Boys' Night Out

Cross takes Claud out for a night on the town for the lols. They run into Frankie, shenanigans ensue.

Setting:

An upper class Mafia restaurant, Rhythm and Roasts, home of the "Tuned and Toast" breakfast special.

Timeline:

Followed by Square Dance Lessons

(Claud um um, so Claud had to get dressed nicely, aaaaand I'm assuming this is somewhere in mafia territory?)

(Frankie doesn't go to restaurants by himself... and a lady will ruin Claud date.... RECON MISSION IT IS )

• Cross gets Claud to dress up and gets this kid to a nice restaurant with GOOD FOOD. REAL FOOD. Mostly just to watch the guy flip out over the level of class.
• Claud puts the suit on >:T
• Cross gets an emergency call from another friend and has to leave for a minute. Really, he just wanted to give Claud a chance at trying on 'not being a hobo' for a night at a nice club and at the same time, it's amusing watching his reactions. And if something bad happens, FUNNIER STILL. So pretty much 'let's watch Claud squirm in discomfort' PERFECT. It’s let’s make things awkward for everyone while technically doing good for somebody. Hell yeah.
• Claud is IMMEDIATELY SUSPICIOUS of Cross' motives >8| "Why are you doing this."
• Frankie wanders about the classier part of purple district.
• Claud cleans up, shaves, removes his many earrings, and puts on the suit Cross picked out for him ("How the hell do you know my measurements!?"). He settles for slicking back his hair and tying it into a lose ponytail.
• Frankie tries to remain inconspicuous as he strolls along. Checks his watch casually. Nothing to see here. Nothing at all. Later, perhaps. At the moment though, just another Mafia member, hahaha, pay no mind.
• Claud "OK, fine, I'm ready, now where are we goin and will you please tell me why we're doin this?" sulks |:c
• Cross He's rifled through Claud's existing clothes pile to get a sense of measurements, it's not exactly hard to remember clothes sizes when you wanna make sure your roomie isn't stealing your stash.
• (Claud I said I was sorry about drinking your stuff on Valentine’s day |:c )
• Frankie is being watched he knows he's being watched Goddamit who the hell is watching him- he casually walks into a restaurant, giving the impression that he was headed there the whole time.
• Cross and Claud take the bus <:T Cross wearing sunglasses at night because he's cool. No he is just not arguing this. He thinks Claud looks good in a suit. Tall enough to make a damn good impression. No he is not a fashion professional just likes things that look nice. AND WE ARE HERE. Cross fuckin strides c'mon
• Claud It feels good to be out and about, for reasons other than begging for food or working an odd job. Claud looks around at the ritzy area they'd arrived in, eyes wide. Oh god, he's in Mafia territory again, thankfully he's with Cross and... Waitaminute. He catches up with Cross and hisses, "Dude, are you in the Mafia?!"
• Cross "S'been a couple months now man, ja. I'm mafia." He just flashes a grin. BD
• Frankie gets ushered in quickly- the host greets him familiarly, but Frankie quickly slips him some cred and requests to be given a secluded table in the back. Facing the door, of course. No fuss is to be made. The usual drink. Good, good.
• Claud goes a little red in the face, and not in the good way. "Yeah okay, that explains a lot actually..." he finally mumbles. He falls in step half a pace behind Cross, quickly distracted by the nightlife. The very... wild nightlife. He nearly plows into Cross when he stops in front of a very pricy looking restaurant. "Here?" he asks, incredulous. Wait. He had NO WAY of paying for this.
• Cross just waggles his wallet like that explains everything. "Nein. Zhere's a reason I don't mind paying fur your shit. You kept me afloat fur a long time and now I'm not fuckin broke anymore." He tucks it away again. It was empty; his money's in a pocket inside his coat jacket. "Consider it a thank you." Cross is just having fun tonight. If he didn't show his face around once and a while people would start to think he was in hiding right? That and he wanted to drink himself silly and see what happened with his hobobuddy drowning in class. Haha.

GUESS WHO WALKS IN THE DOOR?

• Frankie is just going to wait out his pursuers. He'd leave after an hour or so, go through the grid, not a problem. Delay was part of the plan, he'd made sure- Someone walks in the door- OH FUCK, THAT GUY. He's glad he's in the back. Perhaps Cross won’t notice him.
• Claud "Yeah okay, that's true..." put like that he didn't feel bad about all the stuff Cross was doing for him but, he still didn't want to owe the guy for anything. He follows Cross into the restaurant and immediately starts pricing things in his head. NO. Don't steal anything, this is supposed to be a nice night ou-- a sudden thought hits him and he's back at Cross' side grumbling, "And to be perfectly clear this is NOT a date, okay."
• Cross's grin goes wider "Pfff, of course not. You see a lady and she vants to dance, - now," he leans and points, lookin over his shades, "I know you refuse to dance. But a little slow shtep here and zhere von't do much if it's not your shtyle anyvay, who knows? Might get lucky." He's equal parts irritating and telling you to just have a good time, take it as you will! He talks with the front desk and gets them a table. Cross fails to notice any whiffs of ozone due to electrical activity in the building.
• Frankie eases his drink down, hunching over, willing Cross and whoever the hell his guest was not to notice him. He glances casually, desperately around the restaurant, hoping he knows no one else- ah. All good. Ok. This could work. The drunk asshole would get more drunk, and Frankie'd be able to leave without any trouble. He sinks back into his seat.
• Claud just grumbles and tries to remain civil. The noise and the density of bodies and competing vibes were starting to set him on edge. He hadn't been around this many people in a long time. Trying to blend in, he follows Cross without looking around too much.
• Cross uses his sunglasses to peer about without looking like a creeper. What is Frankie's deal if he's sparking the- oh scheisse he's looking my way, that's probably it. Hmmm. NOPE HE's ordering dinner and more drinks than he knows what to do with. Plans will be improvised as necessary.
• Frankie drinks less reservedly. He makes the slightest motion to a waiter for another- maybe a bottle?... No. He was on the job. Just one more glass. Frankie polishes his current drink off and pays closer attention to the music. Classical, good for somethin slow. Not the best, but at least it left him feelin kinda floaty- ah. The bottle arrives. Lovely.

Frankie `flip is Frankie going to lose to his alcoholism and drink too much? Hoss: Heads! Frankie 8 (

• Claud opens the menu and barely controls a strangled exclamation of "Holy shit." This place charged more per plate than... than... well it was near criminal is what it is, it had best taste as good as it cost. He orders something on the lower end of the scale, a few appetizers, and sits back to try and calm down. After a minute he notices Cross casting glances over his shoulder. "What are you looking at?" he turns around briefly to look. "Who is that?"
• Cross has a cigar he's attempting to light at the moment, and takes his time getting dealt with first before answering. "Hnn? Oh ahh... nur ein koll- ah. Just a colleague of mine. Don't mind him." epic handflap. Why was Frankie here, besides the usual 'getting drunk', he wondered. Probably just happenstance. He's waiting for whatever it was he ordered. He asked the waitress surprise him. But for drinks, ginger and rye. Always.
• Claud adjusts his tie for the umpteenth time, sips his drink, and sits back trying to look relaxed. "Should we, uh, invite him over? He's all alone over there..."
• Frankie pours himself another glass- He stops mid gulp when he notices Cross motion at him. He manages not to spark with irritation. It was such a small annoyance, really it shouldn't be so difficult- Frankie buzzes. Fuck. This was not a part of keeping a low profile, which further annoyed Frankie, which lead to more vibe difficulty- OK. MUSIC. LISTEN TO THE CALMING MUSIC. Frankie does. He can still feel his vibe welling up.
• Cross plans for tonight are: eat fancy amazing food, get drunk, dance with somebody, who knows, get Claud drunk enough to see if this kid ever dances, HAVE FUN. Cross winds up with lobster dinner somehow.
• Claud takes a few more swallows of his drink, and thanks the lord when the food finally arrives. Wow this was... fancy. All the appetizers were all arranged and pretty, garnishes and sauces galore. He almost feels bad messing it up. Almost. He didn't say anything but his face clearly said "ohmygodthisisdelicious."

SUDDENLY A REALLY GOOD SONG COMES ON AND CROSS AND FRANKIE BOTH NEED TO DANCE

• Frankie drinks maybe a few more glasses then he intended- and the restaurant’s music changes- It's pretty fucking catchy, not like the crap from before- the small crowd on the dance floor suddenly becomes more dense. The room fills with the noise of chairs being pulled out, and classy Mafia dudes and dames getting up to dance...
• Cross is having fun murdering his lobster dinner (which he had a good laugh at when it arrived. (Leave it to the chef to give him something expensive and difficult to eat for not being specific). "Oh man, I haff to dance to zhis I love zhis song. Dude c'mon." Cigar still held in his teeth, he gestures to Claud. C'mon c'mon!
• Claud
shakes his head, caught somewhere between melancholy and a comfortable alcoholic buzz. "Naw I'm good, you go ahead." His smile was subdued but there. Go on, go on!

• Frankie loves this song Goddamit- But he wasn't sposed ta make a scene....... But the crowd was really big, so it really shouldn't be an issue.... Right. Frankie stands up with the slightest wobble. He downs his latest drink before he leaves for the floor, moving quickly though the now mostly vacated tables. GOTTA DANCE, MAN.
• Cross wow, look at Claud, stellar coping man when given a few drinks. He seems content with this reply and swaggers on into the fray. HE IS GOING TO DANCE WITH EVERYONE AT SOME POINT, JUST YOU WATCH. Lobster can wait. Maybe he'll bring somebody back to Claud hoho. Cross brings his drink with him whoops.
• Claud watches with a wry smile as Cross stumbles to the dance floor, drink in hand. He was adapting to the hum and energy of the room now, practically floating on it. Plus the food was pretty much the most amazing thing he'd had in years. Despite everything... this was kinda nice. Crowd watching, he notices the man who was seated in the back is dancing now too.
• Cross makes stumbling look sexy, but maybe that's just because he's a tap dancer at heart. His feet kind of go all over the place. But to the rhythm, so it works. Tap's his fave. He jumpstyles too but that's mostly due to the whole uh, not being raised mafia…

(Cross He's square-hearted multigeneric dancer derp. That and I figured giving him some slightly dorky combos would be adorable and silly. lol tektonic)

