((So here's the party, finally! Just a note before you post, there's going to be a subforum for the party, so if you want to start your own thread in the middle of the actual party, go ahead. This is just for when it starts.))
((Justin Corrigan continued from Attack Of The Fifty Foot Cliche!))
Okay, one last mirror check.
Hair... dry and set in a nice position. Messy, but still framing my face okay. Jeans... tight enough that they show off my legs and ass but I can still dance and move around all right. Fly is zipped... wouldn't want a repeat of the last party. Gawd, could you imagine... Shirt... wrinkle-free, unbuttoned just enough to show my collarbone without looking too skanky. Shoes aren't too new in case of puking... Cologne is on, smells fricking hot... Face is smooth... Shit, that's not a pimple coming in, is it... fuck, I eat ONE chocolate bar and this is what I get. I barely even LIKE chocolate, WHAT was I thinking... Oh well, at least it's not noticeable yet. You still got it, Justin. Time to go get plastered and look good doing it.
Justin turned from the mirror in his room, but couldn't resist one final look-over before closing the door, exiting and descending the staircase into the den. Taking his steps slowly and marvelling at the empty house before him, he felt like a king surveying his kingdom. No one else was home, he had completely free reign, he was in fucking charge for the night, and this was HIS party. He planned it, he spread the word, got everyone excited, all of this was his doing, he conjured it up out of thin air... sure, this wasn't exactly the first party he'd thrown like this, but the feeling never got old. Besides, as long as he was waiting for people to show up, there wasn't much else to do but gloat for a while.
He took a quick glance into the kitchen, tallying the liquor he had on hand for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. There were the two kegs of beer Daphne had bought, (Which he still owed her for...) the six pack of Mike's in his mini-fridge left over from the last party that no one had touched, and a bottle of wine Mom and Dad had bought months ago for their anniversary but forgotten about - they probably wouldn't notice if anyone drank that. Grabbing one of the red plastic cups from the veritable mountain of them on the counter, Justin then moved one of the kegs to the edge, twisted the handle and poured himself some beer. Might as well get a head start while he had the chance. Too bad he hadn't thought to get vodka somehow - but chances are somebody that was coming would bring some. If the number of people Justin thought were coming actually showed up, and even just half of them brought booze, they'd be set for the night without a doubt. And he only had to pay for two kegs. Fuck, he was awesome.
Taking intermittent sips from the cup, Justin moved on to the den, making sure that the stereo was set up all right, his iPod connected, and his party playlist was all in order. Now this, this was what made the party. Next to his television, the stereo was Justin's favorite posession - it was his baby. He had saved for MONTHS for that thing. And sure, most of his "saving" involved dropping subtle hints to his parents that he needed money for gas or food, setting aside the allowance he barely did any work for, or at worst selling the occasional blunt he could bum off of Frankie to some freshman that had no idea what a good price for weed was... but the point was, it had taken a lot of self-control not to spend any money for that long. Getting his hands on that system was a labor of love. And fuck was it sweet - speakers inside the house and out and bass heavy enough to wake the dead. Not to mention his playlist, which he constantly updating for each party. It was the perfect mix between trashy hip-hop, trashy dance and just straight-up trashy. All the greats were on there; Kanye, Kelly Clarkson, Rihanna, Britney, 50 Cent... you know, enough stuff to keep everybody happy. Oh, yeah. This was gonna be one for the books.
Justin fiddled with the knobs on the stereo for a bit before starting the playlist off - the bass shook the walls just a bit, but the sound wasn't deafening. Got to save that for when the actual partying starts.
Okay... guess I just gotta wait now.
It felt like a long wait, but maybe that was just impatience.
Justin sat on the couch, ran a hand through his hair, fidgeted with one of the buttons on his shirt, stood up, drained his cup, laid back down, fidgeted some more. He wondered if he should grab a second cup, but decided against it. Don't want to drink too much on your own, that takes all the fun out of it. But, god, people needed to hurry the fuck up... didn't they know what they were holding up?!
((Justin Corrigan continued in Decisions, Decisions))
High Gloss Highs
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landlocked†
- Posts: 99
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2018 9:03 am
High Gloss Highs
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((Peter Siu continued from Reflections of an Alcoholic))
Peter checked his watch again, for like the tenth time in the past five minutes. He was just a bit nervous about going inside. Yeah, he was a bit early, and he didn't see any other cars parked nearby. I didn't want to be the first person to show up. That'd be weird, right?
Quit your whining. Just get up off your ass and get in there
Maybe some people had already walked here. Peter could definitely hear the music booming from the not-thick-enough windows of the house. Yeah, that was it. I'm not too early. I have to go in there eventually anyway.
Move faster so you can get boozed up earlier!
Peter looked over his choice of clothes for the night once more. He had opted for a black shirt for tonight, since it'd be a little bit harder to stain than the whites he generally wore to school. A silver-white tie was loosely tied around his neck, enhancing the 'spiffy but casual' look he loved so much. Loose black jean and dirty white basketball shoes completed the outfit; Peter really couldn't be bothered to clean his shoes so he let them get as dirty as time passed. And plus, clean shoes would probably get dirty at the party anyway, so he may as well pre-empt that.
Stop stalling!
Oh right, the party.
Grabbing the plastic bag with his contribution for the night, Peter got out of his car and headed for the door. Why did I bring the car tonight? I'm gonna need to sober up before I leave, or figure something else out. Peter pushed the thoughts away and knocked on the door. He waited a moment, then it dawned on him that the door would probably be unlocked to facilitate the flux of people. So he just turned the knob and pushed into the house.
Operation Get Into the Goddamn House is now complete. Commencing Operation Get Fucking Hammered For the Next Few Hours
Peter looked around. Not a soul in sight. The music was still playing, but it was now on some terrible rap "song". He took a few steps and then caught a glimpse of Justin's bright blonde hair from the corner of his eye, so he turned and walked over to the other boy, resting comfortably on a large couch.
Peter and Justin sitting in a tree...
"So," Peter said after a moment, "guess I'm the first one here?"
Doing things you wouldn't wanna see...
There was a moment of silence as Peter tried to piece together some semblance of a conversation in his head.
Just go get drunk first. Then think about getting in somebody's pants
"I uh... brought some stuff for the party," Peter said, holding up the heavy plastic bag. "There's some rum, some tequila, and some pop for mixing. Should I put it in the fridge for now?"
Yeah, maybe he was a bit early. His watch had told him that too.
Peter checked his watch again, for like the tenth time in the past five minutes. He was just a bit nervous about going inside. Yeah, he was a bit early, and he didn't see any other cars parked nearby. I didn't want to be the first person to show up. That'd be weird, right?
Quit your whining. Just get up off your ass and get in there
Maybe some people had already walked here. Peter could definitely hear the music booming from the not-thick-enough windows of the house. Yeah, that was it. I'm not too early. I have to go in there eventually anyway.
Move faster so you can get boozed up earlier!
