Logs:The Grand Spring Pajama Party
The Grand Spring Pajama Party
|Characters:||Organizer: Kai, Caterer: Lambert, Guests: Marek, Hudson, Mingzhu, Slip, Taylor, Jeanie, Eerie, Charity, Ian, Darcy, Axle and Brent|
|Summary:||Pillow forts, prizes, candyflipping, Truth or Dare, Spin the Bottle and a flock of sheep. This Spring Court party has everything!|
|Disclaimers:||Drug usage, sexual references.|
Everybody received a giftbag containing:
Toothbrush and toothpaste (it looks like an oversized plastic pastel pen, but it’s actually a toothbrush and toothpaste, and a little cup for rinsing) Small, soft washcloth rolled up with a paper band Scented rose in a box, where each detachable petal is made of soap Little bottle of Bath and Bodyworks hand sanitizer Lip balm (different flavors) Satin sleep mask, earplugs, neck pillow, wrapped in a fleece blanket held together with a paper band (each set comes in different colors) Small stuffed animal, something cute and plush Breath mints in fancy floral tins Gourmet chocolates in round paper box Assorted macarons in a square paper box Pen and notepad set, assorted colors and designs LED flashlight keychain in the shape of a cute animal Confetti poppers (little champagne bottles) Bubbles (slender tubes in spring colors) Wildflower seed bombs in a colorful paper bag Glass rose-topped wine bottle stopper (for taking home leftover wine) Aluminum water bottle that says ‘I survived the Spring 2020 Bash’ on it $10 gift card for nearby coffee shop Raffle tickets Handwritten personal note thanking recipient for coming
The music is playing, and the dim lights are cycling through colors, all cool and psychedelic. Kai lingers near the entrance to the ballroom in a deer onesie that's a little too big for him. He's had his face painted with spring flowers and a butterfly on one cheek. He's passing out goodie bags to people who come in. Forget about carding anyone, he's no gatekeeper. He's here to welcome people!
Sleeping bag and pillow in tow, Marek makes his way to the ballroom. He's dressed in a sheep onesie, all white and soft and wooly looking. He's laughing as he chatters animatedly with Hudson, clacking one of his hands like a crab pincer as he tells some story to the other wolf. Out of the back flap of the onesie, a decidedly realistic wolf's tail pokes out, wagging leisurely, giving the chef for the evening a glimpse of some real fur.
Marek smiles at Kai and chirps, "Hey, Kai!" chipperly. He glances at the decor and grins big. "It looks awesome all lit, dude!"
Hudson doesn't know Kai, but Marek does, so he got an invitation by association! It doesn't take a lot to get Hudson to a party in any case, and esepcially not a pyjama party, so the two show up pretty much on time! Hudson is wearing a Pikachu onesie, because he is so cool, with a tail and cute little ears and everything! He wasn't sure what kind of a party it really was, other than one held by fairies, so he has a bottle of some dubiously good, brightly colored booze in his right hand, which he swings about energetically as he wanders in, chatting and laughing away with his packmate. Hudson grins broadly at Kai when Marek speaks to him, looking around the room and nodding in agreement. "It's sick!" he enthuses.
Now, it is normally the case that Mingzhu rides the cutting edge of fashion with bold colours and prints. Some might think she would do the same for pyjamas - but that turns out not to be the case. Deep royal blue is the colour, loose and comfortable, though looking slightly strange against the almost charcoal grey of her skin - for those who can see her mien, anyhow.
She takes her goodie bag from Kai, offering the other Lost a small smile, then steps into the room and looks around to see who else is about.
Slip might've come prepared for some proper camping, given that she's got a whole backpack on her back, clearly stuffed full, with a pillow in a plain black pillow case tucked beneath her left arm. In her right hand, she's got a candy tin that looks like Blinky from Pac-Man, the red ghost, with something clattering within. Spotting the wolf-in-sheep's-clothing arriving not far ahead of them, she leans in to the adorable lamb at her side, bumping shoulders with Taylor, as she murmurs to them, "I like your tail better." And shamelessly gives their bottom, right beside that fluffy fake sheep tail, a squeeze. That risks dropping her pillow, a fairly quick catch seeing that accessory promptly pressed to her chest. Sidling up to Kai, she notes to him, "Anybody needs something special..." with a little shake of her ghosty tin. "I'm sure somebody brought enough to share." The whole thing, though, goes into her goodie bag for now, a place to hold it until she's set up camp and is ready to distribute.
Slip's pajamas, for what it's worth, consist of grey plaid pajama pants, fuzzy purple socks and a black tee which reads PARADISE. Plus make-up. And accessories. Because she is out and socializing. Details matter.
Do sweats count as pajamas? That's at least what Jeanie is wearing, oversized Tulane sweatshirt with equally baggy (and COMFY) pants. She may have gotten an invitation somehow, but seeing as she's arrived alone, the human was awkwardly hanging on the outskirts of the ballroom until spotting the first somewhat familiar face in a pikachu costume. "Hudson! Hey! Wait up!" She'll do her best to try and catch up quickly, but pauses when reaching Kai and the goodie bags and blinks. "Oh, hey... funny meeting you here."
Eerie doesn't know -most- of these people. What few they do know certainly didn't invite them, but when a newly-arrived magical faction arrives in your city, and announce a giant party? It can be a good idea to show up. Or a terrible one. It's usually a terrible one. Especially during a communicable plague. But the Constable has been deprived of the ability to hang out in a group for quite awhile, and thus: Eerie Wright, Constable, Necromancer, Pajama Partier.
They arrive dressed to spec. A onesie -had- been planned, but abandoned at the last moment for pajamas made of silk, in a purple so dark it's almost black. An open robe hangs over the loose-fitting pants and a tight-fitted black v-neck tank top. They haven't gone for full-face makeup but there is a dramatic, dark, smudged application of eyeliner. The lack of gloves, hood, and the loose-fitting nature means quite a bit more of Eerie shows than normal, and it becomes apparent whenever they move that while few identifying marks show in their normal attire, from wrist down the arms and from the collarbone downward on their chest, they're covered in black-and-grey tattoos of wedge-and-line writing and simple-lined symbols that wouldn't look out of place in a secret society's occult workings. They carry a duffle bag over one shoulder that makes quiet metal-on-metal clinkings when Eerie moves.
"Oh, hey." This is aimed at Slip, one of only two people Eerie recognizes. "Who's your friend?"
Kai beams and hugs Marek, then waves to Hudson and says, "Hi!" Goodie bags are distributed as he flits. "I love your pajamas!" he declares to people coming in. "Hello!" He waves to Mingzhu. He's thrumming with excitement. People! To those who can see, he's glowing brightly. Yet, in all his attentiveness, he does a good job of not noticing Slip might be talking about illicit substances. Plausible deniability, he has it. "Hi, Jeanie! I'm throwing the party. Don't forget a goodie bag." Then he flashes Eerie a grin. "Hi! Here's a goodie bag."
A bump of shoulders replied to in kind, and a warmly amused smile on Taylor's lips as they shrug. "Soon there'll be a herd. And I'll blend like no one's business," they reply to Slip's preference, in their own oversized and fluffy white sheep onesie. Though the slippers they wear with it are grey and clawed, like they're meant to go with a wolf costume instead. "And I can shake it on request," is their addition, for the company they arrive with, on the subject of said tail that earns that preference. Up to tiptoes to not just allow the squeeze, but to promote it. They have a small sleeping bag under their opposite arm, in unforgivingly bright yellow that might just threaten to glow in the dark. Price tag still attached from the store it was lifted from. If there's a pillow, it'd have to be tucked inside.
They might have intoned, earlier, at spotting Slip's shirt, a rendition of 'para-, para-, paradise' that no one will suffer an ear worm for, if they'd only spotted such presently. Sly excitement shifting that warm expression to a grin when the tin is produced before Kai, another promise of fun ahead, even as curiosity turns their gaze to those about - to those of a predatory kind, and the Lost hosting them. "Taylor. Or Tay, preferably," is the easy answer they give on their own behalf, when Eerie asks. Suspecting that they are the one referenced. "Cool duds," they add, in Eerie's direction, for the dark silk.
Marek hugs Kai back and takes a moment to introduce him to Hudson. "This is my boy, Hudson. Hudson, this is that poor dude I chased the other night. Kai." The number of people coming by keeps him brief though, so he tugs at Hudson's arm and urges, "We better take the high ground for our fort. I'm certain there will be pillow fort wars as the night progresses and we need to be prepared!"
As he makes off for whatever 'the high ground' might consist of, the others get amiable smiles and little waves should they make the mistake of meeting the wolf's eyes. Taylor gets a enthusiastic thumbs up and bright-as-sunshine smile for their choice of costume along with a loud bleating, "Be-aaa-aaa-aaah-st costume!" He does have the humility to blush after such a lame joke, but is easily distracted when he spots Jeanie's Tulane shirt. That merits a loud and boisterous rendition of Tulane's Hullabaloo Cheer.
"As if," Slip quips quietly aside to Taylor, dryly disbelieving in this particular sheep's ability to blend into the crowd. It might be the yellow sleeping bag, glaring like an obnoxious beacon in the party lights. Eerie's approach is answered with a bright smile and a lift of her ghost-holding hand, pleasantly clattering all the way, to point to the wolf who sees to their side of the introductions before she can. "Tay," she echoes before gesturing to the Constable. "Eerie. Whose eyes are popping tonight. Love the look." All of it, to judge by the way her attention creeps down the right back up. A bit clumsily, hands full, she pulls the lid off the tin to hold it out to Eerie, a bunch of tablets stamped with violet butterflies. Is somebody policing the event? Let's hope not. She's not at all shy about offering up, "Party favor?"
Hudson cheers enthusiastically when he gets handed a goodie bag, his face splitting with a broad grin as he opens it up and starts rifling through the contents with interest. "Sweeet" he chatters, mostly to himself as he pulls out a few of the larger items, stashing them rather awkwardly about his person as he gives each item the once over. He looks up when Jeanie hurries over to greet him, and Hudson gives her another of those broad grins. "Hey! From the pinball machine right?" he greets her, before jerking his head in the direction of his sheep-suited companion. "This is my buddy Marek" he laughs, when Marek busts into some crazy cheer thing. And with that, he is being tugged away to go and claim prime strategic pillow fort territory. A glance is cast across the rest of the gathering crowd as he starts off, nostrils flaring just a little as he tries to decipher all the new, and occasionally somewhat colourful, new faces!
Finding herself somewhere to perch - on the steps leading down into the orchestral pit - Mingzhu examines the contents of the goodie bag, taking out the little tin of lip balm and opening it to smell the contents, before applying some. Yay, vanilla flavour. Once she's thoroughly investigated the bag, she stands and tucks it under one arm, and looks around for where to grab a drink from. And is unable to resist the siren song of the milk and cookie station, heading thattaway with haste.
Jeanie laughs as one of the sheep-wolves burst out into Hullabaloo and it might bring shame to her sweatshirt but the law student's attempt to join end stumbles a bit but she does reach the final Tee-ay Tulane! In time. She nods confirmation for Hudson. "Yeah, with the pinball machine and the karaoke. And wait... Marek like Fawn's Marek?" How many Mareks that go to Tulane are running around anyways? And she definitely can't resist Kai's goody bag although with all that is fitted in there she gives a surprised oof when it's handed. "That seems more like a goodie duffle bag. Thanks, Kai! I'm sure it'll be a fantastic party!"
"Well, like, at the very least, accepted among them," Taylor retorts to Slip's disbelief at the notion of them blending. They concede to that point without much arguement. Maybe they tend to stand out just a little. Two wolves in sheeps clothing connect - gaze first, and then mutual humor. The lame joke must be elevated by Marek leaning into the telling, because there's a near-snort that precedes Taylor's laughed response. "Sheep of a feather," they begin to tell Marek. "Flock together." It's a double-pun - twice as terrible for the duality. And they answer the thumbs up with finger-guns; one of which arrives awkwardly, for the sleeping bag beneath their arm. Yeah, they don't blend well. Their attention soon enough back on the tin as it opens, like their sensitive hearing had been waiting for the dull scrape of flexible metals beneath the tunes. They don't reach, well behaved in not pilfering the attended and non-shiny. But their expression and body language makes their asking as clear as a pup muscling in on the chairs at a dinner table, looking for their share, completely unsubtle. Head tilting toward many mentions of goodie bags that distract. Free is the implication. They seem to like free.
"Oh, I always bring my own," Eerie assures Kai. The bag is taken, regardless, and Eerie reaches into their own bag, pulls out a sheet of stamps in purple and black with spades (like the card suit) on them to tear one off for Kai. "Have one, they're -delicious-." And with no warning other than that, they move off toward Slip and Taylor. "Why thank you," they say, regarding Taylor's compliment. "You're so fluffy I'm gonna die, but in a good way. And thank you, I stabbed myself in the cornea like eighty times, I'm out of practice." When Slip offers tablets, Eerie snatches one up and pops it into their mouth, before holding up their sheet of 'stamps' with raised eyebrows, offering.
Kai perks up as the stamp is offered. "Oh! Thank you!" Poor innocent deerboy. He doesn't seem to know what to do with it at first, so he licks it until it's damp, then sticks it to his forehead. Whee! "Be sure to get something to eat, everyone. Lambert is a world-class chef, and he's volunteered to cook for us tonight." He makes sure goody bags are distributed, and then he looks around to see where there might be flagging in entertainment. "Remember the open bar!" Then he sees some of the werewolves settling in to make a pillow fort. "Oh, dear." Ah, well. Surely nothing bad will come of it! He doesn't hastle Slip, after all, she's just handing out candy, right?
