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Who: Jo and the people she invites to stay with her.
Where: Her house which is also the Continuing Hope Art Gallery
When: Sunday - Monday - Tuesday (all three days can get clumped into this one post. Just put the day in your subject!)
What: Duh. People have been locked out of the castle. This is because of that.
Notes: Sunday, we will assume she invited people in their own journals or they knew they had a standing invitation to stay if things went crazy. Those people, I've oocly contacted. On Monday, she will be making a journal entry opening up space in the gallery. She didn't want to do it if it was just a one-day thing. So if you want your character to get some CR with Jo, or anyone you see tagging into this post - feel free to throw a Monday or a Tuesday up in this post and direct someone toward it! You can reply to their comment with an OOC note or just send them a PM. None of us bite and we want more CR! -- also -- 3rd person narrative OR [commentspam] are okay by me.

It was... weird. Well, not as weird as hearing that before she had arrived in the castle no one had been actually "arriving" for a month. That had been around Christmas, nearly two years ago, and that was when apparently people were moving to the city convinced that they were 'from' the city. So far, it didn't sound like the stories she'd heard from those days. If anything this just felt like the castle was having her time of the month and didn't want anyone to touch her.

Or, maybe the castle was tired of everyone saying that it was a horrible place to be. The damn thing seemed to have a mind of its own, why not feelings too? Whatever was wrong with it, there were leaves piled up, people stuck outside and a lot of residents not feeling exactly welcome in a place that had kidnapped them.

That was the most ironic thought of the day.

Jo had a few friends that she knew would show up if they needed a place to crash, so she spent most of the early morning hours making sure she had clean towels and that the pull-out couch had clean sheets on it. Lucky for anyone staying with her, she'd gone grocery shopping the other day -- it had been on her list of things to do along with the inventory for the Lux -- and so her fridge was just fine. Besides, she assumed that this wasn't going to be a week-long thing.

Well, she hoped it wasn't going to be a week-long thing.

For the moment, Jo was just wondering what she was going to do with her time. It had been a while since she'd had a day off from the Lux. Not since... before the pirates. When her bar was destroyed. Man, she really hopes her bar isn't destroyed.

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Not wanting to keep herself cooped up all day, Max didn't swing around to the gallery until that night and the weather really started to cool. Her higher-than-normal body temperature kept her warmer than most, but there's only so much a thin tank top can do against a fall chill. So when the sun started to go down, Max went to find some shelter.

Everything seemed pretty quiet when she strolled up to the gallery. She gave the cursory glance around streets before she opened the door and made her way inside.

"Yo." Announcing herself tended to be the smart thing to do around this crowd. "Anybody home?"

"We're all... drinking apparently," Jo called to Max as she heard her enter downstairs. She knew that she'd see that familiar brunette head popping up the stairs in a few minutes, so warning her that they were drinking seemed like the wise move.

Gwaine's already well into his sixth shot by the time the newest member of the party shows. Drunk as he might be, he's still aware enough to stand up when the women reenter the room and he'll remain standing until they take a seat first. He bows, but it's more reminiscent of an awkward stooping since his sense of balance was shot to hell two whiskeys, a beer and a cranberry-rum cocktail ago.

"My ladies."

Edited 2011-10-06 02:12 (UTC)

By now, Julia had completely lost count of the number of drinks she'd had. Which was, by no means, a common situation for her to be in. She wasn't typically one for allowing herself to lose control. Not when she felt like so many things in her life hadn't been in her control. Sure, she frequented bars, but she usually had her reasons. There were limits, and she wasn't so keen on testing them.

... But, then again, the situation she'd found herself in at the present moment was by no means common.

She'd only meant to have a drink or two, just to alleviate some of the awkwardness. But, one thing led to another, and while the alcohol kept flowing, she kept partaking. Maybe it'd been brewing for a while. Whatever the reason, though, once she'd started, she wasn't ready to stop just yet.

For now, she was just content to observe ~~Gwaine making an idiot of himself~~ the scene while sipping on yet another glass of who-knows-what.

Max strolled into the room, looking over the scene for a moment and realizing that she knew ... none of these people, with the exception of Jo. Blondie she might have seen around before, but Medieval Times was definitely new.

"Hey," she said with a wave. "I'm Max. What are we drinking?"

Just because it doesn't hit her unless it's strong doesn't mean she doesn't like doing it.

