As Fisk strode his way closer to the group, more people had made their appearances. First was Bacchia, who was... difficult, to say the least. Most people could call her classy, and through a commoner’s eye, she certainly was. However, Fisk wasn’t a commoner, and he was able see right through that. She was fool’s gold, because she had the look, couldn’t doubt that, but she didn’t quite get the walk. No matter how classy you made yourself out to be, if you couldn’t appreciate class when you saw it, you weren’t classy. You didn’t get it, you just mimicked it, and that was her issue. That, and she also turned him down in freshman year. Of all the boys and girls he had to choose from, which was already a select few due to how rare class really is, nobody with class would turn down Fisk Bateman. He wasn’t bitter, because in the end, it was her loss, clearly.
The next arrival was Chris Tyrrell, whom Fisk was affable with, despite some obvious differences and potential incompatibilities. He wasn’t classy, if Fisk was to be honest. He was a commoner in every since of the word, and not only that he was a hater. For all intents and purposes these two should hate each other; yet they didn’t. Despite Chris’ rather bleh taste in hairstyles and fashion, and his distaste for ‘the different’ I.E. anyone who’s not a straight WASP, he appreciated Fisk’s class. Did that excuse Chris’ shit behavior. No it did not. Did it give him class? No. Is there hope for him? Sure. Besides, Fisk isn’t going to be a dick to someone that’s not a dick to him. That’s called being a hater, and haters aren’t classy. He’d keep his inner judgements to himself unless you were to act up and deserve a verbal chastisement. He gave Chris a smile and wave in return.
Before he could speak he heard Bacchia say “I brought the molly.” And speaking of fool’s gold. What did Fisk say about lack of class? You can have the look but none of the tact, and all that. Her voice sounded different though, and Fisk did a double take and- oh, where did &Virginia come from? She just sorta materialized out of nowhere. Now that joke makes more sense, of course it wasn’t Bacchia. You’re off the hook this time. Again, not bitter, your loss...
“On that note, I suppose it’s fine that I left the alcohol at home. Don’t think father would’ve appreciated me bootlegging from his whiskey locker.” Had he lived in the twenties a century ago, Fisk would have no qualms disrespecting the law by bootlegging, BUT he would still fear father’s wrath. He took the cigarette from his lips, tapping some ash onto the concrete, following a sensible chuckle. “Anywho, I brought some sweet tea and carnival confectionaries for the party.” Classier than saying deep fried Oreos. “If you guys need help bringing anything in, I’m still here.”
He couldn’t help but cringe at Chris’ greeting towards Mary. Unironically that was something that peeved him off a bit, maybe it was just a southern thing, but household hospitality was something that Fisk took very seriously. If you’re invited to a party, you should be grateful, don’t stick your nose up at the host like that, especially when you of all people are in no position to. “Heh, what a kidder, huh?” He side eyed Mary as Chris passed.
Rupert chimed in about what he brought. Good to go, Fisk thought. The sooner everything can get put away, the sooner the party starts. As he made his way to the driveway, he quickly realized Rupert wasn’t joking. Fisk took a quick glance, then another double take and immediately dropped his only half smoked cig, stomped it out, and rolled it into the public road outside Mary’s driveway. “Good Lord, man...”
While he wasn’t thankful for the verbal diarrhea Chris spewed, he was thankful for the help. Everyone would have to chime in a bit to get this literal grocery store worth of food inside. Truth be told, this was excessive, but again despite his lack of tact, Fisk approved of Rupert’s enthusiasm. Were we all honest, we’d have to say he was the MVP of the party for going all out. Fisk grabbed an armful of items to bring inside.
Now that introductions was out of the way, it was time to get to the part we’ve all been waiting for. The important question for Fisk now was who to mingle with for the time being.
((Fisk Bateman continued somewhere in Hurricaneball.))
Heads Will Roll
Mary's hurricane party, September 2020. Open!
Catche thinks my squirrel is Fisk so here's my daily reminder that he is not.
-
Primrosette
- Posts: 902
- Joined: Wed Aug 08, 2018 1:59 pm
- Location: In Her Dark Abyss
Bacchia was in a space in her own head and she knew that she had to get the ball rolling. She couldn't just stand around while everyone else was doing their own things. It was time to get the party rolling.
"Heh." She chuckled softly as she stepped inside with her own belongings that she has brought.
