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"You can do mine next." He'd take the seat on the stool when Ever vacated it, down his shot, and smile at Cee. "Skull, zombie, stitches. Whatever." He didn't really care that much.

Warm? Maybe, though Peyton wasn't wearing quite as much, so she was comfortable, maybe a touch chilled. Looking thoughtful, she tucked a cool hand up the back of Noah's shirt, pressing it to warm skin. "Better?" And of course her smile up to him was impish, pointed.

"Do you want something else to drink?" It seemed as if glasses were replacing themselves. A glance down showed another round of shots, and she'd nudge one towards Noah before handing one to Heidi.

"Cheers?"

Ever's reaction had him narrowing pale eyes, trying to gauge if he was serious or not, and he reached for the mirror to check out Cee's handy work. It looked good, like someone had pushed the side of his face against a bed of hot coals, nice a creepy. "Nice job, Cee." Because it was, regardless of anything else.

He moved, making room for Paige, and went to stand by the Lifer, the painted side of his face angled away from him on the chance that it did bother her. Zeke distinctly recalled having been told about melting organs and he hasn't forgotten how off Ever had been acting.

But it was hard to tell, so he ordered couple of screw drivers, and when they were placed in the bar I front of them he nudged one over, cracking a small smile. "The hell you aren't." Mild enough to dropped, but there was a definite edge to his voice.

Taym was elbowed gently. "Only a little?" Nora pursed her lips in feigned disappointment, then laughed and raised her glass. "I'll keep that in mind. Cheers to the Chileans!" she toasted before savoring the rum. "You look better, mate. Not so scarecrowish. Eat it all or take some home if you want, I've got more stashed away for later."

She was generous, but not that generous.

"In fact, if you're not busy fondly eyeballing my food or your girl, a witch has got to do her deliveries around the place." Turning her head, Nora cupped one side of her mouth and called, "Oy, Cee, you or your lot want anything off the table?" Gal looked hard at work doing make up, the least she could do was supplement the drinks with something sweet.

It was as well that she'd turned her attention elsewhere, so that she wouldn't see the half-second expression that flickered over his face at her comment that he looked better. It was not a friendly expression, and it arrested the tentative movement he was making for a second slice of peach. He detached himself from the table instead, plunging back into the fray with the dim thought that maybe he'd look for America after all--her hat was back in his hand; he felt like a whipped a*****e made to hold his wife's bag at the mall except that the hat was also a security blanket and a sort of visual signal of ownership (whose?), which pleased him--

--at this point any familiar face that wasn't Rep or Lawrence or Caelius would have been welcome. Even this one.

"Ambrodiel," he said. And then, as if he'd had super hearing the entire time although in fact he was simply an incisive a*****e: "I see Cee's got you all tarted up."

"Christ, how was I supposed to know that s**t?" Leslie shrugged. "She hot?" And then he got distracted by alcohol, and the buzzing of his phone.



"I'm gonna get some air," he muttered, heading outside before most of the hubbub.

As was not uncommon for men of especially marked prejudices, Taym's gaydar was utterly and entirely borked. He even knew that Ever was gay, all too well, and yet still interpreted the comment as a jab. He might as well have said "lookin' like a total loser, bro," which is exactly how Taym heard it. And wanted to hear it. It was easier to be the butt of your own joke than to try and fail to be cool.

"The only ones that currently matter," he retorted.

"You remind me of my psych 101 teacher." Maybe the second comment could puncture his bad attitude at least: appraising, appreciative, thoughtful, Ever's eyebrows raised as he sipped his drink. Already, the makeup was wearing around the mouth. He wasn't careful enough.

"...do you want some skull themed boxers?" This was offered slowly, both of his eyebrows raised. Now he was teasing, but with something warm in the tone of his voice. "I bet I could get them off without anyone noticing."