• Cross DOES THAT WHEN HE'S REALLY DRUNKRAVING
• Frankie tries to blend into the crowd- but the song's good for tap, unlike most of the crap they played tonight- Frankie quickly begins to glow with enhance vibe. His clicking can be heard over the noise of the restaurant- He really needs to reign in the show- BUT GODDAMN THIS WAS TOO FUCKIN FUN- His tapping begins to throw sparkles into the crowd, and he simply can’t keep his vibe to himself.
• Cross is fucking glittering what is - OH HAHA. RIGHT. VALENTINE WAS HERE. He actually has tap shoes on, and clicks his way over. Why not, he owed an actual hello anyway. "Hahaha, enjoying yourself zhis evening??"
• Claud Cross and Fwankie are dansin, Claud is being buzzed and having a tiny happy
• Frankie is loose from the booze and the great song… and people are admiring his fuckin fabulous moves and this was fuckin fantastic- Cross... Frankie’s vibe subsides noticeably with the greeting . "...Hello, Mister Cross." He doesn't break from dancing, but he’s not quite sober enough to keep the look of open distaste from his face.
• Cross takes that look of distaste as a hallmark of being recognized, really. He just grins happily and starts matching Frankie's steps, CIGAR IN ONE HAND, DRINK IN THE OTHER. Somehow making it look classy. He looks at Claud like 'you're missing out!!'
• Frankie Why is he dancing next to me, the jamdeaf bastard-- Hey waitaminute... "I didn't know ya danced tap..." Frankie's vibe creeps slowly back...Cross’ tapping wasn’t horrible… But Frankie will not allow his opinion of this man go anywhere but down. "...." But his scowl subsides despite himself.
• Cross flicks his grins to Frankie "How did you not know zhat?? I guess I vas bound to zhe piano chair back vhen I had my club job... haha!" the last laugh is punctuated with a tricky little tap rhythm he makes up on the fly.
• Claud Oh wow, now the guy was like, sparkling and glowing? That's interesting. Claud can't help but chuckle at the man's obvious distaste for Cross. He was glad he wasn't the only one who had a chip on his shoulder towards the smug bastard. He drums his fingers on the tabletop to the beat, chin in his other hand. Oh hey, lookit them go!
• Frankie Well shit. Cross isn't bad at all- Damnit, but wasn't that a surprise! "Ain't really sseen ya dance before, man!" At least, he’d only seen that goofy jumping shit. Frankie pulls off a quick pattern of his own. It isn't really meant as a challenge, more simply Frankie enjoying the company of someone sharin his style- But Cross. Um. Hm.
• Cross "Zhat's probably because I dance before I go out hahaa--hey vhere's my freund he should come dance too." He gestures again to Claud who looks like he's spacing out enjoying the atmosphere.
• Claud smiles again, a little embarrassed, and waves his hands in a 'no it's fine, really' gesture. He was good where he was at.
• Frankie looks over to Claud. He hadn't paid him much attention earlier, so focused on his dislike of Cross. "He sshould! What's holdin him back?? This song is-" Over. ... "Well I'm sure they'll play somethin good again..." Maybe. Honestly, he doubted it. Frankie only took the more demanding ladies here, the ones who thought expensive automatically equated quality… and even then, only when specifically asked. Most of the time, the music here was garbage. The kid had missed out. "What's yer friend's name, anyhow?" Never seen him around the district before...*
• Claud ahhhhh he had been caught staring, ahhhh omo He quickly goes back to finishing his meal.
• Cross "Haha, he's a shy one. I don't think he's proud of his shtyle, vhatever it is." He chuckles. "I know he does." Okay, that was stretching the truth--but he didn't want to make it apparently Claud was square. He'd get kicked out of here.
• Frankie If there was one thing Frankie hated (No, he hated everything), it was people bein down on their own style. It was one thing if the faction didn't approve of it, but goddamn--"Well that's jusst tragic. Damn. Here, maybe if I talks ta the kid??"
• Cross SHRUGS. "I dunno mann, he's secretive. You give it a shot if you like haha, I haff me a dinner to finish." he's going to 'play nice', insofar as being nice will be most likely to cause trouble. you can't blame him for being nice, can you? Cross's drink has also run out, and he waves over waiting staff to help him solve this.
• Claud sneaks a peek and OH GOD THEY WERE COMING OVER HERE omo He stands when they get close, trying to be polite, waiting for Cross to introduce them. That was 'the thing to do.' ... Right?
• Cross indeed it is, "Mister Valentine, my colleague Mister Claud." Heh. Somewhere in his mind he wondered if this kid could be cracked into dancing. He was going to need the bonus points with the faction if he got outed as having his Force alias, and scoping out a stubborn but prospective stepper seemed an interesting option.
• Frankie does something he'd never have considered in a million years (while sober) before he'd known Cross could tap. Frankie joins Cross at his table after giving Claud a polite bow at Cross’ introduction. "Good evening, Mister Claud!" He takes note of the single name. What was with all these kids and their lack of surnames anyhow? "You don't mind if I join you and Mister Cross, doya?" He smiles, very friendly.
• Claud's cheek twitches in amusement at all the 'Mister's being thrown around. It was hilarious. "Not at all Mr. Valentine, please," he gestures to an empty chair, waits for their guest to be seated before sitting himself. He was pretty much done with his food and was taking his time polishing off the last of it. Goddamn when had he eaten so well? Welp, time to pretend like he belonged here. He sat back and did look rather comfortable, now that he had a few drinks in him.
• Cross just looks slightly proud of the fact he does have friends. He needed to get away from the dance floor again, the crowd was wonderful but he wasn't sloshed enough to overcome his social instincts to bother a small select few at a time."Vhiskey, one fur each of us if you please. Put it on my bill." He asks when he finally gets serving staff back this way.
• Frankie had planned on pickin up their tab once he joined them... that was just what he did. He's about to protest when a thought occurs to him. "Yous found a new job then, Cross?" As much as the man annoyed him, he did not like seeing Mafia members out of work. Frankie settles down next to Claud.
• Claud leans back and slightly... to the side, towards Frankie, amusement showing on his face. He was watching Cross, interested in finding out just where all this cash was coming from. Couldn't have just been from him.
• Cross throws his head back in a soft laugh. "Hahahahaha," the alcohol was showing but it was where he felt his best, really, "Ohh, a little contract, a respectable employer has me ... hmh. I'm not supposed to talk about it." He leans on the table with both arms, his voice humming almost like there was some kind of innuendo here.
• Claud cocks an eyebrow at Cross' avoidance. Needing to lay low and a sudden mysterious influx of cash? This means... Yup, this glass was too full. He takes a long drink and leans a little more noticeably towards Frankie. He was starting to flush. and not just from the alcohol.
• Frankie's glowing finally subsides when the drink arrives and he begins to again on his fresh glass. Cross had ordered pretty good stuff. At this place, it'd cost a fortune, Frankie knew. Hm… he could appreciate the need for secrecy in a job, but he'd talk with Brown, make sure it was fer their side, at least. Cross was still a snake, after all. "Well, glad ta hear yer on the up 'n up then." Since that mess at the Eclipse.... not gonna ask about Phoenix. Nope. He abruptly turns to Claud "So, Mr. Claud. Cross here tells me you ain't particularly proud of yer style. Now, I know the Mafia promotes disco and all," he lowers his voice, barely audible over the music, "but yer sstyle's like...well. It'sh important, kiddo. Don't matter what other people tellsya about it. Yous don't need ta be ashamed of it, ssee?" Frankie's tone is very serious.
• Claud sits up DAMN STRAIGHT and glares at Cross with bleary-eyed daggers. "Cross I swear ta... you need ta keep yer..." he barely reigns in the swearing, opting instead to exhale angrily out his nose. Taking a deep breath and getting a hold of himself he turns to Frankie, "It'ain't that I'm ashamed of what I do or how I do it but... well it's personal Mr. Valentine, y'see." A quiet sadness creeps into his voice, "Too personal, I feel, to... perform in front of others." He turns back to Cross and the poison returns to his tone, "And that's more than you deserve to know Cross."
• Cross sits back in his chair, pretty sure what Claud was saying was genuine, but for everyone's sake he'll play the polite part. "...I didn't realize zhat. You could haff told me. ...I vouldn't have bozhered you so much about it." Yes he would have. Well. It's situational. Cross chooses the take-a-drink method as a means of conveniently removing himself from the verbal portion of this conversation. He could listen instead.
• Frankie watches the exchange with surprise, which fades to pointed annoyance at Cross before blooming into mild embarrassment. "Ah- well that's a different matter entirely. My ssincerest apologies, Mr. Claud, it apearsh that I was mishinformed." He glares at Cross over the rim of his glass. Bastard made him look like a fool. So much for first impressions. But… the ass seemed genuinely apologetic... Hmph. "Sso, what ish it you do then, Mr. Claud?"
• Claud huffs, still feeling too good to really pursue this argument here and now. "Yeah well, okay. I'm sorry." He directs at Cross. He leans back, arms crossed, and it's only a matter of seconds before he's leaning a little again. "Nahh, it's fine you didn't know. Right now I'm ah, between jobs. There's not a whole lot I can do, but it's ok, work's just work to me." Claud "And you?"
• Frankie finishes his drink and again motions the waiter for a bottle- on his tab this time. "'Tween jobs ya ssay? Well that won’t do..." Hm.. it could be hard findin work if ya couldn't dance in public, but Frankie could pull some strings, get things workin.... "Ah, well, if ya don't find shometin' soon, you just hit me up, yea? Ffamily looksh after it'sh own, ya sshee," he says with intensity, before staring down into his empty glass. "... Ah. Well... anyhow.. me, I do oddjobsh fer the higher upsh. Keep our disstrict safe'n all that-" A bottle arrives. "Right. CanI top anyonesh offf?" he makes the offer before pouring his own, of course.
• Claud holds his glass up. "Much obliged."
• Cross "Ahh, Danke Schon." he watches as glasses are happily filled. He's full of lobster dinner. This is ridiculous. Claud had to be killing himself right now. "To family?" he raises his glass in suggestion.
• Claud tilts his head, a little confused, then the expression softens. "Why not. To family."
• Frankie pours out for everyone in beautiful amber arcs. "Ah, that'sh perfect." He sparkles, ever so slightly, and joins them. "To family!" he shouts. The toast is echoed softly throughout the room.
• Claud There's that feeling again... he glances at Frankie and sure enough he's doing that thing again. The sparkling. When they'd toasted and drunk, he asked, "If you don't mind my asking, what's with the uh," he gestures vaguely, "The sparkling all about?"
• Cross downs his glass in one. It isn't a shot glass. He's just William Cross and he does as he pleases. He'll let Frankie field this one, and works on dinner and his cigar contentedly listening. And maybe pouring himself another drink quietly. Cross can't believe nothing horrible has happened yet. He's tempted to ruin things. But. At the same time, this dinner was really tasty. And Frankie'd just purchased one of the more expensive bottles for the table.
• Frankie "Mind? Ahhah, notatall! Thish heresh my good vibe!" He laughs without explaining the joke. "I can enhansh my dansh partner wit it. Showsh up as theshe little lightsh and ssuch." Frankie makes a concerted effort and the sparkles intensify. He begins to glow, but without the emotion or dance behind it, it subsides almost immediately. The sparkles remain though. ‘Eashier wwhen I'm danshin, o'coursh." He pants and takes a drink.
• Cross feels like a pretty princess. He's much more familiar with the other spectrum of Frankie's vibe. Well, not spectrum. ...polar opposite? Cross chuckles to himself just a little and sucks on an ice cube from his glass. "I vish mine vas zhat fun."
