victory_road | [011] Action in Goldenrod

Entry tags:

[011] Action in Goldenrod

Who: Connor & Open
Where: Goldenrod, Drifter's bar
When: 15th August
Summary: Connor's birthday! He's having it at Drifter's bar, and has invited certain people but it's an open bar, so anyone can mingle!
Rating: Hank is here, so inevitable swearing inside

OTA:

[Connor wasn't sure what to do for his first birthday. Have people come to his house? It had seemed like a good idea, but then he'd remembered Drifter and his bar.

He's invited a few people specifically; Hank (obviously), Drifter, Yayoi, Shadowmaru, and Jack. They'll get video calls from Connor asking them to come on the 14th. He's fine with speaking to anyone who might be at the bar anyway, though. He's often seen with a drink in his hand, and gets progressively less coordinated as the night goes on. He's always friendly, though. He's a happy drunk. There's a cake made by Hank, which Connor happily shares with anyone who comes, proudly stating that his boyfriend made it and isn't he so talented? Connor certainly couldn't bake a whole cake.]

For Hank:

[After the night is over, Connor is riding home on his Magnezone because he's a little clumsy right now. He turns to look at Hank though, and gives him a small smile.]

I had a good time. Did you?

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[Yayoi had come, as promised. She had carried with her a gift which was wrapped in a silver ribbon. Inside was a thoughtful gift of a lovingly illustrated print of Conner and Hank together in a peaceful moment.]

Happy birthday Conner! [Yayoi exclaimed, raising her drink to him as she offered him the gift.]

[Connor smiles and takes the gift, glad to see Yayoi here.]

Thank you. It's good to see you.

[His Magnezone beeps cheerfully to see her, too.]

How are you and your Pokemon?

We're doing great! [Exclaimed Yayoi, taking a swig of her drink. Beside her, Pikachu sipped her ketchup.]

Me and Pikachu made it out, the kids are holding the fort today but they send their love and a present.

Having a good night so far?

[That Pikachu sure is sipping ketchup. Connor's Raichu jumps up on the bar to tilt his head curiously at the other Pokemon. He feels a scratching at his ankle, so he has to lean down and pick up his Nidorina and place her on the bar, too.]

Yes, I'm having a good time. My Pokemon are all with me, as you can see.

[The bar is big enough for large Pokemon, so Gnarly, Connor's Metagross, is lucky; it can come inside. It's playing with Heiji the Silvally in a corner, and Connor briefly wonders where they got that ball from.]

Some of my other Pokemon wanted to come, too... but since I can only carry six, it wasn't feasible. I told them I'd celebrate with them later.

[He did end up swapping out his Venipede for his Swanna, though. She was making enough angry demon noises that he figured it would be for the best. As ever, the Swanna is resting her head on Connor's leg. She is very possessive of him.]

OTA

[Hank has, by some miracle, made himself sick of cake during the past half a month. So he's just dumped a couple of scoops of ice cream in a cold pint and has been pouring beer on it, because a float sounds better at the moment than more fucking cake. He might not even want donuts for the rest of the month he's had so much of his own shit cake. Jesus fucking Christ.]

[Spoilers: He'll want donuts again in less than a week.]

[But he sits at the bar and, for the most part, drinks without interfering with Connor's socializing. He gets to be the designated... supervisor? Chaperone? Person who makes sure Connor doesn't fall off of Crockett? Whatever, he's that tonight.]

Connor

[Hank's just doing what he does now, and riding a dog. Yup. Tonight is a 'ride the dog home' kind of night.]

Yeah, it was good. But you were the important one.

How's it feel to be a year old?

[The question is a little bittersweet in Hank's opinion. Sometimes he really feels the difference a year has made. But he absolutely needs to take the time to tease Connor about getting older (because like fuck is anyone gonna let him get away with it on his birthday, he already knows that).]

I feel like I've changed a lot. I still find being human inconvenient, but I'm used to it now.

[It's hard to believe that he was once an unfeeling machine. It feels like so long ago. As they reach their house he stumbles off Crockett- though still oddly gracefully for being drunk- and it takes him a moment to get the door open with his key. He supposes he should probably try to drink some water now.]

Yeah, you have.

[Hank is ready to get the door for Connor, but lets him handle it, fumbling through the whole process, like, yeah, a regular human.]

Hey, how about you settle down and I get you some water, birthday boy. [He takes a wild and very probable guess about what Connor might want.] You look like you could use it.

[He'll make sure headache medicine is on hand, too.]

[Connor gives Hank a sheepish sort of smile at his guess. He supposes he must seem very uncoordinated right now, which bothers him just a little but honestly not enough to be a problem. He kicks off his shoes and rests on the bed, where his Persian comes over to knead on him. Connor winces as her claws dig into his side, but he's too comfortable to do anything about it.]

It's your birthday next.

[And their anniversary.]

Yeah uh... I probably won't tell anybody. I think I'll just take the day off and do somethin' quiet.

[He supposes it's their anniversary, though. At least he can remember it (that had been a point of contention between him and his wife). Now he has to figure out what else to do that's not just a cake.]

[He brings the water over to Connor, and leans over him to puff up his pillow a little and lifts the Persian up long enough to put a blanket of protection between him and those claws.]

