2019.03.02:Terrace BBQ

Terrace BBQ
A rooftop party at Vallarta Terrace
IC Date	Early March
IC Time	Evening
Players	Marshall, Jacob, Dusk, Antonio, Troy Jameson, Yaretzi
Location	Vallarta Terrace
Prp/Tp	None
Spheres	Mortal+

Jacob heads up to the roof and looks around. Curious as there had not been any social events around the complex before so, why not... it was good to seem normal right? He looks around to see what was set up and who was around.

Marshall, dressed down from his usual, more academic style, is in jeans and a UC:P pullover for the cookout. As a few others mill around the fire pit, he's standing over by the grills helping to finish up with cooking the burgers. Jacob's arrival is met with a smile and a wave to invite him over. "Hey...how's it going?"

Jacob nods to him "Pretty good, yourself?" heading over and offering a nod "Jacob Stone apartment 307" looking to the burgers "First time someone tried a social event here.."

With two paper bags advertising local restaurant Smoke and Barley, Dusk steps to the rooftop and takes a look around. Looking around and spying the grill, he heads in that direction. There are two types of people; those that'll push other people's arrangements out of the way to make room for their own, and Dusk, he stands there, looking awkward, holding both bags.

The apparent host standing behind the grill explains that since he was new to the building and wanted to try and meet new people the best way it seemed to accomplish it was to offer food...and beer. "When I found this place I couldn't believe that it wasn't used more often. The Super said something about how the door was jammed shut for a while but I managed to find away to get it fixed." He gestures across the tables where things have been set up for the dinner to the ice-filled tubs, "Help yourself to a drink or something."

"Uh," he starts, as though he's either forgotten his own name, or remembering what the Witness Relocation Program assigned him. "Ring, 306," settles local celebrity. "I may have a plus one coming, but I didn't want to come empty handed." He lifts his arms, and the bags as well, "What should I do with these?" One is gestured to, then the other, "honey bar-bee-que wings, and strawberry creme horns. Or, vica versa. I haven't checked." Jacob is given a look when he speaks up, "Hey. Yeah, for as close as we are to the hospital and university, gotta love the piece and quite."

Marshall gestures with the spatula towards the food table for one and the adjoining desert spread for the other. "Thanks for bringing extra bud." A few unnamed folks seem to wander back from the fire pit occasionally and fill up a plate with a burger or two from the first grilled batch. There's plenty to go around but variety is never a bad thing. "Oh and I'd be careful of Mrs. Hansen - she's the loudest woman over by the fire; can't miss her. She said that she's already lookin for husband number four."

Jacob looks to Mrs Hansen and notes to avoid the woman. "Well seems to be abit of a turn out. Bring free food and the people will come" chuckles and shakes his head somewhat. "So what do you do then Marshall? Mr 306 with a plus?" tilting his head curiously.

"Oh, that'll be the plus one," Dusk murmurs under his breath, turning his attention back to the host. A private smile plays on his lips while he digs the items out of their respective bags, peeks and puts them on the proper tables. The extra cutlery and plates he finds a place for before folding the bags. Tucking them under his left arm, Dusk does the lean-and-look towards the fire, and pulls his left arm out of his pants pocket, tucking his thumb into the pocket instead; likely to showcase his wedding ring.

"Dusk," he offers, along with his right hand to Jacob. "I do a little this and that. Some stuff on the Internet, and some writing."

Amy Baker, a perky, helpful young nurse on the fourth floor, swings by the grill to take a plate of freshly cooked burgers from Marshall and set them on the table with the rest of the food. She's quite 'attentive' but Marshall doesn't seem all that interested. Rather, he looks over to Jacob and explains that he's a grad student at the university. "I am studying to be a clinical psychologist - hope to be a psycho-therapist when I'm done."

Jacob nods to both of them "I am a life coach, I take care of rich kids with artistic talents so they don't have to worry about life all to much and make sure they don't die from drug abuse or alcoholism" shrugging lightly. Sipping his beer/soda/whatever.

"I had a girlfriend that's a psychiatrist. Dr. de Rosales," he says, looking up for a moment while he nods his head. "She works over at the hospital actually. Let me know if it would help to have an introduction. I only took Psych, but I am still attending. Yesterday was Animal Behavior and Communication and Human Physiology." On his way to turning his attention to Jacob's reply, Dusk lingers on Amy. With the bags still under his arm, he looks for, and then tucks them under a seat. His now. And on his way back to the grill, takes a diet coke. "That's not a bad profession. Artists have to be a little," Dusk takes a pointing finger from pointing at Jacob to twirling it around his temple before resuming, "to do or see the things they do."

