Connor grimaced as Stepney not only leaned in to the dare, but did so with gusto. Good for you, kid. He was going to be feeling absolutely dreadful in a moment, and so the least that he could do was give him something half-decent to use to steel him against the abomination that was the chili vodka. Rummaging through the cooler, Connor picked out a Miller Genuine Draft and tossed it to Stepney.
"Fortunately for you, Misty's already wearing the worst thing I had kickin' around in here."
Smiling at Stepney while making sure to keep Zen totally out of his eye-line, he leaned back and took a sip out of his own drink as he watched.
"Now I might be everyone's daddy right now, but don't y'all come runnin' to me when that burns goin' down."
Dare You Enter My Magical Realm?
Swiftball, open to all brave enough to play truth or dare with Misty
Good grief, how deep was that cooler?
Jeff was impressed, despite himself, at the sheer variety of beverages Connor had at his disposal. The kid had come prepared for boozing. Suppose it was necessary, considering they’d hit yet another beer-related dare. But a time would come, maybe sooner than later, where they’d be all out of beers to chuck around. Then maybe they’d have to finally get creative.
Well whatever. Apparently they’d found a real beauty of a drink to ram down this kid’s gullet. At least this would be good for a laugh.
“Sooner you do it, easier it’ll be,” he said, and that was the honest truth. The imagination was great for blowing stuff out of proportion. Reality was often a lot lamer than whatever the mind could cook up. It was like that for his drink and it would be the same for Stepney. He’d see.
Jeff was impressed, despite himself, at the sheer variety of beverages Connor had at his disposal. The kid had come prepared for boozing. Suppose it was necessary, considering they’d hit yet another beer-related dare. But a time would come, maybe sooner than later, where they’d be all out of beers to chuck around. Then maybe they’d have to finally get creative.
Well whatever. Apparently they’d found a real beauty of a drink to ram down this kid’s gullet. At least this would be good for a laugh.
“Sooner you do it, easier it’ll be,” he said, and that was the honest truth. The imagination was great for blowing stuff out of proportion. Reality was often a lot lamer than whatever the mind could cook up. It was like that for his drink and it would be the same for Stepney. He’d see.
Stepney caught the beer with one hand. Just about. Man, that really would’ve been adding insult to injury, huh, if he’d gotten smacked in the face with a cold beer on top of the dare. He glanced at the name on the bottle. ‘Miller Genuine Draft’, apparently. It sounded fancy, sure, but odds were it tasted just like every other bottle and can of pisswater Stepney had tried in his lifetime.
He glanced into his cup, swirled the remaining liquid around in there, and drained it in one fluid motion. If he was gonna be doing this, which he was, obviously, he didn’t wanna add a third exciting flavour to this horrible cocktail.
“You guys ever seen that photo of, like, the big jug of aaaall the different kids of Monster mixed together?” Stepney asked, as he began pouring the beer into his cup. “Someone, I think prob’ly Andy, dared me to try it myself, and I always thought that was gonna be the worst thing I’d ever drink. But…”
Stepney picked up the bottle of vodka, trying to judge just how much he should put in here. One shot? Two shots? Three, maybe? No point doing this dare if all he could taste was beer, after all.
A second passed, and he threw caution to the wind and just started pouring. Go big, et cetera, et cetera.
“I think we may have a new contender for the crown, here.”
Alrighty. The elixir had been prepared. This… was not gonna be fun. He certainly deserved to be paid for this sacrifice. Would he though? Almost certainly not. Ungrateful, that was what it was.
“Hoo boy…”
He raised the cup in a toast to his fellow truth or darers.
“Welp, bottoms up!”
He raised the cup to his lips and started to drink. For a second, a second and a half maybe, everything was fine. Then the vodka and the beer hit his throat at the same time, and he was milliseconds away from choking and spitting it all back up. Somehow, he kept his composure, chugging the vile drink, trying not to focus on the burning sensation in his throat, eyes screwed tightly shut as he willed himself to keep drinking.
An eternity passed. Seas rose and fell. Civilisations crumbled. Kings and queens and emperors rose to power and lost it again. Finally, finally, the last drop of liquid had left the cup into Stepney’s mouth. He lowered it, wiping his mouth with his free hand. He took in a deep, deep breath through his nose, before finally speaking again.
“Jesus fucking Christ, that tasted worse than Satan’s own asshole.”
Stepney stuck his tongue out in disgust, shaking his head, still able to taste the vodka and beer mix in his mouth. He took another deep breath, but when he was done this time, he was grinning.
“But… I’d say that’s a dare done to perfection. Autographs later, please.”
He glanced into his cup, swirled the remaining liquid around in there, and drained it in one fluid motion. If he was gonna be doing this, which he was, obviously, he didn’t wanna add a third exciting flavour to this horrible cocktail.
“You guys ever seen that photo of, like, the big jug of aaaall the different kids of Monster mixed together?” Stepney asked, as he began pouring the beer into his cup. “Someone, I think prob’ly Andy, dared me to try it myself, and I always thought that was gonna be the worst thing I’d ever drink. But…”
Stepney picked up the bottle of vodka, trying to judge just how much he should put in here. One shot? Two shots? Three, maybe? No point doing this dare if all he could taste was beer, after all.