Peter looked over his choice of clothes for the night once more. He had opted for a black shirt for tonight, since it'd be a little bit harder to stain than the whites he generally wore to school. A silver-white tie was loosely tied around his neck, enhancing the 'spiffy but casual' look he loved so much. Loose black jean and dirty white basketball shoes completed the outfit; Peter really couldn't be bothered to clean his shoes so he let them get as dirty as time passed. And plus, clean shoes would probably get dirty at the party anyway, so he may as well pre-empt that.
Stop stalling!
Oh right, the party.
Grabbing the plastic bag with his contribution for the night, Peter got out of his car and headed for the door. Why did I bring the car tonight? I'm gonna need to sober up before I leave, or figure something else out. Peter pushed the thoughts away and knocked on the door. He waited a moment, then it dawned on him that the door would probably be unlocked to facilitate the flux of people. So he just turned the knob and pushed into the house.
Operation Get Into the Goddamn House is now complete. Commencing Operation Get Fucking Hammered For the Next Few Hours
Peter looked around. Not a soul in sight. The music was still playing, but it was now on some terrible rap "song". He took a few steps and then caught a glimpse of Justin's bright blonde hair from the corner of his eye, so he turned and walked over to the other boy, resting comfortably on a large couch.
Peter and Justin sitting in a tree...
"So," Peter said after a moment, "guess I'm the first one here?"
Doing things you wouldn't wanna see...
There was a moment of silence as Peter tried to piece together some semblance of a conversation in his head.
Just go get drunk first. Then think about getting in somebody's pants
"I uh... brought some stuff for the party," Peter said, holding up the heavy plastic bag. "There's some rum, some tequila, and some pop for mixing. Should I put it in the fridge for now?"
Yeah, maybe he was a bit early. His watch had told him that too.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
((Enter Kimberly Nguyen))
Kimberly Nguyen was ready to party. She wasn't that much of a party person normally, they were so loud and crazy that it was hard to think, but this was a special occasion. This was Justin Corrigan's big party, and probably half of the graduating class was supposed to show up. She couldn't possibly miss something like this.
The only slight difficulty was, Kimberly didn't exactly remember who had invited her. She was sure someone had, otherwise she wouldn't be here, but no matter how much she wracked her brains, she couldn't figure out who. Oh well. There would be so many people here that it didn't really matter. The odds were no one would even notice her.
She had arrived in the neighborhood in one of the least dignified manners possible: the bus, second only to being dropped off by one's parents or legal guardians in terms of humiliation, and, since she didn't usually take the bus, she had alloted too much time and had turned up early.
Way early, by the looks of things.
There were a couple of cars, and some people were heading in the direction of the house that she thought was Justin's, but not nearly enough for an event like this. She shifted the bag she was carrying (it contained a bottle of vodka she'd managed to liberate from her grandparents cabinet; they'd notice, but they wouldn't say anything) and checked her watch. Huh. Yeah, she was a good bit early. Still, better to be early than to stand around outside for ages looking like a dope. Of course, if she had a reason to be outside, then everything would be alright, and she wouldn't look bad at all.
She fished a cigarette out of her purse, lit it, and began to smoke it very slowly. As she did so, she took stock of herself.
She was wearing what she hoped was appropriate party clothing: super tight black jeans, a tight tanktop, cut low but not too low, fishnet gloves that went to her elbows, a hoodie over the whole thing (that would come off before long, though; with as many people as seemed sure to turn up the house would quickly become an oven), her square glasses, and, of course, her favorite fedora, the black one with the checkered band. For footwear, she had opted for standard tennis shoes. Boots would be excruciating after a couple of hours.
She milled around for a bit, finished her cigarette, checked her watch, fidgeted with her purse, checked her watch again, got impatient, and finally just walked up to the door. She thought a couple of people had trickled in. At least one.
Kimberly walked right in the door, not bothering to knock. It wasn't like the party was super private or anything. She glanced around inside, and immediately saw two people: Peter Siu, a nice enough fellow who Kimberly had seen around school a good deal, often eating, and Justin himself, the man in charge of the night's festivities.
Wow, where the heck is everyone?
"Hi Justin!" she said cheerfully, brushing her blond lock of hair out of her eyes (she loved her hairstyle, but that lock always got in her eyes), "I see, uh, that the party's still getting started.
"I brought some vodka. Where d'you want it?"
Kimberly Nguyen was ready to party. She wasn't that much of a party person normally, they were so loud and crazy that it was hard to think, but this was a special occasion. This was Justin Corrigan's big party, and probably half of the graduating class was supposed to show up. She couldn't possibly miss something like this.
The only slight difficulty was, Kimberly didn't exactly remember who had invited her. She was sure someone had, otherwise she wouldn't be here, but no matter how much she wracked her brains, she couldn't figure out who. Oh well. There would be so many people here that it didn't really matter. The odds were no one would even notice her.
She had arrived in the neighborhood in one of the least dignified manners possible: the bus, second only to being dropped off by one's parents or legal guardians in terms of humiliation, and, since she didn't usually take the bus, she had alloted too much time and had turned up early.
Way early, by the looks of things.
There were a couple of cars, and some people were heading in the direction of the house that she thought was Justin's, but not nearly enough for an event like this. She shifted the bag she was carrying (it contained a bottle of vodka she'd managed to liberate from her grandparents cabinet; they'd notice, but they wouldn't say anything) and checked her watch. Huh. Yeah, she was a good bit early. Still, better to be early than to stand around outside for ages looking like a dope. Of course, if she had a reason to be outside, then everything would be alright, and she wouldn't look bad at all.
She fished a cigarette out of her purse, lit it, and began to smoke it very slowly. As she did so, she took stock of herself.
She was wearing what she hoped was appropriate party clothing: super tight black jeans, a tight tanktop, cut low but not too low, fishnet gloves that went to her elbows, a hoodie over the whole thing (that would come off before long, though; with as many people as seemed sure to turn up the house would quickly become an oven), her square glasses, and, of course, her favorite fedora, the black one with the checkered band. For footwear, she had opted for standard tennis shoes. Boots would be excruciating after a couple of hours.
She milled around for a bit, finished her cigarette, checked her watch, fidgeted with her purse, checked her watch again, got impatient, and finally just walked up to the door. She thought a couple of people had trickled in. At least one.
Kimberly walked right in the door, not bothering to knock. It wasn't like the party was super private or anything. She glanced around inside, and immediately saw two people: Peter Siu, a nice enough fellow who Kimberly had seen around school a good deal, often eating, and Justin himself, the man in charge of the night's festivities.
Wow, where the heck is everyone?
"Hi Justin!" she said cheerfully, brushing her blond lock of hair out of her eyes (she loved her hairstyle, but that lock always got in her eyes), "I see, uh, that the party's still getting started.
"I brought some vodka. Where d'you want it?"