Marshall and a few of the guys are standing by the grill as he puts another batch of burgers on the flames. He explains that he'll be doing some time in residence at the hospital as part of his training. "It's always better to have a friendly face on the inside when you show up. I mean...that's kind of why I threw this thing together. I'd rather know my neighbors than just see a face in the hall or the laundry, ya know?"

Jacob chuckles "Mostly they are just spoiled, but abit off center. Working with them though and there has been some good improvements. Though one client is not like them, she is just a rich brat who doesnt want a lecture... but she pays well so." shrugging lightly. He nods to Marshall "Well being social supposedly is a good thing"

When you spend a lot of time in the library (in the stacks, vaping things that are more interesting than legal, and the librarian can fuck herself if she thinks she's going to catch you---breakin' the law, breakin' the law) you meet a lot of interesting people. The kind of people that don't actually bother to ask if you fo to school there, so long as you're cute enough. The dude she came with never bothered to ask what her major was (she doesn't have one) or what dorm she was staying in (ew). He'd just been kind of excited to see someone around his age who wasn't awful-looking and didn't seem to think he was a fucking library lizard (the weed had helped---so much). That's why she's here, though she'd eventually lost library-lizard in the crowd due to a sheer refusal to give any fucks about library strangers looking to get some. The smell of meat draws her attention---it is, in this case, notably focused and invested attention because HELL, that smells good. Yaretzi wraps her white, flower-printed skirt more tightly around her legs in an attempt to press herself through the crowd, and eventually lays eyes on the grill. Perfect. She invites herself into the general vicinity of the grill in a cloud of patchouli-smelling perfume. JEez, girl, lay off on the stereotypes. "Are these for everyone? Ey, Tipo, these for everyone?" Her accent is way stronger, but. She's been doing weird things in the library, cut a lady some slack.

He smiles a knowing smile while nodding, "Nothing like meeting the pretty girl from upstairs for the first time while you're folding your tightie-whities." Dusk's can gives the sound of releasing gas when he cracks it open with his right hand. "But if you like, I'll give you her digits, or something. I think I still remember them. Just let me know, it's the least I can do for thanking you for throwing this together." Pausing to take a sip, he nods his head slightly in agreement, and after a swallow, adds, "I've known my fair share. They can be." Dusk pauses, his eyes drawing over to new entries before he settles on a word. "Intense," he says, tucking his left hand back into his pocket.

The arrival of the startlingly attractive man draws Marshall's attention and a certain loud-mouthed divorce' seems to have caught sight of him as well. Mrs. Hansen, or 'Hannah' as she likes men to call her, suddenly needs to find herself something more to drink and saunters towards the food and grill area so that she can get a better view. "Sure," Marshall answers Yaretzi's question, "...help yourself." He quickly throws a round of introductions about with names and apartment numbers so that people can put people and places together.

Jacob watches the people gathering at the roof and tilting his head as he spots Yeretzi raising a brow somewhat, sipping his can again but merely watches for now, not making a comment. Taking in the different people from the building and trying to make up the patterns they form. Not really disengaging from the conversation but not involving himself much further in it.

Tony sticks his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking a bit sheepish as the names and apartments are tossed about. He keeps to the edges of the group, moving to check out whatever type of booze might be available. He gives the woman who comes near a smile. "Hey there." But he seems to be trying to get his bearings more than being shy. It's an odd combination. Boyish charm and innocence mixed with a sensualness that he doesn't seem aware of. He moves with the grace of a dancer, as if he has bones and muscles in places that most don't.

There is no apartment number for Yaretzi, nor is there a name, because she doesn't live here, but technically she...can be here because a weirdo from the library invited her. Good enough. Antonio is quite charming, but unfortunately that charm is wasted on Yaretzi who is too high, too tightly-strung and too distracted to notice. She offers a thumbs-up to Marshall, and then she crosses her arms across her chest and fuckin' waits because that meat is coming, and if Yaretzi has anything to say about it, at least some of it is coming to Yaretzi. Eventually, she takes Marshall's advice and helps herself to two burgers because they smell amazing and her impulse-control is not at its best for the moment---she doesn't bother with bread or toppings. Just cooked hamburger patties. Weird.