It wasn't until after Max entered that Spike came back through the door after a necessary smoke break. Might not have been the smartest decision he'd ever made, but he rationalized that he had more to lose by not knowing what was going on inside. To add to that, there was a small risk of being buried alive by leaves if he stayed out there too long, as witnessed by the collection that he quickly shook from his hair once he was inside.

In any case, he wasn't drunk enough to feel comfortable about anything in that setup. Instead of glaring at everyone having a good time -- or at one person in particular -- he found a good vantage point to stand while being purposely out of the way. Max got a nod, but other than that, he wasn't planning on joining the party.

"We're drinking whatever I brought in from the Lux last weekend. Which is a wide variety of things."

Jo gestured over the group of people she'd amassed while waiting for everyone to arrive. She even patted down against the empty seat on the couch beside her, "Plenty of room for another."

The way things were looking, she might end up with Max or Claire sharing her bed, considering the fact that she only had the spare room and then the large living room. She figured she'd sort out all of that later. For now, she was just enjoying some drinks. Mostly because she needed to enjoy some drinks.

Jet had remained relatively quiet for most of the evening, engaging in friendly small talk and sipping vodka cocktails. That medieval guy was a trip, and seemed to get more interesting the more drinks Jet had. Although he wasn't extremely outgoing, alcohol tended to make him more chatty than usual.

"It's turning into a bit of a full house, isn't it?" he stated, vaguely wondering about sleeping arrangements.

"Full house is when it gets fun." Gwaine grins as he takes another swig of...whatever it is this latest cocktail is. As he brings the cup down, he tilts his head inquisitively at Jo and ~~Queen~~ Julia.

"Has anyone mentioned you two might be sisters?" His tone is wondering as he sways ever so slightly. "Both beautiful with hair so golden as to make the sun envious."

Oh. My. God.

If Jo wasn't already in a very, very amused mood that would've tipped her over. However, given the tone of the room and all the other tense moments, that made Jo nearly choke on her beer.

"... that's the most amazing and slightly awkward compliment ever."

Of course, Julia had noticed something out of the corner of her eye during that time. Or, rather, someone slinking back into the room. But there was no form of acknowledgment from her. ... Unless you counted her sips of alcohol becoming slightly more frequent.

Although, if anything was going to grab her attention away, it'd certainly be what she just heard. Even if she wasn't in the most amused of moods herself, it was so unexpected (and amusing) that she might've wanted to choke on her own drink. It wouldn't have happened, though; she still had an amazing amount of poise for someone who'd had as much to drink as she had.

"I can't say I've ever heard that before."

Max was just ... going to watch you all as she grabs herself a beer. People getting drunk were always amusing, but this was definitely straying into awkward territory. She didn't even know the whole story and she could see that.

So she'll just be here, leaning back against the wall and seeing how it plays out.

Jet was none the wiser. Oblivious to all the awkwardness and secrecy, Jet just stared, an odd and slightly disgusted look on his face. This guy apparently has a thing for blondes. Much like someone else he knows. And It may be a while before Jet knows the irony of that statement.

With a roll of his eyes, he lifts his glass to his mouth, merely observing the spectacle.

And just like that, Spike hated everything. If it weren't for the fact that he had only met the guy today, and if he weren't on the other side of the room, that comment might have earned him a broken nose. Sure, that would have been an overreacting. Probably. But there was only so much he could be expected to keep a level head around. As it was, he felt weirdly sick at the sudden comparison, but still managed to hide it in the shadows of his corner.

"Are you a poet?" It was the first time Spike had spoken up after entering so silently, and his voice came out of nowhere.

Luckily any hostility in his tone was easy to gloss over if you were drunk.

That statement was enough to catch Jet's attention, and he looked on, having heard that slight hostility in Spike's voice. He remained quiet, but was captivated, interested to see where this would lead. That guy had hit a nerve with Spike. It made Jet all the more curious to find out why.

That level of anger in Spike's voice caught Jo off guard. She'd been entertained by the comment, but clearly there was something wrong with it. Which turned the mood of the room around completely.

Which was no fun at all. Jo frowned a bit, moving over toward Spike trying to be some sort of buffer between the two of them. Her hand brushed to his arm, keeping her voice low, "Hey, it's nothing. A joke. A compliment."

Her breathing got a bit heavy, deep, as she glanced up at him, "I... need another drink. You should sit down. All that surly sulking in the shadows is a lot of 's' words."

