Drink away the uncomfortable truth [OPEN, mingle log]

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Who: Moriarty, Sherlock, and whoever joins in
When: January 28th
Where: Banquet Hall
What: Moriarty got some news he's not happy about, and has decided to get drunk to deal with it. Naturally, he's inviting everyone to drink with him.

...Also maybe celebrating that his back is no longer broke.


A - network

To whoever wishes:

There will be a 'drinking party' of sorts in the Banquet Hall this evening - as a celebration of my successful recovery, and....other things. Any who wish to attend may, regardless of age - though I would ask that those underage either moderate their drinking or grab non-alcoholic drinks from other parts of the hall.

I will be providing the alcohol, of course.

- Professor Moriarty

Hall

[And like he said, there's plenty of booze to go around - lined up on tables, running the gambit from good wine to spirits and all sorts. It all looks pretty high quality, too - though that might not be a surprise, considering how easily Moriarty seems to be able to come up with wide sums of money.

The man who made all of this possible is, of course, there - nursing a glass of brandy with what looks like canned mackerel on crackers nearby as a drinking snack. You can choose to talk to him...or just talk among yourselves, though he looks remarkably glum and a little annoyed - which is weird, because shouldn't he be happy?

Still, it's free alcohol - so go on and drink to your heart's content! He's not going to keep an eagle eye on you all.

As the party goes on, Moriarty will get more and more drunk - and as he does, his accent will slip from a crisp Londoner one to....straight up rough Yorkshire. And in stark contrast to how he normally is, he'll become quiet and almost withdrawn, staring into his cup like it somehow holds all the answers to his sorrows.

There's a reason he doesn't drink much, honestly.

But hey! Who needs to mess with the old guy when you've got the opportunity to get smashed, right?]

Comments

Hall | OTA, cw: booze

[improbablenotimpossible]

A. At the start

[There's the taste, ah - it's been a while hasn't it? Well, so much for any illusions of being a designated walker for anyone coming in. He's not sure about inviting everyone of age, but it's not his decision]

Try the Tokay.

B. A little later...

[He seems to relax a little, but he certainly has gotten much, much chattier with the increase of tipsiness, and if anyone proposes anything resembling a question - he'll answer it, in spades.

It's rather like a one-man episode of drunk history, just in a startling and rather impressive range of topics - and his crisp Londoner accent had gained a soft burr to certain words to it]

C. Much, Much later

[Sherlock was clearly, and truly plastered via proxy, his arms folded against his table, resting his head on it, looking more like a sulking student than a grown man. He's still quite responsive to anyone talking, but like Moriarty, he seems strangely gloomy for the occasion]

...Does anyone know a Medium who can keep quiet?

A

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[Damn right it's not his decision, and honestly? Considering the time period they come from, he doesn't see anything wrong with letting teenagers drink.

He makes a face at Sherlock trying to suggest booze to him - and takes a swallowful of the brandy, as if in defiance.]

Perhaps I'll switch to Mead after this glass - that should be suitable, yes?

Re: A

[improbablenotimpossible]

Fine by me.

[He sighs, resting his chin on his hand, lips pursed slightly. The man was aware he did overstep from how Moriarty looked at him. Honestly? He's tired, and maybe hanging around so he can get three sheets to the wind is not the healthiest thing to do, but he's not a man who does things in a healthy fashion]

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[There's a silence, then - as he drinks a bit more, staring into the space directly ahead of him.

He doesn't want to focus on Holmes - he'd rather NOT see the man and be reminded of the whole reason why they're doing this - but, after a time, he sighs and sets his glass down.]

...I shouldn't have snapped at you.

[Not an apology, but it's something.]

After all, it...it isn't your fault.

C

[spelleton]

It depends on what you're planning to do with it. [ Sip. First Moriarty, now Sherlock. This sure is a cheerful party, huh. ]

Re: C

[improbablenotimpossible]

[He opens an eye, peering at Ekkehardt, before grumbling into his arms, his accent has dissolved, still mostly English but more Northern than London]

It'sh someone needsh a good talking to. Needsh to anshwer to me.