"So how long have you been in the building?" Marshall asks the small group of folks near him at the grill. He flips the burgers with about as much finesse and expertise as someone that's seen it done quite often but not actually controlled his own grill as of yet. A few tear, a few have now become food for the tiny bricks of glowing red heat below, but most get to where they need to be.

It's not a bad evening's cookout by a long shot. Well stocked with food, drinks and desserts and most of the guests seem to be enjoying themselves around the fire pit. The music, an interesting mixture of classic rock from the 70's and 80's and 90's, keeps the quiet moments of silence between conversations to a minimum.

So what's with that buzzing sound? High pitched somewhat, shrill almost... but hard to place.

Seeing Jacob spying the same thing as he has, Dusk exchanges a look with the other man. Then his, Dusk's brows rise, he inclines his head towards the Latina. Guy code.

The local celebrity takes his left hand out of his pocket and combs his hair with that hand a couple of times before returning his wedding ring to its hiding spot in his pocket, and since she's here, at the grill with them, and the obligatory awkward silence seems to have passed, Dusk clears his throat and offers his first name along with the introduction Marshall gave for him. "Buenas noches, mi nombre es ... Dusk." He lingers before saying his name, looking around. Then his brows rise, questioningly, while he takes another sip from his soda.

Jacob shrugs "She is married" he says deadpan and sips his beer/soda/whatever again emptying it and shakes his head somewhat and grabs another drink from the cooler thing from marshall looking about trying to find something with a raised brow.

"Oh, I'm not. Some weirdo in the library wanted a plus one, and probably thought I was a good option for...that." And other stuff, but who the fuck knows. She plucks up a torn piece of her patty, and glances to the left...then the right. Then she frowns, like she's puzzled by something, but she takes another bite and chews for a long moment. Then another bite, because fuck it, she's hungry. High and hungry. Isn't there a Netflix show about that? "Hey Tipo, you got some kind of..." She gestures with her free hand here, frustration flickering across her face as she tries to remember the damn word. "Lmpara de calor?" She gestures again, in a shape that is humorously rather like a street lamp. "Lamp for heat?" She gestures to her ear, but then Dusk is introducing himself, and her brows rise. Then Jacob's statement has her looking...between the two men, and she laughs. "Ay, Guapo. Sorry---It's complicated." She says, and pats Dusk's shoulder in a manner that seems to be apologetic maybe. Probably because that was some suave-ass shit. Introducing himself in Spanish? Goddamn. "Me llamo Yaretzi Araceli Luisa Reyes-Ramirez." She salutes, hand to one eyebrow. "But you suave as hell. So good job on that."

Tony has a glass of booze in his hand, and had just recognized Dusk amid the partygoers. He starts over in his direction and then pauses, his head cocking to the side. He rubs his arms for a moment, and says, "What the hell is that?" He blinks and glances around the roof.

"Like that ever stopped me," Dusk murmurs under his breath, holding his can up to his lips to further guard his words. Another sip given, his visual attention hasn't deviated from the devices. Paparazzi. The lengths that they'll go to. Rolling his eyes in time to having his shoulder patted, Dusk smiles broadly. "Gracias, mujer Hermosa, pero regreso a mi bomboncita." He winks, suggestively down at her, then gestures towards to the south-west (someone's using the map), the nearest edge from the grill. "I get turned in to a pumpkin if I don't flee from photographers using drones."

Marshall catches only half of what Dusk was saying - since he doesn't speak Spanish - but did hear the word 'drone' and he can't help but ask the guy a quesiton. "Did you say drones? They do that?" The very idea that someone could be using drones to photograph someone on a rooftop is, at least to the host, rather odd and a bit spooky by the look on his face.

Jacob moves over to the cooler and grabs a sprite for him and offers it to Marshall. He looks up to see if there was a drone around or not frowning somewhat.

Tony tenses then, and moves over to Dusk as he is the only one he really knows here. "Are you famous, dude? I mean it looks like a f'ing army of them things are comin' this way. Alex is in security 'n them things kin take pictures, video... 'n there's more comin' in from all directions. This gives me the creeps."

Meek about his celebrity status, Dusk takes a couple of steps towards the way out and then pauses. The look of stupefaction comes over his face as he stops and looks. Not at Hungry Hannah; although, please say someone is recording that. No.