A second passed, and he threw caution to the wind and just started pouring. Go big, et cetera, et cetera.
“I think we may have a new contender for the crown, here.”
Alrighty. The elixir had been prepared. This… was not gonna be fun. He certainly deserved to be paid for this sacrifice. Would he though? Almost certainly not. Ungrateful, that was what it was.
“Hoo boy…”
He raised the cup in a toast to his fellow truth or darers.
“Welp, bottoms up!”
He raised the cup to his lips and started to drink. For a second, a second and a half maybe, everything was fine. Then the vodka and the beer hit his throat at the same time, and he was milliseconds away from choking and spitting it all back up. Somehow, he kept his composure, chugging the vile drink, trying not to focus on the burning sensation in his throat, eyes screwed tightly shut as he willed himself to keep drinking.
An eternity passed. Seas rose and fell. Civilisations crumbled. Kings and queens and emperors rose to power and lost it again. Finally, finally, the last drop of liquid had left the cup into Stepney’s mouth. He lowered it, wiping his mouth with his free hand. He took in a deep, deep breath through his nose, before finally speaking again.
“Jesus fucking Christ, that tasted worse than Satan’s own asshole.”
Stepney stuck his tongue out in disgust, shaking his head, still able to taste the vodka and beer mix in his mouth. He took another deep breath, but when he was done this time, he was grinning.
“But… I’d say that’s a dare done to perfection. Autographs later, please.”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
There was a pause.
Zen was glad there was a pause, because some moments just really really REALLY required that dramatic like three seconds of silence. Like probably more seconds of silence would have been more dramatic but they couldn't risk someone else breaking it because that would ruin their Whole Thing!!!
They clapped. Once! And then again. Slowly. And then faster. The slow clap classic! They would have whistled, too, except they didn't know how to whistle, which was a character flaw they sadly didn't know how to fix. They'd tried a bunch but mostly they just when FWWWWWWSH and spat a little bit which was pretty gross.
"You did it!" Zen was smiling ear to ear cause wow they weren't sure the applause was getting across how actually totally impressed they were. If they could make an avalanche of balloons and confetti appear over Stepney's head right now they would. That would be a pretty cool power but also would require a Lot of cleanup and Zen guessed they wouldn't really have to do the cleaning cause this wasn't their house but someone would have to and Zen wouldn't want to make their lives harder and also they didn't actually have that power so they were just gonna have to stick to the applause thing!
"That was so cool," Zen said, eyes glittering with admiration. "You could do, like, anything."
Then their little circle of fun was broken for a moment.
>> Ivy Langley continued from Something Wicked This Way Comes
Was her toe broken? Ivy thought that was reasonably unlikely; Faith had stomped pretty hard, yes, but she'd only been wearing sneakers and probably hadn't intended to do any serious damage to anything but her pride. Most of the pain had actually faded pretty quickly, but her big toe in particular hurt badly enough that putting any weight on her foot was excruciating. She couldn't say for sure what the problem was, except that there was definitely blood, which didn't seem like a good sign.
She probably should have gotten to a bathroom and checked out the damage, but. But.
Ivy wasn't afraid of blood, she didn't faint at the sight of it or anything, and she'd seen some pretty gnarly cheerleading injuries from the squad over the years without blinking. But it felt entirely different when the injury in question was her own. She didn't want to look at it. Logistically she needed to, if it was bleeding it probably needed disinfecting and there was probably some Neosporin somewhere or like she could just steal some vodka to pour on it, maybe, but she just... couldn't. At least, not alone.
Hence the past ten minutes she'd spent limping around the building.
She was looking for Bret. She was! Genuinely. She knew he was supposed to be here, though who on earth wasn't at this point. But either he wasn't here yet or he'd managed to elude her on her admittedly noncomprehensive search. She'd even made a detour to the backyard, partially to look but mostly because that's where she'd hidden her bottle of wine, stuffed between a couple of shrubs. She'd refilled her cup and kept moving.
It was now, wandering aimlessly through the first floor, that she ran into a Carter. Maybe not the one she had in mind. Maybe she wasn't particularly disappointed, though.
There was a group gathered around, probably doing something, she didn't care, though it was an interesting melange of people, she supposed. What was technically the most interesting sight was not particularly appealing to her (nor was it out of character, if Myles' stories about Zen had anything to say about it), and while she knew most of the circle, this was hardly a social call in the traditional sense. She'd keep the "Connor hanging out with a shirtless girl" tidbit in mind, though. Potentially useful, that.
"Wyatt?" Ivy's voice was quieter than she'd expected. Hoarse. She cleared her throat, her voice returning to its proper clarity, as she approached him, trying to catch his attention as he faced away from her.
"Wyatt, hey, I need you for... something."
Oh, that sounded suspect, didn't it. Oh well. She had collateral on Connor, and no one else had the clout to matter.
Zen was glad there was a pause, because some moments just really really REALLY required that dramatic like three seconds of silence. Like probably more seconds of silence would have been more dramatic but they couldn't risk someone else breaking it because that would ruin their Whole Thing!!!