"Worth a bit of blindness," Slip assures Eerie, though she's briefly distracted by the wolf-sheep exchanging greetings, her smile wide and dopey, one of her weird ears--for those who can see them--remaining tilted toward Hudson even after her attention has moved on. Her shoulders sink with an audible sigh as those purple-and-black tabs are presented. This merits correction, an aside to Taylor to issue promotion, "My best friend, Eerie. They're a PI." Like that's what uppped their rank and now the offer of illicit substances. Pulling a pair of the tablets from her tin, she replaces the lid, though there's a quick scan of the crowd to see if there's anyone else who looks interested yet. Whatever she finds, she tips a nod toward somewhere over there as she offers over one of the tablets to the not-particularly-sheepish pup at her side, suggesting to her fellow delvers, "How about we get ourselves situated so we can sink into the party all right and proper?"
Marek grins at Jeanie as she gets the tail end of the cheer and applauds her enthusiastically. He quiets, letting her and Hudson have their brief conversation, piping in with, "That would be me!" in response to her inquiry about Fawn and his relationship. He offers a fist to bump and smiles, "Good to meetcha." He pauses and offers, "Want in on our pillow fort? Or do you have a team?"
He laughs at Taylor's continuation of flock unity, but as they seem to be waiting for scooby snacks, he lets them be.
"If my fluffiness proves fatal, I will not apologize. I've just gotta be me," Taylor replies to Eerie. With the kind of bright smile, that briefly displays the blunted white teeth the contrast the Ithaeur's predatory aura, and also shows pride and gratitude for the compliment. And for the laugh they earn out of Marek. Lethally fluffy was what they were going for. "Sounds like a fun gig. Are you your own boss?" they ask Eerie. The sheet of stamps is considered in turn. And their wide, grey eyes are set to blinking as they watch Kai apply one directly to the forehead. "I don't think that's quite how Hendrix did it," they observe, softly. They don't take a stamp. Or maybe they just forgo it for now, with the contects of the tin having captivated first - given room to do its thing, as he pops one of those 'scooby snacks' onto their tongue, and tucks it into their mouth to swallow. "If this is the proper way, I think I might be a natural."
Once it's decided that it is pillowfort time, Hudson turns his attention to the rest of the room, looking it over with a scrutinising air. "You want a spot with good line of sight so you can get a real solid toss in!" Hudson suggests, miming throwing something and following it up with a somewhat alarming explosion sound effect, which is unlikely given pillows as ammunition. He looks between Jeanie and Marek as they speak, eyebrows lifting a little, before glancing back at the group near the door as pills and colourful stamps are exchanged. There's a laugh when he spots Kai sticking the stamp to his forehead. "We should get supplies too!" Hudson suggests, with a pointed glance in the direction of the banquet table.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Jeanie!" And she'll return that fist bump enthusiastically. "And I can lend a hand. I think my team may have gotten a little bit distracted since I haven't seen them here yet." They snooze, they lose the high ground. And maybe get a pillow to the face if they ever show up. It's only fair. And she'll nod at Hudson's pillow fort tactics, not even an eyebrow raised at the alarming explosion sounds. "I'll start claiming pillows or uhh ammunition rather! And maybe some chairs we can set up for a platform if you wanna grab whatever other supplies you think you might need?"
"There's more fun to come, but that's the one with ramp-up time." Eerie shoots a look over their shoulder just as Kai licks the stamp and sticks it to his head. That stamp is prone to disintegrating when wet, so it'll probably be more like an inky smear than a stamp that remains. How much LSD can you absorb in a quick lick? Can it go through the skin? Let's find out, with Kai as the test subject. "But yeah, let's sit. I'm very much a stay-in-one-spot-and-let-others-circulate-past type at gatherings like this, besides, we've got party favors, people will swing by to say hi. And, uh-" Eerie ponders Taylor's question momentarily, "I had a boss, until recently, but he's gone. So I'm, y'know, proceeding on the assumption that I'm in charge of shit now, yeah. For the moment."
Marek nods enthusiastically as team wolf gets organized. "Yeah! Good line of sight and... Hmm. Close to the bar. Priorities!" He snickers and collects his pillow under his arm, digging into the pockets inside his floopy sheep onesie. He pulls out a couple bags of balloons and hands them to his co-conspirators. Pillows? Psh.
Marek says in a low voice, "If we start to lose, I brought some extra ammo." He grins wickedly and then perks up at Hudson's idea. "Yeah!" he says with glee. "Supplies! Lambert worked his tail off on the food and it's freaking good! I had a preview last night and Oh Em Gee!" He glances at Hudson and intones reverently, "If she's on our team, ya better give her the sticker, dude."
Hair in a pair of messy buns, and wearing a maroon velvet set of cami and short shorts, with black monster paw slippers, in meanders Charity. The not-a-wolf's amber eyes take a moment to take everything in. A second to flare her nostrils and take in the scents. And then she wanders in a bit further, scanning the crowd for familiar-ish faces.
Look, Ian tried to go with the sleepover theme properly. He had a seamstress and everything. Trouble is, since he didn't trouble someone of the court, they literally couldn't see his wings, and when he said "backless", they gave him this tiny little hole cut in the back of the damn onesie which, frankly, he ripped through the instant he tried it on. These damn wings are made of glass and they do not yield to mere fabric. He ended up in something a bit less cuddly and a bit more sensual - pink silk and lace lingeree meant for a woman (but backless, for the wings only some people can see) and a pair of comfortable pajama pants hanging low on his hips below the fluttering hem of the silk top. He's with a stout, slightly gray-haired man with a barely-tamed beard and a tee shirt that reads "PEOPLE IN SLEEPING BAGS... are the soft tacos of the bear world". The pair of them stop at the door and Ian plants a hand on Bill's arm to keep the man from wandering off towards the bar. "I could just go home?" He sounds a little bit... worried. We'll go with worried.
"Weaponized wool," Slip considers of the extra-fluffy Taylor, finding their potential lethality entirely plausible. Her brow furrows with some mixture of concern and curiosity at what Kai opts to do with the LSD, murmuring, "I hope he finds someone to lick that off." Because applying tongue to a mark on a cute guy's forehead is ordinary behavior. Sure. Opting for the full candyflipping experience, she takes one of Eerie's tabs and one of her own butterfly-stamped tablets with a mind to pursue a source of water soon after they settle. But the settling really does need to happen first, that great unloading of gift bags and pillows, of backpacks and sleeping bags. It all comes down in a pile, first, but the darkling is quick to unpack her own blankets and make a sprawling homebase with the more ordinary goodies lined up nearby and the less-than-legal treats tucked away. But not until after she's given her ghost tin a quick shove ceiling-ward and a good shake to let it rattle, like she's calling curious pups over for treats. It might help if she also called 'free molly!' across the ballroom, but she's trying to respect Kai's attempt at innocence. Once satisfied that everything's all situated and settled, she asks Taylor, "Wanna grab us something to drink?" before a sweep of the room catches Charity. "Ooh, you should meet her." And then to Eerie, who's already professed a preferece for staying put, "Do you dance?"
Is that a pillowfort? The swallowed pill won't take effect for awhile, proving that the immaturity of captured interest there is genuine. Yes, Taylor thinks that's cool, the interest of their gaze says as much and applies the adjective, further, to those gathered around it. But they're also dressed in an oversized sheep onesie with wolf paw slippers, so why anyone would think otherwise of their taste, is a mystery. "That's the smart way to go," they say, as their attention is brought back to the conversation and the answer gained from the PI. "Just roll with it until your promotion proves itself, like, true or false." And, rolling with things in turn, they follow along with the voted motion to find a seat.
"Weapons of mass cuddlestruction," they state direly to Slip, in a shift toward the faux serious that their expression doesn't sell. Rather, they smile a little to hard for that effect to sink in. And for licking the stamp off someone's forhead, as a potential open task for the room? "Ultimate icebreaker." They set down their sleeping bag but don't bother to roll it out. Fetching drinks? They give a sharp, energetic nod to instill the notion that they most certainly have this. The addition of someone they should meet followed toward the target. "Got it," they confirm. But drinks first. They march with purpose toward the open bar, which hardly looks as cool as it might feel, given present attire. Sleeping bag with the price tag still attached, left behind in a roll.
Kai hands goody bags out to newcomers, and he's in a deer onesie, with his face painted with spring flowers and a butterfly on one cheek. On his forehead is an ink smudge. "Here, take a goody bag," he says to Charity, and then he perks up as he sees Ian. "Hello! Here! Have a goody bag." He gives one to Bill, too, and laughs at his shirt. It's right around the time he's giving Bill the goody bag that the LSD hits. He blinks slowly, and he stares at Ian and Bill. "Ha...hi, wow. You should... you should have something to eat, and you should dance. The lights are so pretty." He smiles. "Everything's pretty. It's a party."
Having savoured three cookies in her glass of milk, Mingzhu drinks the rest, discarding her empty glass to wherever those need to go, then drifting over towards Ian with two fresh glasses of milk and two cookies in hand. These are offered to the dragon and his companion, with a small smile. "It's a good party. It has cookies and milk."
There's a delighted hoot from Hudson when Marek produces the bags of balloons, that already broad grin bursting into a happy laugh as he turns them over in his hands and then shoves them into the pocket of his oh-so-cool Pikachu onesie. He rummages around a second, before producing from that same pocket a sticker on a paper backing, with the design of a bright green....zombie werewolf on it. IT's pretty cartoony. It is possible there were more of these originally, but there are also several stickers stuck around the place in a little trail that follows Hudson around the room. With this sticker though, Hudson charges in the direction of Jeanie, and attaches it somewhere to her sweater unless she objects. With that taen care of, attention turns back toward the food. "It looks pretty awesome" Hudson agrees with a nod to Marek. "I kinda gotta craving for Moussaka now though" he laughs.
"-Dance-? Oh, not around -people-. Or at least, not around -living- people. Dead men tell no tales, especially if you order them not to, but live folks judge." Eerie doesn't unpack any pillows or blankets, but is perfectly happy to take a sprawling seat on Slip's, and to begin unpacking bottles of flavored, carbonated water in a rainbow of varieties - as well as a couple of gallon jugs of flat, unflavored. You never know when bubbles and strawberry flavoring is going to suddenly be way too intense. Other Eerie Party Supplies include chewing gum, and some 5-hour energy shots (yay b12). The clinking, if anyone's watching as Eerie unpacks the more generic party favors, seem to come from a gallon ziploc bag filled with tiny metal canisters, sometimes banging against the whipped cream dispenser they're next to. Oh-so-surprisingly, Eerie hasn't seemed to remember any heavy whipping cream. "What about you?" Eerie asks of Tay. "I know -vaguely- what Slip does, and what her deal is, sort of. I know not to use the F-word now, too. What brings you to a party for the weird?"
"As long as being near the bar doesn't end up with someone deciding to lob molotov cocktails anywhere. I'm assuming somebody is going to want a deposit back after all this," Jeanie adds that probably (hopefully) unneeded warning but considering who she normally hangs out with... it bears saying anyways as she's already bustling to set up the chair-platform complete with some screeeeeeching as she drags some chairs across the ballroom floor. "I mean, bring whatever extra ammo you want, cause you're not going to need it cause we're gonna be the BEST pillow fort team ever. Just look at this vantage point we're gonna have. Plus... seems like nobody else has even started on making forts." She beams a smile to both her new found partners in pillow arms, completely convinced This Will Work, especially as she's now sporting the fancy-cheesy zombie werewolf sticker. "Sweet! And I think I saw some Moussaka over past the cookie table."
Charity flashes a bright, toothy smile to Kai as she's handed the goodie back. "Much appreciated," the Brit chirps, before glancing over her shoulder to spy Ian and Bob the Beard. A tip of her head, and then she's moving away. Fingers waggled towards the spied Slip, before she's stalking along the edge of the room. Ponder, ponder.
"Kai?" Ian asks curiously as he takes the bag. "Are you all right?"
Bill, who knows a high when he sees one, herds Ian along towards the bar. "He's fine. Or he will be. Don't harsh his buzz."
"Buzz?" Ian is asking, and then there are goodies to inspect as the dragon peers into his bag. "Ooh." He found the chocolates.
Ian will be occupied with chocolates while Bill takes to the bar with a, "Glenfiddich on the rocks, please." He prefers to be unsober for his babysitting duties.
Ian's attention pops back up, chocolate in mouth, and roams the room. He /does/ look impressed, really! And a little worried, but also impressed. "I see Slip," he says, and brightens up a bit, before forging forward into the room towards familiar faces. Bill can stay behind at the bar and haul Ian out later.
And belatedly, just as he's setting out on his cross-ballroom journey, Ian runs into Mingzhu. "Are those cookies?" Yeah, the way to the dragon's heart is through the stomach - avoid the ribcage that way. He accepts a glass of milk and a cookie. "I was just going to check in with Slip, want to come?"
A little bit after Charity wanders in a wolf-wolf. Well, inasmuch as he's more a wolf than she is. Darcy's in a pair of black pajama pants with white pocket edges and a white t-shirt with black stitching and a black breast pocket. He has Godzilla slipp--no, wait, that's not Godzilla. That's REPTAR. Way better somehow. He stops near the door and glances around, looking charmed.