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Sunnybunny
- Posts: 384
- Joined: Fri May 17, 2019 7:35 pm
((Opening post of Feo Eleri Smith))
I make braces and glasses look good. Oh hell yes I do.
Feo was having a particularly good night tonight, and that was before she even got to Justin's house. She had gone to the beer store to score a 24-pack. She pulled out her cash and her fake id, and the guy (old, with a major pedo vibe) told her to keep her money, and threw in some Corona for free. Hey, the more booze the better, right? It took her about an hour to get to Justin's. Damn, all the sexing, drugging, and fighting might have already started.
Corrigan's parties tended to be . . . memorable. Once, she'd gotten so fucked up, she woke up outside her house the next day with no idea how she got there and a number in her pocket that was too messy to read. Wish I remembered who's that was. That was the last time she did keg stands, jello shots AND got high in two hours. When Feo got loose, she was capable of doing anything.
Pulling her blue Focus onto the street, she only saw a couple of cars. She was surprised no one was here yet, but maybe they were getting hammered ahead of time. She checked her reflection. She wore a blue and green iredes . . . iradesne . . color-changing baseball cap with a black collared shirt, blue-jean short-shorts, and yes, two-inch heels to match the hat. She never left her shoe swagger at home. She grabbed the beer and walked up to the door.
God, I hope he didn't invite too many snobs to this thing. I don't wanna stop my good times to put a log out of someone else's ass. With such a big party though, it shouldn't matter much. So many catty bitches in one place, makes me sick.
She walked in and scanned the room. She saw Kimberly Nguy-something or other, who was pretty cool for an emo chick, and Peter Siu, kind-of-quiet cutie who always had something in his mouth. Hmm . . . best to not get in that state of mind too early. And they both had treats of the alcoholic variety. This was gonna be one hell of a night.
She put her stuff in the kitchen and went back to the living room to greet everyone. "Guess we got the party started a little early, huh?" She smiled at the group. She walked over to over to the couch and slipped a baggie in Justin's pocket. Feo knew what he liked, and she had brought him one dime sack of the good stuff. Costed her a good thirty-five bucks, but it would pay back in spades. She hadn't gotten personally invited to this party for her stunning good looks, after all.
I make braces and glasses look good. Oh hell yes I do.
Feo was having a particularly good night tonight, and that was before she even got to Justin's house. She had gone to the beer store to score a 24-pack. She pulled out her cash and her fake id, and the guy (old, with a major pedo vibe) told her to keep her money, and threw in some Corona for free. Hey, the more booze the better, right? It took her about an hour to get to Justin's. Damn, all the sexing, drugging, and fighting might have already started.
Corrigan's parties tended to be . . . memorable. Once, she'd gotten so fucked up, she woke up outside her house the next day with no idea how she got there and a number in her pocket that was too messy to read. Wish I remembered who's that was. That was the last time she did keg stands, jello shots AND got high in two hours. When Feo got loose, she was capable of doing anything.
Pulling her blue Focus onto the street, she only saw a couple of cars. She was surprised no one was here yet, but maybe they were getting hammered ahead of time. She checked her reflection. She wore a blue and green iredes . . . iradesne . . color-changing baseball cap with a black collared shirt, blue-jean short-shorts, and yes, two-inch heels to match the hat. She never left her shoe swagger at home. She grabbed the beer and walked up to the door.
God, I hope he didn't invite too many snobs to this thing. I don't wanna stop my good times to put a log out of someone else's ass. With such a big party though, it shouldn't matter much. So many catty bitches in one place, makes me sick.
She walked in and scanned the room. She saw Kimberly Nguy-something or other, who was pretty cool for an emo chick, and Peter Siu, kind-of-quiet cutie who always had something in his mouth. Hmm . . . best to not get in that state of mind too early. And they both had treats of the alcoholic variety. This was gonna be one hell of a night.
She put her stuff in the kitchen and went back to the living room to greet everyone. "Guess we got the party started a little early, huh?" She smiled at the group. She walked over to over to the couch and slipped a baggie in Justin's pocket. Feo knew what he liked, and she had brought him one dime sack of the good stuff. Costed her a good thirty-five bucks, but it would pay back in spades. She hadn't gotten personally invited to this party for her stunning good looks, after all.
VII
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
(Wayne West continued from Crazy Sunshine)
Wayne West was not a drinker. He did not do drugs and he'd never broken the law in his life. But that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy a good party. After all, who didn't enjoy a good night of listening to good music and hanging out with good friends?
Justin Corrigan was infamous for his unforgettable parties. And this was supposed to be the party to end all parties. Most of the graduating class planned on attending. Of course, so far only a handful of cars seemed to have parked outside, so there didn't seem to be many party goers at the moment.
There was Justin, of course. Nice kid, but Wayne barely even knew him. Feo Eleri Smith had also arrived. She was a beautiful young woman, but not the sort of person who ever paid attention to Wayne. Peter Siu was a nice enough kid, just not somebody who Wayne really hung out with. And of course there was also Kim Nguyen. In all honesty, she scared the crap out of him. It wasn't anything personal, Wayne just found Goths creepy in general.
Huh. I'd kind of hoped that somebody I'm actually friends with would be here by now...
"Hi, everybody." Wayne said, as he strolled over to a couch and took a seat. "So this is it so far?"
((Wayne West continued in Decisions, Decisions))
Wayne West was not a drinker. He did not do drugs and he'd never broken the law in his life. But that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy a good party. After all, who didn't enjoy a good night of listening to good music and hanging out with good friends?
Justin Corrigan was infamous for his unforgettable parties. And this was supposed to be the party to end all parties. Most of the graduating class planned on attending. Of course, so far only a handful of cars seemed to have parked outside, so there didn't seem to be many party goers at the moment.
There was Justin, of course. Nice kid, but Wayne barely even knew him. Feo Eleri Smith had also arrived. She was a beautiful young woman, but not the sort of person who ever paid attention to Wayne. Peter Siu was a nice enough kid, just not somebody who Wayne really hung out with. And of course there was also Kim Nguyen. In all honesty, she scared the crap out of him. It wasn't anything personal, Wayne just found Goths creepy in general.
Huh. I'd kind of hoped that somebody I'm actually friends with would be here by now...
"Hi, everybody." Wayne said, as he strolled over to a couch and took a seat. "So this is it so far?"
((Wayne West continued in Decisions, Decisions))
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Hallucinojelly†
- Posts: 133
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:17 am
((Leila Langford continued from Murder At Macy's))
((Hilary Strand continued from Naked Ambition))
Leila Langford and Hilary Strand. The two had arrived at Justin's door, but before they knocked they made sure they had everything they needed to have a good time. Inside the handbag Leila held by her side there sat an innocent bottle of what appeared to be water. Pressing her palm against it, she could feel the chilled liquid lapping around the container, bringing a wry curve to her freshly-glossed lips. She stood poised in the doorway, ready to step inside and show them all how to have a truly memorable night when Hilary's elbow collided with her shoulder.