Dusk points the forefinger of the hand holding the diet coke can and asks in bewilderment, "Is that? No. Wait. Is that really? A. Hot tub?" He looks down at the can in his hand and then over his shoulder to their host, "There's been a hot tub up here all the time?" At Antonio's question, Dusk ducks his head in surprise. Where'd he come from? It's written on Dusk's visage. "Uh," Dusk starts to say, and looking back, this time to the nearest drone, "Yeah," he says timidly, then adds to downplay it, "Something like that."

Tony begins to back up a bit then, and nudges at Dusk trying to urge him over towards the structures. "Them things they are on the bottom of 'em I ain't so sure are cameras, man... they might be some type of weapon."

"Oh a pumpkin, huh? Well that's fair." Yaretzi offers, plucking another little piece off of her hamburger patty and popping it into her mouth. "Why are they following you for?" She has no idea. She's been living under a rock in an almost literal sense, so she has no idea who is who, or what is popular, or where the sweet twitter birds go to roost. Nothing. She frowns, and lifts a hand to her ear, as if that buzzing is bothering her on a sub-harmonic level that her brain hasn't entirely processed, but that is still putting increasing pressure on her person. She glances at Tony, and then off to the side again, but doesn't answer, because she doesn't know. And then she spots it. Oh. "Well, that's weird. What are they hoping to find out? What kind of beer you like?" She says in a tone of voice that suggests that this is asinine. At the mention of a hot tub though, her head swivels, and she peers with keen interest in the general direction of the tub. Another bite of beef is had. Yaretzi asks the important questions. "Where did you get a diet coke?"

Marshall blinks at what Tony said, still somewhat focusing upon the burgers on the grill to make sure that the food doesn't burn. WIth the music in the background most of the others at the fire pit doesn't seem to have noticed the small red lights converging around the roof.

Heading up to the roof is Troy with his guitar. He's wearing a snug, clean black shirt and a pair of freshly washed jeans. "Hey!" He calls out happily as he takes in a deep breath of air. "Sorry I'm late, my man." He calls out to Marshall once he spies him, though his head tilts upwards at something that catches his attention.

"What kind of paparazzi wants to hurt a celebrity?" asks Dusk, canting his head slightly, enough so Antonio can get a look at the look of disbelief on Dusk's visage. He gives three shakes of his head and rolls his eyes before he nods towards the exit. "Still; I'd better get out of here. Then they'll leave the rest of you guys alone." Turning around, Dusk takes two long steps, before his pace slows. "Hey, that's weird. Those lights are focused on the grill. They want to know what I'm eating."

Dusk turns around and shakes his empty fist. Over the buzz of the droning, and over music his parents listened to, Dusk shouts, "I'm not eating carbs, you creeps!" He holds up his can. "Diet! It's a Diet coke!" He lowers his tone, and points at the drinks to answer Yaretzi, "Just over there, mi vida."

The host, Marshall, is glad that Troy was able to make it and draws his attention from the 'something' that a few people seem tobe looking at beyond the ambient glow of the lights around the roof. "Hey bud," he calls out to the musician and finishes grilling the last of the burgers. "Hun..." he starts to ask but stops mid-word. Now he seems to have noticed the 'something' as well. "The hell?"

Jacob gets taken away by a drone, or he heads down stairs offering a wave to the people present.

Tony suddenly pushes Dusk away from the grill. "I don't think it's the grill, dude. I think they are focused on you." He seems concerned for the other man, even if Dusk is making light of it. He glances back to the drones, and to the others that are now getting closer "They ain't got a reason to have /that/ many for such a celeb shot. Ambs is a celebrity too, and never seen that many unless it is every paper 'n net blogger in the city."

Look. When you are hungry, and high and you've had one of those weeks, it's the little things that just. Fill you with so much joy. She glances toward the cooler,and makes this happy little chirping sound, before setting her plate down---empty and forgotten!---and scooting toward the cooler. It appears that diet coke is really up her alley at the moment. "Hey, why does it matter what you eat? Like I'm not---I'm not judging." She pauses to crack open her diet coke---it makes the happiest little sound. "But why? Like are you pretending to have a peanut allergy or something?" For tweets? She doesn't know how that works...

She takes a delicious sip of her drink---her eyes flutter happily, and she returns to her abandoned plate, glancing down at the remnants of her meal, and then turning back toward the grill with a determination that suggests she plans on rectifying the situation immediately and with prejudice. "I will admit, I don't really know how this thing works, but why do you care if they know you like carbs?" She glances at Marshall for some sort of support. Antonio's physical insistence gets a long look from the woman. "So you think they're going to blow us up. Why? Because the lights are too blinky?"