With Taylor and their threat of cuddlestruction dashing off toward less hydrating drinks and Eerie declaring a no dancing around living people rule, Slip is left to plop down beside the constable on the blanketed expanse she's laid out. "I might have to ask for some living-free dance time," she floats, but she's almost certainly already planning to try again later, once the one-two punch of happy fun drugs hits. As if she'll remember by then. "I like how prepared you are," says the darkling who anticipated relying on the skillful planning of her fellow spring to see her through the overnight, but there's some side-eye for the PI when they suggest they know what her deal is. "I like some F-words." But she's not naming any, not categorizing. Instead, she's looking across the crowd, an arm shooting up to wave at Ian and Mingzhu, purple painted lips puckering to blow a long distance kiss at the pair. Another finger-wiggling wave goes to Charity when eye contact is made, an arch of brows implying ... well, some sort of invitation. But then there's a Reptar, and her smile skews a bit off-center, dopey. And she does absolutely nothing to draw Darcy's attention. Where's the fun in that.
Inspired by Jeanie's utter faith in The Plan, Marek helps her arrange things into a good, impromptu fort. He mutters something about pit traps, but then he shakes his head looks at Jeanie, whispering, "That's a deposit wrecker too, huh? No pit traps... no molotovs... jeesh." He pats his sheep onesie and perks back up, unloading a few cans of silly string to the growing arsenal. It's a Blood Talon thing.
Marek giggles at Hudson, seeing him staring so intently at the buffet. "See if they have anything heavy on the meat for me. I'm gonna hit the bar, do you want something boozy?"
He looks at Jeanie and offers, "Want me to grab you a drink? Yer a Zombie like us now, so I'll do some fetching for ya!" He beams at that, stealing a glance at Taylor, not-so-subtly showing off his pack's manners. Flock!
"Performer!" is the answer called back at Eerie in leave. Taylor turning to face the target of the reply, then the rest of the way back around to return their trajectory to what's ahead, narrowly avoiding collision with who they might pass. The open bar is reached without distraction, otherwise. An IPA is selected (not to their own preference, but that of company), and they pause, considerations for what to add beyond that. Taylor chooses something bright and red, pointing out Sour Puss to the attending, and a citrus soda to break up the syrupy thickness of the drink with, without diluting the color too much. As if that's the main purpose to the mixed sugar high that fills three short glasses. They nod at Bill, also at the bar, a greeting that would have more grace if not beneath the sheep-face of their hood. Or the simple sugary mixes better housed at a rave, selected. To the fellow wolf that is Marek, a big smile. "Cool fort. Gonna visit later," they promise. Preceeding the 'return' journey of this act of fetching.
The IPA gets tucked in against their side by their forearm, not yet to chill them for the thickness of that fluffy onesie. The three glasses balanced against one another, craddled between both hands as they turn away from the bar, the ice within clinking against the glass and more dully against one another. It's a slower pace that brings them with this loot, back to where they'd left Eerie and Slip, if they haven't - separately or together - found their way to the dance floor. It's with equal caution that they descend, until cross legged before them, so they can dip to one side, setting the IPA down from the hold of arm and flank, then the three red drinks between them, sour and raspberry with a citrus spash.
Charity, not having noticed the wolf at her heels, continues on. And towards Slip as that silent offer of ...something is given. Winding her way through the crowd in the manner of one well accustomed to galas and fundraisers. Even if she's usually in heels for those, instead of the black monster-paw slippers. She peeks into the goodie bag, and from within the pocket of her shorts, withdraws her phone. A quick text sent off, before the phone is put back away. "Now this is an interesting set up."
The bartender serves up drinks, and it's an open bar so he loses nothing by being generous. There's a tip jar on the bar inspiring him to be, too. Kai gazes at Darcy and smiles. "Have a goodie bag," he says, offering one forth. "The food tonight has been prepared by a five-start chef and features a Greek theme, and a master baker has prepared the sweets." His tone is friendly, but he's very awake and doesn't blink. "Feel free to look around and have a good time!"
One of the hired helpers carefully coaxes Kai away from the door and tells him, "You mingle, I'll hand out goody bags."
Kai wanders away from the door and over to where there are cookies and milk. He stops midway, though and stares at the dance lights.
"I like a -majority- of f-words, with a few very notable exceptions, and I liked this one, but it was made very clear that 'Lost' is the preferred term." Eerie points off toward Mingzhu, "By Ms. Baak, in fact. Then I bartered for her earrings. She's all right, I think." Eerie stretches, shoulders rolling and jaw working. Even if they're not ramping up yet, the placebo effect always gets your heart racing -awful- quick when you take brightly colored pills from girls at parties without asking explicitly what they are first. Was that pure MDMA? Was it cut with meth? Who knows, that's the fun part. Eerie is nineteen, knows magic, and is indestructible and a human in a room full of people who probably aren't. "You wanna see preparation, you should see my van. The job comes with so many toys to play with. As Taylor heads off for drinks, Eerie watches them go with a grin while they talk to Slip. "Welcome back," is offered upon their return with drinks.
It's in the middle of his advance on the pillow fort of the damned - or really, just wherever the hell Slip is - that Ian gets sidetracked by the buzzing of his phone. "Shit." He fishes it out - the pink plaid pajama pants have pockets - and puts the rose gold thing to his ear. "What's wrong?" This is said around a mouthful of cookie because he needed a hand free and that's the best way to clear it. "Sorry," he adds in Mingzhu's direction, and scoots towards the wall to go communicate with whoever had the emergency requiring calling him at this hour.
Elevator doors slide apart to admit Axle to the fete, barefooted as she steps across the threshold from the elevator car and into the cavernous ballroom. She's dressed in her version of pajamas: a faded AC/DC tee shirt; a pair of black boxer briefs. She stuffs. Or has stuffed /something/ into the man-pouch at the front of the under shorts. Could be a sock. Could be where she has stashed her phone and wallet; who knows!
Darcy takes a goodie bag and gives Kai a quick grin. "Hey." He peeks in the goodie bag and then grins again. "Thanks." Being a werewolf means never having to say no to chocolate. He strays towards the bar and picks up a drink -- screwdriver -- and then glances around again. It's not long before honed senses focus in on the two people present that he _knows_, and so he makes his way Slip-ward, by way of Charity. Reptar. Rar.
Brent walks into the ballroom and snags a goodie bag, which he loops over an arm using the handles for now. He's been in and out all evening dressed in street clothes, delivering goodies, doing things as the Accord Lost messenger and general gopher. But now he appears in pajamas! With Count Von Count on! He's got some sense of humor. He glances around for anyone familiar and, not seeing a face he recognizes, drifts toward the milk and cookies station. Selecting two cookies and a cup of milk--whole, if there's an option--he settles in somewhere to people-watch and enjoy Stasya's work. Because he helped load these cookies onto the van to get here, dammit, he's going to have two.
"Cute feet," Slip croons to Charity as she draws near to the sprawl of blankets with a decent view of bar and pillowfort and all the fun going on. "Want some candy?" The hint of crookedness to the smile which punctuates the offer suggests it's not quite sugar she's offering up. Catching up with what Eerie's saying about f-words, she issues an impressed, "Ooh," round about the bit about bartering. "Very nice. Can't imagine what those cost you." Her pale-eyed gaze flits between Taylor juggling drinks and the Reptar right behind him, progress watched even as she tilts in toward the constable and murmurs, "That's the second time you've invited me to your van," with a hint of playful warning, like the third time might get them into trouble. When the fluffy sheep in wolf's feet returns with drinks, she offers up a hand to help. Well, to take some of that for herself, at least. "Thank you, cutie." With a flicker of attention toward the pillow fort, she adds, "Don't let me keep you from saying hi. But, first! Charity, Tay. Tay, Charity. She's our ambassador to the werewolves."
Jeanie gives a 'what can you do' shrug to Marek's disappointment about no fire and no pit traps. "You might be able to manage a snare or two without causing permanent property damage. Not mortal legal but..." There's a quick glance around the room. "Pretty sure half the stuff in here wouldn't be anyways. Ohhh... see if Kai had them make up a specialty cocktail! Or if not... a mojito! Mint is springy, right? And I'll hold down the fort!" She's already crouching on one the chair platform, a stack of pillows next to her and a can of silly string in the other hand. So fearsome! But as she sees a familiar face entering, Jeanie will give at least a brief warning of "Axle!" Before she's lobbing a pillow at the newly-arrived wolf-blood. "Come join the team!" The team being Zombie Werewolves judging by the sticker on her sweatshirt.
When Slip leans in, Eerie bursts out into a big, bright grin and suppresses what surely wouldn't have been an undignified giggle. That would, as stated, have been undignified. They retort: "It has shag carpeting." With Charities and Reptars and such, Eerie lifts a hand and wiggles fingers in a hello. "Ambassador. Mr. Tar. Slip, all your friends are pretty. How do you manage that."
Brent spots Slip as he devours his second cookie. He stands and walks over to the group in question. "Hi," he says, the Fairest slightly shy despite himself. He's trying, dammit, but failing. "I'm Brent Evans. I've met one or two of you?" he says, hesitantly, looking at the group again. "I'm new to town, kind of. Grew up here, spent some time elsewhere, time in Baton Rouge, then I came home." He recognizes he's babbling and abruptly shuts up. Lifting his cup, he drains the milk from it, and then seems a little more relaxed afterward. But only a little.
"Thanks!" is the chirpy cheerful reply to Eerie's stated welcome, once Taylor is settled back in. And they beam brightly for the complimentary praise in the nickname Slip sends their way. More of that easy pride that lends toward comfort and relaxation in current quarters. An IPA and a glass of sour sugary citrus and berry for Slip, and two more of the latter to split between themself and Eerie. "Wasn't sure what you'd like, so I just got you something everyone should like," they state. That easy. And they take a drink from their own glass to ensure that, yes, as unhealthy as this mix may be, it is, indeed, edible. Thus far.
Attention given to introductions, they wave with their now free hand at Charity. "Pleased to meet you, Ambassador," they greet. "I didn't think to grab you a drink. But you can have the rest of mine if you'd like." Nevermind that they've taken a sip already. They offer it up and over all the same, hoisted in hand toward the not-wolf with the amber eyes. "It's a little sour. In a good way," they promise. Then a Brent approaches and there's not another drink to offer over, but they do reply, "Hi, Brent! I'm Tay." An aside to Eerie, "She has the eye of a collector. And they've been trying to get it back from her since." As to the collection of the pretty.
"I'm pretty sure she hand-picks us," Darcy tells Eerie with a bright grin, stopping next to Charity and leaning over to give her a slight shoulder bump with a lifted brow. "Hey, you. I mean," he clears his throat, "Ambassador," with a short bow with a little hand flourish. He winks at Slip. "Slip."
Charity's toes are given a wriggle, and Slip is given that canine grin. "Deceptively quiet footwear. The better to hunt with." The offer of candy gets a slow blink, and an even slower grin. "Been a while since I have. I'm down." Amber eyes flit towards Eerie, and then the approaching Taylor, both given a flash of a grin. "Tay. Good to meet you. I'll not steal your drink, though the offer is appreciated. It'd be a shame for you to have done all that work, for no reward." Her gaze turns to Brent, and then up at his hair. "Oh my gosh, it looks so fluffy!" At least the British accent make the words sound dignified, right? The shoulder bump from Darcy is returned, and she grins crookedly. "Hello, Mister Darcy."
Fwap! Axle takes a pillow to the upper body, having only turned her head toward the sound of her name being called. Should have ducked out of instinct. Next time. The pillow isn't picked up, she just steps over it and pads on to meet up with Jeanie. "Team, eh? What're we playing?" she asks, raising a hand to rake it back through her hair.
"Hi, Tay," Brent says, smiling a bit uncertainly. Then there's a comment about his hair from Charity, and he laughs. That's full, genuine, and startled, but still amused. "I'll let you play with it if I can join you all," he says with a little less fear. His icy pale eyes are settled on everyone speaking in turn. "Nice to meet you all."
Kai, without warning, starts dancing. He just rocks out, hands flailing in the air, smooth moves with his feet. He lets it all out. Then he busts into the running man. Go, deerboy, go! The antlers of his deer onesie flop as he turns it out.
At the mention of snares, Marek perks right on up. He's looking at the rafters as Jeanie is filling his head up with all manner of glorious, looney-tunes-proud ideas. "You're a genius!" he enthuses with a bright grin. "You must go to Tulane." He winks and then bobs his head obediently. "Special or a mojito. Gotcha!" He strides purposefully towards the bar, glancing over to see Axle become the casualty of war. He pumps his fist and cheers with college jock vigor. He studies Axle a moment and then decides that she looks like she needs drinks too. He makes an order with the bartender, getting a solid twice as many drinks as three people rightly need, but... It's a party!
After spending some time reading on her phone, Mingzhu looks up and around, and then stands, heading over towards Brent. "Glad you could make it," she greets the Leechfinger with a small smile. "I see you found the cookies and milk. Best thing here, by my thinking."
Brent grins at Mingzhu. "I beelined for it," he says, amused. "I helped load and unload them from the van. They smelled so good I couldn't stand it, so I had to." He seems more at ease around the Telluric than anyone else here, so far.