"What're you doing?" She hissed.
"Ah! Sorry, I'm just trying to finish my mascara. I didn't put enough on, so now I look crazy."
Leila rolled her eyes as she stepped in front of her friend and took the mascara and mirror out of her hands.
"Get all this gloopy shit off the stick, then sweep."
Her hand held steady as she swept the brush lightly across the lashes, tracing a shadow around her eyes as she did her best to even them out.
"There. That should do it."
Hilary smiled as she took back her things and put them into her purse, then flicked away a bug that had landed on her skirt.
"You think this suits me? I couldn't decide between this and the one with the lace straps."
Leila nodded as she checked her hair in the window, then turned back to compare their outfits. The taller of the two, she chose to wear a lime green low-cut dress with a pair of gold-strapped stilettos to make herself stand out considerably more so than her friend. The shorter of the two, Hilary had decided on a plain white shirt combined with a black pencil skirt, giving her an oddly bookish appearance by comparison. Glancing readily to one another, Leila rapped her knuckles against the wood and waited to be let inside.
I wonder if he's here. Hilary thought to herself.
((Leila Langford continued in Decisions, Decisions))
((Hilary Strand continued from Naked Ambition))
Leila Langford and Hilary Strand. The two had arrived at Justin's door, but before they knocked they made sure they had everything they needed to have a good time. Inside the handbag Leila held by her side there sat an innocent bottle of what appeared to be water. Pressing her palm against it, she could feel the chilled liquid lapping around the container, bringing a wry curve to her freshly-glossed lips. She stood poised in the doorway, ready to step inside and show them all how to have a truly memorable night when Hilary's elbow collided with her shoulder.
"What're you doing?" She hissed.
"Ah! Sorry, I'm just trying to finish my mascara. I didn't put enough on, so now I look crazy."
Leila rolled her eyes as she stepped in front of her friend and took the mascara and mirror out of her hands.
"Get all this gloopy shit off the stick, then sweep."
Her hand held steady as she swept the brush lightly across the lashes, tracing a shadow around her eyes as she did her best to even them out.
"There. That should do it."
Hilary smiled as she took back her things and put them into her purse, then flicked away a bug that had landed on her skirt.
"You think this suits me? I couldn't decide between this and the one with the lace straps."
Leila nodded as she checked her hair in the window, then turned back to compare their outfits. The taller of the two, she chose to wear a lime green low-cut dress with a pair of gold-strapped stilettos to make herself stand out considerably more so than her friend. The shorter of the two, Hilary had decided on a plain white shirt combined with a black pencil skirt, giving her an oddly bookish appearance by comparison. Glancing readily to one another, Leila rapped her knuckles against the wood and waited to be let inside.
I wonder if he's here. Hilary thought to herself.
((Leila Langford continued in Decisions, Decisions))
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
((Alrighty guys, Land's gone, and it sounds like he's not coming back. Solomir has granted me permission to break post order and get the thread moving again. With any luck, the party will go strong! It sounds like there will not be a party subforum after all, so if you move to a different thread that takes place at the party, just subtitle it "Party" (and "Content Warning", if applicable) so people can tell which threads are part of the party. I'm time-skipping things a touch just so we can actually get the party going and avoid awkwardness with Justin disappearing.))
The party was really getting moving now. All sorts of people had showed up, the music was blasting nice and loud, people were dancing, singing, drinking (lots of drinking), and generally having a good time. Some people were smoking (tobacco and other chemicals of various sorts), but most of that was going on outside, where it wouldn't foul up the air in the house.
Well, foul it up more than it already was. Kimberly inhaled deeply through her nose, and caught the pungent odor of dozens of sweaty bodies crammed into an enclosed space. She'd ditched her hoodie ten minutes ago, and was now standing off to the side of the area people had begun to use as a dance floor, holding a plastic cup full of beer. She'd taken a shot of vodka, but vodka wasn't really her thing. It had no flavor to it; it was like drinking a small bit of fire. That sounded all nice and poetic, but wasn't such a fun reality. The beer in her hand was only her second drink, which was probably for the best; she didn't want to get completely plastered yet, maybe not at all.
Some of the dancers were getting pretty into it, grinding their hips against each other. Kimberly was almost tempted to join in. She didn't really want some creepy guy she'd never met before putting his hands all over her, though, not in that type of situation. She took a sip of the beer. It was slightly warm. She liked it better that way. It let her taste it more; any drink that was too cold just tasted like ice to her.
Somehow, in the midst of the party, Kimberly had lost track of the host. She supposed Justin was probably about somewhere, but, now that there were actually people here, it didn't really matter so much. There was a pretty good supply of alcohol, and she was sure there was a good amount of drugs floating around (though she'd decided to stay clean of those tonight) so there really wasn't anything else Justin needed to do. He was probably just enjoying himself somewhere.
Maybe enjoying another guy...
Kimberly wasn't sure if there were rooms available for the... amorous pursuits of the partygoers. With a party like this, though, she was willing to bet that there were. After all, people were going to get drunk and high and probably do all sorts of wild things, some of which they just couldn't do in front of others.
The party was really getting moving now. All sorts of people had showed up, the music was blasting nice and loud, people were dancing, singing, drinking (lots of drinking), and generally having a good time. Some people were smoking (tobacco and other chemicals of various sorts), but most of that was going on outside, where it wouldn't foul up the air in the house.
Well, foul it up more than it already was. Kimberly inhaled deeply through her nose, and caught the pungent odor of dozens of sweaty bodies crammed into an enclosed space. She'd ditched her hoodie ten minutes ago, and was now standing off to the side of the area people had begun to use as a dance floor, holding a plastic cup full of beer. She'd taken a shot of vodka, but vodka wasn't really her thing. It had no flavor to it; it was like drinking a small bit of fire. That sounded all nice and poetic, but wasn't such a fun reality. The beer in her hand was only her second drink, which was probably for the best; she didn't want to get completely plastered yet, maybe not at all.
Some of the dancers were getting pretty into it, grinding their hips against each other. Kimberly was almost tempted to join in. She didn't really want some creepy guy she'd never met before putting his hands all over her, though, not in that type of situation. She took a sip of the beer. It was slightly warm. She liked it better that way. It let her taste it more; any drink that was too cold just tasted like ice to her.
Somehow, in the midst of the party, Kimberly had lost track of the host. She supposed Justin was probably about somewhere, but, now that there were actually people here, it didn't really matter so much. There was a pretty good supply of alcohol, and she was sure there was a good amount of drugs floating around (though she'd decided to stay clean of those tonight) so there really wasn't anything else Justin needed to do. He was probably just enjoying himself somewhere.
Maybe enjoying another guy...
Kimberly wasn't sure if there were rooms available for the... amorous pursuits of the partygoers. With a party like this, though, she was willing to bet that there were. After all, people were going to get drunk and high and probably do all sorts of wild things, some of which they just couldn't do in front of others.