[spelleton]

So you want to disturb the peace of the dead...for a scolding? [ He leans over to Sherlock, looking almost offended for a split second before he just shakes his head with a short laugh. Just kidding. ]

Well! You wouldn't have been the first. [ Or the last. Takes another sip. This tastes Okay, he guesses. ] I can probably pull something together.

Who's getting the sharp end of your tongue? Or is that classified information?

[adjectiveprince]

[When Zagreus arrives at the banquet hall, he plops down a bottle of nectar on the table.

It's not very strong, by the standards of the gods. By the standards of mortals, it's a POTENT drink that should be taken with care. But it's VERY nice. He only has a few bottles of the stuff, and he doesn't really know Moriarity, but he's also always willing to try and make new friends.]

I understand you have made something of a recovery, which deserves a celebration.

It came here from Mt. Olympus, by way of the Underworld.

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[That gets his attention - He's well aware of the tales of the banquets of the gods, of their nectar and ambrosia...and the idea of drinking a cupful is inherently attractive.

His sour mood evaporates in a second as he leaves his brandy glass where it is, standing up and heading over.]

Is that - nectar? Truly?

While I appreciate the gift, I'm certain that must be hard to procure - are you certain you wish to share it?

[...This is all just token protests, of course - he's pretty much laser focused on it, and it's clear he's not leaving until he gets some.]

[adjectiveprince]

Drinks are made to be drunk. And shared. There is nothing better I could do with it than this.

[hatesdeerstalkers]

...My deepest thanks, then.

[He pretty much wastes ZERO time in grabbing a cup, setting it so that Zagreus can poor him a drink, looking happier than he has for the whole party.]

I'll try not to take more than this - But I do believe this will hit just the right spot!

[improbablenotimpossible]

[His eyes widen slightly at the sight of it and what Zagerus said, and another time he cursed that he could only sample it via proxy]

[spelleton]

[ Ekkehardt doesn't drink, because he can't get drunk in the first place (with one notable exception), so drinking is pointless. Mostly he's just here to make sure nobody injures themselves and nothing terrible happens. ]

Congratulations on your recovery. [ He has a drink in hand, but it's more for the look of it than anything. ]

I can't help but notice that you don't look very celebratory...?

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Thank you - it was a resounding success. You did your job very well, Ekkehardt.

[There's a thin smile - that vanishes once ekke mentions the glum mood he's in.]

...Ah, yes. That - is another matter entirely, sadly. I received some...information...about my past that put most of my life before I turned into a rather grim light.

[spelleton]

Ah, my condolences. I'm sorry to hear that. [ He does feel like this is going to be a topic that the man is going to ruminate on increasingly as the night goes by, so. ]

If you'd prefer not to talk about it, I won't pry. Feel free to change the topic. [ He's not going to poke into other people's personal business if they don't want to talk about it. ]

hall

[escardos]

Professor...?

[ flat had invited himself to the place, of course. drinking alcohol was legal in public, and he has a glass of white wine in his hands. probably the fourth or fifth—no sign of getting drunk though. not even mildly tipsy.

he approaches his professor with a curious expression, pulling a chair to sit down. ]

You look terrible. Should I call Professor Ekkehardt? Oh, I can always dial 112 if you need an ambulance!

[hatesdeerstalkers]

Ah - Flat.

[He is a bit tired looking - though he does note that Flat doesn't seem to be affected by the alcohol at all. Perhaps he just can't be affected by it - though he wonders why the boy's drinking it if that's the case.

One of the best things of his own state was that he still could get drunk, after all.]

No, no - unfortunately, this is an affliction of the emotional sort, not a physical one. I appreciate the offer, regardless.