• Claud watches intently as Frankie sparks and shines, his eyes growing round in admiration and surprise, and pointedly ignoring Cross. When the electricity subsided he leaned back in his chair (he'd been leaning hard on his elbows towards Frankie) and rubbed his arms, laughing nervously. "Haha wow, now that's somethin."
• Frankie grins happily at the compliments. The glow slightly creeps back, effortlessly and all on its own this time. "Aw now, Crossh yyersh isss fuckin amazin, don't you start with that," he laughs again, and turns to Claud. "Do ya know what thish guy'sh vibe doesh?? This motherfuck gets high from his vibe, canya believe??" Though his language is getting cruder, he's managing to keep his tone low. "Some fellash have all the luck yea?" He laughes again and pats Cross' back in a congratulatory manner.
• Claud ,':| faces at Cross, "Yeah I can believe." Claud didn't really want to admit that he didn't know the full extent of Cross' vibe, it unnerved him. But then again, he probably should find out. Just in case.
• Cross is shaking his head in a grin, he doesn't get high from his vibe.... he wouldn't put it like that... Cross more like turned on a little. "Frankie you shtory teller vhat haff you been telling people about meehahaha."
• Frankie "Look, nono, look, it'sh like, well sshit ya ever meta lady who likessit a bit rough??" He glows more fully with the thought- "Hish vibesh like that, man, cept it'sh like, you, and inshteada that kinda… live feelin, it'sh like... whassit- like whnya take ffonk, right?? Yoush know that ffffeelin??" Frankie tries not to giggle- he bites his lip with the effort.
• Cross's brow furrows slightly as he listens.
• Claud is being thrown into all sorts of emotional turmoil. Between the alcohol and Frankie's glowing, he is both drunk and high, and he didn't know what to make of the fact that he wanted to get as physically close to the man as possible. What on earth? His jaw flexes as he tries to wrap his mind around what Frankie just said. "I uh, I'm not so sure I follow, but I think I kinda have a general idea. Although the one time I tried fonk was... bad. Bad trip."
• Cross "I don't get high off my vibe." He just drops that in there. He took a lazy puff of his cigar and left smoke clinging around his head, watching something curious going on with Claud's demeanor. Huh. Maybe bringing him and Valentine to the same table wouldnt be just amusing. Something's going on here. "Maybe ozher people do."
• Frankie looks at Claud with hazy curiosity. "Izzat righ?? But... fonksh like... it makesh ya feel reaaall good ushly... and god, danshin'sh while yer on it’s just like... the besht thing.. But it treats ya bad?? aw... damn kiddo, I'mshorry ta hearsat..." He looks to Cross, slightly puzzled as he pours himself the last of the bottle- they needed a new one right away- "Whassat? I thoughtya sshaid ya did... aw... really?? Huh.."
• Cross "VEeeellll..." there's a hint of a chuckle to his words - "I suppose you could argue iiit. It's... like adrenaline. To me. You hurt me, it hurts, and... zhen it doesn't." No shut up we don't talk about fight club, Cross. "I mask it and it just.... feels so alive, like my head clears and I know I can vin zhe fight." TOO MUCH INFORMATION. For his tastes. Not unless there's a guarantee he can get vibe dirt in return.
• Claud shrugs at Frankie's comment and tries to make it look nonchalant. Uh oh, he didn't like where this conversation was going. But at the same time... it was nice to get to talk about a part of him that he knew virtually nothing about. As Cross speaks he nods subtly, he knew exactly what he was talking about. "But it's scary too, if you aren't careful you can end up really hurting people. And sometimes even when you are careful, too." He says quietly, still playing with his glass. This sucked.
• Frankie drinks and listens. He nearly chokes though, and looks at Cross fuzzily- "Wha- ssho wait it issh jush likesh whena bird getsh rough???" Frankie can't help himself. He giggles, and sparkles shower softly over their table. "Tha'sh jus- eheehehee-" Frankie attempts to compose himself when Claud speaks. "Pfff- hee- ah- wassat.. scary? What- what wait- no. What-” His smile disappears. Hurting people, if ya weren’t too careful- ”.....Yes... Yesss you can." The glowing, sparkling vibe disappears almost instantly. Frankie finishes his drink. "Waiter, r'ea ye blin'?? Another bottle, Goddamit." Frankie calls out with a scowl.
• Cross babbles a bit, his own drink finally starting to catch up with his peers, "S'vhy he keeps a tight padlock on his dance." He gestures to Claud, but vaguely at best, "Svhy I don't talk about my vibe much. Or use it openly. S'vhy I bet... you... hh. I bet ve all haff things ve keep close and private. S'powerful shtuff." He nods. Yes. This would do.
• Claud The sudden switch from glowing high to nearly palpable disapproval hits Claud like a slap in the face. He looks quickly over at Frankie, so sudden was his change in mood that he needed to check he was the same man. He listens to Cross, staring at his hands again, glad for once to be talked about like he wasn't in the room. "I'm sorry." he mumbles. What did he say to upset him so? At least this cleared his head somewhat, all this talk of vibe and birds and getting high was starting to make him feel funny.
• Frankie deflates a little at Cross's words. Course. He wasn't the only one who had a dangerous vibe.... but.. what he'd done was inexcusable. It was evil. Frankie begins to spark. Sparkles disappear, to be replaced by quick, angry flickers. A new bottle arrives by way of very nervous waiter. Frankie glowers at him, takes it with a small, accidental shock, and pours another glass, himself first. Though he does manage to top off Cross and Claud's before starting his fresh glass. "Ya don't need ta apolosish kiddo. Bad thingsh happen. Isht's life."
• Cross "Ja. But hey, ve learn. Shit happens. Ve get over it, ja??" He's fascinated by this - Frankie gets sparkly, Claud spaces out a bit. Frankie hits more serious thoughts, it's like Claud sobers up again. Get Frankie... well, he wouldn't say 'mad' because he's seen actual mad, but even so, it wasn't every day someone eked an apology out of Claud. "Arhh, good, more drink. I think ve need zhis." His tone comes with a laugh hoping to lighten the mood again. Interesting event tonight. Far more lobster than he can possibly eat without hibernating afterward, but interesting conversations overall. Yeahh. He slouches a bit with his refilled drink.
• Claud nods mutely, absently listening to the conversation, still looking down in the mouth. Then it hits him, and he suddenly feels really stupid. How selfish it was of him to think he was the only one who had a terrible experience on V-day all those years ago. "No, no I do need to, here I was thinkin I was the only one who had a hard time of it. I'm sorry Mr. Valentine, I was being selfish." He manages a weak smile.
• Cross just takes a bite of his dinner, fascinated, but passing it off as idly drunk. It helps that he was drunk.
• Frankie drops his head into his hand- keeping it upright was becoming a bit of a challenge. "Sshome thingsh ya donn get ofer, Mishter Crossh. Shomethingsh ya shouln t get ovver. Don't dessherve ta get ovverr." He scowls sideways at his drink. It needed to be consumed. Frankie proceeds to do so. "Kiddo, that wash a whole mesh. It weren't yer fault, thash fersure. An it’sh eashy to get caught upin yer own grieff..." Frankie crackles with vibe, though it’s all internal now. Just don't touch him, it should be fine.
• Cross "You're right Frankie... I jusht... it's easier fur me operating in denial innn public, okayh. It's. Happier fur everyvone zhat vay. My private ills remain private, and zhe vay I feel tovard zhem shall shtay zhat vay too. So fur you two, I am over my problemsh. Fur me, I am not." There may have been air quotes involved somewhere in here, and his drink has gone empty already. Whoops. That was not tactical.
• Claud feels terrible for bringing it up, and when the man next to him starts sinking into his own thoughts he instinctively wants to make it right. He reaches out a hand to touch him on the shoulder only to be met with a sharp crack of electricity, his hand flying back of it's own accord. His eyes go wide, not in pain but in surprise, and he can't help but laugh nervously, "Ohhhh, wow." He's smiling somewhat, confused.
• Frankie "Yeah... yea, jussst bottle itshall aawaysh the best way, Crossh, youshaid it. Yer good attit, I ain’t ne'her guessed." He laughes. It's not funny. "Yesh. Fer the tyme bein, we're alll ofer our reshpective problemsh. Ain't that sswell, Mishter Cllaud? We're all ffuckin carefffree- OH GOD WHAT'RE YA- OH GOD 'M SORRY!!!" Frankie tries to back away from Claud, and ends up on the floor. The restaurant is silent besides the rather corny music.
• Cross is sluggish in his response, but decides that Claud having a heart attack is probably a bad thing, "FFfffick zhat - you okay zhere?" He gets to his own feet, feeling that if anyone can give the guy a hand up, it's him right now. Claud could wait a moment, he didn't want a bunch of purples directing their attention on the silly spectacle. (funny as it was. It so was.) He casts a long slow glance at anyone glaring, as if sizing them up and smoothly giving no fucks. Back to your business people. "...Frankie?" he extends a hand but not close enough to touch.
• Claud stands too, "I'm fine, I'm..." Oh. Not him. Frankie. He sits again, aware of the looks they were attracting and watches as Cross tries to give the man a hand up.
• Cross MEANT EITHER OR.
• Frankie recoils when Cross reaches for his hand - "Goddamit I'm FINE DIN'T YOU SEE WHAT JUSHHAPPEND?! DON'T FUCKIN TOUCH ME YA IDIOT!!" The music stops. Frankie stands up in the silence and sits back in his chair, watching Claud with pained guilt. "Mr. Claud. Are yous truly alright??? I am exsheedinly ssorry. I nefer meant ta hurt ya likesh that." Frankie sits in the awkward silence. "Alright ssshowsh over ggoddammit PUT THE MUSSHIC BACK ON AN' GET BACK TO YER OWN FUCKIN BUISNESSH," he yells at the room.
• Cross facefalls. People are still gesturing. He glares a moment to indicate, that YES, I AM VERY KEENLY AWARE WE ARE DRAWING YOUR ATTENTION WE DON'T EXIST IN A VACUUM I CAN SEE YOU STARING. He gestures to get on with their lives and a few actually do so. He gets back to his chair.
• Claud waits until no one is yelling and they're seated again. The dull noise of the restaurant starts to return. Claud leans in towards the other two, trying to retain as much privacy as possible, "I'm fine really, I am, 'm just a little surprised is all... Should I be... not fine?" He casts a nervous, questioning glance at Cross, what is going ooooooon.
• Cross couldn't tell you if you should be not-fine, he's familiar more so with his own danger thresholds when unmasked and even those weren't 'average'. Plus he didn't know how big the shock was. He can only offer an uncertain shoulder-shrug to Claud. "I'll let Frankie exshplain iff he schooses." DIPLOMATIC AS HELL. He's pouring himself more drink and eating the dinner he's... uncertain as to whether he will have to pay for or not, seeing as the suit here might pick up the bill so long as he doesn't cause a power outage.
• Frankie The music begins again, Frankie's hackles lower slightly. He drinks down two slugs in quick succession before speaking. "Hhhh- …Yer really ok?... Right… Ssee, my vibesh eletrict moshtly, donnno iffin I menshioned that befer?" He peers at Claud with puzzled relief. "Ushuhly them who'sh not gotta vibe ta pretect from it get real real hurt when it toucchesh them... I ferget, did ya menthion yer vibe?? Er- but regarsless, I'm real real glad it din't hurtya." He concludes, trying to make that as clear as possible in his murky state.
• Claud between the alcohol and his shame at embarrassing Frankie, he feels he at least owes it to the man to spill his share of secrets. He would prefer if Cross weren't there but... well the man didn't seem to be a direct threat so it should be okay. "Yes, I have a vibe, I wasn't terribly clear about it before, mostly because I don't really understand it, and it hurts sometimes but... sometimes it protects me, sometimes I don't hurt when I should." He tries to smile reassuringly.
• Cross is momentarily spacing out due to food overload and more drinkies. Cross is NOT taking notes, but mentally, ohhh yes. Cross, you fucking remember this. Claud's vibe has defensive nature. Nullifier? No. Hmm. Something lets him bypass being electrocuted. And he knows he's found Claud passed out when it's easily -20 out and the guy wasn't even frostbitten. Cross chews on a complimentary breadstick, so stuck in thought he's unaware of how inattentive he looks. HE IS DRUNKER THAN HE REALIZES.