Slip murmurs a cheesy, "Oh my," as she turns a low-lashed look toward Eerie, her wide smile undercutting what might otherwise sell some genuine flirtation. She straightens with a hint of pride at her collection of pretty people and, without hesitation, nods to Tay and then Darcy, letting their explanations stand. "Darcy," soft, pleased. "Nice PJs." Her IPA is set back among the other bottles and belongings, out of the way but near at hand, in favor of something sweet-tart and likely to prove far too much as soon as the acid kicks in. For now? Oh, it's magnificent! She's more than happy to sip at that now. Briefly. Before twisting to set that down and get her Blinky tin out again. Opening it, it's filled with tablets stamped with violet butterflies, and it's extended toward Charity, Darcy, Brent and Mingzhu. "You're all welcome to sit, though I won't fault anyone for negotiating petting prices. If we get too crowded, we'll just cuddle closer. Or break out more blankets." She doesn't sound fussed either way. It's only as an afterthought that she clarifies what those little 'candies' are. "Molly." Hers is due to hit sometime soon, though not wholly on its own.
That pleasant and comfortable pride continues, as Taylor is counted among the pretty and collected. The introductions get shortened further and further with every given greeting, as a fresh flood of new faces surround them. "Tay," they offer up to Darcy, after Darcy greets those that they're familiar with. "There are future drinks to hunt down, yet. This may be my first, but it will not be my last," they assure Charity cheerfully as they retract the offer, take another sip, and then offer it in gesture to Brent, in turn. Doubly sipped, but still up for the taking. If passed, it may be offered to Darcy, yet, and then Mingzhu, and any others that may yet approach the gathering. Best foot forward for the scrappy Ithaeur in the sheep onesie.
"Uhhhh... pillow fort was as far as the plan got so far. Might end up turning into King of the Castle. Or Fort rather eventually," Jeanie shrugs before she waves for Axle to come on and join. There's a grin for Marek. "Guilty as charged." She also has a LSU degree but hopefully that won't be held against her. It doesn't really seem like too many people are interested in charging Fort Pillow just yet, but she'll give a few squirts of the silly string at a few more enthusiastic dancers that pass near by just to test the range.
A quiet 'oooh' is made when Eerie realizes that Taylor has brought them a drink. "I'm so used to not buying booze anywhere I care about getting anyone in trouble, I'm not sure when the last time I had -alcohol- in public was." Eerie sips experimentally, makes a distinctly 'oh god sour' face, then takes another, deeper drink, signalling that obviously 'oh god sour' isn't -bad-. "Tay, you're my new favorite, thank you." Eerie does not, pointedly, off Charity -their- prized beverage, but instead adds to Slip's offerings of 'candy' by withdrawing from the nearby bag a sheet of perforated stamps that are -not- postage nor kids' novelties, "And a kicker if you wanna go for the full flip," they offer. "I'm Eerie, by the way. I have completely lost track of who's been introduced to who, but yes, everybody sit. There's waters and gum and we've got crackers and balloons if anyone wants something with a little less...uh, commitment." Poor Kai's innocent party.
Brent smiles at Tay, taking the drink from them as his lips twist into a grin. He waves off the molly, though doesn't seem offended by it. However, he eyes the LSD thoughtfully for a moment before waving that off, too. Settling in next to Charity, if given leave, he forces his shoulders to relax some. Awkward leucistic man is awkward. He drinks again and his fangs actually hit the rim of the cup. Sigh. He doesn't shrink into himself though, despite the want for it. "It's nice to meet you, Eerie. I won't remember anyone at all's name. Unless I fuck someone. That might happen." What do you expect with that Springlike mantle?
"I'd be terribly disappointed if you were a one-drink wolf, Tay," Charity muses. "It'd be terrible for any business reationship we might hope to have." Amusement in those foxy eyes, the look only growing when Brent laughs. "Sounds like a deal to me." No objection at all, as the not-a-vamp settles down. She reaches out, and takes one of those tablets, before she flops down on the ground without preamble. It lets her boop the nose of Reptar.
There are familiar faces here, known to Axle, even if she doesn't know all the names to go with the faces. Milling near Fort Zombies, the long-fingered wolf-blood can't seem to stop fidgeting with her fingers, which occasionally involves adjusting the out-of-place bulge in the front of the boxer briefs she wears. Is it buzzing? It sounds like it, on occasion. The telltale sound of a phone set to vibrate. "Capture the flag?" she suggests. Whenever Marek returns, she tells him, "If you're who I think you are, I'm a friend of Fawn's."
Right! Introductions. As resident Collector of Pretty People, Slip really should help out with names, that thought coming a bit slowly. "Taaaaay," is drawn out with a nod toward the adorable wolf-footed lamb. "Eerie," is an echo of the name they offer themself. Then, "Charity, Darcy, Brent, Mingzhu. Pretty sure I saw an Ian out there somewhere?" But she's distracted watching Kai dance, a quiet giggle approving of the party planner suddenly getting down. Her own head begins to bob, like she's feeling something. But that might just be the bass and a room full of feelings. Life's damned good for this spring over here.
Darcy holds up his own drink for Taylor to see. He's good. He preens a little when Charity calls him Mr. Darcy, but then he looks between her and Slip and his brow furrows. No, don't worry, he's just confused about which one is _Elizabeth_. When Slip offers him some drugs, he shrugs and reaches over, taking one. He drops down --slowly, because drink-- and snaps his teeth at Charity booping his nose. He settles next to the fox and the darkling, taking another drink and waving at the others a little right before the tablet goes in.
"Huh. That's a cute dinosaur," Brent says of Reptar. "I think that's from... What's that children's show?" He shrugs. "Adorable, regardless." He smiles at Charity. "Once I finish my drink, you are welcome to play with my hair."
"Rugrats," Mingzhu supplies. What? She was a child of the right age. "And you are so very much like Tommy," she adds with a smile for Brent, then nods to Darcy as introductions are made. "Ian is out there, but he's had to take a phonecall. Anyone know who the guy he brought with him is?" she wonders aloud.
"I've been in that trouble before," Taylor tells Eerie. They're unconcerned. And they perk up at being named as a favorite - well, as much as that body language can be read in the oversized pajamas. "The trick is to use the glass as a projectile before you run, if you think someone's going to bust you." Sage wisdom from someone who indulged long before their ID named them a legal imbibe-r. And they nod some respect to go with their earlier greeting, when Brent sees fit to take the drink that's handed over. "It's a good-sour," they warn. Attention back to Charity to retort, "I'm not sure the number of drinks this wolf is. I always seem to forget to count, later on - or to forget that I counted." A sly smile with that delivery, and the promise of future drinks combined in with business. They're letting their own dose hit, as slow as it may be to effect them. And they wave again, indicating self when Slip names them, an energy that seems parallel to the way Slip extends their name just so, and they let their grey gaze track each individual as they're named. "Whatcha got?" they ask after the drink Darcy displays. Gaze inspecting the shade of orange in the glass. Maybe it's curiosity. Or maybe it's a notion of mooching, with drinks given out. A shameless transition.
As the tray of drinks is loaded up, there are a couple of the bunny hop martinis, a couple mojitos, a couple slo comfortable screws, and a bottle of wine with some wine glasses. Marek hefts the tray all waiter style, smiling brightly as he takes his haul back to Axle and Jeanie. He presents his offering, smiling at Axle. His nostrils flare and he nods. "Yeah! I recognize your scent." He smiles a little brighter and then giggles quick before he offers, "I brought drinks!" For his part, he snatches up a slo comfortable screw and sips at it, before he offers a fist to bump to Axle. "I'm Marek, like, official like." His eyes keep flitting down to the... buzzing, his lips pursing for a moment before he blushes a bit and glances over at the other group.
"I'll be patient," Charity assures Brent. Even if she's eyeing his hair with twitchy fingers. The not-a-wolf sticks the tab in her mouth, and then settles in a bit more with crossed legs. "The best kind of drink-counting is the forgotten type," she says with a sure nod. Snapping teeth back at Darcy, before resting her head against his shoulder. "Shame my wolves couldn't make it - they're very interested in meeting others like me. And others like them, of course." Pout. Another side-eye towards Brent. Waiting...waiting.
Just as suddenly as he started dancing, Kai stops. He flips his floppy antlers back, and with as much dignity as he can muster, he makes his way toward the stage. Silly string hangs off of him, because he got too close to the pillow fortress, and that's what he gets. He turns on the microphone, and there's a spotlight on him. The music quiets down (though it doesn't stop entirely). "Hello, friends," Kai says, "welcome to the Spring 2020 bash, where if you're here, you're invited!" He waves out into the darkness. He's quiet for a moment before he's prompted by some inner voice to speak again. "We're going to begin the first three of tonight's ten raffle prizes, so take out your raffle tickets." An assistant hands him a jar, and he reaches into it, pawing around for a number to draw out. He reads out the number, and should Darcy check his tickets: he's the winner! "Anyone with that number out there?" Kai says, "You've won a $50 gift certificate for Thibeaux's in the French Quarter!"
Is Slip the least little concerned about potentially underaged company enjoying alcohol in her company? Nope. Nah. She's not on duty. Besides, that's no worse than her free and friendly distribution of controlled substances. Once everyone's taken what they want from her tin, she closes Blinky back up and tucks the red ghost away so that she can take up her drink again. And maybe, along the way, give Reptar-Darcy a little approving nuzzle, untroubled by the Charity tilting in on his other side. "Are they averse to pajamas? Parties? People?" she asks the ambassador of the absentee wolves. Pale eyes track back toward Taylor, watching them for a second or two before Kai's announcements distract, drawing focus toward the party planner. She doesn't bother to check her tickets, content to sip her drink and bob her head to the music.
"Marek, Axle, Axle, Marek," Jeanie will help with introductions once he returns back with all the drinks and her eyes widen at the variety but it's clearly the bunny hop that's calling her name. "Mmmm. Thanks! Pineapply and coconut!" And that buzzing can't be ignored forever, so after a few sips of her drink she'll raise an eyebrow at Axle and glance down at the vibrating briefs. "I think somebody's trying to send you a message?" The random silly string assault is abandoned briefly as she drops the can in order to give a one handed clap attempt for the winner of the drawing. She certainly wasn't going to be abandoning the new found drink. "Dang, they sure are giving out a ton of projects. Oh, and Axle... I think Marek was talking about making some traps earlier. That something you could help with?"
Darcy tips his head over to bump its side on the top of Charity's. "I'm pretty sure there'll be time and opportunity for that, no worries." He looks at his drink and then informs Taylor it is a, "Screwdriver. Vodka, orange juice. This one is a little more screw than driver." Because werewolves need it _harsh_ if they're gonna catch a buzz. His free hand swings up just to scritch the nuzzling Slip's in the back of her neck, and then Kai is asking about a number and Darcy says, "Hey," laid back, not excitable but yes pleased: "That's me." He's gonna go get that later! "I never win things." Yeah, right.
"I like werewolves," Eerie announces, somewhat unprompted. "You -almost- never get hired to hunt down a werewolf. The only time anyone ever did pay me to hunt one down, I found his obit the next day and his ghost said some other wolves had already killed him for the same reason I had, easiest payday I've ever gotten. Anyone significant group of supernatural creatures who almost never get anyone paying to hunt them and kill them is probably okay kinds of folks, I imagine." Eerie pours back the rest of their drink and lays all the way back to rest their head on their bag. "Not had -one- single sleepless night because of a werewolf, or a single stakeout. Good folks. Or clean up after themselves real well. Either or."
Brent blinks over at Mingzhu. "I am?" he asks, confused. "Is this a cultural phenomenon I need to touch base on?" His eyes move to Taylor, lingering on them a moment, before he looks to Charity. "If you'd rather now," he says, "I'll down this and get roaring drunk really fast." He grins crookedly. Then he does that, and gestures--"I can put my head in your lap if you'd like; if that's too personal, I'll just, I dunno. Sit here." He grins again. "I've never met a werewolf... before tonight." He grins at Darcy then.
"It's always nice to be reminded of one's odors," Axle teases Marek. She eyes the tray of drinks, but doesn't take anything as yet. She does, however, return the fist bump. "Good to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you from Fawn. Don't worry, she speaks highly of you," she adds with a flash of white teeth. Glancing at Jeanie, the grin quirks up higher on one side. "It's probably just Emmet. He's mad that he couldn't come tonight so he's trying to annoy me."
Axle also adds, "I s'pose I could do traps. That's more Wayfarer's thing than mine, though."
'My wolves' tags curiosity, and Taylor tilts their head (and the sheep-face hood with it) at that. Plenty of wolves to meet, here and in the future, apparently. They express curiosity toward hearing the answer to Slip's question, on them. "Agreed. Especially when I'm not paying the tab." On best kind of drink counting. A met glance, shared with Slip. The same happy energy, but with a backing of warmth to the smile as it returns from the sly side. They look away when Slip does. A pause as they look up to the source of a voice on a microphone without actually getting to their feet. They fill the silence that follows 'invited' with a help, praticipatory cheer. And some clapping now that their hands are free. A performer knows to help the spotlight out. "I respect your choice of unbalance," they tell Darcy for the choice in drink, and a cheer up toward Kai when Darcy states the win is theirs. "We have the winner here!" they announce. Pointing doubly to the winning wolf. Kind supporting kind. An aside to Eerie in that, "That sounds like something someone should lift a glass to. 'To not needing to hunt the wolves'." It arrives between overhead claps for the winner.
"Do I mean Tommy? No, I mean Chuckie. And yes, you do," Mingzhu tells Brent with a small smile, turning to clap as Darcy is called up to claim his very nice prize.
Charity, likewise, seems completely fine with the fact that there's a Slip nuzzling up against Darcy. "No for my sister. She loves a good party, and people. Lucas, though. Well. He's." She works a few words around in her mouth, before deciding on, "Prickly. I imagine he'd be standing over there," a gesture towards the far corner, "Glowering. His trust level is about negative five billion." She glances over to Eerie at their words, lifting a brow but laughing a moment later. "I'll not confirm nor deny the ability to clean up our own messes." If she was going to add more, she's distracted by Brent's offer. "Lap would be wonderful, lovely." She pats her bare thigh, invitingly. "I grew up with werewolves. Before, you know." Taken. "At least I can still run with them, innit."