[escardos]

[ he drinks it because it tastes nice, not for the sake of getting drunk. that would probably be a sentiment that he’d never understand, like many others.

but because it’s moriarty, he wants to make an attempt. he tilts his head. ]

So you’re upset? How come? It must be really bad if the Great James Moriarty is upset by it!

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[Considering how awful alcohol tends to taste to most people? yeah. Moriarty is one of those people, but he likes it for the sheer way it can drown out the worst of thoughts and feelings.

There's a pause, before he shrugs his shoulders. Fuck it - Flat basically knew from the moment they met.]

I suppose I haven't quite gotten over the recent news that my birth family apparently pretended I never existed to begin with - to the point of convincing my twin that all I had been was an imaginary friend.

[giornata_gloriosa]

Arrival
[Giorno has missed being in Italy, and being allowed such things, so there is no way he's missing this chance. He catches a nice glass of a Passito, liking a very sweet wine if he isn't getting much, which he can only assume the faculty won't allow him more than a glass around here.

Still he's gotten some himself and he's going to be sipping it, enjoying the flavor and the warmth, as he moves about.

He didn't just come for the wine though, he did want to congratulate the professor on his recovery. As such, in his wanderings, he is looking around for the 'man of the hour' as it were, to speak to, if he could.]

Later
[He had forgotten how quickly a truly good sweet wine could sneak up on a person, and even with his small sips, nursing the same glass for a while, he had gotten a little tipsy. His smile seemed a bit brighter. He even would have looked flushed... were it not for his particular tendency to have that show along his neck and across his shoulders instead of plastered on his face.

At this point he seems very approachable, and easily conversed with, even for anyone who's been uncertain about doing so.]

arrival

[hatesdeerstalkers]

[He's easy enough to spot - sitting quietly at a table, looking glum, yet trying not to alarm the rest of the partygoers.

As Giorno approaches, he looks up - and gives a thin smile at seeing the glass.]

You prefer wine - not unusual, considering. I suppose you're more used to having at least a glass at meals than most your age, hm?

[giornata_gloriosa]

[He couldn't say he'd exactly expected the man to look glum, but he supposed there was more to this than a celebration... but if that was the case, then this man likely wanted his mind off whatever it was.

Giorno smiles back, focusing on that right now.]

I do... normally I have a bit of red with dinner, but... as the school doesn't openly offer it with meals, I figure it's up to me to supply my own if I want it so badly.

[More than used to... wine and juice didn't look all too different to a child, and while he'd learned not to complain on the flavor, he knew his adjustment wasn't normal even for his home.]

I do prefer something like this, when I'm... socially free to choose. Sweet is far more my flavor preference.

[unpocoloco]

He could use this, he tells himself. Not that he needs an excuse. He was always a fan of the drink and it's one of the few things he can actually have in his state. Gracias a Dios that tequila evaporates quick.

He greets friends warmly, with smiles and settling close.

But, he can't forget who is throwing this party. He can't help but notice the mood of the man. Eventually, he's making his way over.

"I don't think I've seen anyone look so glum at a party before," He says. "Are you alright?"

[hatesdeerstalkers]

"...Ah?"

Moriarty seems to start, blinking over at Hector - before giving a small sigh.

"...In truth? Not at all. It's - I recently gained some knowledge about my past, and it's...a bit hard to bear," he finishes, taking a drink. "I don't mean to bring the mood down."

[unpocoloco]

He should probably have been louder with his footsteps. He smiles apologetically, though that smile soon falls.

"Ah... I understand," He says. Perhaps not the exact thing that's happening and prerhaps not as bad, but he rather thinks he's had enough shocks in his life.

If Moriarty is seated, he'll pull up a seat close by. Either way, he nurses his drink a moment before speaking.

"I like to drink, but I was never one to find that it helped me with my problems." Not even to run from them. "A listening ear, on the other hand, that helps me much more. When I feel up to speaking anyway. How about you?"