There were pros and cons of drinking. The pros were that having a buzz felt awesome. It was so much easier to be a little less restrained and just say shit. And mixing green apple Sour Puss with Sprite tasted good.
The cons were that the more drunk one got, the harder it would be to stand up and walk straight. Plus the puking. There were the hangovers the morning after, and before that, showing up home drunk and trying to hide it from the 'rents. Also, alcohol was expensive, and Peter always sobered up quickly, making the buzz expensive to maintain.
Which was why Peter liked being at house parties. He could bring a bottle or two, and then drink three other people's contributions. It was a bit annoying to have to watch how much he drank, especially in the last hour or so; Peter didn't want to show up at home drunk off his ass. The night was still young though, so there was much drinking to be done yet.
You've only had 3 drinks and one shot. You've got a long way to go for tonight man.
Peter took a sip from his cup, containing a haphazardly mixed screwdriver. Some people were dancing to the loud (and currently terrible) music. Some others were chilling out on the couch or playing drinking games around the coffee table. He couldn't see Justin around the house, which probably meant he was off blazing outside or possibly doing something else with someone else.
There's plenty of girls and guys here to hook up with, so don't go worrying about one silly ex.
Peter found himself standing behind little Miss Kimberly Nguyen, which he recognized from her pretty gloves. Fishnet gloves were a rarity most times, even for the eccentric fashion of Kimberly. Looking over her shoulder, he could see that her drink appeared to be a bit flat for the occasion.
Not just her drink from the looks of it.
He leaned forward a little so she could hear him over the hammering of the godawful music. Peter had a tendency to scare people by coming up behind them unexpectedly, so he hoped that he wouldn't startle the girl into dropping her drink. "Your drink's looking a bit bored of the night," he said loudly, "and so do you Kimmy. Love the gloves, by the way."
You're hitting on the Viet slut? Couldn't you go for something not as easy?
The cons were that the more drunk one got, the harder it would be to stand up and walk straight. Plus the puking. There were the hangovers the morning after, and before that, showing up home drunk and trying to hide it from the 'rents. Also, alcohol was expensive, and Peter always sobered up quickly, making the buzz expensive to maintain.
Which was why Peter liked being at house parties. He could bring a bottle or two, and then drink three other people's contributions. It was a bit annoying to have to watch how much he drank, especially in the last hour or so; Peter didn't want to show up at home drunk off his ass. The night was still young though, so there was much drinking to be done yet.
You've only had 3 drinks and one shot. You've got a long way to go for tonight man.
Peter took a sip from his cup, containing a haphazardly mixed screwdriver. Some people were dancing to the loud (and currently terrible) music. Some others were chilling out on the couch or playing drinking games around the coffee table. He couldn't see Justin around the house, which probably meant he was off blazing outside or possibly doing something else with someone else.
There's plenty of girls and guys here to hook up with, so don't go worrying about one silly ex.
Peter found himself standing behind little Miss Kimberly Nguyen, which he recognized from her pretty gloves. Fishnet gloves were a rarity most times, even for the eccentric fashion of Kimberly. Looking over her shoulder, he could see that her drink appeared to be a bit flat for the occasion.
Not just her drink from the looks of it.
He leaned forward a little so she could hear him over the hammering of the godawful music. Peter had a tendency to scare people by coming up behind them unexpectedly, so he hoped that he wouldn't startle the girl into dropping her drink. "Your drink's looking a bit bored of the night," he said loudly, "and so do you Kimmy. Love the gloves, by the way."
You're hitting on the Viet slut? Couldn't you go for something not as easy?
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-
Hallucinojelly†
- Posts: 133
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:17 am
Hilary sighed as she finished the last of her... whatever it was Leila had brought her. Sitting on top of the dresser in Justin's room, she adjusted her shirt as a couple wandered into the room, drunkenly slobbering all over each other before noticing the room was already occupied. "Hey, we're taking this room." The guy announced, grabbing Hilary by the arm and forcefully thrusting her out into the hallway as they proceeded to defile Justin's covers.
"Ah! But, my drink-"
"Fuck off!" The girl cried out, yelping afterwards as her head hit the pillow.
"Guess I'll just stay out here then..." Hilary mumbled, pressing herself against the wall to let a mob of people pass through to the bathroom.
"Yeah! Here it is!" She heard one of them shout, presumably the only one old enough to grow a beard.
Sliding awkwardly past the huddles of jocks bellowing over the music and couples making out against the walls, she tried to find somewhere quiet so she could call her parents for a ride home. After all, she had been having a fairly lousy night of it so far, and seeing as Leila had promised to come back an hour ago, she was in no mood to stick around. Especially since her friend had promised to keep her company tonight as an incentive for coming to the party, because she didn't really know anybody well enough to chat to casually while everyone else drank themselves into a stupor.
After a few minutes of ducking, diving, weaving and waving, she eventually found herself outside on the front porch, where she witnessed a haggle of girls fighting over the last of the vodka. The tallest of the girls seemed to have the upper hand, but a heavy smack to the side of her face forced her out of the running, leaving the last two girls to fight it out for that precious drop of crystal poison.
Turning her attention away from the girls for a second, she remembered why she came out here in the first place and hastily reached for her phone. Sadly, this was going to be a night of misfortune for the young blogger, as she found out, to her horror, that she had lost the phone some time ago, most likely around the time she was forced out of the lovers' retreat.
"No, not my phone! For God's saaake, this couldn't get any worse..." She whined miserably, tucking her head in between her knees as she let out a frustrated cry.
"Ah! But, my drink-"
"Fuck off!" The girl cried out, yelping afterwards as her head hit the pillow.
"Guess I'll just stay out here then..." Hilary mumbled, pressing herself against the wall to let a mob of people pass through to the bathroom.
"Yeah! Here it is!" She heard one of them shout, presumably the only one old enough to grow a beard.
Sliding awkwardly past the huddles of jocks bellowing over the music and couples making out against the walls, she tried to find somewhere quiet so she could call her parents for a ride home. After all, she had been having a fairly lousy night of it so far, and seeing as Leila had promised to come back an hour ago, she was in no mood to stick around. Especially since her friend had promised to keep her company tonight as an incentive for coming to the party, because she didn't really know anybody well enough to chat to casually while everyone else drank themselves into a stupor.
After a few minutes of ducking, diving, weaving and waving, she eventually found herself outside on the front porch, where she witnessed a haggle of girls fighting over the last of the vodka. The tallest of the girls seemed to have the upper hand, but a heavy smack to the side of her face forced her out of the running, leaving the last two girls to fight it out for that precious drop of crystal poison.
Turning her attention away from the girls for a second, she remembered why she came out here in the first place and hastily reached for her phone. Sadly, this was going to be a night of misfortune for the young blogger, as she found out, to her horror, that she had lost the phone some time ago, most likely around the time she was forced out of the lovers' retreat.
"No, not my phone! For God's saaake, this couldn't get any worse..." She whined miserably, tucking her head in between her knees as she let out a frustrated cry.
