but the dryad is, as aforementioned, lazy, and does love dropping pronouns. She also is curious to see what array the gremlin is going to pick out, and if she's thinking of the same surprise the dryad was. She does try to keep Wij updated and abreast of market trends and her side projects, but is never entirely sure how much the rusty girl is retaining. Back on the mortal side, the perfectl, even especially normal seeming hippie identifies some of the neatly, surprisingly, organized baggies, describing some of their properties, flavors, intensity, duration, etc. etc.. Pulling a pipe from one of her pockets as she begins packing a sample of one of the more mild, low-key strains, taking a puff before passing it to Mavis for a trial.

The fire sparks to life, and the shadows in the area deepen, stretch. Likely just a bit of cause and reaction, there. Don't pay attention to the way the darkness twines and dances, like a creeping nest of snakes. "Surprise?," she asks towards Jenny, head canting to the side. She's behaving herself, truly. The hand on Carter's thigh has not wandered anywhere else, for example.

Zillah log-dances slightly to the music that Carter plays, caught up in it like a leaf in the breze. "Hmm? Oh, yes. Please do feel free to join us, Mavis."

Meanwhile, the dryad flashes Zillah a bottle Wij brought with the merchandise. To mortal eyes it's a dull, swoshy brownish liquid inside an old wine bottle. To other eyes, the liquid inside sparkles and shines as clear as a winter night, illuminated with a seemingly infinite depth of stars that swirl and dance in the glass. Tugging the cork off with her teeth as she adds, "Course, needa be careful mixing booze and weed." Jenny has a surprisingly stern tone about this, although like, she's still passing it out, so not that stern. "The weed suppresses your puke reflex, yeah? Bad time to be pushing limits on what yer liver can take, s'all. Sip, don't chug." She lets Zillah start off the goblin liquer, since she was more curious, and also most of the effects will just be lost on Mavis. To a mortal tongue it will be better and herbal, but mostly unpleasant. To Lost tongues, a deep, dark, tannin-y taste shines through, simultaneously earthy otherworldly, a dizzying trip accompanying the buzz it brings.

      Mavis lets the fire warm the toes of her boots, offering one and then the other then tucks her legs back. She begins to fidget while waiting for Widget's return. Her knee bounces up-n'-down again, rapidly, either due to nerves or cold. Perhaps a combination of both. What was that Zillah had said about closed doors? Nevermind. The air seems warmer and Mavis was beginning to thaw out, which is nice all-in-all, and makes her miss less the working heater in her new-used truck. She could smell the pot, caught a whiff of it as soon as she'd strode up to the gathering, but it was something the mortal was fairly used to. The only startling thing had been the company she'd stumbled upon.

      "Huh?" hums Mavis when Carter speaks to her. She'd been basking in the music his fingers coaxed out of those guitar strings. The mortal blinks at him and Zillah, seconding his invitation, in a dazed. "Oh," she goes then gets up, dusts straw and some leaves offa herself, and trudges around the log so she doesn't have to scoot by anyone. Mavis settles herself down where Carter had indicated, straightening her jacket out and pulling off her beanie to ruffle her glossy, black hair. She grins at the pair, amused. "Guess it's warmer than the ground, huh."

      Her eyes about pop outta her head when Widget returns ladened with contraband. She accepts the pass of that loaded pipe, puffing on the glowing ember til it glows hot orange, and holding the smoke in her lungs. Mavis does a short double-puff then wordlessly offers it back, nodding and sighing slowly. Her voice is squelched, wisping with smoke, "Nice.. What else you got?" She empties her lungs and coughs a little, curiously and watery eying the bottle being passed about. "I'm willing to spend a bit more for quality."

"Warmer, yes." Carter nods, still grinning his crooked, amused little grin. "And at least a bit more comfortable for the legs. Which, of course, is something of a concern for me." He taps one of his feet against the ground, and even in the deep shadow, Mavis can see the strange, misshapen contour of his legs through the cloth of his pants.

The music never stops. It seems to flow from him naturally, easily, without effort, as simple as breathing. He sways along with Zillah, keeping her against his side, and laughs at the sight of Widget and Jenny making out so shamelessly. When the bottle is offered, his eyes follow it curiously, one elegant eyebrow arching slightly as he watches Zillah, waiting for her to render judgment.

Eager, greedy fingers reach out for the bottle as it's offered. "Jenny, you're absolutely one of my favorites," she chimes as she sniffs, before sipping. And then again. Not quite a chug. "Love, I don't think my liver exists anymore at this rate." There's a laugh, warm and bright, before she turns. Carter's hands are busy, and so she pours a bit into his mouth for him if allowed. "We need a bottle, I'm thinking. Pretty much put us down for two of everything."

++++FTB 'cos it got late and stuff++++