They clapped. Once! And then again. Slowly. And then faster. The slow clap classic! They would have whistled, too, except they didn't know how to whistle, which was a character flaw they sadly didn't know how to fix. They'd tried a bunch but mostly they just when FWWWWWWSH and spat a little bit which was pretty gross.
"You did it!" Zen was smiling ear to ear cause wow they weren't sure the applause was getting across how actually totally impressed they were. If they could make an avalanche of balloons and confetti appear over Stepney's head right now they would. That would be a pretty cool power but also would require a Lot of cleanup and Zen guessed they wouldn't really have to do the cleaning cause this wasn't their house but someone would have to and Zen wouldn't want to make their lives harder and also they didn't actually have that power so they were just gonna have to stick to the applause thing!
"That was so cool," Zen said, eyes glittering with admiration. "You could do, like, anything."
Then their little circle of fun was broken for a moment.
>> Ivy Langley continued from Something Wicked This Way Comes
Was her toe broken? Ivy thought that was reasonably unlikely; Faith had stomped pretty hard, yes, but she'd only been wearing sneakers and probably hadn't intended to do any serious damage to anything but her pride. Most of the pain had actually faded pretty quickly, but her big toe in particular hurt badly enough that putting any weight on her foot was excruciating. She couldn't say for sure what the problem was, except that there was definitely blood, which didn't seem like a good sign.
She probably should have gotten to a bathroom and checked out the damage, but. But.
Ivy wasn't afraid of blood, she didn't faint at the sight of it or anything, and she'd seen some pretty gnarly cheerleading injuries from the squad over the years without blinking. But it felt entirely different when the injury in question was her own. She didn't want to look at it. Logistically she needed to, if it was bleeding it probably needed disinfecting and there was probably some Neosporin somewhere or like she could just steal some vodka to pour on it, maybe, but she just... couldn't. At least, not alone.
Hence the past ten minutes she'd spent limping around the building.
She was looking for Bret. She was! Genuinely. She knew he was supposed to be here, though who on earth wasn't at this point. But either he wasn't here yet or he'd managed to elude her on her admittedly noncomprehensive search. She'd even made a detour to the backyard, partially to look but mostly because that's where she'd hidden her bottle of wine, stuffed between a couple of shrubs. She'd refilled her cup and kept moving.
It was now, wandering aimlessly through the first floor, that she ran into a Carter. Maybe not the one she had in mind. Maybe she wasn't particularly disappointed, though.
There was a group gathered around, probably doing something, she didn't care, though it was an interesting melange of people, she supposed. What was technically the most interesting sight was not particularly appealing to her (nor was it out of character, if Myles' stories about Zen had anything to say about it), and while she knew most of the circle, this was hardly a social call in the traditional sense. She'd keep the "Connor hanging out with a shirtless girl" tidbit in mind, though. Potentially useful, that.
"Wyatt?" Ivy's voice was quieter than she'd expected. Hoarse. She cleared her throat, her voice returning to its proper clarity, as she approached him, trying to catch his attention as he faced away from her.
"Wyatt, hey, I need you for... something."
Oh, that sounded suspect, didn't it. Oh well. She had collateral on Connor, and no one else had the clout to matter.
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
MK Kilmarnock
- Posts: 1931
- Joined: Fri Aug 10, 2018 5:28 am
- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
"Bahahaha! You WOULD know what asshole tastes like, wouldn't you?"
With the completion of another dare, their little pow-wow of gross embarrassing fun released all the tension stored up like a spring from watching Stepney, and that released tension came in the form of all sorts of cheering and hollering and whatever. Wyatt grinned, but he didn't clap or whistle. The feat wasn't all that impressive, just a little gross. More than anything, he was just excited to see who Stepney was gonna ask so they could keep this show on the road. Particularly antsy at the prospects of things getting back to him so he could throw a dare back in Misty's face, Wyatt took a bit longer than he should have to acknowledge the new arrival who meekly called out his name.
It took Ivy standing right beside him and calling his name multiple times to get him to look down at her face. Wyatt's smile quickly faded when he saw Ivy standing there with pink-ish eyes, a quiver in her voice...
Aw hell. Who was he going to have to beat up now?
That was the first thought running into his head, and it took no time to cross his mind before protective instincts started welling up. He'd just gotten rid of the last mark, damn it, and he was in that magical valley of 'just enough booze but not too much booze' where he might make the brash decision to take on several guys at once that needed their heads knocked, and he had the matching confidence in his body's ability to back that up. But he'd much rather have fun. So could it have been something else?
Not Bret. That was the second thing that crossed his mind, and some of the abject horror at that imagined situation seeped into Wyatt's expression as he hunched over a bit.
"Ives, what's up?" he asked. Man, the way she had put that... best case scenario, she was uncontrollably horny and needed dicking, but why come to him? Damn it, his brother was here! Yeah no, that wasn't it, she was crying after all. It looked like she was crying. Something pissed her off or upset her and now she was coming to him. "I'll be back guys, just go around me or whatever, I'll take my turn when I come back."