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((Brock Mason continued from: Naked Ambition))
Brock wasn't much of a party animal. He liked them well enough, true, but he didn't just plain let his hair down and go crazy. Wasn't his kind of style. Anyway, he was too concerned about football (the one thing he could claim to be good at) to try anything stupid. Besides which, even when his friends did foist drinks on him, his large size meant that he was usually little affected. Thank god for small mercies right?
Still, his cautious outlook hadn't stopped Brock from enjoying himself. This wasn't school, writing, reading, they weren't involved. Here, he could just be Brock the footballer, the 'big man'
It was... good. Less stressful.
The music was almost ear-shattering, and Brock was beginning to get a headache. Deciding that he needed to go somewhere a little quieter - at least temporarily, Brock began to nudge and shoulder his way through the throng. It was pretty easy going, because from a figure as imposing as Brock's, a nudge was fairly persuasive. Before long, Brock had made his way outside, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the sound of the music was immediately muted by the walls.
Nearby were a couple of girls scrapping, over what he couldn't fathom. Looking around, he saw somebody tucked up against the wall. Probably drunk too much or something.
"Hey," he said gently. "Feeling okay there?"
Brock wasn't much of a party animal. He liked them well enough, true, but he didn't just plain let his hair down and go crazy. Wasn't his kind of style. Anyway, he was too concerned about football (the one thing he could claim to be good at) to try anything stupid. Besides which, even when his friends did foist drinks on him, his large size meant that he was usually little affected. Thank god for small mercies right?
Still, his cautious outlook hadn't stopped Brock from enjoying himself. This wasn't school, writing, reading, they weren't involved. Here, he could just be Brock the footballer, the 'big man'
It was... good. Less stressful.
The music was almost ear-shattering, and Brock was beginning to get a headache. Deciding that he needed to go somewhere a little quieter - at least temporarily, Brock began to nudge and shoulder his way through the throng. It was pretty easy going, because from a figure as imposing as Brock's, a nudge was fairly persuasive. Before long, Brock had made his way outside, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the sound of the music was immediately muted by the walls.
Nearby were a couple of girls scrapping, over what he couldn't fathom. Looking around, he saw somebody tucked up against the wall. Probably drunk too much or something.
"Hey," he said gently. "Feeling okay there?"
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Hallucinojelly†
- Posts: 133
- Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2018 6:17 am
"...Huh?"
The blurry outline of someone familiar stood before her, looming down in silhouette as the porch lights hung brightly behind their back. Rubbing the stray tears out of her eyes, she blinked a couple of time as her vision adjusted itself.
"Oh! Brock! Hey!" She gasped, hastily getting to her feet and wiping the dirt from the back of her dress in case she had sat in something particularly foul. "I didn't know you were coming!"
A heavy thumping could've been heard by all, if the music wasn't thumping with so much bass that even if Brock held his ear to her chest, he wouldn't be able to tell what beats were hers and which were the stereo's. Not that she would've minded, she'd been thinking about him a lot lately as it happened.
Just days before the party, she'd dreamt of the two of them going out for a drive together to the countryside, where they found the old house her great aunt had lived in back in England. Everything was just how she remembered it, from the fields of yellow flowers that stretched out across the landscape to the rusted fox ornament nailed to the front door. The only thing spoiling the dream were the clouds of fire in the sky, showering the scene with a layer of ash that clung to their clothes as they made their way inside the house.
Once inside, the ash had inexplicably vanished from their bodies, and the inside of the building had become twisted and unfamiliar to her. She could remember an icy sensation taking hold of her as she stumbled up the staircase, and the way it seeped away as Brock slipped his hand into hers and pulled her away from the cold world below.
Standing face to face with Brock now, she could feel his warm breath flowing over her skin; his face obscured by an inky mist as he crouched a little to make himself seem less imposing. Leaning in towards her face, he whispered something softly in her ear- something that she couldn't make herself remember no matter how hard she tried. He took a step back into the mist, and before she realised what was happening she found herself lying awake in her bedroom covered from head to toe in goosebumps.
"...You, er, wanna get a drink or something?"
The blurry outline of someone familiar stood before her, looming down in silhouette as the porch lights hung brightly behind their back. Rubbing the stray tears out of her eyes, she blinked a couple of time as her vision adjusted itself.
"Oh! Brock! Hey!" She gasped, hastily getting to her feet and wiping the dirt from the back of her dress in case she had sat in something particularly foul. "I didn't know you were coming!"
A heavy thumping could've been heard by all, if the music wasn't thumping with so much bass that even if Brock held his ear to her chest, he wouldn't be able to tell what beats were hers and which were the stereo's. Not that she would've minded, she'd been thinking about him a lot lately as it happened.
Just days before the party, she'd dreamt of the two of them going out for a drive together to the countryside, where they found the old house her great aunt had lived in back in England. Everything was just how she remembered it, from the fields of yellow flowers that stretched out across the landscape to the rusted fox ornament nailed to the front door. The only thing spoiling the dream were the clouds of fire in the sky, showering the scene with a layer of ash that clung to their clothes as they made their way inside the house.
Once inside, the ash had inexplicably vanished from their bodies, and the inside of the building had become twisted and unfamiliar to her. She could remember an icy sensation taking hold of her as she stumbled up the staircase, and the way it seeped away as Brock slipped his hand into hers and pulled her away from the cold world below.
Standing face to face with Brock now, she could feel his warm breath flowing over her skin; his face obscured by an inky mist as he crouched a little to make himself seem less imposing. Leaning in towards her face, he whispered something softly in her ear- something that she couldn't make herself remember no matter how hard she tried. He took a step back into the mist, and before she realised what was happening she found herself lying awake in her bedroom covered from head to toe in goosebumps.
"...You, er, wanna get a drink or something?"
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(Ricky Fortino continued from Just Passing the Time...)
Fuck.
Ah, piss on that. He wasn't gonna stick around down there.
Ricky Fortino stumbled his way upstairs, cautiously sipping some godawful warm beer from a plastic cup. It was a damn good thing that he wasn't noticing the taste, that's for sure. He'd already had his share of the Sambuca after arriving, now that was a real drink, that was a man's drink, but the Sambuca was gone. Fuckin' gone. Now he was stuck with whatever the hell this was supposed to be, but whatever, at least he'd gotten the order right for fucking himself up. Wait, had he done it the right order how the hell did that thing go, it was some rhyming thing, beer before liquor, never been sicker, liquor before beer, you're in the clear. Yeah, that was it. He was fucking clear all right.
Anyway, to get back to the reason why Ricky was now winding his through the main floor, he'd been downstairs with a bunch of guys from football not the real football the other football.... yeah yeah, that football, and a bunch of 'em had been funneling when goddamn Dolson couldn't chug a damn thing and there ended up being beer all over the fucking floor and some chick got screamin' cause Dolson spewed beer all over her. Then some faggoty-looking guy he didn't know said that Corrigan was gonna be pissed at this cause cause the floor was gonna be ruined and Aaron started yelling at him and Corrigan's homo lover or whoever the fuck he was was yelling back and Ricky thought he needed some goddamn air.