"That's cool," Brent says to Charity as he gets comfy, head pillowed on her lap. He smiles, contented. "I would like to meet a werewolf on this side of the Thorns and. You know. make friends." He glances to Taylor then, having forgotten to mention him above--oops--before looking at Darcy again. "I wonder what it's like to be one. I know what it's like to be what one of Them thinks is a vampire." He shudders lightly. "But... I dunno." He shrugs and closes his eyes as the buzz hits, relaxing fully on Charity's thigh. His hair is as soft as it looks.
Darcy just kind of stares at Eerie for a long moment and then takes a drink of his screwdriver. One can almost see him taking a mental note. "Thanks," he tells Taylor, for their helpful calling out of his winning. He holds his drink up and then takes a long gulp to celebrate. He may not be quite so used to everyone who isn't People know he _is_. But if nothing else, he seems to get comfortable fast. "Werewolves are just people. Avoid full moons." Preach the Lie, brother.
The winner is pointed out to Kai, which is good because otherwise he just keeps looking, and Kai says, "Oh! Yay! Just pick up your prize before you leave." The cheer has cheered him up considerably, not that he wasn't cheerful to begin with, and honestly, the spotlight is a little redundant since he glows. The humans can't see him glow, though, so fair is fair. He reaches into the jar again and says, "Our next winner is..." The number he calls out is Jeanie's. "And you've won a $50 gift card for Cafe du Monde. Congratulations!"
Oh, that's nice. Slip's eyes roll back at the scritching, the rest of the world just melting away for a couple of contented seconds. Until winnings are announced, distracting from the happy just a teensy bit. Her head tips sideways to watch Eerie as they talk about the limited intersection of werewolves and their work. "I like mine." An airy sort of possessiveness, no firm claim to any of them, despite the two with whom she's currently consorting. She reaches her empty hand toward Taylor, an offering, decidedly intentional. The way her bent knee bumps the sprawled Eerie's leg beside her, though, might be accidental. Hard to know for sure. It may well be a happy little web of interconnectivity she's creating. Or just a crowded spread of blankets. "We should play a game." Just as no committal as her earlier words, a passing thought that accompanies the surrender of her empty glass.
Marek laughs and teases Axle with, "How about your divine, inspiring scents?" He pauses a moment and then more seriously observes, "Reminds me of my cousin kinda." He smiles as the vibration is revealed to be something more benign than whatever happened to go through his blond little head. His brow creases then a little at the name Emmet, searching his memory to see if he recognizes that name at all. Maybe another swallow of booze will help. Nope. He takes the other glass and starts on that one, the first already gone. He starts to say something about the traps, but is distracted by the prize award, taking a moment to clap and cheer for the winner enthusiastically. Then, he flops onto some of the piled pillows and stretches out. Life if good.
Jeanie is one of those that can't actually see the glowing, but she can see that her number is the one that has just been called. "Sweet! If we are victorious and survive the night, guess breakfast is on me!" All the beignets! They'll need them. She ahs as the source of the buzzing is revealed. "That sounds just plain petty. Would think he could find something else to do with his time..." But she shrugs seeing as she hasn't actually met Emmet so no idea what he might actually do. "I would have thought of Way first, but haven't actually seen him. We could try laying a trap FOR Way with Pizza."
"I mean, as the sort of human who most people would definitely imagine has a very different internal life than most, uh. I very much believe 'werewolves are just people'. We'd all have been burned at the stake a disturbingly short amount of time ago." It's been long enough since that little pill that had a lot more than sugar in it that a bump of knee against knee is very noticeable, and prompts a full-body streeeeetch from Eerie, settling in with a bit of calf-against-calf contact that puts them on the edge of the connected pile of cuddle, sort of a 'hey, sure' without like, presumptively crawling into the pile because Slip bumped a knee against their knee. "People just get freaked out at the idea of being possibly being food. I mean, it's why there are no -wolves- in most places anymore. And why alligators had a scary dip there for awhile before they bounced back."
Brent looks at Darcy a little skeptically, but says nothing. He relaxes, and considers. "Maybe I do want a party favor. I trust Mingzhu not to mock me too much as she keeps me from running from the room buck-naked. After getting incriminating photos." He grins at the Telluric, amusement on his face. Then he nods slowly at Eerie. "I guess so."
Once Brent's head is in her lap, Charity starts to play with his hair. Toying with those soft, white lengths with a quiet fascination. So soft. Yes, very nice. When he shudders, she gives his shoulder a little squeeze, support. "They didn't know what a werewolf was, really. I think that I was lucky, there. It would have been the worst of us, I'm sure." She reaches into her goodie bag to get her water bottle, sipping from it slowly. "I mean. Plenty of cannibals out there, too. We don't corner the market on people-eating."
"Humans complain hippos kill too many people per year and then they go and walk into the poor thing's living room to steal its food, tsch," Darcy says with a smirk. He finishes his drink and sets the glass aside, keeping one hand on the back of Slip's neck, because who is he to stop doing something she clearly likes. "What sort of game?" he asks her.
Taylor's curiosity toward Charity remains on the quiet side, catching snippets about unmet wolves with curiosity - and the experience of growing up among them. And following up Darcy's assurances to Brent about Werewolves, as people. "But, you know, epecially cool. Good friends to have." No contradiction to the lie, but a clear upsell of their own compatability toward friendship as Charity and Eerie muse on the subject. As slippers and onesie imply, a wolf in sheep's clothing. The claim that leaves Slip's lips prior to an offered hand takes their attention back, and they reach for that hand in kind; and they scoot and shuffle just a little closer to make the holding of it that much easier. It's a gesture they'll keep to for as long as Slip will hold it. Maybe it gives a little firmness to the statement - or a wish in that direction. "Game sounds fun!" they vote. Before the terms or summary has been set.
"And our last draw for now," Kai says, and he reaches into the jar again. He takes out a number, and he reads it. The winner is Slip! He reads the number again, then beckons his assistant to bring out the prize to show off. It's a navy blue unisex, Turkish cotton bathrobe with a hood. Very luxuriously, and very comfy. "If you're our lucky winner, this Turkish cotton robe is all yours. Perfect for those sleepover parties, you know." He gives the robe a cuddle, then kind of forgets to stop until the assitant diverts his attention away from the robe and back to the microphone. "Um, right! So I'll be back in an hour for our next round of prizes. Everyone have a good time!"
"Yeah. Or stank-ass," Axle replies to Marek with a lift of those seriously thick eye brows of hers. "That'd be a good bait," she interjects to Jeanie, on the subject of Way and a pizza-trap. "Nice, congrats," she says, when the next raffle winner's number is called and it's her friend's number. "Excuse me a sec. I'm gonna go get me a soda pop," she says, as much to have something to hold in her hands to fidget with as to have a drink.
Offering a hand down to help pull Slip to her feet as she is announced as the winner of that swanky bathrobe, Mingzhu smiles at the Darkling. "Congrats," she voices, then smiles at Brent. "That is a _lot_ of trust you're putting in me. We'll see if it is well founded. I'm certainly up for a game."
Closing his eyes, Brent murmurs, "I might fall asleep here. But if I do, play around me and wake me up for the orgy." He grins in the direction Mingzhu's voice is coming from, before sticking his tongue out a little. It's shockingly pink compared to the paleness of his skin. "Charity, if you stop I might cry. That feels amazing," he says to Charity, his attention returning to her.
One of Slip's battish ears pivots toward Brent when she catches tht call for a 'party favor' from the pale guy with the fluffy hair. She tilts a little to look past Darcy to where Brent's settled in against Charity and asks, "Touchy-happy, trippy-dreamy or both?" A spring courtier who isn't enabling is... well, a perfectly valid but entirely different sort of spring than she is. When she sinks back, it's with more tilting toward Darcy and that magnificent scritching as her fuzzy-socked foot idly fusses with Eerie's, a distracted game of footsy to mark approval for that stretch that claimed a little bit more. "I don't mind a bit of nibbling," may well be the understatement of the evening, but it seems a sound downplay when the alternative is being actually eaten. There might be a tug of Taylor's hand toward her mouth for a demonstrative nip... but a number she's already memorized is called and her empty hand shoots up reflexively. That's her! "Ooh!" When Mingzhu offers that assistance, she... abandons all that lovely touching to accept, drawing up awfully close to the moon once she's upright, murmuring a soft, "Thank you." And then it's off to claim her bathroom. Game and snuggling will have to wait just a moment!
Marek idly listens to the various conversations, drifting from the sound of one voice to the next without paying too much attention to content. His eyes flit from one source of sound to the next until he hears Jeanie exclaim that she's won. He cheers her on, thinking food is almost always the best of prizes. After she reclaims her seat, he settles back down and just watches until he can cheer Slip on for winning the cool bathrobe!
When Slip rises to go claim her prize, Darcy laughs a bit and then leans back to settle in further, switching hands so that now it's his other hand, on Charity's neck, doing the scritching. Maybe he just has restless hands, who knows! He watches Slip go. Sharp, clear eyes slide over the rest of the party, taking note of who isn't in the group and who is. Ever watchful, the Elodoth. "So. Taylor." He glances at the other wolf. "You got a crew?" Because saying 'Pack' is still not in him around people he doesn't know.
"Right?" Jeanie could totally see her pizza-trap idea working even if she'd have no idea how to actually craft said trap. "But excuse me... I think I need to run to the ladies room." And with that, she'll slip away for the moment. Eventually she'll come back to help valiantly defend Fort Zombie-Wolf but more from behind the rest. And hopefully she won't end the night too inebriated to remember to grab both her goody bag and gift card on the way out.
Taylor hadn't caught Slip's ticket number, or that the prize is for them, but they cheer on the reading of the prize anyhow. When they do notice that Slip is being helped to their feet, they turn their attention to Mingzhu at the other end of the hand-in-hand chain. "Fancy PJs," they review with respect and slight awe for the shine of the silk. "I'm Tay," they offer, if they'd missed the Lost in the initial round of introductions. A grin at a preference for nibbling over cannibalism from Slip. Playing along as their hand nears Slip's teeth, and then lifted up, then parting. Their hand descending back to them as they watch Slip go. An additional cheer, now that they know the prize's target. They settle back. Palms on the floor behind them as they stretch out, some.
Only brought back from this observation for the question from Darcy. Met with blinking, first, for the internal inspection of where they'd left off in the Q and A that was wielded oppositely, previous. Caught up, they smile and shake their head - and there's a touch of sadness to the eyes above said smile. And maybe a little apologetic for the thoughtful delay. Maybe at the penultimate grouping of minutes before they'll start to actually feel the drug's effect. "Nope," they announce. "Been on the road a lot. For awhile. Only really settled once since I started. Until now," they admit. "You?"
Kai beams as Slip comes up to claim her prize. "Hello!" he says. "I've met you, you're Slip!" He drapes the robe around her shoulders as though she were royalty. Then he claps for her. The prize delivered, he hops off the stage and the music starts back up. Someone in a Winnie the Poo onesie passes in front of him, and he stops, eyes going wide. "BEAR!" he bellows, and he tries to do... something. For those who can sense glamour, a puff of it expels from him, and he turns to, uh, step? A little hop first. A hop and a step. Absolutely nothing happens. The person in the onesie just shakes their head and walks away from Kai like he's some kind of weirdo.
Kai stands there looking confused. Then he pumps his fists in the air and says, "I AM IN THE REAL WORLD!"
"Yeah, game--" And then Slip's winning something, and this provokes Eerie to finally realize there's stuff going on with a raffle? Oh, a robe. Clap clap clap. This has totally disrupted the entire groove of stretching and relaxing that the Constable was getting into, and they sit up abruptly and look around as if to remind themself of everyone who's in the little circle of folks, try to remember names, and ask, "Nobody asked me anything, right? I think I zoned out and I have no idea if it was like, five minutes or fifty--" Then Kai is loudly announcing things. Eerie wonders aloud, "I wonder if this is his first trip. Does he know he's tripping? I hope he's having a good time."
"I'd hate for someone so pretty to cry," Charity muses. And, so, she keeps on playing with Brent's hair. Fingers working in that white fluffyness, a low laugh coming. "I'll make sure you don't sleep through any fornicating festivities." But then, then it's her neck being scritched, and she lets out a rumble of pleasure that's very canine indeed. Eyes half lidding, ears settling into a position that screams -yes this is good, yes-. At least her foot isn't thumping against the floor. Yet. She grins, crooked and warm. "I miss having a proper crew," is bemoaned, despite that smile. Her eyes open fully, and she looks up to Kai. Catching him fully, now, and laughing. "He seems to be enjoying himself, yeah."
Axle heads to fetch herself a tumbler full of soda pop, before she returns to where she left Jeanie -- only to find she has gone missing. It's just about that time Kai has made his declaration, her head cocking as she looks in that direction, eyes squinting. "Are these parties always like this? I should have dropped acid before I came, I think," she tells Marek, before sipping from the glass of fizzy goodness.
"Not yet, no," Darcy tells Taylor with a shake of his head. He glances over at Charity's reaction to the scritching and smiles, keeping it up. It's like when you scritch a dog and they _do_ thump their leg, just makes you wanna do it more.
