epidemiology | OPEN. NEVER HAVE I EVER (INSERT THING NEVER DONE HERE).

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OPEN. NEVER HAVE I EVER (INSERT THING NEVER DONE HERE).

CHARACTERS: Open! Starring Dean Winchester & Loki as your fantasy sitcom heroes.
DATE: October 9th
WARNINGS: It's Dean & Loki, so it's bound to get lewd. Also drinking. Tread carefully, but if anything rears its ugly head, I'll add it.
SUMMARY: Never Have I Ever at The Den. Live before a studio audience.

It's been a week since the sun had gone, and the darkness is enough to begin to drive anyone mad. There was little headway to be made, and the darkness seemed cause enough for the bad blood between the humans and the goblins to boil. With tensions high, and suspicions raging, an occasional retreat was welcomed, especially in the form of food and alcohol. The Den is bustling, filled with those roaring and laughing, drinking away whatever ill feelings needed quenching, and looking for something to do while the sun remains absent. There are lanterns and candles to keep everything well lit, but causing a variety of interesting shadows to creep along the walls. Servers weave between benches and tables to go about their duties to feed and water hungry patrons.

There are two of ALASTAIR's inter-dimensional travelers sitting at the edge of an unsurprisingly empty bench toward the back of the tavern. One of them, clad in a tacky green jacket and golden horned diadem, looks cocky enough to be crossing his legs at the knee. There's a shirt hung over his neck like a victory scarf. His companion, a short haired, broad shouldered fellow, seems to have lost his shirt entirely. There's a bottle between the two of them, and shot glasses on the table filled with a clear, amber liquid.

They're loud enough to be heard.

"Never have I ever been known as Chisel Chest in any form," Loki says with a hint of a smile that tugs at the end of his lips. He leans his elbows on the table, weaves his black-tipped fingers together, and rests his chin on his folded hands. He feigns disappointment. "That makes it your drink." He holds up his shot in toast.

There's plenty of room on the bench for anyone who wants to join them.

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[ He'll shrug, but sit down and take the shot. ]

The music I am most familiar with is syncopated. Unless your 'waltz' is as well, I doubt it.

It's on me this time. Consider this the drink that I owe you. We're square.

[ Loki says easily, holding another shot to his lips. he's an Asgardian, drinking spirits and ale was more likely than drinking water, and even though Loki had affection for storming mortal grocery stores and picking out various novelty flavors of fruit drink, sometimes it was nice to get a very weak reminder of home. ]

That sounds ... fun, actually. Not unlike some things that I've heard.

[ a pause, and his eyes suddenly light up. ]

Do you know what dubstep is?

[ The question immediately makes him dubious. As much of what comes out of Loki's mouth does. ]

No, I do not. And unless you can train a troubadour to produce it, it's unlikely I will ever learn more about it.

You wound me. [ the shot tips between his fingers, but the alcohol doesn't spill. ] Anyone can do dubstep if they've got the ears for it.

[ there's a deliberately dramatic pause. ]

Including myself.

[ He'll make a sweeping gesture with his arm. ]

Go on, then. Entertain us.

I'm a one man band now, am I?

[ he puts his elbow on the table and leans on it, crossing his legs and raising his brows. ]

Weighted with the expectation of entertainment. Well then ... I'll have to deliver.

[ there's a flutter of his fingers and he leans forward to put them over his mouth. he does a very good dubstep impression, complete with measured beats. ]

[ He'll lean in and listen. Eventually, a small furrow will appear on his brow, as he processes this. ]

I see. [ He doesn't. ] What dance usually accompanies this?

[ Loki lingers where he is, drawing his hand from around his mouth and waving his dark nails absently. ]

Nothing fancy. The mortals usually use sticks that glow a variety of neon colors accompanied with dim lighting. It's for effect. Then they mill together while the music becomes loud enough to deafen them. It's quite the experience—something about the adrenaline rush.