That wasn't a very interesting story really. But moving along, Ricky was almost across the big whatever-the-hell-you-call-it room where people were dancing when some hobag tenth-grader what the fuck man grabbed onto him and wanted to dance or whatever and he wanted to slap the dumb broad but managed to get away and slam his way through the front door and onto the porch, where there were still too many goddamn people fuck he hated coming to the goddamn parties Corrigan threw except that there was always free booze and the rest of the teams were going, but yeah there were still too many goddamn people but at least least he could get some fresh air. Oh, he was fucking clear all right.
In fact, Ricky was so fucking clear that he didn't even notice that he'd barged right in between Brock Mason and some chick he was mackin' on wait, heh heh that's Leila's friend how the hell did Leila convince her to come here, until he'd stumbled over someone's foot and almost fell.
"Whoa! Uh...." hey Brock's an OK guy hope he didn't ruin no moment or anything wouldn't want to stop the guy from getting some "sorry there Brock. The uhhh, team's all downstairs and shit but I wouldn't go down there cause some guy got pissed and a buncha beer got spilled I'm uhhh, just getting some air I'm gonna sit down keep it real man."
Without looking, Ricky backed up a few steps and fell back into the deck chair he was pretty sure was there.
Fuck.
Ah, piss on that. He wasn't gonna stick around down there.
Ricky Fortino stumbled his way upstairs, cautiously sipping some godawful warm beer from a plastic cup. It was a damn good thing that he wasn't noticing the taste, that's for sure. He'd already had his share of the Sambuca after arriving, now that was a real drink, that was a man's drink, but the Sambuca was gone. Fuckin' gone. Now he was stuck with whatever the hell this was supposed to be, but whatever, at least he'd gotten the order right for fucking himself up. Wait, had he done it the right order how the hell did that thing go, it was some rhyming thing, beer before liquor, never been sicker, liquor before beer, you're in the clear. Yeah, that was it. He was fucking clear all right.
Anyway, to get back to the reason why Ricky was now winding his through the main floor, he'd been downstairs with a bunch of guys from football not the real football the other football.... yeah yeah, that football, and a bunch of 'em had been funneling when goddamn Dolson couldn't chug a damn thing and there ended up being beer all over the fucking floor and some chick got screamin' cause Dolson spewed beer all over her. Then some faggoty-looking guy he didn't know said that Corrigan was gonna be pissed at this cause cause the floor was gonna be ruined and Aaron started yelling at him and Corrigan's homo lover or whoever the fuck he was was yelling back and Ricky thought he needed some goddamn air.
That wasn't a very interesting story really. But moving along, Ricky was almost across the big whatever-the-hell-you-call-it room where people were dancing when some hobag tenth-grader what the fuck man grabbed onto him and wanted to dance or whatever and he wanted to slap the dumb broad but managed to get away and slam his way through the front door and onto the porch, where there were still too many goddamn people fuck he hated coming to the goddamn parties Corrigan threw except that there was always free booze and the rest of the teams were going, but yeah there were still too many goddamn people but at least least he could get some fresh air. Oh, he was fucking clear all right.
In fact, Ricky was so fucking clear that he didn't even notice that he'd barged right in between Brock Mason and some chick he was mackin' on wait, heh heh that's Leila's friend how the hell did Leila convince her to come here, until he'd stumbled over someone's foot and almost fell.
"Whoa! Uh...." hey Brock's an OK guy hope he didn't ruin no moment or anything wouldn't want to stop the guy from getting some "sorry there Brock. The uhhh, team's all downstairs and shit but I wouldn't go down there cause some guy got pissed and a buncha beer got spilled I'm uhhh, just getting some air I'm gonna sit down keep it real man."
Without looking, Ricky backed up a few steps and fell back into the deck chair he was pretty sure was there.
Ugh never say never
Brayden Betancourt
Chris Passilidis
Adi Wheelwright
Fey Zelenka-Morrison
Always Remembered:
v7!
G080 - Nikki Nelson-Kelly - DECEASED Castles Fall in the Sand
v6!
B029: Aiden Slattery - DECEASED Get Off the Floor
G058: Kaitlyn Greene - DECEASED She Knew She'd Found Freedom
v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED From Sea to Sky
B023: Jesse Jennings - DECEASED From Vision to Glory
v4!
G077: Andrea Raymer - ALIVE
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - DECEASED
B006: Ricky Fortino - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED
v3!
G045 - Eris Marquis - DECEASED
B104 - Jonathan Lancer - DECEASED
Brayden Betancourt
Chris Passilidis
Adi Wheelwright
Fey Zelenka-Morrison
Always Remembered:
v7!
G080 - Nikki Nelson-Kelly - DECEASED Castles Fall in the Sand
v6!
B029: Aiden Slattery - DECEASED Get Off the Floor
G058: Kaitlyn Greene - DECEASED She Knew She'd Found Freedom
v5!
G038: Deanna Hull - DECEASED From Sea to Sky
B023: Jesse Jennings - DECEASED From Vision to Glory
v4!
G077: Andrea Raymer - ALIVE
B022: Imraan Al-Hariq - DECEASED
B006: Ricky Fortino - DECEASED
G036: Carly Jean Dooley - DECEASED
v3!
G045 - Eris Marquis - DECEASED
B104 - Jonathan Lancer - DECEASED
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Sunnybunny
- Posts: 384
- Joined: Fri May 17, 2019 7:35 pm
If anything in life in life was better than free booze and good music, Feo didn't want or need it. The music at Corrigan's was teeny-bopper and god-awful, but the selection of drinks more than made up for it. Her favorite was the watermelon jello shots, you could have about twenty of those before you even felt a thing. She'd had about five of those (or six, or seven, who cared) and a Corona. Right now she had a shot of tequlia, half empty. Dancing, drinking, and giving some poor sap blue balls and a wrong phone number was tricky, but it was a skill she'd honed over the years.
This party was fucking awesome though. Some freshmen had tried to sneak in and all of them got thrown out on their asses. Fifteen mintues later, two girls had gotten into a catfight (they were pulling hair, who does that shit?) over some guy. They ended up making out, and all three of them went upstairs to do who knows what. Funny enough, everyone was cheering. Hmm.
How long has it been since I got laid anyway? I can't remember for the life of me.
Feo made her way through the living room. Watching all these people whore around (thanks to the booze, drugs, and the fact that some of them were just plain slutty) was bothering her in more ways than one, hence the need for another drink. Because everyone knew that the best way to keep from jumping into bed with a random guy was to get completey wasted. That made perfect sense. Oh well, it was a party, right? Not like anyone would remember what happened here. Except the sober people. Which, again was noone.