With the completion of another dare, their little pow-wow of gross embarrassing fun released all the tension stored up like a spring from watching Stepney, and that released tension came in the form of all sorts of cheering and hollering and whatever. Wyatt grinned, but he didn't clap or whistle. The feat wasn't all that impressive, just a little gross. More than anything, he was just excited to see who Stepney was gonna ask so they could keep this show on the road. Particularly antsy at the prospects of things getting back to him so he could throw a dare back in Misty's face, Wyatt took a bit longer than he should have to acknowledge the new arrival who meekly called out his name.
It took Ivy standing right beside him and calling his name multiple times to get him to look down at her face. Wyatt's smile quickly faded when he saw Ivy standing there with pink-ish eyes, a quiver in her voice...
Aw hell. Who was he going to have to beat up now?
That was the first thought running into his head, and it took no time to cross his mind before protective instincts started welling up. He'd just gotten rid of the last mark, damn it, and he was in that magical valley of 'just enough booze but not too much booze' where he might make the brash decision to take on several guys at once that needed their heads knocked, and he had the matching confidence in his body's ability to back that up. But he'd much rather have fun. So could it have been something else?
Not Bret. That was the second thing that crossed his mind, and some of the abject horror at that imagined situation seeped into Wyatt's expression as he hunched over a bit.
"Ives, what's up?" he asked. Man, the way she had put that... best case scenario, she was uncontrollably horny and needed dicking, but why come to him? Damn it, his brother was here! Yeah no, that wasn't it, she was crying after all. It looked like she was crying. Something pissed her off or upset her and now she was coming to him. "I'll be back guys, just go around me or whatever, I'll take my turn when I come back."
"I won't keep you long."
Or maybe she would, but she didn't know yet. Depended on how bad this was, among other factors. She wasn't going to feel particularly guilty about dragging Wyatt away from a good time, not when she genuinely needed him, but he might not feel the same way. But he didn't seem reluctant to help, either. The pain in his eyes when he saw her distress gladdened her more than it probably should.
She wanted to take his hand, but she didn't. Plausible deniability only went so far. Instead she only nodded and turned away, trusting him to follow. Probably a bathroom. A relatively secluded one, ideally. Reasonable circumstance or not, it would be best not to be seen.
It was a reasonable circumstance. She needed help. The glass of wine still in her hand was irrelevant. The way she gulped down its remaining contents was also irrelevant.
Everything was fine.
>> Ivy Langley continued in don't go wasting your emotion
Or maybe she would, but she didn't know yet. Depended on how bad this was, among other factors. She wasn't going to feel particularly guilty about dragging Wyatt away from a good time, not when she genuinely needed him, but he might not feel the same way. But he didn't seem reluctant to help, either. The pain in his eyes when he saw her distress gladdened her more than it probably should.
She wanted to take his hand, but she didn't. Plausible deniability only went so far. Instead she only nodded and turned away, trusting him to follow. Probably a bathroom. A relatively secluded one, ideally. Reasonable circumstance or not, it would be best not to be seen.
It was a reasonable circumstance. She needed help. The glass of wine still in her hand was irrelevant. The way she gulped down its remaining contents was also irrelevant.
Everything was fine.
>> Ivy Langley continued in don't go wasting your emotion
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
Misty didn't clap along with Zen, but she did give an appreciative nod when Stepney finished off his unholy brew. Nobody was getting off totally unscathed tonight, which was exactly as it should be. Well, except Abel, she supposed.
Speaking of, what was taking him so long? He'd probably gotten sidetracked somewhere and totally forgotten his errand, which would've left Misty in the lurch had she not figured out an alternative. He'd been on her good side, but circumstances changed quickly, and right now with the way she was feeling if and when he got back she'd have to cook something special up for him, just so he wouldn't make the mistake of forgetting her again. But in the meantime, there was more entertainment to be had.
Everyone celebrating Stepney's success was, come to think of it, just a little bit of a mixed bag after all. Like, yeah, consuming vast quantities of disgusting beverage was impressive. Misty didn't begrudge him that. It's just, she took a beer shower and nobody gave her a round of applause. Maybe it was different circumstances and nothing more, but still. Then again, Zen had probably drawn the shortest end of the stick, still sitting around as she was with her tits out, and nobody had throw a party there either. Well, not overtly, but there were all sorts of reasons for that.
Whatever. If revenge was warranted, Misty would have it. But then there was another interruption, in the form of Ivy Langley. Ivy was tiny even by comparison to Misty, and compensated with a real case of Napoleon complex. She was constantly caught up in playing backstabbing social games with the other "popular" kids who fooled themselves into thinking such things mattered, and was thus pretty successfully contained from bothering the rest of the school who had actual interesting things to do with their time and occasionally pretended to be impressed to humor her. Misty was pretty content to ignore her, with the exception of snickering at her fashion now and then, because she wore costumes around but framed them as fashion. There was nothing wrong with costumes—Misty loved them a lot and wore them frequently herself—but the key to pulling them off was being aware of what you were doing.