• Frankie "'S that right...? Huh... ya know I's knowsh hhsome shteppersh in the orangsh district who cn helpa fella out wit figurin their vibe... huh.. they mighta not shtuch aroun' thish long though.... huh.... maybe I c'n lookshinta it fer ya..." The kid’s ok…whata goddamn relief… Aw, and the kid had a cute smile..... huh. "...herre, d'ya needsh a refill? Howabout food, Mishter Claud, ya gotsh enough ah that?" He moves the bread away from Cross and over to Claud.
• Cross is quickly plummeting into pickled zone, having forgotten he could contribute to the conversation and simply listening. Survives cold, not bothered by Frankie's vibe, ... still took punches to the face like a normal person... uhh. Hmm. Wow he'd had a lot of food. He combats this with more alcohol. "I might assk uber... erm. About zhose contacts. Help's good."
• Claud is shocked and flattered, "That would be... Yeah, I really should. I can't keep running from it. Having someone to help me would be swell, thank you Mr. Valentine." He smiles again when the other man starts fussing over him, "Oh, thank you no, I've had so much to eat already, thank you." He'd barely touched his drink since the last refill, forgotten in the confusion. Mostly he just really wanted to see Frankie relaxed and at ease again. But he'd never voice this in a million years.
• Frankie
"Alsright then, ifn yer good..." He sinks back into his seat and sips. "Ssho.. yer vibe hurtshya... ya know, mine ushed ta do that, but yea, thessse.. I helped thesse ladess... no... ladiesh helped me out'a ton, well, yearshback- No doubt they c'n helpya..." If they're still around... maybe not... Frankie slowly realizes he might be getting the guy's hopes up.... "But theysh probablyss long gone by now. SShorry.... Em... hm.... Ya shhaid fonk don't work.... ever triiyed Jive?? Little ah that, maybe ya can ecshperimrnt wit yer abilahties??" Even drunk, Frankie knew a vibe should be explored thoroughly. Could make the guy's life a whole lot easier, right? But...then again.... it could lead to so much worse..... "em.." Frankie's face goes dark again.
• Cross
perks up, as much as one can, at the mention of jive and fonk. "hmm?" Oh good fucking god this food was too rich why did he order 'surprise me'. He is dozing here and he's not even as drunk as he could be by now.
• Claud "Well if they helped you... maybe you could teach me?" Oh god, wait, why did he say that. Well... it was true wasn't it? He needed to stop running and start getting his life in order. "I--I mean, if you have time, and if you want to." He shrinks back, sheepishly. "I've tried jive... I've tried a lot of stuff, and that's caused problems of its own. Even if those ladies aren't around anymore, I know I gotta do somethin." he smiles reassuringly at Frankie. Hey, no, don't be sad. :c
• Cross holy shit did he just lever an appointment with Frankie and Claud to get Claud to learn vibe control. HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW HE WAS THIS CLEVER BUT THIS IS FASCINATING AND ENTERTAINING. He hiccups quietly to himself, either too alcoholically relaxed to speak or too smart to try.
• Frankie loses all traces of brooding, and his ears go red at the proposition "I ain't zaclty qwallified fer thaat kina thing.... huh..." He looks down, smiling sheepishly himself, and the gold light comes back up. "’D be 'n honor Mishter Claud. A goddamn honor!" he says with intense, drunken enthusiasm. "N... yea... I'd fuckin, like, make time fer that! That sshitsh important! Family 'bove anytin else, kiddo!" The Don would understand if he couldn't make an appointment or two, surely, he thinks hazily. "S'yea... shome'a the shhit out there... welll yea, it’sh dang'rous- ya know I can't even touch jive??" He laughs uproariously at this. "There ain't nothisnsh a replshe.... repl... shhhit - re-pla-sh-men-t fer practish an unershtantin." He says somberly, waving his empty glass for emphasis.
• Claud smiles, happy to see the light coming back, that seemed to be a good sign. But at the mention of 'family' he panics internally, OH SHIT HOW COULD HE FORGET THAT HE WASN'T IN THE MAFIA. Just, just play it cool man, what Frankie didn't know couldn't hurt either of them, right? He's relieved when the conversation wanders away from the subject, maybe he wouldn't even remember in the morning. "You can't use it? Does it make you sick? I-if you don't mind my asking."
• Cross Frankie can't touch jive.... "I can giff a helpf too. I'd... y'knnow me." trouble and a help. Yup. He's nearly forgotten his cigar, oh pleasant! He wanted a smoke. His offer for help is directed at Claud, though, really, learning about vibes and helpin people learn about themselves was ... he was all over that shit like, like, you don't even. Like butter on these fucking god tier breadsticks. He knew coming here was a great idea.
• Frankie "Haha-naaaa.... ya knowshhow like, ya takesh jivesh and it’sh like... whassit like... um... it killshyer vibe, righ'???" Frankie laughs as he discusses a very vital fact about himself that he had desperately tried to keep any potential enemies from knowing. We're all drunk Mafioso here, right? Hahaha. "Well ya, shooo... my vibeslike... lectric... n... that’sh like, that’sh how I run, kina.... it’sh like.... im'a whassit... shumthin what ya plug in to'a wall.... but if ya unplug me, I shdon't work, right?? KhaaHAHAAAAHA" he laaaaughs and lauuughs. Tears run down his cheeks.
• Cross offers helpful words to fill in the mad-libs that is Frankie's speech, "Die elektrizitat ist... wie... deinnn Herz." He thumps his hand at his own chest helpfully.
• Claud's grin fades as Frankie kinda, loses it a little. But whatever, they were drunk and tired and discussing some very sensitive personal stuff. Again he gets the urge to pat the man on the back but... no, better not risk causing a scene again. He leans on his arms to quell the impulse. "I guess that makes sense, the human body does use electricity... hadn't thought of that..." How much of his body's systems had been irreparably joined with the functioning’s of his vibe? Did this mean he could never truly leave the island...?
• Cross "OH scheisse erm, sorry. It'ss. It's like your heart..." he trails as Claud speaks. His hands return to drink-acquiring autopilot as he listens in his little blissfully thought-laden bubble.
• Cross this was dark stuff, dark indeed. And he hadn't shared nearly so much of his own vibe, not in words. Frankie had a decent enough idea, and Claud knew he could heal.
• Claud "Yeah, yeah that..."
• Frankie wipes the tears of mirth away with a sleeve. He continues laughing, long after it stopped being funny- was it ever funny?? Frankie seems to think so- but he sort of composes himself. Manages to catch his breath, at least "Haaha haa- yeaa, you wouln't believe whatsh got electrishithty init, kiddoo. Itsh kina nishe, ya know? S'like... .yer nottalone er shomethin...heeeh heeh hah...." He thumps his chest. "Yesh! My heart!" He puts a hand on Claud's and Cross's heart in turn. " But yersh too! It'sh like... it’sh like.... poetry er churchesh er shometin..." Frankie shines happily.
• Claud's eyes go wide again when Frankie touches him, it was like... well like electricity, but in all the best of ways. He has to lean really hard on his arms to keep himself from grabbing that hand back when it's removed. "Yeah..." he breathes, only half listening to what Frankie was saying. "That must be wonderful," he smiles, his head clearing somewhat, but, oh, there was his glow again, this was getting ridiculous.
• Cross wakes up a bit finally, gestures invading his little smoke-and-drink filled space. The music playing was rolling around the table like it was trying to get him to fall asleep on it, but nono. Frankie interruptions saving the day. Claud's doing something. "I vish mine... I vish I coult take from... y'know? It's. elektrizitat isn't... it's not alife." he's failing to find the words he wants in English. "Uhmm. Like you can take electrizity and nobody iss involfed. I can't... I need people fur... fur mine.” Well no, he doesn't need people for his vibe. Not unless he wants to hurt someone or himself. Cross imagines being able to feed his own masking somehow, it would be pleasant he thinks.
• Frankie "Awit sssooo ish, kiddo- and heey, yaknow I couldna done it when I firsh got me vibe?? Not'atall! Could be that yersh ish shometin jushash lovely, yeash? It's just like.... yer shoul, rright? And it lookshlike you gottabeatful soul kid~" Frankie sparkles... for a moment, it might seem that his enhancing vibe is trying to reach out to Claud.. but his attention is grabbed by Cross- "Whassat now?? Huh.. that’sh..." He tilts his head, trying to understand. "Cannya nottakaway sshhit from peoplesh...? that’sh like... that’sh like healin, Crossh! That'sh like, ... yer likea ssaint er shometin! Gawd ifn I wouldn't kill fer that kina vibe! But then I woulnhaveta!! Heeheaah!!!" He burst out laughing again, with the customary sparkles accompanying it.
• Claud Beautiful...? Claud's breath catches for a moment as he feels like there really was genuine intent behind those words. Could he dare let himself believe it? But then the feeling passes and he worries: but what if he doesn't? What if he's bad inside and his vibe is bad... He slumps back in his chair and lets himself float in the glow of Frankie's vibe, trying not to think. This was so much better than drugs.
• Cross sinks into the table, all elbows and hands kind of failing to find a place - one hand settles for fussing at his hair while his chin rests on an unused napkin. "Mmnotahealerrh..." It's barely audible as more than a general weak protest. Cross doesn't want to explain the technicalities and subsequently make the glitter go away. He knows those damn sparkles were Frankie's 'how much do I want to not kill you' barometer. MORE SPARKLES MEANT LESS KILLING OF CROSSES and he knows he's too drunk to fight right now. Not....... not without giving himself a good stab in the leg or something to wake up. He shakes his head awake. That was an awful idea, not in the restaurant! Cross'd never be allowed back in here! And THAT WOULD BE AWFUL.
• Frankie leans forward heavily, sloshing his drink as he peers owlishly at Cross amidst the glitter. "Whadya ssay? Din't catch th't lasst... er... thing... wassit... word? Yesh that." His vibe seems to want to grab at something right now- with his focus changed to Cross, it targets him instead, slowly creeping toward him, unbeknownst to Frankie.
• Cross sighs and wipes a hand along his cheek and jaw "I don't... I don't giff healingh, I take uhm.. I take... vas ist... harm." DAMAGE was the word he'd wanted, dammt. "I vish I could... just giff people zhe..good part. Fick ichh kann töten-" the last utterance is more to himself as he bumps his empty glass along the table by accident. "I don't like to give."
• Claud That... makes a lot of sense. That's probably why Cross' vibe seemed to disturb him, it was a disturbance. Not healing but taking the damage? On himself? Wow, that... sucked. "If it means anything, you've really helped me out with your vibe in the past." he plays with his own glass, staring at the liquid still inside it.
• Frankie
What....It takes a minute or two for Frankie to understand, even with the clearer explanation. "Nonono- but I mean... like- ya tookshaway my burnsat time... and in Fffoenikshesh apartment...? Dunno watshat ish ifnit ain't healin... Anya sshaid it wash goood feelinshlike whena broad- er shorry... whena lady goesshh at ya? So..." He looks to Claud when he speaks, causing his enhancing vibe to immediately redirect again. "D'you gettit? I dungettit??"
• Cross can feel it moving now, it's like that same fuzzy cling a staticky blanket gives you, only he doesn't sting himself the second he touches anything metal. "Nooo.... hmmn. Gott you guyss, I'm a masochist. Off course getting hurt's fun fur me. But. I should remmemer you zhat time und you made me giff zhe burns back... I don'." he thinks for a moment, SERIOUSLY QUESTIONING the odds these two would remember anything he said, "I don't. Like giving back. But I am glad zhat I haff proved of help to you bozh. Both."
• Claud gets uncomfortable every time they bring up their preference in... interactions... with dames. God, could they just cut that out, he didn't need to know. He turns a little towards Frankie when he addresses him, can barely start stammering a reply when the full force of Frankie's enhancing vibe washes over him, "I think I ghhheeee--ohhhwow," his eyes roll back for a second and he blinks a few times in quick succession trying to bring them back to focus. "I, aahhmmm... What was I saying?" he tries to laugh it off. Oh that was embarrassing. But it felt wonderful.