((Bacchia Rubus continued elsewhere))
"Heh." She chuckled softly as she stepped inside with her own belongings that she has brought.
((Bacchia Rubus continued elsewhere))
Mary picked up her share, and made her way inside.
"Right... be careful getting everything in. It's a lot, and I don't want people to trip."
((Mary Cheung continued in Kangaroo Court))
"Right... be careful getting everything in. It's a lot, and I don't want people to trip."
((Mary Cheung continued in Kangaroo Court))
CYBERS:
HARERAISER (Winter Castillo)The synthwave bunnygirl programmer roller weeb!
Currently: Confused? Horrified?
SECOND CHANCES
Junko KurosawaThink Johnny Knoxville but a teenage girl.
Currently: Ridng a shopping cart (in-between threads)
Bella Bianchi
Ballet dancer with pressure.
Currently: In the student lounge
(Meanwhile in the past...)
Everyone drifted in and subsequently dispersed like so much smoke. Virginia remained standing by the refreshments table for a few minutes, alone with the gradually dawning realization that she wasn't actually all that interested in any of the activities that she'd been told were available. Nothing besides sitting down, getting high, and eventually having a snack, anyway.
So, that was what she was going to do. She found an inviting spot on the couch and parked herself there, tucking her legs up underneath herself to avoid skirt mishaps. She then dug her baggie of molly out of her skirt pocket. Something that people unfamiliar with ecstasy usually didn't know was that tabs of molly didn't look like little white pills or whatever fictional TV shows depicted them as these days. They were usually colored, and sometimes came in fun little shapes. The ones Virignia was carrying today looked like the little chalky candy hearts that showed up on supermarket shelves every Valentine's Day and disappeared back into the abyss for the rest of the year.
Virginia shook a single tab out onto her palm, opened her mouth, and stuck the tablet neatly on her tongue. Then she settled back against the couch, closed her eyes, and waited for the vibrations of the music throbbing throughout the house to take her.
So, that was what she was going to do. She found an inviting spot on the couch and parked herself there, tucking her legs up underneath herself to avoid skirt mishaps. She then dug her baggie of molly out of her skirt pocket. Something that people unfamiliar with ecstasy usually didn't know was that tabs of molly didn't look like little white pills or whatever fictional TV shows depicted them as these days. They were usually colored, and sometimes came in fun little shapes. The ones Virignia was carrying today looked like the little chalky candy hearts that showed up on supermarket shelves every Valentine's Day and disappeared back into the abyss for the rest of the year.
Virginia shook a single tab out onto her palm, opened her mouth, and stuck the tablet neatly on her tongue. Then she settled back against the couch, closed her eyes, and waited for the vibrations of the music throbbing throughout the house to take her.
Leslie, with a paper plate overflowing with pizza and eggs and cupcakes and let's be honest here there might as well have just be a big bag of Domino-brand sugar, plopped on down on the other side of the currently occupied couch and got to munching.
Why was he here? Well, thank Buddy for that. Brother sure got real invested into going once he heard that mousy little junior was going, Cherise or whatever. Dude ain't slick.
"We should go!"
"C'mon, there'll be food and stuff."
"Please..."
As much as most of the other kids besides Buddy and Emmett that usually go to these kinds of get togethers were... let's say "interestin'", Leslie couldn't leave a brother hanging even if he was the equivalent of an emotional support dog. And it weren't like he was gonna do nothin' else other than hunker down with Mom at his uncle's place which, well, yeah this was kinda a better alternative. And he did like free food..., though was it really free when there was a toll to it? Eh, whatever. Hope they liked fish sticks.
Anyway, he did his wingman duty of just being there and they got to talking and fucked off somewhere, so Leslie made his way back to the refreshments table and got what he came for. At least it was kinda quiet here, besides whatever this garbage music Mary had playing was. Looked like it was just him and that California or Kansas or Missurah girl or whatever, though she weren't bothering none.
He shoved so many corn chips into his face hole and munched like a trash compactor, maybe smacking a little too louder than he would say he was but eh, whatever.
Why was he here? Well, thank Buddy for that. Brother sure got real invested into going once he heard that mousy little junior was going, Cherise or whatever. Dude ain't slick.
"We should go!"
"C'mon, there'll be food and stuff."
"Please..."