Right now, Ivy was stealing away one of their players, which meant Misty had to pay her marginally more attention than normal. She actually sort of wished Ivy would hang around and join in the game, if for no other reason than imaging how hilarious it would be to have her stripped by dare in the middle of the party, though that was pretty unlikely given that Wyatt had already gotten his kicks and she was dating his brother or something besides.
"Don't keep him too long," Misty called after them. "Daddy Connie might get lonely."
Then she turned her focus back to those who weren't running off, taking a moment to pat at her head and the back of her neck with the hand towel again. She was going to sit in the shower for a really long time when she got home.
"Guess that makes it Stepney's turn to pick a victim," she added.
Speaking of, what was taking him so long? He'd probably gotten sidetracked somewhere and totally forgotten his errand, which would've left Misty in the lurch had she not figured out an alternative. He'd been on her good side, but circumstances changed quickly, and right now with the way she was feeling if and when he got back she'd have to cook something special up for him, just so he wouldn't make the mistake of forgetting her again. But in the meantime, there was more entertainment to be had.
Everyone celebrating Stepney's success was, come to think of it, just a little bit of a mixed bag after all. Like, yeah, consuming vast quantities of disgusting beverage was impressive. Misty didn't begrudge him that. It's just, she took a beer shower and nobody gave her a round of applause. Maybe it was different circumstances and nothing more, but still. Then again, Zen had probably drawn the shortest end of the stick, still sitting around as she was with her tits out, and nobody had throw a party there either. Well, not overtly, but there were all sorts of reasons for that.
Whatever. If revenge was warranted, Misty would have it. But then there was another interruption, in the form of Ivy Langley. Ivy was tiny even by comparison to Misty, and compensated with a real case of Napoleon complex. She was constantly caught up in playing backstabbing social games with the other "popular" kids who fooled themselves into thinking such things mattered, and was thus pretty successfully contained from bothering the rest of the school who had actual interesting things to do with their time and occasionally pretended to be impressed to humor her. Misty was pretty content to ignore her, with the exception of snickering at her fashion now and then, because she wore costumes around but framed them as fashion. There was nothing wrong with costumes—Misty loved them a lot and wore them frequently herself—but the key to pulling them off was being aware of what you were doing.
Right now, Ivy was stealing away one of their players, which meant Misty had to pay her marginally more attention than normal. She actually sort of wished Ivy would hang around and join in the game, if for no other reason than imaging how hilarious it would be to have her stripped by dare in the middle of the party, though that was pretty unlikely given that Wyatt had already gotten his kicks and she was dating his brother or something besides.
"Don't keep him too long," Misty called after them. "Daddy Connie might get lonely."
Then she turned her focus back to those who weren't running off, taking a moment to pat at her head and the back of her neck with the hand towel again. She was going to sit in the shower for a really long time when she got home.
"Guess that makes it Stepney's turn to pick a victim," she added.
Awww. There went the prime target of his next dare. Or truth, he supposed, but Wyatt didn’t seem like the sorta coward to go for that when dares were on the table. He appreciated that. There wasn’t a whole lot to appreciate about Wyatt, but being such a simple minded and predictable individual was definitely one of them.
Unfortunately, Wyatt was suddenly whisked away by an emergency. An Ivy emergency, to be precise. If Stepney was feeling mean (which he kinda was, must be the sudden influx of far, far too much alcohol into his system), then he would say that everything about Ivy was an emergency, really. Not out loud, though. That would send Wyatt’s fist on a one-way journey into Stepney’s face.
Instead, as Wyatt and Ivy wandered off to do… whatever, he didn’t really care, he took several deep, theatrical bows, in response to the excited applause coming from, well, just Zen, to be entirely honest. Still, he appreciated it. At least one person understood talent when they saw it.
“Suppose it is,” Stepney said, stroking his goatee as he looked around the circle. “Now, who’s it gonna be?”
He had three options left, and one of them was, hopefully, gonna be the grand finale of this whole thing, so that was off the table for the moment. It was honestly a coinflip between either of the other two at this point. Just, y’know, a mental coinflip. What with the pocket full of double-sided pennies and such.
“Jeff! My man!” Stepney said, fixing the boy with a grin. “You know the drill. You a truth guy or a dare guy?”
Unfortunately, Wyatt was suddenly whisked away by an emergency. An Ivy emergency, to be precise. If Stepney was feeling mean (which he kinda was, must be the sudden influx of far, far too much alcohol into his system), then he would say that everything about Ivy was an emergency, really. Not out loud, though. That would send Wyatt’s fist on a one-way journey into Stepney’s face.
Instead, as Wyatt and Ivy wandered off to do… whatever, he didn’t really care, he took several deep, theatrical bows, in response to the excited applause coming from, well, just Zen, to be entirely honest. Still, he appreciated it. At least one person understood talent when they saw it.
“Suppose it is,” Stepney said, stroking his goatee as he looked around the circle. “Now, who’s it gonna be?”
He had three options left, and one of them was, hopefully, gonna be the grand finale of this whole thing, so that was off the table for the moment. It was honestly a coinflip between either of the other two at this point. Just, y’know, a mental coinflip. What with the pocket full of double-sided pennies and such.