Time for the heavy artilery. Feo grabbed a bottle of Jim Bean and started pouring. Some stick-thin broad tried to grab the bottle from her, and tug-of-war ensued. But instead of rope, it was whiskey and instead of competing for a prize . . . hell, they were competing for a prize. Why couldn't this creakhead looking thing get her own damn bottle?
Feo gave one more good tug, and the bottle flew out their hands, flying in the air. The contents spilled everywhere, landing on several people, and the bottle itself crashed in into pieces on the kitchen floor. Like Feo's buzz.
So much for that. Guess Bacardi and Cola will need to get the job done.
This party was fucking awesome though. Some freshmen had tried to sneak in and all of them got thrown out on their asses. Fifteen mintues later, two girls had gotten into a catfight (they were pulling hair, who does that shit?) over some guy. They ended up making out, and all three of them went upstairs to do who knows what. Funny enough, everyone was cheering. Hmm.
How long has it been since I got laid anyway? I can't remember for the life of me.
Feo made her way through the living room. Watching all these people whore around (thanks to the booze, drugs, and the fact that some of them were just plain slutty) was bothering her in more ways than one, hence the need for another drink. Because everyone knew that the best way to keep from jumping into bed with a random guy was to get completey wasted. That made perfect sense. Oh well, it was a party, right? Not like anyone would remember what happened here. Except the sober people. Which, again was noone.
Time for the heavy artilery. Feo grabbed a bottle of Jim Bean and started pouring. Some stick-thin broad tried to grab the bottle from her, and tug-of-war ensued. But instead of rope, it was whiskey and instead of competing for a prize . . . hell, they were competing for a prize. Why couldn't this creakhead looking thing get her own damn bottle?
Feo gave one more good tug, and the bottle flew out their hands, flying in the air. The contents spilled everywhere, landing on several people, and the bottle itself crashed in into pieces on the kitchen floor. Like Feo's buzz.
So much for that. Guess Bacardi and Cola will need to get the job done.
VII
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
G071 - Sakurako Adina Jackson - i'll be ready every day / for as long as i can say / here I am in the future with my friends
VIII
Dancing Shoes
Bare Knuckles
Wild Horses
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
The party was really filling up. It had finally hit the point where Kimberly wasn't quite sure what all was going on around her. People were having a good time, though, so she didn't really care.
Somewhere, she thought she heard yelling. Someone had probably dropped a drink, or maybe caught someone else cheating. Or maybe someone was being murdered. With the current level of noise, it was impossible to distinguish between them.
Then someone was behind her, talking to her from closer than she'd expected. Kimberly jumped a bit, but held onto her cup; spilling beer all over people was a good way to spark party drama, and she didn't want any of that at the moment. She turned around, and saw that the speaker was Peter. She hadn't really noticed him since the start of the party, but that wasn't saying much. It sounded like Peter had just said that she looked bored, and her drink did too, maybe; she could hear him fairly well, but not perfectly. He had also complimented her gloves, which was nice. So few people noticed the effort she put into finding a good outfit.
"Thanks Peter!" she replied, talking loudly, though not quite yelling, "Yeah, the party's cool and stuff, but there isn't all that much to actually, you know, do."
She took a sip of her beer, wetting her mouth a little.
"How're you doing?"
She glanced around at the rest of the party as she spoke. things were really pretty crazy. She made a mental note to be gone by the time anyone remembered to discuss cleanup. Picking up after this group was not going to be a fun experience for Justin and anyone he managed to guilt trip into helping.
Somewhere, she thought she heard yelling. Someone had probably dropped a drink, or maybe caught someone else cheating. Or maybe someone was being murdered. With the current level of noise, it was impossible to distinguish between them.
Then someone was behind her, talking to her from closer than she'd expected. Kimberly jumped a bit, but held onto her cup; spilling beer all over people was a good way to spark party drama, and she didn't want any of that at the moment. She turned around, and saw that the speaker was Peter. She hadn't really noticed him since the start of the party, but that wasn't saying much. It sounded like Peter had just said that she looked bored, and her drink did too, maybe; she could hear him fairly well, but not perfectly. He had also complimented her gloves, which was nice. So few people noticed the effort she put into finding a good outfit.
"Thanks Peter!" she replied, talking loudly, though not quite yelling, "Yeah, the party's cool and stuff, but there isn't all that much to actually, you know, do."
She took a sip of her beer, wetting her mouth a little.
"How're you doing?"
She glanced around at the rest of the party as she spoke. things were really pretty crazy. She made a mental note to be gone by the time anyone remembered to discuss cleanup. Picking up after this group was not going to be a fun experience for Justin and anyone he managed to guilt trip into helping.
Brock did a double take right then and there. It was Hilary? Well, that put a whole new complexion on things, and one that Brock was sure he entirely liked. It wasn't that he didn't like Hilary, and that was exactly the problem. Their first meeting had been bizarre and awkward in spades. Since then, well, he'd thought about it often. She hadn't poked fun at him, if anything, she'd seemed wary of him doing that same to her.
Which... well, wasn't that unreasonable to think, was it? Brock was pretty much a henchman to a number of the more unpleasant sporting elements of Bayview, although there were plenty of nice guys on the teams too.
It was... just complicated. That was all.
Anyway, Hilary seemed a bit more comfortable this time around, less like she'd been caught doing something criminal (was ice skating really that bad?), but given all the booze that was going around, maybe she was a bit tipsy. Going from being desperate to avoid him telling she was at the rink to offering to go for a drink... definitely a little drunk. Maybe more than a little.
"Well, uh..."
Before Brock could say anything else, Ricky Fortino stumbled past the two of them, neatly treading on Brock's foot as he did so. He winced a little, but didn't say anything. Ricky and him hung round the same sorts of crowds, and hell, they were teammates. No sense making something of nothing, especially since it was obvious Ricky had already had quite a lot.
"Right. Thanks. I'll steer clear then."
Brock looked back to Hilary again, frowning.
"You sure you're good to drink? You look a little pale."
Which... well, wasn't that unreasonable to think, was it? Brock was pretty much a henchman to a number of the more unpleasant sporting elements of Bayview, although there were plenty of nice guys on the teams too.
It was... just complicated. That was all.
Anyway, Hilary seemed a bit more comfortable this time around, less like she'd been caught doing something criminal (was ice skating really that bad?), but given all the booze that was going around, maybe she was a bit tipsy. Going from being desperate to avoid him telling she was at the rink to offering to go for a drink... definitely a little drunk. Maybe more than a little.
"Well, uh..."
Before Brock could say anything else, Ricky Fortino stumbled past the two of them, neatly treading on Brock's foot as he did so. He winced a little, but didn't say anything. Ricky and him hung round the same sorts of crowds, and hell, they were teammates. No sense making something of nothing, especially since it was obvious Ricky had already had quite a lot.
"Right. Thanks. I'll steer clear then."
Brock looked back to Hilary again, frowning.
"You sure you're good to drink? You look a little pale."