As much as most of the other kids besides Buddy and Emmett that usually go to these kinds of get togethers were... let's say "interestin'", Leslie couldn't leave a brother hanging even if he was the equivalent of an emotional support dog. And it weren't like he was gonna do nothin' else other than hunker down with Mom at his uncle's place which, well, yeah this was kinda a better alternative. And he did like free food..., though was it really free when there was a toll to it? Eh, whatever. Hope they liked fish sticks.
Anyway, he did his wingman duty of just being there and they got to talking and fucked off somewhere, so Leslie made his way back to the refreshments table and got what he came for. At least it was kinda quiet here, besides whatever this garbage music Mary had playing was. Looked like it was just him and that California or Kansas or Missurah girl or whatever, though she weren't bothering none.
He shoved so many corn chips into his face hole and munched like a trash compactor, maybe smacking a little too louder than he would say he was but eh, whatever.
((Kamille Rémy Martel: Sandbox Start))
There was a hurricane incoming, which meant that it was as good a time as any for a party. It wasn't as if anyone had anything else they could do. It wasn't the occasion that had made Kamille slightly nervous. It was no issue with the host or his relationship either. Kamille had been invited to Mary's hurricane party and he had been happy to accept and attend. Mary was a nice enough girl, cheerful and always with a joke to hand. He wasn't worried about his contribution to the potluck either. No, Kamille had produced some homemade popcorn chicken and stuffed bell peppers for the vegetarians. That way everyone was covered.
Kamille was nervous because he was late, and he was late because his car had suffered a flat tire. He had first noticed the distinctive bumping and lack of response to his steering as he was halfway to Mary's house. He had quickly glanced over to his phone to check the time left on his journey to see if he would have been able to push his luck. Unfortunately, that hadn't been a realistic option so he had been required to brave the elements.
Upon pulling over Kamille, had donned his jacket and gone to inspect the issue, finding his rear right tire was the culprit. He had endeavored to fix the issue as quickly as possible to be on his way, but the weather only served to slow him down. The rain blowing his hood down and slicking up his hair, while the wind rendered his carefully windswept style merely windswept.
He had managed to replace the tire with the spare and after dumping the flat into the trunk of his car he was back on his way and behind on his schedule arrival time by half of the journey. So he had ended up being late and also missing out on a prime parking spot. That had necessitated he park up the block from Mary's house, and he had successfully maneuvered his dark blue Altima so that it was nestled between a Chevrolet Equinox and Nissan Xterra. Kamille had donned his jacket once again, gathered up his tupaware and ventured forth.
Kamille didn't mind the rain but he certainly preferred it when it wasn't coating his glasses. He was just passing the Chevrolet when he had noticed that one of it wing-mirrors was hanging off on the drivers side. Pulling a face he had sighed and returned to his own car to put his wing-mirrors in and then he had finally managed to reach Mary's house.
Once he had arrived Kamille had knocked and then entered, coming face to paper with Mary's list of rules. He removed his jacket and shook it off outside of the doorway and hung it up on the nearest available hook and undid his laces and placed his shoes on the rack. The rules were common sense enough and easy to follow that he saw no potential issues and as such followed them to the letter. He had placed his containers on the table, and attached a sticky note with the label Vegetarian to the one containing the stuffed peppers.
Kamille was however disappointed by his own presentation. His hair, as previously noted, had been left at the mercy of the wind and while he normally had his shirt sleeves rolled up and top few buttons left undone for parties, the weather had certainly left him looking more than a little disheveled. He was also somewhat tired after his exertions with changing the tire in the conditions.
Luckily for him there was a free spot on the sofa next to Virginia that he eagerly collapsed into, tilting his head back with a sigh.
There was a hurricane incoming, which meant that it was as good a time as any for a party. It wasn't as if anyone had anything else they could do. It wasn't the occasion that had made Kamille slightly nervous. It was no issue with the host or his relationship either. Kamille had been invited to Mary's hurricane party and he had been happy to accept and attend. Mary was a nice enough girl, cheerful and always with a joke to hand. He wasn't worried about his contribution to the potluck either. No, Kamille had produced some homemade popcorn chicken and stuffed bell peppers for the vegetarians. That way everyone was covered.
Kamille was nervous because he was late, and he was late because his car had suffered a flat tire. He had first noticed the distinctive bumping and lack of response to his steering as he was halfway to Mary's house. He had quickly glanced over to his phone to check the time left on his journey to see if he would have been able to push his luck. Unfortunately, that hadn't been a realistic option so he had been required to brave the elements.
