paradisalost | (no subject)

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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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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.

That plan might have gone off without a hitch, that no one would have noticed and things would carry on as usual. Except for one small detail.

Someone caught that, from a quick glance in the direction of the wrong place at just the wrong time.

Her glass froze halfway to her mouth as her alcohol-laden thoughts jumped to about a million conclusions at once, each leading to the same place. A place that hurt. Deeply.

Logically, she knew she had no right to feel this way, if the conclusions her mind just jumped to were true. She bailed without a word, leaving him completely in the dark for three years. Whatever they'd had was nothing but a lost memory to him now, even if she tried to fill in the blanks. But, at the end of the day, she was human. And that very human part of her couldn't help but to feel a sting.

She might've thought it was karma, if she believed in that sort of thing.

But what she thought instead was that she'd seen enough, and that, once again, the room was beginning to close in on her. No, not just close in; more like suffocate her. She needed to clear her head. She needed to breathe.

Without so much as a covert preamble, she rose from her seat and headed for the door. Again.

Jo watched, a bit of confusion on her features. That... wasn't what was supposed to happen. She was drunk, but clearly not drunk enough to not realize what she'd done. The things that Spike couldn't remember, the things he didn't tell her... they suddenly came to the surface and Jo felt a sobering amount of regret.

Of course, it was difficult to tell what the right move was in this instance. She was still tipsy, not the best person to try and reason with someone that she barely knew. Her hand went to reassure Spike, patting to his knee as she stood up. She knew this was her fault -- sort of -- but she didn't want everyone to bail on her.

She'd invited them all in, she'd invited them to stay with her and here it was all imploding. In a small way she felt sort of like she was back home. All the things that were unsaid were suddenly coming to the surface and making everyone else regret showing up. Those truths and hard things to hear made things difficult, but she didn't want to be the source of all the difficulty.

Once she was to her feet, she moved to go after Julia. Even if she had made it through the door, her slightly wobbly walk was going to push her back to the street.

"Julia, wait..."

Now there's a sobering sight. Gwaine leans forward in his chair, balancing his elbows on his knees. He doesn't make the same connections as Jo—he doesn't have the information that she does—but drunk or not he recognizes distress for what it is. He's not the kind of man to stand aside and do nothing if someone else is troubled. Especially a woman.

Staggering to his feet, he nods to the others in the room and follows Jo after Julia. He's not really thinking about what he might be able to do, just knows he has to at least try.

Max turned to watch them all go, eyebrows going up in concern for a moment, before shaking her head.

"Yup. Definitely cutting everybody off. It's getting way too serious in here."

Lost in that one thought, that she needed to get out of there if it was the last thing she did, it took her a moment to register that there was a voice behind her. That someone was trying to get her attention. It didn't matter. None of it did. All that mattered was the distance she needed to put between herself and what was causing her to lose that last little bit of grip that she had. For her own sake.

But, regardless, something caused her to stop. Even if she couldn't quite explain what it was. Maybe it was the fact that she knew she wouldn't get very far. Or maybe it was the faint, lingering possibility that she'd been wrong.

After what seemed like an eternity of hesitation, she took a steadying breath and turned around.

Jo if anything was the stubborn type. She couldn't ever walk away from a fight and most of the time she just walked right into the middle of situations she had no business getting into. It wasn't really the worst trait to have, but it was one that often got her into more trouble than she assumed she needed on a day to day basis.

When Julia stopped, Jo stopped and she was relieved that she hadn't been the only one to come outside after her. Of course, Gwaine might not have been her first choice it was better than being on her own for this.

"You really can't go anywhere with all the leaves and I really am not sure why you left, but I'm just trying to get everyone to get along and stick around. I mean, it got a bit weird with the comment about us looking similar, but I was amused. I mean, we do sort of look alike. There was a girl in the castle before -- had the same face as me. A tattoo on her face, an M across her cheek and rising over her eye. Still, it was weird."

Honestly, Layla Miller looking like her was creepy. The girl knew too much and was proclaiming herself to be someone's wife. Not exactly what Jo wanted to be recognized as.

"This... I don't think this is weird. It's not weird. Plus, I consider you a friend." Jo nodded again, "I'm talking too much. I do that when I drink. I also get friendly and I talk too much. I said that already."

He waits for a break to interject. Since it's apparently a while in coming, he sags slightly against Jo to help keep himself upright. When a pause finally appears, he takes it.