Brent melts into Charity's lap and makes a low, happy "mrrrrr" in the back of his throat, eyelashes fluttering despite not opening. "Oh Charity, my dear, I could fall in love with you for this," he says, hyperbolic of course, but amused. The near leg thumping has him opening one eye but not moving--hopefully it's the leg his neck isn't draped over at the moment.
"Tay. Nice to meet you, and thanks - they're my favourite," Mingzhu murmurs, extending a hand toward the wolf, then considering if that's a good idea given people are starting to feel the effects of their various recreational drugs. Then, post-shake-or-not-shake, she glances around and sees a familiar face, a small smile touching her expression. She heads towards Lambert.
"And you're Kai," Slip tells the deer as she claims that magnificently soft robe, slipping her arms into the appropriate holes and giving it as dramatic a swish as she can muster. She might have some more anchoring insights for the MC, but Kai's off to go chase hunnypots. When she follows back away from the center of attetion, she stops, briefly, by the pillow fort to tell Axle, "We have acid. And molly. And water and gum and get-to-know-you games. If you're all interested." Yeah, her eyes are dilated, pale green halos around broad black pupils. With another swish of her new robe, she's off, back to the blankets, to the pile of beautiful people she abandoned to claim her winnings. When she settles back in, she sits cross-legged, facing most everybody else, near Eerie's legs on one side, her knee to Darcy's knee on the other, a warm smile turned toward Taylor. And then everybody else. This is nice. "So. Truth or dare? Never have I ever?" She looks around and declares, "A kiss to whoever kicks us off."
Lambert has been busy with the food preparations area. He has a food handcart - two of them, and is pushing one and dragging the other. The man, while on the rolly polly side, is not that tall, and the food towers _over_ him. For the initiated, they may spot the following: Taramasalata, a pungent fish roe dip of a starchy base of soaked breadcrumbs with added lemon juice and olive oil. For the vegetarians, choriatiki with a foundation of sliced five-way tomatoes, three types of onions delicately braised, oregano...vegetarian pita stuffed with foraged chantrelles and wild forest herbs. Fava prepared with top shelf olive oil and preserved lemons. Bite-sized chicken keftedes, moschari kokkinisto served in pastries so they can be held in the hand, koulouria - greek sesame pretzels. Gellied ouzo in oak moss. Chicken liver parfait on truffle toasts. Artichokes poached in liquorice. Jellied meats served on slices of thin lime. Olive oiled crackers -
For those who do not know greek food, they definitely spot Lambert. Who is in a grey silk pyjama version of a sleeveless flight suit. Many guys would feel nervous about wearing something that sheer in public, but apparently Lambert has no shame. He does, however, have an apron on - thank your lucky stars. Can't spoil the silk with all that food.
Lambert is also apparently going to run into Mingzhu along the way, because he's angled towards her, though he probably can't see over the food.
Charity waggles fingers towards Mingzhu, her other hand staying busy with the hairplay. "Just remember, I like long walks under the moonlight, good booze, and a thick steak," she murmurs down to the man. "And other things." Her brows waggle. Luckily for Brent, it's not the leg his head rests on that's near-thumping. That would just be impolite. Her head rolls forward, giving Darcy more neck to scritch. "Best party I've been to on these shores."
"Mine are my favorite too - but they're the only ones here that I've worn," Taylor answers Mingzhu, and announces their own bias in turn. They take the offered hand with their own - delicate, not a strong grip, but certainly an overzealous and energized shaker to make up for it. The additional announcement doesn't get immediate cheers from them, as they release Mingzhu's hand and remain seated, and as they catch the latest announcement from the not-Hendrix in Kai. Brows furrow into slight concern, but they clap politely all the same. "We should make sure he has some water," they note, to Eerie. "And that he doesn't wander out." Where? Anywhere but here, really. "And that he gets to hear some good EDM while he's up." Also important. Somewhere within these responses, they nod in kind at Darcy, more solemnly than the usual energy of their gestures tonight, for the likewise crew-less. Then Slip returns from the accepting of the gift, and a warm smile is paid back in turn. Opportunistic to a point, they start, looking to Eerie, "Truth, or dare?" They don't have a drink to properly do 'Never have I ever'.
"Truth or dare," Brent declares, staring upward but beaten to the punch by Taylor. "And I want something dreamy for drugs, please," he adds to Slip. "I believe that's acid?"
Kai takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and makes his way to the bar to order a bunny hop martini. "I shouldn't indulge," he tells the bartender, "but one little drink won't hurt anything. I have to stay sharp for the party." He nods solemnly. Then he calls to Lambert, "Watch out!" He still has silly string hanging off his fake antler. But he seems to be happy, so.
"Need a bottle for Never Have I Ever," Eerie agrees with Taylor. And with that, Eerie peers off -hard- at the bar, concentrating with intense effort for someone being lazy and avoiding getting up. Thank god this is the CPC where magic is absolutely not uncommon, because that intense peering sends a bottle of vodka careening in a wobbly flight plan slowly across the room, awkwardly caught in both hands by the Constable when it arrives. They offer the bottle to Slip, and hunt up a tab of acid for Brent, holding it out. Black and purple swirls are the pattern, behind a black spade, like the card suit. "Whippets and pot gummies if you want them, too. I figured it'd be rude to assume it was okay to smoke in a fancy place like this."
"I'm down for Truth or Dare," Darcy says with a laugh, dropping his hand on Slip's knee and giving it a squeeze.
Belatedly, Eerie realizes Taylor was actually -asking- Truth or Dare, and says, "Uh. Uh. Fuck, dare?"
Brent takes the tab and places it in his mouth appropriately. "Thank you much," he says. "I don't know what whippets do. But a little high from an edible wouldn't go awry." Already mixing his drugs, damn. And then he glances to Eerie admiringly. "Jumpin' in the deep end."
"Lambert," Mingzhu calls out quietly to the satyr behind the food counter. "Is that you behind that tower of delights?" While she's here, she makes up a few plates with an assortment of just about everything, to take back to the folks she was with a few moments ago, the ones playing Truth or Dare while off their respective heads on various drugs and alcohol.
"Acid," Slip confirms firmly to Brent, though it's Eerie she looks to. That's their speciality. And, well, the whole deep concentation thing is interesting. The bottle, too, even if that seems to appear from nowhere, its unsteady flight path missed while she was focusing on the constable's expression. And absently settling her hand atop Darcy's, a reflex to reciprocate the contact, to trace fingertips over knuckles. She accepts the vodka with a quiet, "Hee!" and draws it in close, another vice or her collection, but the game's already been called, Taylor's prompt question to Eerie earning them a wide, damned near wolfish grin. Much as a pale shadow like her can manage. "Whenever you wanna claim your prize, pup..."
One of Lambert's elfin ears twitches as he hears his name called by Kai, and he sticks his head up and stares at the other changeling for a moment. His brown cheeks are already a little red - surely no one expects him to cook without trying the retsina! "Hello Kai!" he calls out "How are you?" He pauses "Very sexy antlers?" he tries out. Some men need a little help in the department, and mockery is never kind. Lambert turns back, when he hears his name from the side and sticks his head up, surprised that anyone but Kai knows him here "Mingzhu!" he says, startled "What are you doing in New Orleans! Hello! Yes! I haven't seen...anyone from New York in ages!"
Taylor may get a little distracted when Eerie gets around to answering the question to start the game. First, by the bottle of vodka that flies across the room. Caught - however awkwardly - by the Constable when it arrives. "So fucking cool," they breath. However little grace may be in the execution, it's a power that inspires awe in the fetching of drinks sans rising. And additional, the distraction of a prize to claim. Off the palms of their hands, leaning forward, to crawl the short distance between them on hands and knees. A challenging smile when they're nearly nose to nose with Slip. A tease, "I think it's you who is supposed to give me the kiss."
But they do eventually circle back around to it, did hear that 'dare' was what ended up being stated after some deliberation. They scrunch up their nose in thought, still hovering there, facing Slip up close as they tilt their head toward Eerie, having not been prepared for this option so early on. "This is never the first option," they excuse, and justify. "I dare you to-" they start, stretching out the vowels, buying themselves time until the idea arrives as a eureka moment. And not a brilliant eureka at that. Clearly stealing from the moment, when they say, "Give a kiss to your latest present crush. Knuckles, cheek, or lips. Wherever they agree to, if they agree." There are outs, paths of consent, the party-wolf maintains good practices in their hedonism. And they may have a sense of who the target will be.
"Omens," is Mingzhu's perhaps predictable reply to Lambert. Why else would she have left New York? "We should catch up some time when we're not at a party full of people who are high and-or drunk," she suggests, before taking the four plates she's made up back to the group, handing them out to whoever has hands free. There is a little bit of everything the buffet had to offer.
Kai touches the plush antlers on his deer onesie, and he smiles. "Thank you," he tells Lambert, duly encouraged. That's right, he //is// a sexy deerboy. He takes a sip of his bunny hop martini and smiles. Mmm, sweet. He meanders over to the buffet and asks, "Do you need any help? Ooh, are those chanterelles?" He gets waylaid in his offer to help Lambert by eating his food, grazing down the line of vegetarian options.
The floating bottle of vodka gets Charity's attention for a moment. But, for the most part, the not-a-wolf is in bliss with the drugs starting to work through her system, and the touch from the men on either side of her. The circle is given one of those dopey grins, as she watches the start of the game.
Eerie huffs out a long breath of air. "Crushes are weird. What even are crushes. Do most people just have crushes all the time?" The Constable adjusts to sit up a bit straighter, reaches up to run hands through their hair, and says to Slip, "You seemed ready to kiss anybody here, you want a kiss? And where?"
Brent takes a plate from Mingzhu and sets it on his belly. "You star, you," he says of Mingzhu admiringly, before picking up some baklava. He digs in and watches Eerie and slip with some interest, as phyllo dough and filling coat his fingers.
"Smooth," Darcy tells Eerie with a chuckle. He shuts his eyes tight and then licks his teeth, turning his head to press his face against Charity's shoulder for a moment before looking back at the others with a smile, waiting to see how it plays out.
"Ah, yes, well, should you ever want a meal - nothing impled there - I think I owe you one for some financial advice," Lambert says to Mingzhu "I would really like to speak to you - if you could introduce me to people here, I'd be grateful. I know very few people, erm. Had to leave New York in a dreadful hurry about five months ago. It was over such a mild misunderst..." A vodka bottle floats overhead. Lambert stares. After a moment he says to Mingzhu "I may have underestimated the joys of New Orleans, it seems. But it's pleasant to see perfection in greyscale once more." And then he says to Kai "You should probably eat at the same time as drinking. Can you hand things out? And yes, they're the ones you helped me find the other day. And this is edible wild fern, and this -" he waggles fingers at Brent, pleased to see people enjoying his food.
Slip concedes without hesitation, without any time for defiance to rise up and get in the way of fun. Who needs that when Taylor's right here, so close and goading her? They barely get a chance to finish their thought before her lips are firm against theirs, all raspberry-sour still, lifted by her mantle and deepened by the decadence of her perfume. That fairly quick kiss concludes with a nip at their lower lip, maybe a teensy tiny reprimand for that taunt. Should Tay stay close enough, she'll nip at their cheek, too. Because she can. The dare posed to Eerie has her pale-green gaze drifting thattaway, the musing on crushes answered airily with, "I've got a crush on you," though it sounds like a question. Like she's asking Eerie to confirm her own interest. Vodka surrendered to the space between her legs--because she's not giving up touching Darcy's hand--she tips her head to the side and taps a finger to the spot where neck and shoulder meet, murmuring, "Here," so very approvingly.
There's food on Brent's belly, and so Charity helps herself to it, reaching over and leaning over him with her free hand to take up one of the pieces of stuffed pita. Devouring it, before she leans into Darcy's face-pressing. Resting her chin atop his head, nuzzling his hair with her cheek, and letting out a content sigh. Watchful eyes following those in the circle, and outside of it.
Lips met, crushed, taken, and pulled before Taylor can do much more than follow that tug with their own mouth and with their shoulders as they lean forward. A little gasp for the nip, an intendation of teeth against a pouty bottom lip. Shared tastes of sour raspberry, citrus, and sickly sweet quantities of sugar. Gaze half-hooded when they return to themselves and to bliss. The dampness in the nip of their cheek replied to by a nuzzle of their pierced nose against the opposite of Slip's. "I mostly have crushes on non-people between places. Dead poets. Fictional people. But whenever I'm in a place, I have a crush. At least one," Taylor answers, like they're speaking truth and not subjective feeling. A smile broadens when they catch where Eerie directs their inquiries. Their notion of who it would be, entirely confirmed. And there's a smug quality to that proud and teasing smile before Slip's face, as the stated crush is stated mutual, and they lean back, out of the way, and sit. This time, settling on the heels of their wolf slippers, remaining on their knee as they snort at the phrasing that Eerie goes with. "I also dare you to share your Jedi-vodka," they decide, as they act is being followed through with.
Kai stuffs another mushroom in his face, then tells Lambert, "I can hand things out after I do the next round of prizes. I'm doing three, four, three, and this is the big round." He leans in and confides (clearly loud enough for Mingzhu to hear), "The walls keep melting and the lights are, like, cycling through colors in code. I've almost cracked it, but I think they're telling me we need more canapes."
That is -not- mouth, cheek, or knuckles, but Eerie presumes it's in the spirit of Taylor's dare. They roll over onto knees and one hand, shrugging out of their silk robe as they go so they're just in the v-neck tanktop as they slide in close to Slip, pressing in chest to chest to bury their face in against Slip's neck where she's indicated. It is not a short peck, but instead Eerie's face stays buried for a very long few moments, long enough for them to bury a hand in Slip's hair, fingers curling.