Upon pulling over Kamille, had donned his jacket and gone to inspect the issue, finding his rear right tire was the culprit. He had endeavored to fix the issue as quickly as possible to be on his way, but the weather only served to slow him down. The rain blowing his hood down and slicking up his hair, while the wind rendered his carefully windswept style merely windswept.
He had managed to replace the tire with the spare and after dumping the flat into the trunk of his car he was back on his way and behind on his schedule arrival time by half of the journey. So he had ended up being late and also missing out on a prime parking spot. That had necessitated he park up the block from Mary's house, and he had successfully maneuvered his dark blue Altima so that it was nestled between a Chevrolet Equinox and Nissan Xterra. Kamille had donned his jacket once again, gathered up his tupaware and ventured forth.
Kamille didn't mind the rain but he certainly preferred it when it wasn't coating his glasses. He was just passing the Chevrolet when he had noticed that one of it wing-mirrors was hanging off on the drivers side. Pulling a face he had sighed and returned to his own car to put his wing-mirrors in and then he had finally managed to reach Mary's house.
Once he had arrived Kamille had knocked and then entered, coming face to paper with Mary's list of rules. He removed his jacket and shook it off outside of the doorway and hung it up on the nearest available hook and undid his laces and placed his shoes on the rack. The rules were common sense enough and easy to follow that he saw no potential issues and as such followed them to the letter. He had placed his containers on the table, and attached a sticky note with the label Vegetarian to the one containing the stuffed peppers.
Kamille was however disappointed by his own presentation. His hair, as previously noted, had been left at the mercy of the wind and while he normally had his shirt sleeves rolled up and top few buttons left undone for parties, the weather had certainly left him looking more than a little disheveled. He was also somewhat tired after his exertions with changing the tire in the conditions.
Luckily for him there was a free spot on the sofa next to Virginia that he eagerly collapsed into, tilting his head back with a sigh.
The little pseudo-candy tabs that Virginia had were not just your standard rave ecstasy that had been cut with God knew what. She'd gotten them from Dana the previous weekend; she didn't know where Dana got it and had never bothered to ask. Virginia had yet to have any real adverse effects from the stuff she bought off her friends, so whoever they originally got it from was good in her book.
Even the good stuff took at least 30 minutes to kick in, but just the act of letting the tab dissolve on her tongue and settling back on the couch was enough to start a little placebo effect of relaxation. Loud chewing somewhere nearby drifted into Virginia's sphere of awareness, but it wasn't quite enough to interrupt the state of zen she was trying to sink into. The sudden impact of someone dropping onto the couch next to her, however, bounced her up physically and snapped her back into awareness.
She opened her eyes again, blinking at the light of the room for a moment, and then turned to the person that had disturbed her. She knew him, somewhat; he was on the student council. Kam-something, with a K. Special K. She smiled a little at her own stray thought.
"You're wet," she pointed out unnecessarily.
Even the good stuff took at least 30 minutes to kick in, but just the act of letting the tab dissolve on her tongue and settling back on the couch was enough to start a little placebo effect of relaxation. Loud chewing somewhere nearby drifted into Virginia's sphere of awareness, but it wasn't quite enough to interrupt the state of zen she was trying to sink into. The sudden impact of someone dropping onto the couch next to her, however, bounced her up physically and snapped her back into awareness.
She opened her eyes again, blinking at the light of the room for a moment, and then turned to the person that had disturbed her. She knew him, somewhat; he was on the student council. Kam-something, with a K. Special K. She smiled a little at her own stray thought.
"You're wet," she pointed out unnecessarily.
Oh neat, Kamille was here too. He was a good guy, real quiet. Knew when to stop talking, so he was a great conversationalist. Not that Leslie ever probably said more than a "howdy" or "good morn'n" to him, but that was the kinda energy he radiated.
Kamille was usually well put together too, but... ouch. He was kinda lookin' like a wet sheepdog right now. Poor man.
After Virginia helpfully pointed out how particularly moist Kamille was lookin', Leslie chimed in too, mouth half full with a mishmash of corn chips and pigs in a blanket. "You want like a towel or sum'n, man?"
Kamille was usually well put together too, but... ouch. He was kinda lookin' like a wet sheepdog right now. Poor man.
After Virginia helpfully pointed out how particularly moist Kamille was lookin', Leslie chimed in too, mouth half full with a mishmash of corn chips and pigs in a blanket. "You want like a towel or sum'n, man?"