“Jeff! My man!” Stepney said, fixing the boy with a grin. “You know the drill. You a truth guy or a dare guy?”
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
When Stepney overcame his Dare, Jeff tilted his head at the applause. Drinking two beers at once was difficult, certainly, but weren’t they laying it on a little thickly? Maybe it was the showmanship. He’d seen a few magic tricks where the setup was the entire point, not so much the payoff, and this kid had hammed it up to the max.
Then one of the cheerleaders had come in. He had no idea which one. He couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. Seems like she had a problem and only Wyatt could solve it, so that was two players gone. Towel Boy seemed like he’d never return.
Honestly, it was just fine with him if Wyatt left. That “Daddy Connie” business was getting old.
But that left the business of who was going next, and wouldn’t you know, it was back to him. He nodded and considered his options. On the one hand, Stepney could try something embarrassing, but in that case, Truth wouldn’t be much better. Besides, if he didn’t do Dare, he’d have everyone calling him a wimp, and he didn’t have time for that.
Yeah, no, this was a no-brainer.
“Dare, of course,” he said, rising to his feet. “You even need to ask?”
Bring it on, kid, he thought. He was ready for the tutu.
Then one of the cheerleaders had come in. He had no idea which one. He couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. Seems like she had a problem and only Wyatt could solve it, so that was two players gone. Towel Boy seemed like he’d never return.
Honestly, it was just fine with him if Wyatt left. That “Daddy Connie” business was getting old.
But that left the business of who was going next, and wouldn’t you know, it was back to him. He nodded and considered his options. On the one hand, Stepney could try something embarrassing, but in that case, Truth wouldn’t be much better. Besides, if he didn’t do Dare, he’d have everyone calling him a wimp, and he didn’t have time for that.
Yeah, no, this was a no-brainer.
“Dare, of course,” he said, rising to his feet. “You even need to ask?”
Bring it on, kid, he thought. He was ready for the tutu.
“Ah, a fellow man of taste, I see.”
Stepney’s grin grew wider, partially due to the whole cup of beer and vodka inside of him, partially due to the thrill of the hunt, as he stared Jeff down, trying to think of what best to unleash on the guy. He had to admit, the sudden onset of alcohol was making his dare senses, normally sharp as two knives taped back to back, ever so slightly dulled. And silly.
He wasn’t too fussed. He’d still conjure something up, something that Jeff, hopefully, wouldn’t wanna repeat any time soon.
Gross-out stuff was off the table, in his book. He’d just done that, and doing two of the same dare in a row made things stale. Anything sexual was out, too, just cause Stepney had no real interest in anything down that road; once again, without being able to recognise their face, especially due to the fresh coat of hair they were wearing, Zen’s breasts might as well have been floating in midair right now. Which didn’t really do it for him.
So that just left making Jeff do something every so slightly to the left of ‘Cool’, and as soon as he thought that, a flash of inspiration hit Stepney.
“Alrighty, Jeffy, I dare you…” Stepney paused as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket with a flourish, swiping through his apps with his thumb, tapping on a light green circular one. “… to find the most crowded room here, and sing this.”
Another tap, and the first notes of What Makes You Beautiful started to play.
“Make sure everyone hears that gorgeous voice.”
Everyone liked a bit of karaoke at parties, right?
Stepney’s grin grew wider, partially due to the whole cup of beer and vodka inside of him, partially due to the thrill of the hunt, as he stared Jeff down, trying to think of what best to unleash on the guy. He had to admit, the sudden onset of alcohol was making his dare senses, normally sharp as two knives taped back to back, ever so slightly dulled. And silly.
He wasn’t too fussed. He’d still conjure something up, something that Jeff, hopefully, wouldn’t wanna repeat any time soon.
Gross-out stuff was off the table, in his book. He’d just done that, and doing two of the same dare in a row made things stale. Anything sexual was out, too, just cause Stepney had no real interest in anything down that road; once again, without being able to recognise their face, especially due to the fresh coat of hair they were wearing, Zen’s breasts might as well have been floating in midair right now. Which didn’t really do it for him.
So that just left making Jeff do something every so slightly to the left of ‘Cool’, and as soon as he thought that, a flash of inspiration hit Stepney.
“Alrighty, Jeffy, I dare you…” Stepney paused as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket with a flourish, swiping through his apps with his thumb, tapping on a light green circular one. “… to find the most crowded room here, and sing this.”
Another tap, and the first notes of What Makes You Beautiful started to play.
“Make sure everyone hears that gorgeous voice.”
Everyone liked a bit of karaoke at parties, right?
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
The instant Stepney said the word "sing", Jeff instinctively winced. He could count the number of times that he'd sung along to something on his fingers; not because he was tone-deaf or anything, just because it really wasn't his thing. Whatever, though, he wasn't being graded on it or anything. He just had to find a crowded room and sing something...whatever this was.
Something about this tune was familiar. He remembered hearing it a lot when he was a kid. Some boy band or other...