Ian deals with his phonecall business near the wall with an irritated, "Just handle it. I don't want it. I'm supposed to be having /fun/ tonight, butt-face." A pause, then, "Love you too. Ass." He hangs up, shoves the phone into his pocket, and lifts his horned head to stare around at... "Huh." That's the last time he lets his brother suck him into an argument when he could be staring at the real world. "What..." Yup, Kai's lost control completely. Ian's grinning now, though. What a time to return his attention to where he is.
Brent sucks delicately on his fingers as he watches Slip and Eerie, grinning. "I feel like a voyeur," he says, approvingly. He grins at Taylor and gives a now-clean thumbs-up at them. "Nicely done." Then he grins and looks up at Charity, offering the index finger of his hand--covered in honey, nut filling, and phyllo dough. The grin turns into an innocent smile. "Taste?"
For obvious reasons, he hasn't noticed Lambert!
"Songs," Slip dreamily contributes to Taylor's list of abstract crushes, though whether that's her own frequent target or one she suspects of them is for somebody else to figure out. It's about all she has to offer before all of her attention is absorbed by Eerie's suddenly very intimate proximity. Really, there's no way anyone's gonna catch a glimpse of this and not feel like a voyeur. At first, it's all sweet teases, a tilt of her head into those fingers, welcoming, her hand settling lightly against their side. But as that little bit of making out draws on, she gasps, cheeks suddenly flushed, eyes entirely unfocused on the world around her. Her brow creases intently as her hands both tighten, one on Darcy's hand, the other on Eerie's side. Poor darkling looks like she's on the verge of letting out a very intimate sound when the contact breaks, leaving her breathing heavy, wide-eyed. Blushing as her attention follows Eerie, a dopey sorta smile flashed, suddenly shy. Hi. Somebody else is gonna need to tell the constable to keep the game going. Or that Taylor can take the vodka set between her legs. She's a bit dazed and needs a minute.
"Really?" says Lambert to Kai, faintly startled "More canapes? I'll get on that." He looks around the room, curiously, and then he says "Kai, er, oh! I see. Yes, there will be more canapes," he says warmly, taking Kai's hand and shaking it "Yes, right. Well, I like prizes! I also like truth or dare. Let me just set up the food carts in the right spot and I'm going to go and make some brand new friends!" The satyr glances around, and he hisses, lower-voiced "Is there anyone here who's easily offended or are they, you know, cool? I'm tired of wearing this apron..."
"Songs," repeated, affection in that - in the knowing. And Taylor replies to Brent's thumbs-up with a ressurection of dual finger-guns. Pew-pew. And a mutual grin. For the most part, though, they direct their attention on how Eerie follows through. An, 'Ooo' at the seductive assertion, the shed layer and the burying of face to nook. "Cool gig, Jedi tricks, /and/ kind of a badass when put on the spot," they review. And their tone relays the same impression of respect found in the newly met PI. And if they feel the urge to clap or cheer, when they note the effect of the kiss, the suddenly shy and dopey expression worn on Slip, they don't, if only not to ruin the moment. The same sentiment goes to not urging the game forward or stealing the vodka while the holder is distracted.
Brent drifts off into his own thoughts even while teasing Charity. Who knows what the Leechfinger is thinking about? The smile on his face is huge, even as he drifts away drifts away drifts away, the hand slowly falling back down to his side.
Charity's lashes flutter, and she grins down at Brent. "That does look delicious," she rumbles on out, as she reaches out with her free hand to wrap fingers lightly around his wrist. Holding it in place, as she takes his finger into her mouth. Licking it clean, slow and thorough, with a pleased sound. Not slobbery, for the record. She gives the not-a-vampire his hand back, and returns to the playing of fingers through his hair. Taking in the spirit of voyeurism, she watches the rest.
Kai shrugs at Lambert and says, "Ask the lights." He shakes Lambert's hand a little longer than necessary. "Look in your goody bag for tickets, and keep the apron on around the food. Once you're mingling, uh, do whatever feels good, man." He makes his way to the stage, and he gestures to have the music brought down again. The spotlight shines on him redundantly, and he takes to the microphone again. "Hello, hello! It's time for another round of prizes! Before we start, I want to mention that our chef will be sending people around with canapes, so dig in." He stares at the dance lights meaningfully. Then he gestures for his assistant to bring the jar around. He pulls out a number and reads it, and the lucky winner is Lambert! "If you have this number, you've won a massage for two at one of our local spas!"
When Eerie draws back, they release Slip's hair to use that hand to retrieve her Crotch Vodka and offer it to Taylor. They clear their throat, grinning to themself in an uncontrollable sort of way as they blink and focus and look around, before finally pointing at Darcy. "Truth or dare."
Darcy sniffs a little bit and then turns to look at Eerie when he's pointed at. He lifts his chin up, smiling that lazy wolf smile; there's a little coyote in there, no doubt. He gives Slip's hand a squeeze and then says, "Dare." Because the truth is serious business.
Damn, when Spring plays around, Spring /plays around/. Ian comes wandering up, all in pink and some of it silk and lace (while the rest is more like comfortable flannel), towards where most of the action seems to have landed. Hands shoved in the pockets of his pants, he studies the game with interest, the tips of his wings crossed behind him.
Lambert is amused by Kai's current behaviour "Oh! I will," he says, and he retrieves his goody bag from under the food cart and peers into it "Man, this is a lot more than you usually get in one of these..." Still, he keeps on handing out the canapes, because Kai's drugged ass has declared that this is important. He does keep one ear out for things, and then perks "Woooo! Wait, what _kind_ of spa is it?" he calls out, his tail flicking "Can I get my -" A pause "Just a massage is fineeee!" the new Changeling calls out "Wow! Thanks Kai!" His own sleepwear is a silk grey flightsuit that is a bit too sheer. But he has an apron on. Right now.
Slip's free hand, as Eerie departs, reaches up to run through her hair where their fingers were... which, given that the chemicals are starting to hit in full force--possibly with some help from that magnificent trigger--turns into a bit of absent self-petting as she watches the might-be-Jedi. Oh, but there's a squeeze to her hand! Blink. She refocuses her dark-with-dilation eyes on Darcy, transfering her dopey smile to the elodoth. In a Reptar suit. She giggles, brief and quiet. An ear pivots reflexively toward Ian's approach, and the rest of her attention follows, well, a different trajectory, her head tipping back--which calls for the drop of her hand, shot off to the side in search of an Eerie to connect with--so she can smile up at the glass dragon. "Games and drinks and drugs and cuddles and plenty of blanket." An invitation. For him and whoever else might happen by. It's a cozy corner of the ballroom, over here.
Taylor absently tilts their head toward the renewed reading of prizes. But this time they're not cheering along or clapping, again, not likely to be the first to break the spell that Eerie inspires. "Good job," they stage-whisper to the grinning Eerie. But they do accept the vodka when it's handed over, and as the latest round of Truth or Dare is directed toward Darcy. They focus on twisting off the cap with a delicate grip and a turn of the wrist, setting it aside for partnering back onto what is likely to be an empty bottle by the end of the night, if shared. They take a swig, then another, washing down taste and burn with more of the same before offering the bottle up and around for future takers.
Kai waves to Lambert and says, "You be good! And congratulations!" Then he reaches into the jar again, and the raffle ticket he drawso ut is Charity's. He calls out the number and says, "Do we have a winner? The prize is dinner catered by our world-class chef Lambert for four. If you like the food you've been served tonight, then you'll be in for a real treat as he fixes you and your friends a meal in the comfort of your own home. Or someone else's home! I won't tell you how to live."
Marek emerges once more from his pillow fort with his collection of empty wine bottles and drink glasses. He loads them unsteadily on the tray and walks carefully back to the bar for another bottle of the wine he's been... we'll be generous and call it sipping. A new prize scored, he lists as he makes his way back towards his fort. He pauses and adjusts his rumpled sheep onesie. His face brightens as he finds his pipe and a dime bag in one of the pockets. He glances around, confused for a moment before he just cops a squat right there and sprawls out, drinking wine out of the bottle and packing a bowl. He catches sight of Lambert doing... something... and offers a little wave and then waves at Kai too, even though the deer boy is rather busy at the moment.
The numbers are read, and Charity's brow furrows. Why do they sound familiar? A peek into her goodie bag - with a brief distraction to grab a piece of chocolate - and then she's waving her free hand around. That's her! "I can't get up right now, handsome," she laughs, with a gesture to the man zoned out in her lap, and the Darcy comfy on her other side. "But mightly glad. Sounds delish. Does he come in that get-up? Asking for a friend."
Hopefully whoever is doing lighting does not cut to Lambert, because the goat-man looks a little startled to hear he is a prize, it has to be said. Then, however, Charity feeds him the straightline of the decade, and the brand new Changeling says "Absolutely, but I definitely laundered everything before wearing it tonight."
Reptar has chosen Dare, and Eerie thinks for a good long few moments. "I dare you toooooooooo..." They rub their fingers together, get distracted for a bit, and begin just running their hands over their heavily-tattooed forearms, just like, -feeling-. Skin is weird. Oooh, they can feel the little scars from the tattoo needle, cool, oooooh. Ahem. Daring. "I dare you to...uh. Do a magic trick. You can use some kind of real magic or legerdemain. But you have to at least -attempt- to blow us all away."
Cheering a little rough and quiet, as the vodka does its thing, Taylor celebrates Charity's victory. But doesn't offer to get up, either, to go and accept it for her. They were lazy enough in their comfort to wait for floating vodka, and that extends to the now as well. When no one takes the vodka, they set it down next to the cap. Their nostrils do flare as someone packs a bowl, though. And they lean until they can see Marek, waving, and if they can catch their eye, waving him over to join the huddled group. Pipe and wine and all. A satellite of not yet present substances. Wait - did Eerie just dare Darcy to do a magic trick? They lift a brow, and return their regard to searching between the expressions of present company. They are, at least, curious to see where this one goes.
Kai regards Lambert sternly at his reply to Charity. He's not angry, Lambert, just disappointed. "ANYWAY, on to our third drawing!" He reaches into the ticket jar once more, and after a good rummage, he comes up with a ticket, and he reads the number. It turns out Ian is the lucky winner this time! Kai calls out the number, and then he says, "If this is your number, you've won..." He gestures for his assistant to bring out the prize. "This fine bottle of whiskey and a crystal decanter set to go with it. Maybe if you're lucky, you can bring it over to that dinner Lambert's cooking." By golly, he's going to matchmake while he's at it.
Actually Ian was just going to take that vodka - some alcohol would go down real nice - when someone calls his name. "Um?" He pauses in his approach of the truth or dare circle and swivels towards Bill, wings tucked close so he doesn't accidentally whack someone.
"You won a thing," Bill says, and hands Ian his raffle ticket.
"Me? Are you sure?" Ian takes the ticket and squints at it, then raises his hand to get Kai's attention. "Hey, perfect, I'm thirsty." A reckless grin flashes and the Lost starts over towards the glowing deer to collect the whiskey and cup. "Here, Bill," he hands off the cup, because it clicks against his fingers and glass against glass is a terrible sound. "Thank you Kai!" he adds, stealing the whiskey. "There's not going to be any left for that dinner." Ha. We'll see about that.
Slip, releasing Darcy's hand, claps excitedly at the prospect of *magic tricks*. She has only the barest inkling of what the elodoth can do and isn't precisely in the right mindset to worry about the implications right now. With a little scoot aside, just a teensy bit closer to Eerie--so that she can watch Darcy more easily, to be sure--she tries Very Hard to focus. Even if the music's distracting. And the people. And the smells. And the soft robe against her skin. And the tastes in her mouth and the saliva still drying on her neck. There is just so very much to notice right now, and it's fantastic.
Marek hoots and cheers for Charity's and Ian's victories, but keeps focused on his bowl packing. If Tulane offered -this- as a major, he'd have a shot at graduating someday. Yet then, hark! The flock beckons! The Blood Talon on sheep's clothing gathers his things and trundles over with a dopey smile. He doesn't really see any familiar faces, so gravitates as close to his fellow flock member as he might before splaying back out. He sparks the bowl, draws deep, and offers to pass it to the flock, should they be so inclined. As he breathes out, he squints some, trying to discern what's going on with the truth or dare game.
Lambert beams at Kai and shoots him double fingerpistols. EEYYYYYY. He then glances over at Ian and pauses. He was _told_ to go meet with a crystalish dragon, and Ian appears to fit the bill. Lambert picks up a soup-spoon and quickly examines his reflection, and fixes his fleece. One is supposed to be neat when meeting people, or at least, not make as much of a disaster of his current, erm, Court as his last one. He starts heading towards Ian. Trot trot trot. Barefoot - no hooves on his ankles, despite his ram's horns in the vision of the fantastic. "Hello, Mr. Marek!" he says as he passes him, and then clears his throat near Ian "Er, sir? Hello. My name is Lambert - I'm the chef of this party, a friend of Kai's. I'm also new to New Orleans."
