Routine (open to Logan or Ivy or both)
Lorne settled nicely back into life in the City, once it stopped making him behave like a human child. The masquerade, the hat, snappy as it'd been... he'd had to do a lot of explaining to Fred, and a few other people, that mid-twenties for him was a lot like the terrible twos for humans.
His Sea Breeze intake was increasing.
While grateful for the City's gift of Caritas, Lorne didn't care for the up-in-the-air way in which it functioned. LA was good, it was predictable, mostly. Bad things happened to good people, sure... but it was unlikely you were going to be institutionalized, turn into a child and receive myriad messages about a personal ad you didn't place.
The outside observer would not know anything at all was getting to Lorne. Business as usual was exactly that--business as usual. The music played, the booze flowed, the wings were served hot.
On this particular night, after offering a comic book character he didn't recognize a little advice on how to cope with his loss of nemesis, Lorne sat on the edge of the club's stage with a mic in his hand and a huge smile on his face. He handed the mic off to the next willing singer, who chose to belt out a version of a Pink song that actually half made him wince.
He smiled at patrons as he walked past, and offered to refresh their drinks. When he got to the bar, he held his own glass out, with wide eyes, and nodded heartily. He hardly noticed the person on the stool to his right.