Ah right, those guys with the punchable faces: One friggin' Direction. Pulling out his own phone, he got the list of names for their songs and brought up the lyrics for this song in particular. He was going to need this because as braindead as the tune was, these kids were slurring some words so badly he couldn't tell what they were saying.
"Uh huh, so...just so we're clear, this bit with all the 'na, na na na'...I need to do that too, right?"
Ah, what was he saying? Of course he had to do it. No way they'd let him skip out on any of the fun.
"Well, whatever, I'm off to the dance floor. That's where everyone is, I figure."
Time to break a leg. Maybe that'd get him out of doing this.
(Jeff Greene continued in Just Dance. He will be back shortly)
Something about this tune was familiar. He remembered hearing it a lot when he was a kid. Some boy band or other...
Ah right, those guys with the punchable faces: One friggin' Direction. Pulling out his own phone, he got the list of names for their songs and brought up the lyrics for this song in particular. He was going to need this because as braindead as the tune was, these kids were slurring some words so badly he couldn't tell what they were saying.
"Uh huh, so...just so we're clear, this bit with all the 'na, na na na'...I need to do that too, right?"
Ah, what was he saying? Of course he had to do it. No way they'd let him skip out on any of the fun.
"Well, whatever, I'm off to the dance floor. That's where everyone is, I figure."
Time to break a leg. Maybe that'd get him out of doing this.
(Jeff Greene continued in Just Dance. He will be back shortly)
Time for another dare! Zen took a moment while the others were talking to pull their shirt back up on their shoulders. They were perfectly happy to keep it off for the rest of the night but it was kinda cold and more importantly Football Guy #1 (Connor? right? that was his name right??) kept avoiding looking at them and like normally they didn't care all that much about making people uncomfortable with this sorta thing cause as far as they were concerned their hangups were the weird bit but he seemed like a nice guy and they should be nice to him! Besides, Wyatt had gone off somewhere with the pink-haired girl whose name Zen always forgot, which made his dare forfeit, kinda? That wasn't an official rule but it was one that made sense which made it now a thing.
Jeff picked dare! They were so sure he wouldn't, cause he seemed so down on the first dare, but he sounded like he wanted to Prove Himself and that was pretty cool!! Zen hadn't really wanted to pick him themself since he seemed like such a Grumpy Gus but he seemed to be taking it pretty well. And it was a real good dare, too! Nice and silly. Looked like he was taking the "find the most crowded room" bit seriously, too, which meant they were going on a FIELD TRIP! Again! This was a very mobile game, huh?
They clapped their hands in delight as they jumped to their feet. Their shirt was still open, but it was covering everything important.
"Let's go on an adventure!"
>> Zen Alicea Feliciano taking a quick detour elsewhere!
Jeff picked dare! They were so sure he wouldn't, cause he seemed so down on the first dare, but he sounded like he wanted to Prove Himself and that was pretty cool!! Zen hadn't really wanted to pick him themself since he seemed like such a Grumpy Gus but he seemed to be taking it pretty well. And it was a real good dare, too! Nice and silly. Looked like he was taking the "find the most crowded room" bit seriously, too, which meant they were going on a FIELD TRIP! Again! This was a very mobile game, huh?
They clapped their hands in delight as they jumped to their feet. Their shirt was still open, but it was covering everything important.
"Let's go on an adventure!"
>> Zen Alicea Feliciano taking a quick detour elsewhere!
"Well, Fenris, the King of Gossip. We meet again."
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 2566
- Joined: Thu Aug 09, 2018 1:37 am
"Have fun," Misty called. "I'll stay here and watch our spot. Give 'em hell."
Jeff was going to go sing... something poppy and presumably bad. That was kind of another softball, in Misty's opinion, because the most crowded room would also be by definition the one where everyone was most involved in other things and least likely to care about or even notice someone belting out a tune, and furthermore there was nothing in the dare preventing Jeff from announcing it as such and/or doing a totally ironic rendition, which would remove even what little element of embarrassment the premise otherwise offered. Sure, it seemed that the football player wouldn't be thrilled to take part in the affair, but he hadn't been thrilled to chug a beer, either. Besides, Connor would probably appreciate the chance to go enjoy some schadenfreude this time, and Misty still had a lock of hair to stow away.
She set about doing just that as Jeff and whoever was going with him exited the room. She did have a bag with her, stashed behind the chair, and she leaned awkwardly over the armrest pawing for it, finally managing to hook one handle with a finger and tug it towards her. She rooted around inside—though it wasn't that full, just a book and some lipstick and her phone and some change and other assorted knickknacks—and secreted the lock of hair inside a small zippered pocket.
She probably looked pretty silly to anyone watching, up on her knees bent almost double over the armrest, but she didn't care; she had enough control of her posture and was aware enough of her clothing not to be flashing anyone anything she didn't want them seeing, and people all over were by now surely making asses of themselves in actual, material ways.
As Misty turned back around and sank back into her seat, leaving her bag where it lay, now beside the chair rather than behind it, she scooped up her glass of wine and took another little sip. Her eyes passed once more over the card game in the corner, and this time her brow wrinkled a little. She was pretty sure she knew that girl, come to think of it.