Jet decided it would probably be best to stay out of this one. He still felt a burning desire to feel in-the-know, but saying something had already been taken care of. Jo had it covered. Besides, if he knew Spike, he knew that when he's upset, he tends not to want to be bothered.

A little something had been discovered the night before, but Jet had a feeling he was still missing something.

Gwaine finished off his drink. He shrugs at Spike's question in that vague 'I'll be anything to please the ladies' way and tries to verbalize an answer. The only roadblock in an otherwise perfect plan is that he was trying to sit down at that precise moment and, in his inebriated state, he missed the chair entirely and landed on the floor. He bursts out laughing instead.

"Okay. When you start missing chairs, someone needs to be cut off."

Gwaine breaking the tension saved Max from having to do it. Because she would have, if things had gotten any more heated. Taking a few steps over, she moved one hand to Gwaine's arm to help him up and get him properly into the chair before he hurt someone. Or something.

Julia had picked up on that tone immediately, even despite how many drinks she'd had. She knew Spike well, after all. Years of experience had led her to become fluent in those nonverbal cues, and she was usually able to translate fairly well from what he didn't say.

... Except for right now. She couldn't tell what was going through his head, and that was starting to bother her more than anything. Something about that comment had set something off, or else he wouldn't have responded like that. What she didn't know was why.

But, fortunately, a well-timed sparing of the tension on Gwaine's part had effectively distracted her, causing her to leave her thoughts on that behind for the moment. Allowing her the opportunity to continue to ignore that nagging feeling that she was in the dark about something, and to continue to pretend that nothing was wrong. She let her eyes wander over to Gwaine and Max, taking another sip from her drink.

He lets Max help and does his part to keep his weight off of her. He still has enough sense to know a woman should not be half-carrying a man. When he's finally in a chair he spares her a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Max."

He's not entirely oblivious to the tension, but the haze of alcohol makes him ever so slightly less attuned to it than the rest. For now, he's happy to ignore it.

Spike kept his eyes on the other side of the room long enough to see the man fall; somehow that didn't seem to make it any easier to dismiss what he said. He'd always felt that people were more honest when they were drunk. Could be why that innocent connection bothered him as much as it did.

With a forced exhale, he brought his eyes back to Jo. He couldn't blame her for being nervous, since he was clearly restraining himself because of something that none of them had a clue about. Far be it for him to spoil the mood.

"I'm fine," he replied finally, firmly refusing to confirm that he was sulking, and doing his damnedest not to keep surveying the people in the room like he was sizing every one of them up. Maybe that smoke break wasn't long enough. " -- Just asking a question." He'd missed the introductions after all.

Jo nodded, frowning a bit and still wishing that he'd sit down. She moved from the front room and toward the kitchen, moving to get another bottle and a clean glass. She poured herself a drink, opting to finish it there instead of waiting then poured a second before heading back out to join everyone else.

She moved to take a seat behind where Spike wasn't sulking, but she reached up to grab at him, and pull him down onto her lap. She'd wanted him to sit. He should sit!

For about a minute, Spike thought Jo had given up on trying to get him to warm up to her company. He'd spent the short time she was in the kitchen wondering why he came back. A wordless nod to Jet, and he hoped he could read what he was thinking: Spike was ready to head back out, he didn't care where, but he needed someone around to keep his eyes on them. There was only one man he'd trust enough to do it.

That very simple concept was spoiled somewhat when Jo returned and latched onto him. More than getting caught off guard, he didn't want to hurt her by fighting back -- which all lead to an awkward tumble that ended in him attempting to make it look like he was taking a seat next to her and misjudged the space between them. Wordlessly, and with a very strained "how much did you have to drink" smile, he pushed over to the cushion beside her.

Moving along. No reason for anyone to jump to conclusions, so he didn't need to be paranoid. Leaving right away would look more obvious than Jo pulling him into her lap, so Spike stayed seated, said nothing, and hoped nobody had caught that.

Jo didn't mind that he'd moved aside so quickly. Honestly, she just wanted him to sit so that he'd stay put instead of trying to bail again. The conversation had gotten odd, but she didn't want the night to continue on this trend.

"Does anyone need another drink?" Jo had after all brought the bottle back with her.

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sunday night }

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just to make this easy to follow -- people still inside can go in this thread!