Claud and then Claud ruined everything. Again.

Frankie NO MAEL >:I

• Frankie turns to Cross, his vibe simply following his gaze now. It wasn't usually this fickle, but the group had come to the end of the second- ...third? -bottle of whiskey, so perhaps it was understandable- A waiter replaces it before Frankie can cause another scene. "Hawww- aww welll that’sh jush causheeyer nottacompletee shhoullesss monss’er, Crossss. Thasha nishe thin. Thoughhtya were, yaknow??” He peers at Cross, his face impassive. “But shhometimesh vibeshhjust sheemta only be gud ffferhurrtin peopleshyalove, righ.. i's jush liffee.." He'd forgotten where he was going with this.... "Um... yesh and.....Well ishlike, lectrishity, right??? Whatwash itfer except beinsshomekina humin tasher?? But no, youshcan fix ssshit! Ish fuckin amashin, like I shaid!!" And Claud's doing... what’s he doing? "Yoush ok??? I dunno whatshyer sssaiyun, notattall I'm 'fraid?"
• Cross works hard to keep the hiccupping at bay, he can't even work out what the vibe is doing but it's quite pleasant so it can stay. "I bet... zhaaaat. All zhe robotss are lovingh yourr vibe." If anybody's been paying attention, the amount of drink he's downing is kind of incredible considering he's the tiniest one at the table. WHY DID HE EAT SO MUCH DINNER now he can’t fit more drink in, he just kind of comments it to himself. He's a bit more lost than he ought to be. Frankie's vibe is playin' with him damnit.
• Claud leans on one hand and closes his eyes contently, "Oh, I'm great thanks, how are you?" he mumbles, and then Frankie's vibe washed over him again. Fuckin' fantastic.
• Frankie "weelshya... I c'n pweor... pwoowr... pow-wer sshhit shhumtimesh.... but I'shjusash easssy breakshit. Ya know, tookme two fffuckin yearsh af'er V-day 'fore Icoul' touch 'lectrics widdout breakin noshin?? Wash bullsssshit, lemmetellsya" He opens the new bottle. One for Cross, one for... oh Claud hadn’t touched his? "Thisai’t yer cuppa tea, pall? We c’n orter sometin elsh ifn ya wan?" He pours for himself, and catches the eye of a waiter, oblivious to his vibe’s effect on his companions.
• Cross downs his so quickly he just sets it back down for Frankie to fill again. Probably before Frankie notices. Two for Cross~
• Frankie muzzily looks at his full glass, then Cross' empty one. "Didi pour myshelff firs?? How rrude, I'm sssorry" He pours Cross another.
• Cross waves a hand a little weakly "Neinn, don't vorry about ih."
• Claud waves his hand dismissively, "Nah it's not that, I seem to have reached m' fill of drink fer th' night, thanks though." He had something much better, now if he could just keep Frankie's attention on him... "So whadid these ladies have ya do t' learn t' control yer vibe?"
• Frankie sips his drink. He seems to be alternating between downing it in one and sipping it with dignity- "Hwa-? Ahwelll itsha kina a longshtory... I dunno...They jushadda lotta goo’thingshta say... ya knowlike, like whenyer little,anya don't know notin'bout notin, n' then ya go ta massss an thetellsya bout ssssoulshan goodn' evil n' Job, ‘n ssshit likeshat? They were likesh.... vibepriesshses ershometin... cept birdshh canna be priestsss... why ish that anyhow?? Nefer unershtood that..." Frankie get sidetracked entirely, but his vibe is still flowing freely, so Claud’s question still has the desired effect.
• Cross "Cuzz women," is all he manages to say before half-dozing on the tabletop. He's still listening but... he's dozing fast. Big dinners and Cross, plus free alcohol? Heh. Whoops.
• Claud half listens to what Frankie's saying, but really he's just enjoying the glow. "Ssso like, yas gotta go ta church? I'm not really a religious man... Hay Cross," he pokes him, "Man wake up, yer fallin' asleep." Cross instinctively sits up taller in his seat , cigar still clenched carfully in his teeth "Unh? uups, sorry bouh' zhat."
• Frankie misunderstands. "Whazzat? me? Naaaa, naaa.. na. notany mmore, nope. nope. I mean...ishlike... ifyergoin ta Hhellany how, wyshya wanna go'nheaaarshhum basstar'd ttelllya abouthow badd it’sh gonnabeee, RIGH??" he leans towards Claud, gesturing wildly to make his point.
• Claud frowns at the table again, "Oh, that's..." he tries to stifle a yawn, "... true." Frankie smelled heavily of alcohol and was obviously upset, but he couldn't help but lean towards him as well. "Bu-wha, hey, waitaminute, waddya mean goin ta hell?" He shows genuine concern.
• Frankie "…Huh? Oh- well, sats jush washgonna happens'all. Yep." Sparks mix with his glowing. Some burn tiny holes in the chair as he settles back. He makes a grab for the bottle. He misses. "Was shhaposed ta go der 'ssin the war, yaknoww? Hada ...washit.... the ting ya make-?" He looks to Cross, then Claud, at a loss. "-Wit doctorsh?? Whatshat ting called..."
• Cross "S'not efen a real place." He mumbles to himself, commenting on the conversation as if watching a show more than- well, being social was hard for Cross to get right without much effort. He snaps a hand out to stop the whiskey from getting knocked over, before helping it into Frankie's hand without touching it. He didn't want a burned table on the bill. "Wasss ar'you talkingh uber, Frankie?"
• Claud tries to think REALLY HARD but, nope, he didn't know the answer, "Gimme more clues?"
• Frankie grasps the hooch at last. He isn't sure if he can pour it into the glass.... na,it'd be fine. Frankie reaches for it, but misses that as well. "Fffuckn..." He looks up at Cross. "Wha....? Whadya..mean... um?" He stares down at his hand- bottle? When did he get the bottle. Frankie drinks from it. OH! RIGHT! He'd been telling them about that- "Ok- ssheee-" He wipes his mouth on his hand- where'd his glove go? Whatever, anyways- "The thsingsh... wit'da docterssh... ishlike a…a... meetin'?? Had one athoshe... wit'a lady.... lofed'her moren.... moren.... cann’ even shhayit...." Frankie's light envelopes the entire table, and keeps spreading, slowly. Frankie drinks.
• Claud has to kinda, lean forward on his folded arms and close his eyes when Frankie starts glowing even more intensely. He concentrates on keeping quiet and can only half process what the man is saying. Someone he loved? Meet in hell? He finally gets his head together, "Bu--But waddabout all that stuff ya said 'bout, 'bout yer vibe and yer soul... yer notta bad persun mistr Valentine..."
• Cross "Ohhvait, he meanss appoi'ments. Fick Ich hasss..." he trails, he sounds so far gone. "Vait you had ann appoinment mit hell? Vhat - hahaha. I don't belief I've... seen you... you shtart your own heart. You can'h go to hell Frankiee." okay less gone perhaps than originally assumed. Cross's arm snakily goes for the bottle as soon as Frankie leaves it unattended again. There's that warm buzz again. His own vibe's masking was just lapping it up. Oh good goddamn this is like what he was thinking about earlier, feeding his vibe something besides injuries. It bothered him that all this comfortable was making him want to sleep. He'd just wake up again painfully if he did. ...unless Frankie's vibe somehow sustained his own past consciousness.......... Cross loses track of the present conversation.
• Frankie "Yesh!! ATSH ESACTLY ITCROSSH!! AN APOIMEN!" He shouts and beams with success, vibe filling the entire room, giving the place a ethereal look. The few dancers braving the awful music begin to perform breathtakingly beautiful moves, and a faint, slightly befuddled smile drifts over the faces of many patrons. "Ishactlyit, Crish...yas hitta nail ona thing... wassit. Nail. HAH." He turns excitedly, too fast, and ends up kind of leaning on ... who wazzit... Claud. Right. "Isssayya lotta thingsh kiddo... but. Uh...well... ishlike... dereshalota tings you cn fergive... anshhometingsya jush canna..."
• Claud groans softly and leans back on Frankie, his mind momentarily unhinging and going off to float about someplace in the stratosphere. "But... but..." He can no longer even string two words together, let alone a whole sentence. Basking in Frankie's aura was one thing, but making physical contact was exponentially better.
• Cross watches the weird game of domino-topple, looking at Frankie, then to Claud. Both of them are just spacing out. His own head a swimming haze as well. Everything seemed so exceptionally beautiful, even the smoke idly building a lazy haze around his head. "Uhmmmmmm....." he isn't sure what to say. He waits a moment, trying hard to observe this situation for any signs of Bad. Then he gives up and reaches across the table to fill himself more than one ample glass of whiskey while the other two don't care. He'd learned plenty tonight, time to just take advantage of the freebies.
• Frankie drops his head onto Claud's shoulder. It really was too much effort to keep up on his own. His vibe slowly comes back to him, as he is no longer speaking of his long lost lady love... it reminded him of a song... couldn't do that here though... Hm.. Frankie shoots out an long arm, and somehow manages to snatch the bottle from Cross in one try, not even looking up. By the time he stops drinking, spilling only the slightest amount, his light has pulled nearly completely back into him. "Heeey....heyCllauud." He turns his head slightly to look up, still leaning on the man. "Youefer herdissss g'y plllay???"