[ That does get a slight tilt of the head in reaction, but nothing else. It's not like Ahad's corner of the universe doesn't already have similar events that also tend to include some mind-altering substances to liven up the party, as it were. That, and sex. ]

Ah, I don't see much of the appeal without any 'fancy' dancing involved.

[ Depending on how good Loki's getting at recognizing Ahad's tone by now, he's clearly not serious. ]

And here I didn't take you for a bore.

[ who's being serious? someone named Loki isn't being serious. ]

All you need is a little something and everyone forgets all about fancy dancing for more fruitful endeavors.

If dancing is boring, there is little left to do but blame your own lack of imagination.

[ They're not really talking about dancing anymore. Not in the usual sense, at least. ]

Fruitful may be asking too much. Unless the metaphor has run away with you?

Fancy dancing.

[ he corrects. there's a difference, and he's being a butt about it. ]

And that's more the appeal of the other kind. [ there's a pause and he flicks a nail against the shot glass, causing the liquid to ripple. ] Never have I ever finished the waltz.

Fancy need not mean dry, stuffy, or tedious.

[ They're not even pretending this conversation is still about dancing any more...

Ahad will shrug and drink his shot, even if he's still not clear on what a waltz entails. He's completely solicitous, when he speaks. It's only his eyes that give away how amused he is. ]

There are certain aids, to assist with that. I hear that practice can do wonders for stamina, as well.

[ surprisingly, Loki doesn't look to put-out. it's one of the rare subjects where his self-esteem hasn't taken a sensitive blow. ]

That's funny, because I've heard the same. Well, I've never been against expanding my horizons.

[ He would be almost disappointed if Loki were offended. There's a certain enjoyment to verbal sparring, but it sours when someone takes it the wrong way or becomes overly defensive.

He nearly smirks, before replying. ]

Would that truly be expansion, if you've already heard of it?

According to you I've yet to try it. [ he's pouring himself a shot, because that definitely deserves a shot. ] That would suffice to say that it's not truly an expansion. There's hearing and there's experiencing, isn't there?

And me? I hear I'm pretty decent at new experiences. It comes when you're the god of certain things.

[ he leaves that out in the open when he takes the shot. ]

[ That completely deserves an eye-roll. It's obvious and exaggerated. ]

Is this where I ask for...what? A demonstration?

That depends on the witty retort that may or may not involve my poor performance.

[ with an elbow on his table, he tosses his fingers whimsically in the air. he doesn't seem to have any expectations, but he does seem to be enjoying the little game. ]

And if we can find any glow sticks. This place seems to be curiously low on them.

Are you the god of poor performances, perhaps?

[ It likely doesn't sound like it, but this would be a legitimate question in Ahad's own universe. Even if that would make for a rather pathetic godling. ]

Why you would want a stick that glows is beyond me.

Oh, you would think.

[ Loki says it with a smile, but there's some truth behind it. it would be easier if he were the good of failure, living up to all those wonderful expectations of his own downfall.

he twirls the shot in his hand. ]

But no.

The stick, however, is for the novelty. It glows while you—erm—dance. Not the euphemistic kind of dancing.

None of my siblings claim the title, but there are a few I would be willing to nominate for it.

[ There's no lack of truth behind his words, either. Loki may have picked up on the fact that Ahad doesn't like his family very much. Since he's been so subtle about it.

He's not going to pursue with asking what Loki is the god of, either. That leads to a dangerous road that ends with having to admit to being the god of love. ]

I suppose that would be less dangerous than candles. For the non-euphemistic kind of dancing.

And here you're the one with your shirt off.

[ he says with a little hint of a smile. ]

Shirtless I may be, but I ain't tossing dirty innuendoes around pretending it's about dancing— dancing! Subtle as brick in the face.

[ shaking his head, amused. ]

Have fun, fellas.

Were you feeling neglected?

[ His tone is hitting a level that's just above smarmy. ]

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