The Flying Pussyfoot, Limbo City, Wednesday

[spin_kick_snap]

Due to owning a business, Kathy sometimes got very weird, not-at-all-related-to-her-business offers from vendors trying to establish a working relationship. Most she tossed, but occasionally something really cool would end up in her inbox. Like a pair of tickets for a Murder Mystery Dinner, taking place on a newly-renovated luxury train from the 1930s. People would sign up, choose a character from the list of possible dinner attendees, and then show up and ride the train around Limbo City for a few hours, having dinner and trying to solve the whodunnit.

Kathy had been charmed from the start and had pretty much decided to go immediately. The question of who to take was answered when she spotted that one of the characters listed was a "rich rock star."

That made it easy.

One conversation of 'You don't have to dress up and you can bring your guitar!' and 'pleeeeease, it sounds like a ton of fun!' later, and Kathy and Dante had their tickets and were waiting to board the extravagant train cars of The Flying Pussyfoot for four hours of delicious, murdery fun!

[For the poor sap who agreed to this]

Comments

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Dante shrugged easily. "Neither did I," he said. "A lot of charity stuff like this going around lately."

The city was finally getting over its shellshock.

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"See? Not only are we having fun, we're being responsible citizens," Kathy said, a phrase that was not normally associated with being cool at all, ever.

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"Can you leave like, a little bit of the fun in it?" Dante asked, sighing.

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"What?" Kathy asked, looking up at him. "I'm saying it's even more fun!"

You chose this, Dante.

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"I know, but who ever has fun for the greater good?" Dante sighed.

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Kathy raised her hand slightly, just enough for Dante to see. "Do you not remember me in high school?"

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"Right, you're a fuckin' nerd," Dante sighed.

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"How did you possibly forget that while in the middle of a Murder Mystery train car?" Kathy asked, snickering. "And anyway, don't be a brat. You like taking care of your city and you know it."

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"Yeah, but when you say it out loud, it becomes like fifty percent less cool," Dante complained, poking her in the side.

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Kathy ignored the poke, leaning in to whisper into Dante's ear, "When was the last time you were able to say you fucked me on the sly for the greater good, huh?"

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"Oof," Dante said, making an exaggerated face. "Foul play, Kat."

Going by his smirk, he was into it.

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"Weird," Kathy said, tapping her finger on the side of her cheek. "I said that out loud and yet it still seems pretty cool. Huh."

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"The f-word has that effect on shit," Dante informed her. "Doesn't count."

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"Say that later when we find an unoccupied compartment," Kathy said, entirely too cheerfully.

Trolling your boyfriend was not getting into character, Katherine.

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Dante poked her in the side. "Aren't we supposed to mingle?"

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"Keep poking me and Miss Hana Li will have you ejected from the train," she declared. "I'm a lady."

And with that, she was sauntering off to help herself to one of the champagne flutes on the marble-topped bar.

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante shook his head, laughing softly.

He went for the beer, a few feet away, grinning and winking at an older lady as he passed by her.

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The older lady chuckled and blushed, waving her hand at him in an 'Oh you' gesture. From her vantage point at the bar, Kathy smiled into her drink, content for the moment to watch Dante work the room.

Did he realize how good at his he was?

[rebelseekspizza]

He didn't. He just liked doing it. Leaning over the bar, reaching for that beer, trading a couple of easy words with a sixty-year-old man who'd been sitting there on his own. Maybe it wasn't in character, even if he put on a silly accent for it.

But hey, it was nice to get a few smiles here and there, right?

... So maybe getting back to Kathy after getting that beer took a few minutes longer than necessary.

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By that point, Kathy had gotten drawn into a conversation of her own, talking in character about what musicals she'd been in to a middle-aged couple who were apparently a playwright and her muse. They were cribbing much of their storyline from Specter at the Musical, but that just meant that they were all having fun slipping in as many references as they could into the conversation at large.

Kathy had relaxed a little, expression open and smiling, even if she was holding herself a little taller and straighter as 'Hana,' her eyebrow ever-so-slightly arched.

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Dante returned to her with his beer in hand, his guitar still slung casually over his shoulder.

He came to a stop next to the older couple and said nothing for a little while, listening in.

"So do you only do classic Broadway, or...?"

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Kathy - err, Hana - turned to him and that eyebrow inched up just a little higher. "What do you mean 'Classic Broadway'?" she asked, voice huskier than normal. "Broadway from the Golden Age or Broadway in general, Mr...?"

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Fuck. Names. He needed a name.

Dante thought of the first random city he could think of that he hadn't heard of in Fandom before and might be new to Kathy. "Redgrave," he said. "Tony Redgrave. Just wondering if you do rock operas too."

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"A pleasure, Mr. Redgrave," Kathy said, with just the slightest of stresses on the word 'pleasure.' "And, yes, I've done a few rock operas in my day. Who doesn't want to have the chance to just let go behind the mic?"

[rebelseekspizza]

"See, that's what I say every night," Dante said, winking. "Gotta scream it all out a little."