• Claud acclimates a little to the energy flood, and slowly comes back to earth when Frankie reins himself in, blinking a few times to clear his head, "I ahh, whu...? You play, Cross? I dinn' know that. Waddya play?

• Cross's most recent addition to the alcohol fueltank has rendered him smiling like the cat that got the cream — and resting on his arm on the tabletop. He's not far off from asleep... actually he might just be asleep.

• Valentine "Thishhh basstard playsh oneahellava mean piaaana. Voice aaain't baadd eitherrr~ " He looks at Cross with genuine affection, and nudges him- he's trying to be gentle, but it's a bit heavy handed- "Hey- hey Crosssh wakeup. Wakup alrighttt? Yacanna ssleeps in hyeere."

• Cross burbles something vaguely similar to a protest, pretty sure 'its too early' and 'phoenix nooo' were mashed up in there somewhere. He lifts his head a little confused. "mmh? Oh. Dih zzhe bill arrive?"

• Claud mumbles a soft "I'd like to hear that some time..." and then chortles when Frankie prods at Cross. At this point he and Frankie are holding each other up, one leaning on the other for support, and vice-versa, and he's slipped into a blissful state of being warm, comfortable and well fed. "Oh, is it time to go already?" he sounds a little disappointed, but mostly just sleepy.

• Valentine "Oh... wah.. arewe leaaaviin??" He's just been trying to wake Cross up, but whats all this about the bill now?? Frankie tries to go for his money... his hand snakes past his wallet, towards the actual cred, but his hand is blocked by Claud. Frankie pats Claud, forgetting what he was doing. "Wasn... um." Oh.. he had work still..."Issss it??"

• Cross shrugs his shoulders "mMMmm." He doesn't know. "Vait you guys vere ashknnnnn mee...." he stares down at himself, his cigar's managed to get ash all over his arm and a bit of a burn mark. He dusts it off with a mindless gesture. "uber.... oh music. Ja, I playy." a liiittle voice in the back of his head was amazed nobody at this table was fighting yet.

• Claud doesn't seem to notice Frankie patting him, if the gesture had meaning he didn't pick up on it. "You should play somethin, they gotta piano we could use?" he cranes his neck around to see what the band was doing. "Damn it's been a while since I heard some good piana."

• Frankie "ohmaan yer gonnaaalove it Claaud-" He gives up on fishing out his cred, and tries to wake Cross again. He prods him more forcefully. "C'moon ggdaaammit, youuus gottassshow des'e idiotss reaal myuusssic, sssee? Haaahaaaha"
  

• Cross "Nahhhhhhhhhh... zhese.... guys don't.... vant me on pianooh." he flaps a hand about but it's floundering more than anything. Holy crap you guys are weirdly nice when drunk, and I am going to play bashful just because

• Frankie "Loookit whdda thesh basssterdssh know Cross?!" He shouts, suddenly enraged that these fancy-shmancy idiots who didn't even play decent music would deny his friend his performance. He leans heavily back on Claud, but cranes his neck, trying to spot an employee to yell at for this affront.

• Cross grins, hand going to his face at a loss of what to do once it gets there. He kind of awkward facetouches for a moment before re-discovering his cigar and going with that. In spite of all this, he was probably swaying a lot less in his chair than Frankie, who... seems to be meercatting for somebody. "Ahhh, fffffffffffffffffine. Butt..."
• Cross "But but yo'hhgot to tell me vhat to playh."

• Claud is a little taken aback by Frankie's sudden outburst, and he shifts to better support the extra weight. He thinks of piano songs he likes, tries to think of upbeat ones, "I dunno, can you play any ragtime?"

• Frankie is immediatly placated when Cross agrees, feeling that somehow it's the result of them being given permission...? Was it...? Maybe. Didn't matter. Ragtime, man. That mattered. "Awwasshucksss, ragttime'd jussbe ssweell... do ya playysh it?? I rememmmber ya did... ? Didya?... I'd jusht loveit..."

• Cross is not entirely sure what just happened regarding SOMEHOW having piano permissions now? "Hehh, hahaha Ragtimmme? Pshh..." his confidence is exaggerated by slowed gestures, shaking his head and grinning so happily. "'course Ihh c'n play zhaat." just. kindly point me towards the piano.
• Claud squints and looks for the band. He points in the general direction, "Look, they're takin a break, now's yer chance."

• Cross didn't come in here wanting to start shit, but.... well.... he'd drunked his drink and whatever it was you did with lobster - possibly wrestled - eaten, whatever. He had little to lose if he got them kicked out now.
• Cross's grin lights up even wider, deviously "ohscheissletsdozhisss..." he gets up from his chair HES GONNA DO IT.

• Frankie grins like the drunk idiot he is, still glowing lightly. "Claaud- Cllllaud thisshish goonna be- Goooddd you doneveeen knowwww- itsh jus- aw ffffuck-" Claud needs to know what a treat he's in for, but Frankie really cannot manage it. Oh well. "Ook ok. Ok. Clauuud iddonoo... I gggootta dannnsh to thiish, isshhh jus- I GOTTAA ARIHHT?? Yoooushhuld toooo. ok yesh. Ok." He makes an attempt to get up. HM. He makes another attempt. After the fourth, he gets up off the ground, laughing and wobbling.

• Claud grins, Frankie's enthusiasm, and vibe, contagious. "It's that good huh? Whoop, there you go," he helps push Frankie into standing. He gets up as well, not to dance, but to be there if... hm, when, Frankie fell over in a drunken heap. Not that he was too steady himself. He weaves his way after the sparkling, glowing man, keeping a respectable distance.

• Cross most definitely has a comical amount of swagger in his step once he's standing. He somehow makes being drunk almost pass for lazy dancing as he passes the people on the dancefloor. Most of them are returning to their seats for a break until the band come back. Cross pays them no attention, he's spotted his goal for the evening. Somebody really ought to have taken notice, but without an ounce of sneakiness to his movement, someone likely ignored him a second too late just on body language. He drops himself in front of those keys like he fucking belongs there, and starts playing. And yes, he actually remembered "ragtime" in between his chair and this one.

• Frankie is completely oblivious to the chaos that is being caused by Cross. All he know's is that the music suddenly became 1000x better, and that's all he fucking cares about- Well, almost all. Frankie miraculously makes it to the dance floor once again, only needing to use one or two tables for support, and begins to Cake Walk.
  
• Frankie performs flawlessly, if ridiculously, despite his clear inability to walk normaly

• Claud chortles and leans against a wall to watch. X)

• Cross is rocking out like nobody's business. It's obvious he's drunk. It's also obvious he's very good at what he does. One of the staff members attempts to tell Cross he uh, really can't do that, and needs to return to his seat. Cross doesn't listen, protests "But ve're all haffing more funn!!" and plays louder in response. Patrons seem generally uncertain whether they should be mad or not, but a few seem not to care and simply start dancing. It kind of snowballs beautifully from there.

• Frankie would totally fight anyone who tried to remove Cross, but for better or for worse, he's too caught up dancing. Frankie laughs. Some nearby patrons watching Frankie's antics laugh too. Frankie notices that they're noticing him. In his hazy state, this just seems like the greatest thing that ever happend. As he moves and shakes and gallops around the floor, the room fills again with his vibe, this time as a vast amount of sparkles.

• Claud laughs and claps, God he wanted this to never end. Even realizing that it would eventually end, he couldn't feel sad. Not right now at least. He was too comfortable, too vicariously high.

• Cross is long long past ragtime and he's playing whatever comes to mind now, just. All sorts of classy upbeat stuff, and maybe he sneaks in some rick astley, seriously nobody is stopping him anymore. Oh god how drunk is he? Not that he's worried, it's just that he wanted to get up and dance but remembered he had to attend to the playing.

• Frankie is having too good a time, wobling and gracefully gliding and hopping across the floor in turn. He cackles at each song change, too pickled to miss the ragtime. And though the dancers around him are performing beautifully, many even showing their own impressive vibe displays- but anyone with eyes can't take them off the glowing man, and Frankie is doing his drunken best to keep his adoring audience entertained. His glowing intensifies, and with a look of hazy concentration and some very tight moves, his vibe begins to form dancing patterns of it's own. Fuck everything, he thinks. I am the greatest bastard that ever lived. He whoops in triumph.

• Claud starts to doze leaning against the wall, the music and the rambunctious noise of the dancers fading away, Frankie's lights shining through his half-closed eyelids. He was just too comfortable and all this excitement had worn him out. =w=

• Cross is going nuts on the piano, HE MISSED THIS SO MUCH - it wasn't the crowd's attention he loved, (though free drinks and the occasional phone number on a napkin are always welcome), it was getting lost in his own music he loved. Having an audience just made it that much deeper to get lost in. He plays a much slower song, which is sure to get a reaction.