Jeff was going to go sing... something poppy and presumably bad. That was kind of another softball, in Misty's opinion, because the most crowded room would also be by definition the one where everyone was most involved in other things and least likely to care about or even notice someone belting out a tune, and furthermore there was nothing in the dare preventing Jeff from announcing it as such and/or doing a totally ironic rendition, which would remove even what little element of embarrassment the premise otherwise offered. Sure, it seemed that the football player wouldn't be thrilled to take part in the affair, but he hadn't been thrilled to chug a beer, either. Besides, Connor would probably appreciate the chance to go enjoy some schadenfreude this time, and Misty still had a lock of hair to stow away.
She set about doing just that as Jeff and whoever was going with him exited the room. She did have a bag with her, stashed behind the chair, and she leaned awkwardly over the armrest pawing for it, finally managing to hook one handle with a finger and tug it towards her. She rooted around inside—though it wasn't that full, just a book and some lipstick and her phone and some change and other assorted knickknacks—and secreted the lock of hair inside a small zippered pocket.
She probably looked pretty silly to anyone watching, up on her knees bent almost double over the armrest, but she didn't care; she had enough control of her posture and was aware enough of her clothing not to be flashing anyone anything she didn't want them seeing, and people all over were by now surely making asses of themselves in actual, material ways.
As Misty turned back around and sank back into her seat, leaving her bag where it lay, now beside the chair rather than behind it, she scooped up her glass of wine and took another little sip. Her eyes passed once more over the card game in the corner, and this time her brow wrinkled a little. She was pretty sure she knew that girl, come to think of it.
Connor couldn't help but chuckle as Jeff (more zealously this time) took on the challenge with resigned gusto, and wandered off to find a crowded room to do his crooning in. It was good, actually. Jeff Greene was easily the most serious, uptight member of the football team, and that he was actually unwinding a little bit at the biggest party of the year was a testament to the fact that he probably wasn't all that bad of a guy. He still seemed to have some sort of grievance with Connor himself, but whatever it was, he had no idea. He'd have to ask Bret or Ace about that later. Maybe one of them would know.
The majority of the truth or dare circle piled out after Jeff, though Misty stayed behind, presumably to watch their spot, though she almost immediately wandered over to her bag and started fiddling around with it. Gauging his options, Connor finished off the remainder of his beer. Glancing at his watch, his brow furrowed a bit. It had been quite some time that he'd been sitting here, and he'd heard nary a peep from Madison. Not a text, not a frustrated yell; nothing at all.
Rising to his feet, Connor looked at Misty, still messing about with something in her bag.
"I'll be back, I'm gonna go take a gander and see if I can't find where Madison wandered off to."
Smiling, he turned around and left the room. He had every intention of returning in that particular moment, but the further away from it he moved, the more he knew that he wouldn't. It had been a fun diversion, but there was plenty more party for Connor Lorenzen to explore.
((CONNOR LORENZEN CONTINUED IN THE DC TRIP))
The majority of the truth or dare circle piled out after Jeff, though Misty stayed behind, presumably to watch their spot, though she almost immediately wandered over to her bag and started fiddling around with it. Gauging his options, Connor finished off the remainder of his beer. Glancing at his watch, his brow furrowed a bit. It had been quite some time that he'd been sitting here, and he'd heard nary a peep from Madison. Not a text, not a frustrated yell; nothing at all.
Rising to his feet, Connor looked at Misty, still messing about with something in her bag.
"I'll be back, I'm gonna go take a gander and see if I can't find where Madison wandered off to."
Smiling, he turned around and left the room. He had every intention of returning in that particular moment, but the further away from it he moved, the more he knew that he wouldn't. It had been a fun diversion, but there was plenty more party for Connor Lorenzen to explore.
((CONNOR LORENZEN CONTINUED IN THE DC TRIP))
(Jeff Greene returning from Just Dance)
Oh, would you look at that, some of the kids had already ditched this game too. Yup, this party was wrapping up but good, which only further emboldened the decision that Jeff was about to make as he popped his head through the door.
"Yo, Stepney, I did your dumb song. Sorry you missed it." He took a step inside to fetch his water bottle and promptly strode right out the door. After a second's delay, he popped his head back in. "Oh, and you guys should be getting home. It's late."
He wouldn't deny that he had a twisted kind of fun at this party. It was nice to get out of his comfort zone a little. But at the same time, he was never, ever, in a hundred million years, going to do this stupid game again.
(Jeff Greene is finished with pregame. See you folks at the school trip)
Oh, would you look at that, some of the kids had already ditched this game too. Yup, this party was wrapping up but good, which only further emboldened the decision that Jeff was about to make as he popped his head through the door.
"Yo, Stepney, I did your dumb song. Sorry you missed it." He took a step inside to fetch his water bottle and promptly strode right out the door. After a second's delay, he popped his head back in. "Oh, and you guys should be getting home. It's late."
He wouldn't deny that he had a twisted kind of fun at this party. It was nice to get out of his comfort zone a little. But at the same time, he was never, ever, in a hundred million years, going to do this stupid game again.
(Jeff Greene is finished with pregame. See you folks at the school trip)