Glancing upwards to the sky at the drones, Troy gives a bit of a pause. "Uh.. what's going on? What's up with that?" He asks as he stares at the devices for a moment, then glances upwards at the buzzing noise as well.. As his eyes trail over towards the group, his gaze stops at Dusk for a moment, staring at him, followed by a grin. "Huh." He trails off as he makes his way closer, giving Marshall a fist bump.

The possibility that their privacy has been violated by some kind of paparazzi-styled drones is enough for some of the building's patrons to decide to leave. It's been fun, food was eaten, beer drank and names exchanged but they'd rather not have their faces show up on the news. While others discuss what is or isn't happen, some start to make their way to the elevators after helping themselves to some desserts and free drinks for the trip.

The black sky above the building is now holding six pairs of red lights and the thrumming buzz of drones. They seem to be focused on the grilling area of the roof but who knows what they're actually up to. As Dusk moves one way and then the other the drones seem to triangulate their position to keep him within their sight - like it was important that every inch of him was being observed.

(The Drone: 'http://tinyurl.com/y2ezqnvv' )

Tony glances over at Yaretzi, "'Cause I know what normal drones look like. Alex uses 'em. 'n those have somethin' funny at the bottom. Funny like maybe little guns or somethin'. A long tube like thing that ain't usually there."

Stumbling, Dusk flails his arms to keep his balance before he focuses on his shover with brows frowned. His arms open, while he mouths the words, 'What the F,' that last one almost getting out. But he's a good boy. Mostly. And good boys don't curse.

Mostly.

It's a soft shake of his head and he skoffs at Tony, then looks down at his designer clothes, covered with the Sea Shepard hoodie, as though he's making an assessment that he hadn't spilt anything on himself. There's a brush at his chest, but it's just fluff.

"Look," he puts his empty hand on his chest, "If I leave, they'll hang around for a little bit and then they'll lose interest and they'll go too. Just don't pay any attention to the local smear mags," he says to those around him, addressing them one after the other, "because they'll just print whatever they want." He gives an eye to the people already leaving, and visibly winces. "Ugh. Damnit." Then hanging his head.

Tony shrugs his thin shoulders then, but seems the nervous type when it comes to cameras and funky looking drones. He warned Dusk. Up to the man what he does about it. He takes his booze and moves over to stand behind one of the chairs.

"So you've seen every kind that exists?" She asks, although she's absolutely taking a slight step away, because it looks like Antonio is chasing Dusk away, which means the danger-magnet is about to retreat, bullets or no. "So just ignore them? And hope they don't shoot you, or blow the place up, or pelt us with paint balls, I guess." She offers, taking another bite of beef, and chewing, because calamity isn't going to ruin dinner, apparently. A sip of diet coke here, a bite of beef here, this isn't exactly a bad night, so to speak. It's a little high-key, but sometimes things just end up that way. It's whatevs. She watches Dusk be...very upset about his attire, and cocks her head, but says nothing, even as she tries to snake another burger without being spotted, because that's just the kind of lady she is. Yaretzi perks up slightly as she manages to yoink two burgers instead of one---she's very hungry. "So if they just do whatever, why do you care what they do? Like does not everyone know that they are liars, or whatever you call it when it's written down? There's a word for it, but I forget it in English."

Marshall looks at Dusk and then to a few others gathered and then back to the lights up in the sky. "This happen to you...like...a lot?" He seems both confused and curious about how someone in his building could garner -this- level of attention from someone. What did he do? Is he -that- famous?

"?La difamacion?" Dusk asks the burger thief. If he spots her snaking them, if he cares, he gives no notice. "They have lawyer tricks about avoiding libel cases. But I meant that to brace all of YOU against something you might see or read following this. Not me. I'm used to it." Holding out his hands peaceably, he addresses Marshall, "Ok. Ok. I'm sorry for ruining your party." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, vaguely indicating the buzzing drones, "I'm going to go, and take my company with me. Thanks for the invite, and if you want that introduction, come on by." He holds out his hand for a shake, "Thanks again for a good time."

Tony is elbowed lightly, "I'm pretty sure I'll be ok. All they want is a picture of me kissing a married woman."

With partly closed eyes, Dusk smirks, nay, leers at Yaretzi after saying that. If his wife was there. So dead. So very dead.

Pulling the flirt bus to the station, Dusk gives a wave, and heads for the elevator in a hurry, to slip in before the doors close.