"I apologize to you both if what I said was at all offensive. It was not my intention. Julia, you need not leave. If something upset you, I am certain it can be resolved. If it is me, then I shall be the one to leave. You are the guest, I merely followed."

This whole stupid situation was starting to get to her. It was causing her to break one of her own most important rules, the one that had kept her alive all that time. Never let down your defenses. Never let your emotions make you obvious.

In another world, the way she was behaving now would have almost certainly gotten her killed.

She had to save face somehow. Damage control. They'd seen her slip once. It wasn't going to become a pattern.

Between the rambling and the pauses, she had enough time to put on her mask again. The one she wore everyday for years, the one that portrayed her as someone who was cool, calm, and completely unaffected. She wasn't interested in getting into a long, drawn-out conversation.

"It's all right." Clipped, to the point. Almost as if she were wrapping up some kind of business meeting. To anyone who really knew her, that was a sign that something was still bothering her.

As Gwaine leaned against Jo, her arm moved to support him more. God, he had amazing hair. If he wasn't all medieval times, she'd almost wonder if it smelled good.

Bad. Bad, Jo. Don't go smelling the head of a perfect stranger when you're drunk.

Exhaling, she glanced to Julia and listened to what she said. Of course, Jo could tell that it wasn't exactly true and she wondered if it was also the fact that Jo had tugged on Spike. The timing did seem to line up right for that one.

It clicked in that moment, but she wasn't going to let onto her big 'ah-ha' moment just yet.

"Are you going to come back inside?" Jo asked the question, putting a lot of hope in her tone, "I think Max is trying to cut off the booze, but I have cake, too. Tater tots -- if I can manage the oven without setting off the smoke detector. Also, more booze. Because, Max isn't the boss'a me."

Jo's hand wandered up against Gwaine's shoulder and into his hair, "His hair is really soft."

Edited 2011-10-16 05:39 (UTC)

Ignoring that last inebriated comment (which, at any other time, would have been part of a vaguely amusing scene to watch), she took a good, long moment or two to consider her options.

Option Number One, of course, was her fail-safe. Leaving. That was generally her favored strategy of self-preservation. Distance was the only way to guarantee security. After all, even the most advanced of bullets had a limited range; all you had to do was get out of it.

Or so the theory went. In reality, it tended to cause more problems than it solved. And, somehow, she got the feeling that, no matter how tempting, it'd be impossible to run from this.

Not to mention that it'd be hard to get very far under the current circumstances.

Which, of course, led her to Option Number Two. Staying and continuing to pretend that nothing was wrong. Given the way she'd just slipped, it wasn't ideal. But this was nothing she couldn't handle, right? She'd survived worse, hadn't she?

And whatever the truth was, it wasn't Jo's fault.

She let out a quiet breath. "I will."

Gwaine was nodding along with what Jo was saying. He was in full agreement even if a good portion of the terms went over his head. From context, he'd managed to figure out "booze" (and was quite proud of himself for doing so on his own). The tater tots were harder, but if he'd managed to define booze he could eventually get that one too.

When Jo's hand ends up in his hair, he only tilts his head to her so she has better access. There is something really...nice? comforting? some good feeling he can't quite place in his alcohol haze about someone fiddling with your hair. The only thing that makes the moment better is Julia's acquiescence. His grin is back to its usual width and intensity.

"Then let us return. No need to stay out here among the leaves if we don't have to."

Jo nodded, her fingers still twisting into Gwaine's hair lightly. Honestly, it felt really good to the more than just a little drunk Jo.

"Yeah, let's go inside and just relax. No thinking about the leaves or the dumb castle or that if the castle wants to make it snow tomorrow it could."

Her eyes went wide for a moment, "Oh, I really hope it doesn't turn the leaves into snow. I hate shoveling."

Things had a tendency to go from bad to worse when Spike was involved, so the sense of dread that he'd felt the moment he saw Julia and Jo being friendly was then completely justified. Julia wasn't an idiot, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind when she stood up that she'd seen right through him. Ordinarily, he would be the one chasing after her, but guilt weighed him down long enough for the others to take advantage.

Jo and their new friend. That would just about do it for his chances of smoothing things over. Once they were gone, Spike grabbed the bottle Jo had left on the table in time to catch Max's comment. Seemed hardly fair when he was so far behind everyone else, and he wasn't too inclined to give it up.

After a generous swig, he leaned far back into the couch, looking like a man waiting for his death sentence. If he could only be so lucky.

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