• Frankie laughs manicaly between panting—this was just too good, if only life could just be dancing, audiences, and hot, swingin music, 24/7—He breals for a moment when Cross finishes a song- maybe some water... or more hooch—But he gets distracted with the complete change of music style—Oh daaamn this would be great fora partner deal—And indeed, many of the patrons have grabbed their dinner guests in preparation. Frankie looks around panicked—if he was all alone for this, the night would be ruined completely. Frankie's vibe sweeps back to him as he begins to feel intense lonelyness among all the partnered dancers.

• Claud wakes up THE INSTANT Frankie's vibe leaves him. It was as jolting as cold water. Filled with an inexplicable intense worry for the other man, he makes his way to his side as fast as he could stumble through the crowd. "Hey, hey you ok?" he asks, not sure why he's whispering, touching him on the arm, partially for balance.

• Cross picks up on the loneliness, and he has no idea what to do with it. Feels like just after the dance war. This slow song just got a little melancholy. Beautiful though.

• Frankie wipes sweat from his face- or tries to. It seems his movements that aren't a part of dancing are still clumsily drunk, and he smacks himself in the face somehow. "Whhhups..." Ok. Gonna sit down. And drink. And maybe sulk a little, whatever. Was his goddamn life, if he wanted to sulk, people could just fuckin deal with it-?! Frankie whirls when he's touched- WHO THE FU- Claud- "Ohhhh heeeysthereee kiddo! YOusss um...whatsit... you havinnna time? A goodone. I meaant?" Frankie smiles brightly- Oh god. The sad music hits him like a brick. Frankie swallows hard and tries not to sob, still grinning.

• Cross FEELS LIKE A BRICK. Sturdy, dependable, probably about as red in the face, and not moving from this piano chair.
• Cross except somebody has offered to purchase him a thank-you drink, and he's only getting wobblier even if he hasn't noticed particularly. Weirdly his piano playing seems only barely scratched.

• Claud knows that look all too well, and he tries to keep up a cheerful expression, but his concern is very obvious. "Yeah I am! You were amazing. ... Hey, you wanna sit down? Yer lookin' kinda spent."

• Frankie "I waasn doneee dansssin... um. waasssI? I sssshtull got worrk yaknow, Crosssh. CRossh? No. Yer not... hum. WAIT!! WAIT WAIT!! You thoughttt IWash 'maziiin?" His grin loses the tinge of misery.

• Cross has no idea there's even a restaurant around him. He feels as if he's asleep. You know, comfortable and too heavy to move much. Or maybe just detatched, his hands are going along playing pretty fast. He can hear the music in his head so he already knows where they're going to move next. Easy, see?
• Cross he's sliding off the edge of his chair slowly, he hasn't noticed yet

• Claud is surprised that Frankie is surprised, "Well, yeah, you lit up the whole restaurant, and you danced for... I don't know, like twenty minutes straight. Wait, did you say you still have work? Mr. Valentine you gotta get home, you're in no state to be..." he's cut off by a semi-discordant sound from the piano as Cross fell off the piano bench. "Oh god... hang on, wait right there..." Claud stumbles over to Cross' side. Looks like their time was quickly coming up.

• Cross lays on the floor, a little baffled. When'd this happen?
• Cross sits himself up, nearly tips so far backward he falls again, clawing his arms in the air to regain his balance. He turns, a few people are staring and Claud and his twin are coming over. "Shorry- zhatzz' all folkssh!" yup. Signing off with style.

• Frankie begins to shine softly when Claud describes his own dancing. "Yesssh I'm onna joobshya sssee washhhjush herescausesshome one wassh followan-WHATSSH THAT?!" The music cuts off, and the dancing patrons look around, some laughing, some very visibly irritated. When Frankie looks at Claud, the man has dissapeared. "Oooh kidsh gottta Haaalor.... No. Harldo- no.. H... Brown vibe..." He mutters his epiphany to no one. Oh.. He should get going... he should say goodbye... not like that bastard Brown... but if Claude couldn't be bothered to say goodbye before fuckin goin invisible like Mr. Brown, why should Frankie?! Frankie starts to spark, and he wobbles slowly towards what he thinks is the exit.

• Claud hauls Cross to his feet and gets him semi-standing only in time to see Frankie fighting with the two-way kitchen door. Oh for the love of... He works his way through the crowd again, trying to reign Cross in (no easy task) at the same time. "Mr. Valentine! Over here!" he calls when they're within earshot.

• Cross was QUITE CONTENT to take a nap under the piano thank you!!! <Ahhh.... what... let go of meee. I AM FINE!> he flashes a huge grin, he sure as hell doesn't look very stable. His feet kind of remind him of ants on water. He sounds a little baffled, a little WEH and a lot of giggling

• Frankie fuck this door, I mean, why would they even make it sofuckin impossble to - Frankie nearly falls over when a waiter comes out. He begins laughing, and the waiter moves away from him quickly. Frankie tries the door again, and is about to enter the kitchen when the music starts again. Gaddamit they played some shit. Huh- Frankie turns back to see Claud hauling Cross. He stares confusedly, but stumbles to meet them.

• Cross <Shit you guys.... guys guys weeeee need to pay the ... restaur- THE BIlLS. HAHAHA WOW - wait this isn't the way out...> he hangs onto Claud like a life raft.

• Claud has no idea what Cross' saying, but at least he didn't sound upset. Ah good, here comes Frankie. Claud gets Frankie on his other side, and together they make their way towards the exit as fast as three inebriated men can. They're stopped after a few paces by a waiter with the bill. Claud hopes one of his companions is cognizant enough to fish out some creds because he didn't have anywhere NEAR that much. o__o

• Frankie leans heavily on Claud, hardly aware of anything around him. But he protests the delay in their departure."Lloookit- lookit no. We cannassstop, Igodda gota worrkssyaseee???" He peers at the host, who looks rather nervous, but also resolved. "Whadya... ok.. whad." Frankie looks around wildly at the restaurant, and comes back a little closer to earth. "Ok iiissgotcha. This. gotsthissssh. Yep." He fishes in his coat and pulls out his wallet. It's empty, and the host gains a look or annoyance- Frankie shushes the man, and pulls out a large sum of cred, flourishing it like he's doing a magic trick. The host sighs but takes the money. Frankie grins.

• Cross was looking for his own wallet, but mostly this ends in patting his own ass, he can't get it out of the pocket fast enough before Frankie handles the situation like magic. He points and laughs at the silly show of credit paying "HAHTHaSSGREAT. Heyy, uhm... was... danke fur dieseessssssssssssshahahaha sheiss, ZHE PIANO VAS EXCHELLENT." he bumbles vocally.

• Claud nods politely to the staff and mumbles his thanks and apologies. Pulling Cross and Frankie close to him, all three managed to get through the doors and out into the night air. The coolness was refreshing and he breathed a sigh of relief that that was over with. At least out here they'd just be three drunks on the street, and not really bothering anyone. Ok. Now what.

• Cross is stuck to Claud now (not that he's complaining), ... actually he's just babbling in very disconnected german again.

• Frankie breathes deeply. The cold felt great after the warm stuffyness inside, but it doesn't help to sober him. "Allrighh darrlinshh, you been jusssht wonerful, butiiiiiiiim fraid i gotta gota job- no. Work. Da's right. Yea." He hugs both of them in turn, before backing up and attempting a bow.

• Frankie bows gracefully

• Cross watches Frankie bow and half-expects the guy to keep going right into the sidewalk. "Jeeeeze mann how drunk are you??"
• Cross can't manage much more than laugh and lean heavily on Claud after this. "Ikneww you vere gut to bring vithhth."
• Cross is accidentally rubbing his face into Claud's shoulder as if he's somewhere between shy and a cat.

• Claud "Mr. Valentine, are, are you sure you'll be ok? I really think you ought to just call it off for tonight." What the--Cross quit that. He pokes Cross' cheek and chin in an effort to at least subdue the snuggling.

• Cross this does not appear to help, but it does produce the silliest little giggle. "Ahh!"
• Cross stops for a moment, rolling his head in place to face Frankie. "Ja mann, you'rehhh. You're vashted." he points loosely in the right direction. What he said.

• Frankie "No druuuner then you, Crosh" He says accusingly. "Hah, yeash kiddill be ffiine ya sseee. Do thishhyalllllaa timee, hah. Yesh" He completes the bow with absolute perfection, but as he stands, he verrry slowly topples onto the wall. " Cana caalllnotin off. Righttt? You caana be late ta wooork, right???? No matter how muchhya hate it?? RIGHT??" He laughs loudly into the night.

• Claud This was... painful. Sighing he shuffled towards Frankie again, "Hey, come on, at least let us get you where you're going... you got anyone you can call?"

• Cross "Ghoshtbustersss...?" he offers, giggling at his own joke.

• Claud tries SO HARD not to laugh. .)3(.

• Frankie face goes.... kind of serious... it's hard, he keeps breaking into giggling. "Nonnonono- Ssssee. I can't.. it's sssssekrit, yasseee??? Jushh me an the night' He throws up his hands at the absurdity.

• Claud nudges Cross in the ribs. "I'd just feel better about leaving you here if you weren't alone." He frowns, concerned.

• Cross makes a strangled snort noise at that nudge NO NOT MY RIBS. He frowns a bit, not out of annoyance, but in realization that the conversation has taken a serious turn and he ought to be listening.

• Frankie "What're ya..... Hah- Ohhh man... less you know whereee Mr. um.." He was drunk, but you did not drop your partner's name to strangers, even if you had difficutly telling ground from air."Um no. Issok sssse,seee seee, i work alllll by myefl normallly, rigiiiiight? Isgooood, I doooit alla time, din't isaay?" He leans on the wall and grins.

• Cross "Sssokayh," he flaps an arm again and tries to get his legs untangled so he doesn't have to lean on Claud, "i don' need th know a name annyvayhh." HE WINKS.

• Claud Can't make decisions on his ooownnnn /.m.\ Cross you are drunk at all the worst times. "Alright... But you call us if you need help Mr. Valentine, you hear? An' I apologize for distractin' you from your work, I didn' know."

• Frankie "Hhahaaaha- Oh maaanakidarya cuteee. Didisshhay dat alreaty?? Hah!Wellya arre. AN DON"T YOU GO APLOGIIZIN NONE NEITER, RIGHT?" Frankie looks mad, but he continues to sparkle. Eventually he breaks down aand laughs again. "Yosben tooo damnkind, ya goon! HADaaaa.... wassit.... um.." He pauses....." Evenin! Lovely one! Really!"

• Cross "Fickhh. howwr ve gongehn... gehen ... how are we to be going home claud." BUS?