[Connor appreciates the blanket, and he sips the water before lying down and patting the spot next to him.]

I won't tell anybody either, then.

[If Hank wants it quiet, that is.]

What do you want for your birthday?

[Hank sits at the edge of the bed with him, reaching over to pet the fat-faced Persian a little despite they high making-biscuit-risk. Hopefully the blanket armor holds out.]

Don't worry about it. I have everything I want. Other than my car and my music and some actual peace and quiet-

[He means the constant ambiance.]

Can't think of anything else.

[Connor can't help but wonder what he should get Hank anyway. It's going to be cold again soon... maybe something simple like a fluffy bathrobe would do.]

I'll think of something.

[He always does. He moves to cuddle up to Hank, pulling him down onto the bed more.]

I love you. You do know that, right?

[Drunk Connor is sappy Connor.]

[Hank leans over him, trying not to squish the cat as he lays down beside them (on top of the blanket, too, so Connor's going to be in a predicament whenever his bladder finally demands his time).]

Yeah, I do. I also know you're drunk as fuck.

[He was the designated walker. Now he wishes he'd had more while he was there.]

[He pets his hand over Connor's head, pushing the stubborn hairs back to the best of his ability. Which isn't much ability at all.]

Yes, I am.

[He enjoys the petting, looking up at Hank through lidded eyes.]

I may regret this tomorrow, but I feel good right now.

[And that's what's important. Besides, he hasn't made himself sick or anything.]

I'll make sure to grab you some aspirin before I go to sleep.

[Because, surprisingly, he's not tired yet. A fucking month of fucking dealing in frosting and sugar and he's pretty sure he's a centimeter from diabetes and more than capable of walking to the moon itself.]

[He's not tired yet. But he's happy to hang out here until Connor is out. The warm Persian with its fat fucking face will probably help.]

Don't regret it. Making it for a full year is worth it.

I’m glad to hear you say that.

[It feels like not long ago that Hank had a bleaker outlook on life. He reaches up to brush his thumb over Hank’s cheek, and then moves to pet the Persian again as it drags his hand back towards it with its claws. Ouch.]

I don’t regret anything. I promise.

[Besides what he did as a machine, but he couldn’t help that. He still feels bad about it, but what can he do now?]

[The positivity isn't for himself, so much, it's for Connor's accomplishment. To Hank, a year still feels like an impossible stretch of time. Even less depressed, it hits him hard some days. Today is fine. He has a belly full of beer, that threat of diabetes, and a warm bed he can rest in.]

You know, I was thinkin'... It's not any sort of grand sacrifice. But uh... How about I give you a couple of my pokemon as an extra present. I think you could use 'em.

[He rolls onto his back so he can get out his pokegear.] That way you'll have a good ghost set-up.

[Technically Drifter was invited. Which is weird, knowing all these little babies with actual birthdays and he's long since even forgot the day he got revived, very well a birthday. Hell he probably didn't even know the day he got revived. Point is that at least a thousand of the things had passed, and he sure does wish he could cash in on owed gifts.]

Hiya, kid. How's it hangin'?

[He says to whoever comes up to the bar, no matter if they look older than him or not, or obviously aren't a 'kid'. They get that sort of greeting.]

What can I do you for? You want somethin' hard and simple or do you want me to go get out the cocktail mixer and make a little magic. [As he says that, he makes a coin he's moving between his fingers 'disappear' with a flourish.]

[Connor watches the trick, and silently laments that he's human and can't rerun that in slow motion in his head. He'd love to know how Drifter did it.]

What do you think? You're the expert, here.

Gotcha.

[He tips to look over at the cake, judging what Connor might want.]

'Mudslide' it is.

[He gets out coffee liqueur, chocolate liqueur, and heavy cream so he can start blending them with a hand mixer in his cocktail mixer.]

So, this is your very first birthday, huh? [He says as he's blending.] Booze at birthdays is a tradition, seems like you're startin' off you next year right.

I don't drink often, but this does seem like an occasion that calls for it.

[And he enjoys being drunk. He probably wouldn't enjoy being absolutely hammered, but tipsy and just beyond tipsy are enjoyable.]

When is your birthday?

Who, me? Ain't got one. Sold it for fuel.

[He laughs at his own joke, making sure he's made the drink creamy and frothy. He lines the inside of the glass he's planning to use with chocolate syrup. He pours the drink in, pops a straw in, and pushes it in Connor's direction.]

I can find me other occasions to celebrate.

[Connor just tips his head at the joke, though he's smiling. At least Drifter is entertained by it. He takes the drink and lifts it briefly towards Drifter before sipping at it. Oh... it's good.]

What does someone like you celebrate, then?

Uh... well... We got holidays. Solstice of Heroes, which is a summer thing. Festival of the Lost where you remember people who died. The Dawning, which is winter. Crimson Days which is some sappy bullcrap.

[More people asked him to go into Shaxx's damned Crucible thing than he would have liked and didn't mean it as a smart ass joke.]

But I don't usually celebrate those much, myself. Give me a good win! That I'll celebrate. That? And a job well done. Haha.... [He punctuates that with his raw, easy laugh.]

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[011] Action in Goldenrod

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