• Claud blushes and looks mortified, then he smiles when Frankie looks pleased. "I did as well, much better than expected. Take care Mr. Valentine, it was lovely to meet you." Then turning somewhat towards Cross, "Uh, I guess we'll just take the bus home, should be fine. You wanna walk a little bit? Get some fresh air first?"

• Frankie "wasssaat? I in't spect nothina you... wellnonothasssa lie, yer wit crosshhhan I don likehim too much...." He busts out laughing again. "Siiddiotic, I knooowrighttt?? Butyeaaa... um.. LOVELY MEETINYA!" He calls as he stumbles away into the dark, falling over at one point, but in general making..... headway?

• Cross "AHHAah ja youtoomann, he's.... zhis kids cool." he goes to noogie Claud but forgets when asked where he'd like to go to get home. "UHHH."
• Cross honestly believes the bus will just make him sick. "Can ve valkkk... for... Jus. Jus valking I'd like zhat it's nice."

• Claud smiles a little at the compliment. He worriedly watches Frankie stumble off, only half listening to Cross. "Uh, yeah, yeah sure, that'd be great." Reluctantly he turns and they start off in the general direction of home.
• Claud has no idea where they are :|

• Cross hiccups profoundly.

• Claud isn't sure how a hiccup could be profound, but there it was <8|

• Cross this isn't thoughtful, but he's reflecting on the night's events. Good times. Piano, Claud and Frankie totally socialized, he learned.... things... he'll remember later it always comes back later...

• Claud slowly works Cross towards the bus stop. It's slow going.

• Cross it's a miracle Cross is even standing, though nobody's going to praise him for the miracleworking. "Hey. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhheeeey. Claud Vhere... fuck Frankie has a car."

(And then we decided the restaurant was called "Rhythm and Roast" with the "Tuned and Toast" breakfast special. It was St. Patty's day, 2/3rds of us were drunk ok)

• Claud "He WHAT!?" oops, sorry, tries to keep his voice down. "He's not going to try to DRIVE it is he?" D8 He starts to get them turned around.

• Frankie thinks about how swell that whole shindig was..... gosh, maybe they'd all be alble ta get toether again sometime... maybe if he weren't working, they could go to a club after, too. One with hot tunes. Jeeze that;d be swell... but... oh hey.. they'd needa car.... frankie had onea those now, he thinks smuggly. ......Did he order it for them tonight?? @Driver: Plzzzz pzicj up vCross and Friend @ Rhythm & Roasts opls ih u dont min?"

• Cross holds Claud close, and gestures to the GREAT BEYOND. "Dude he hass. Zhis.... a driver. HE's like fuckin Kato fur drunksh. BUT INSHTEAD OF GREEN HORNET iuhh...nnno, he's just. Purple und badass." he;s evidently lost in his own little world but be damned if he isnt going to try and share this place with Claud.
• Cross also my hand is fascinating LOOK AT IT GO it's more fluid than he recalls.

Frankie's car pulls up to the restaurant. It isn't one of his gaudy purple ones either, since it's in Mafia territory and he doesn't have to prove nothin.

• Tom It is dark, and Tom is uncertain, and only saw what might be who the boss called 'Cross' once. Honestly, Tom was more worried about Valentine, considering the level of intelligible of the text, and the fact that he knew the drunk's schedule... He contemplates all this while following a redhead and a skunk-stripped gentleman he assumes is Cross.

• Claud desperately tries to follow Cross' train of ramblings. He makes out most of it. Frankie, car, driver, everything would be ok. He nods, "Alright, I think I understand..." he gets distracted again when he realizes there's a car following them. Oh god, oh god, Cross was already in the mafia, who were these guys? He mumbles, "Cross we're being followed what do we do?"

Black 40s limo follow

• Frankie, meanwhile, trudges/stumbles onwards. to his peril.

• Cross "BUuuhhhH?" he tries to turn to see what the fuck Claud's talking about. Cars don't follow people. PEOPLE follow people." He turns too fast, not using Claud as support. He slips and keeps going in the direction he started and hits the ground pretty hard.

• Tom Welp.. That seems like the guy he rememberd.

• Cross Now he's an epic mess. He gets up in a hurry as if that will somehow disguise the epically blatant faceplant, but there's red streaming from his nose now and he ... eventually figures it out and leans forward.

• Tom pulls the car in front of them, cutting off the rest of the street. He rolls down a window. Didn't need ta talk much with the boss around, but boss wasn't here. He clears his throat. "Hey fellas? Need a ride? Courtesy of Mr. Valentine, of course?" He tips a hat. "Mr. Cross? Nice ta see ya again?"

• Claud Ahhh oh shit-- he tries to catch Cross but his reflexes are slow and the man goes down. He winces in sympathy. "Shit, man are you okay?" He looks up and the car was stopped in front of them. He squints against the glare of the headlamps and tries to see... "Oh! Uh, I think we'd best... sorry about this." He fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket and presses it into Cross' hand. Don't bleed on the upholstery.

• Cross forgets to mask his facial injury and takes the handkercheif. Hey was this his black one? He was wondering he thought he'd lost that. Fuck he is SO SLOSHED RIGHT NOW. "FFF ITS KATO!!" he smiles hard and wildly but nobody sees through the hankie. "Fuck mann ve are shoglad t'shee you."

• Tom watches the clown. Noooo that wasn't right, maybe this man was a maginificent dancer with a powerful vibe. He shoulda learned by now not to judge. And the other one seemed to be standing upright without any difficulty, and that was a good sign. Kato? He smirks to himself. "Don't trouble yourself, sir." He responds to Claud while making his way out of the car to help. "Pleasure to see you as well, Mister Cross. You look in as good spirits as ever- ahem. Excuse my little joke. Will you be needing a Vendy, sir?" He knows better than to assume by now, with Mr. Valentine's little phobia of them.

• Claud practically picks Cross up with another apologetic look directed towards the driver. He certainly thinks Cross needs one but he wouldn't make that decision for the other man. "I'm alright, but uh, well whaddya think Cross?"

• Cross "NUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuUH!"
• Cross squints "Gimme a moment t'think."

• Cross wipes his nose carefully with the handkercheif and when nothing new leaks out of his head cavity he figures he's okay. "Nhh, it doezzat sometimsh efen vizout zhe falling.... mm... Ich I. am okay!" when did he get in the car? Man he'd forgotten how cushy it was in here

• Tom is mildly grateful for Claud's help, and Cross' lack of car damaging vibe. He shuts the door and reenters the car. "Well, that's very good to hear, sir!" He thinks the bleeding man really could use a Vendy, but then again, he'd seen worse go untreated, and it wasn't his job to push anyone. Just a bit of blood, right,? he thingsk cheerfully "So, where can I drop you two scamps off? -er- escuse me. My instructions were unclear. If you need transport throughout the whole ofthe eveneing, justsay the word. I am at your disposal.

• Frankie, meanwhile, is having an accidental, epic throwdown.

• Claud Helps shovel Cross into the car as gently as he can. He gets Cross all strapped in with the intention of sitting on the other side of the car but... he just winds up sitting next to him anyway, becoming one with the seat. Too lazy to moooove. He chuckles at "scamps." He gives Tom the address of their apartment. He doesn't really feel like thinking up an excuse for having a place in Square so he doesn't. If it was a problem he'd think when he was more clearheaded. "Thank you, by the way." he says at length.

• Cross almost immediately undoes his seatbelt, and halfway crawls over claud to get his face nearer a window "JATHANSS" Cross was gonna give Phoenix's old address lol

• Tom Square district, huh? Not the first time by any means, but quite unusual for men... well. Tom just tucks away the information like all the rest. "Ah, a passenger with such polite manners! Pleasures mine, sir!" He's layin it on a bit thick, but hey, he was grateful, and a bit curious, so why the hell not. He doesn't turn to lookat Cross' yelling, but... "Sorry sir, didn't quite catch that.

• Cross "Dddddddda.... damn wrong language -IMAGINEZHAT- thank you." He says quite eloquently. A little effort goes a long way in buring his first language's accent. "Ja sqvare dishtrict like mein ... my friend shaid, ve haff a buddy of ours who needsh visiting." Cross is bullshitting of course but at this point he could say anything and you'd have to assume it was truth. There's no social cues to discern lies from truth anymore. He's that far gone.

• Claud can't bring him to care that a scruffy, drunk man was crawling on him. Whatever. Tonight was overall fantastic and he wasn't going to let Cross or anyone else ruin it. Without asking he lights up a cigarette, there was an ashtray right there, it should be fine. He leans all the way back, breathing the smoke deep. Hmn... friend. Interesting.

• Cross isn't crawling for long - he's been slowing down this while time. He settles into the seat knowing if he doesn't get settled properly, he's gonna be dizzy as hell when the car gets going. Sadly this spells out d o o m for Claud, who has to put up with a soon-dozing Cross.

The car goes

• Tom isn't sure what language could be mangled eough to sound like that, but he makes no comment. He listens to Cross' rambling story without a word. He doesn't even roll his eyes. Not worth the effort. Sounded like the two were up to somethin back there as well. Again, not his concern. Though he does wonder why Mr. Valentine was giving the two his services.. Regardless. They were reaching their destination. "You two going to the same place? If you need, I am more than happy to make the second trip," he says without a trace of emotion or judgement, full buisness mode.

• Cross grumbles mildly to himself - this was supposed to be a reply to the whole trips thing (nono that wont be necessary) but. Honestly. He's out. Claud, if he knows better (and by this point he really can't not know better), will have to take a little care since his friend soon unmasks. Ooh, nice bruises there buddy.

• Claud instinctively wraps an arm around Cross. Wait what? Well fuckit whatever, the man was asleep now, and he didn't want him flopping over and rolling around the car. That would be unfortunate. He doesn't notice anything wrong in the low light. "No, just the one address is fine. I'll have to make sure Cross doesn't get himself killed on the stairs anyway. Thank you though." Even this tired he was still bullshitting seamlessly. Amazing.

• Tom looks into his mirror. The two were cuddling. He sighs. No judging. "You sure we can't get him to a Vendy, sir? I know some don't like it, but in the end, it's really for the best once they've passed out." he calls now that Mr. Cross appears to be down for the count. "And again, I can wait until you got him settled. Your comfort and safety is my top priority tonight," his mind goes to the idiot Valentine, and his brow crinkles with worry, "So don't fret about putting me out, I implore you."

• Cross makes a faint hiss. Translation: He's not quite snoring but, yes. Breathing is still happening.

• Claud is barely awake himself. "Nah, he'll be fine. He don't like vendies from what I gather anyway. Thanks again, though." He goes quiet, enjoying the smoke and the city lights glowing through the car windows. An emptiness starts to yawn in his chest again, but overall it was a wonderful evening.