Taylor's dilated pupils have shrunk the mountain ranges of their layered grey irises to a thin arctic mantle. They're feeling what they took, now, at least to some extent. No particular effects announced by the diminutive Ithaeur. But their smile is soft and lazy. But they don't seem at all tired, outside of the darker skin around their eyes - so, any tireder than they usually seem. A slow glance back, over the shoulder and up at the presence of Ian upon victory. A polite applause gifted to the winged stranger. And back over to Marek to notice how close they've gotten between glances. "Hi. We're playing Truth or Dare." They've probably already figured that one out. They take the offered pipe and aim a broad smile that flashes white teeth to flock in turn. "Thanks," they say. And before they set to inhale from the still embered bowl, they offer, "I'm Tay." And they inhale, slow, letting the spark of flame spread and ash the top layer and some of what remains beneath. Gaze ocassionally shifting to watch Darcy from the corner of an eye so that they don't miss the trick. They might catch Marek's name when it's stated by the passing Lambert.
Kai beams at Ian. "Congratulations!" he says. "I hope you enjoy it." It is a fine whiskey, as he said. Kai may not know much about alcohol, but he knows what to ask about when he's shopping, and he trusts experts. So it's smooth, just a little smoky, and has a nice, pleasant burn. With the prize handed over, Kai reached into the jar again. He reads off a number, and it belongs to Eerie! He repeats the number and says, "Are you out there? You've won this..." He gestures again for his assistant to bring the prize out, "This pair of wireless, noise-canceling headphones, for all your music-listening needs. Never speak to anyone on the street again with these beauties." It does look like a pretty fancy pair of headphones. "That's four prizes! We'll do the final three after another break. Again, be sure to enjoy the food, music, and, ah, socializing." Yes, he knows what they're doing over there at the //naughty// pillow fort.
Darcy thinks for a long moment and then he looks Eerie dead in the eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. "Slip has seen this one already," he admits, and then he twitches his nose. "But okay. Come here." He slides his hand from Charity's neck and then beckons Eerie over. "Just-- I have four fingers, right, and they each tell me a thing about you. Look." He holds his hand up and then he reaches out and taps each finger on Eerie's head lightly. And then he presses his thumb to the man's forehead. "And my thumb tells me your name. Now."
He closes his hands in a fist, then flicks out a pinky: "You really shouldn't hang out with street gangs, they're a bad influence, and--"
Ring finger: "Cops are probably just as bad, to be honest, and--"
Middle finger: "fair enough, the Constable thing is a gimme, but--"
Index finger: "you should make sure Mr. Collier isn't rotting."
Darcy tucks his fingers in and gives Eerie a thumbs up. "Nice to meet you, Nicky." He offers Eerie his hand. "I'm Darcy."
While Darcy is performing his magic trick, Eerie is sort of oozing into Slip's side. "Your robe is soft," the declare. This is a profound statement when the molly is -really- starting to kick in. When Ian goes up onto the stage, Eerie glances over to watch him acquire his prize, and states, "I know that guy. I -know- I know that guy. He's like. He's like. Is he one of the kids from Big Time Rush? Or, uh. Is he the boring one from One Direction? He's -somebody- famous. I know for -sure- I've seen that guy trending on Youtube like, -recently-, who is he."
And then, Eerie snaps back to paying attention to Darcy, because Darcy is asking them to come over, and so Eerie leans in to watch the trick and allow Darcy to tap their head. It's a weird trick. Eerie disentangles a bit to shake Darcy's hand. "Nobody calls me Nicky, by the way - like, sometimes clients try Nicholas out, but it never sticks. -Very- cool trick though." Turning back to Slip, they explain, "Collier is Simon's last name. Or was, you know, while he was alive. It's a -very- good trick. Like google but better." They turn back to Darcy, "Can you do it with pictures? I'd split a -lot- of fees with you if you can do that to pictures."
Ian takes the cap off the bottle and takes a very swift gulp - only to modulate his gulp to a /sip/ because, wow. A small cough follows and he beams at Kai, then turns back towards the snogging circle - that's what he's calling it in his head, snogging is a great word and should be used more often - only to encounter Lambert. He breaks into a wide grin. "Hi. Welcome. If you want to swear in we can do it here, no problem. Or we could just enjoy the party. I had some of the little shrimp things while I was on the phone. They were delicious. Welcome to New Orleans."
Wait. Wait. She's not being scritched any more? This is unacceptable to the not-a-wolf. Charity frowns up at Darcy for a moment, then remembers that he's been dared to do a trick. He's forgiven, if with a bit of a frown. Fingers still playing with Brent's hair, both hands now work in it. Time for little braids! Hopefully, he won't mind too much when he comes back to this reality. A small quirk of lips, as Darcy does that which certain wolves can. But then she's leaning back, flopping her head onto a pillow, and getting lost in the ceiling.
Marek turns his sunny smile upon Taylor as he hears their name given. "Marek," he offers in return. He thinks to pass the lighter he has too, just in case. Eerie winning gets the requisite hoot and cheering, the wolf nothing if not enthusiastic. Then the dare comes true and Marek watches. He doesn't seem to really understand any of it, but he's -attentive-. After a moment, he flits his gaze over to Tay, his expression an unspoken question. His eyes flit back as Eerie seemed to get something out of the exchange. He's back to dopey smiles when it's pronounced a good trick!
Lambert looks outright startled as he stands, beaproned (be glad!) in front of Ian "Here? In front of. _People_?"
A small shrug. "There are alcoves," Ian assures Lambert, tilting his head thataway. "Nobody has to see. But there are better places - just not tonight." He's back to grinning again. "I think Slip is a little too out of it to witness and I'm hoping to get that way - at least a little."
Darcy laughs at Eerie and shakes his head. He doesn't answer the actual question; but the message is pretty clear: not interested. That doesn't mean he couldn't be convinced later on but for now, his current set of morals stand steadfast. When Charity drops onto her back, he reaches back and tickles her stomach lightly.
Taylor may have taken too much, too quickly, in the way of inhaled smoke - perhaps a little drifty from what else is in their system, getting distracted by strains of thought and sensation. They get the pipe away from their lips, and turn into their own shoulder to cough and sputter as they hand the apparatus back. Leaving it to Marek if they want to pass it around from there. They do their best not to cough over Darcy's trick of revealing, but only catch snippets to follow curiously for their effort. Maybe trying to catch Eerie's response to those intuited factoids. Nicky? It earns its own curious tilt of head that follows across to Eerie's answer. But they resume their recent observational position, on the sidelines with Marek. "Pleased to meet you, Marek. I like your fort," they declare. "Want vodka?" they gesture to where they'd left it. Despite the additional presence of wine.
Kai peers out at the crowd. "Do we have a winner?" He repeats the number. "These are pretty good headphones." And he's willing to wait, because the rules of the raffle are sacrosanct.
"He burned his house down," Slip offers so very helpfully to Eerie, her voice very, very quiet. Barely more than a whisper. She doesn't need much more than that from here, close as they are, happy as she is to lean in and lend them all of her recently acquired softness. It takes her a moment--and, really, the approach of Darcy's hand into nearby proximity--to draw her attention away from Eerie to the promise of a magic trick. She's seen this one before. "Hunter." Affectionate, approving, but reserved. Somewhere, something's clicking into place, but it'll be a bit before the context catches up. She's too focused, in the moment, on the details Darcy's sharing about the necromancer at her side. When she's given the follow-up info, her head tipped toward Eerie, her eyes on their lips, she murmurs, "He called me Liz." Which doesn't quite compare, but that's all she knows of what Darcy found out the first time she witnessed that magic. "You're very pretty, you know." But she heard her name, an ear turning toward Ian, gaze straying toward others, catching Marek and Taylor. That makes her smile. This is a good night.
"Oh, of course sir," says Lambert "And if you hear any rumours about New York, theya re _all_ lies. Now...where do I get some of that?" He peers towards Slip "Alcohol I can do. Okay! I'm - finishhhhed servinnnng!" And he whips off the apron, leaving him in his grey silk flightsuit...pyjamas? Look. When you order from Amazon you have no idea what you will get. On the other hand, anyone who can see him probably has very idea of what they will get. "Wheee! Party time!" says Lambert in delight "Okay! I want tooooo...join a group! Who needs me?" Needs?
Raffle. Nobody's going up to get the raffle. Eerie has an unopened goodie bag, and Kai peering out at the crowd makes them check their ticket. "Oh shit," they say, "That's me." They push their way up to their feet, wobble, but once they're up they sort of bounce a bit, energy suddenly very, -very- high. "Wow, I'm up, okay. Okay. Wish me luck," they say to no one in particular. And then they're off, doing a sort of jog toward Kai and the prize. "Hey, hi. Great party. You're doing great. Having a good time? Hey, headphones, cool. Gosh, you're really blonde, can I touch your hair?"
Kai smiles broadly as Eerie comes up. "Hi!" he says, and he leans down from the stage to hand over the headphones. "Thank you! I'm having a lovely time! Everyone is so nice, except that bear." He leans down further so that his hair is available for touching. "You can touch it if you want to, I grew it myself."
Eerie reaches up with both hands to firmly ruffle Kai's hair, scrunching up their face with the intensity of the desire to muss up Kai's curls. Not that hooded onesies don't do that already, especially when you've had a spontaneous dance attack in them. "That's -great-, you're great. Thanks for the headphones, I'm gonna go back to the cuddle pile now. If you come over when you're done I bet somebody would lick the rest of the acid off of you." And with that, Eerie retrieves their prize and goes jogging back over to the pile of folks that would probably have turned into an orgy by now if everybody weren't so distracted by rolling or tripping balls.
Marek accepts the pipe back and it absently goes back to the crescent's lips. He sparks and draws another couple lungs full and just as absently offers it out. He smiles at the compliment of the fort and nods eagerly at the offer of vodka. He stretches over to collect the vodka, offering, "I have wine too if you'd like some." He settles and has a swig of the liquor and then asks, "Are you a recent migrant to New Orleans?" He pauses a beat and then offers, "I just moved here in... January." He shoulder bumps Taylor, should they allow for such things, chummily relaxing and trying to keep up with all the things going on around.
Okay, no swearing tonight. Ian makes a note to check up on New York somehow - surely there are hobs who will pass a rumor - and then salutes with a lift of the whiskey, blue eyes sweeping Lambert with... mild surprise. Guess his idea of lingerie and flannel pants wasn't the most out there of the night. Back towards the circle he joins, and with some people exiting or passing out, there's room enough for him to sit down and sprawl on a sleeping bag, wings relaxing a bit behind him - where people who can't see them might trip on them, oh well. "Whose turn is it?"
Taylor seems to regain their composure, breathing a little easier with the time to catch up to their lungs and to refill them with something with a little less heat. They don't even attempt to refresh themself off of the vodka left for the taking, or the wine newly arrived with Marek. "Soon," they say to the offer of said wine, and a serious nod arrives with the statement. On pause between substances, soaking in the differences before moving forward. Shoulder bump carrying through into a sway that has them rocking back into place, and bumping shoulders in turn, and sending a sidelong smile both warm and welcoming. "Been here around a month?" the answer, currently uncertain what the exact stretch of time may be. "Longest I've stayed anywhere in awhile," the additional quieter admittance, with implication that they mean to remain for some time. "Have a crew, locally?" thye add, in asking, taking Darcy's word for 'pack'.
Slip lists when Eerie goes from right up in her space to OH HEY HEADPHONES, like part of the world fell away. It's easy enough to tilt and teeter in a different direction, tipping forward toward Taylor. There was a game being played, right? She's lost that thread, instead sinking semi-sideways onto her side with her head against set right down in the ithaeur's lap without so much as asking. Or disrupting their conversation with Marek. It's incidental, really, just a place for her to rest and stretch as she listens to everything and waits for her world to realign. Or for somebody to need her. Really, there may as well be a big old neon sign above the cuddle puddle reading MOLLY AND LSD HERE! There isn't.
Kai giggles as his hair is mussed. "Eehee! Hee hee! Eeee!" Total delight. "Thank you!" he says to Eerie. He then says into the microphone, "Ahem. So we'll do the last three prize drawings later."
That guy in the Winnie the Pooh onesie calls out, "Do them now!"
Kai pauses, then says, uh... okay." He is not difficult to push around. At all. He draws another number from the jar, and it's Bill's! Kai reads it off, then says, "Whoever's ticket this is, you win a Fire TV cube! You don't even have to reach for the remote anymore. Just tell your TV what you want and it'll do it. Isn't that crazy?"
Lambert touches his temples towards Ian, with his fingers. An oddly old fashioned gesture. Then he trots on over to the Ecstasy and LSD group, clicking his fingers. He has already eaten and had retsina tonight. Time for more fun "You're even better at throwing parties than I am, Kai!" he calls out "You're the _master_!" And then he tries to follow Ian, with the absolute certainty of someone who is convinced his own presence is generally wanted. He is about to lean in and say something to Slip when he realises Kai is being ruffled by...someone "Kiss him! He's lonely!" Then he says to Slip, and there rest of the group "Hello!" If one has the eyes to see, his tail is flicking, a little cautiously "Hello, I am Lambert. Kai invited me." Kai invited everyone, dude.
"Yours," Eerie announces to Ian's question. Eerie has the authority to declare this because it was Eerie's turn last and Darcy has either wandered off or lost the ability to partake in truthing or daring. When they come back, they hold up the earphones for everyone to see, and declare, "These probably cost more than my -phone-. This is a great party." The headphones definitely didn't cost more than the -drugs- Eerie brought, but money spent on drugs for parties doesn't count. It's probably tax deductible. Eerie retrieves a bottle of orange-flavored carbonated water and reclines firmly into Slip, having forgone any sense of boundaries or personal space to instead just slip their arm underneath Slip's to link elbows while maintaining having free hands. After a big long drink from the bottle, they offer it over.
Taylor exhibits blinking surprise for the arrival of Slip's head in their lap, followed by a softer expression of both amusement and affection. They idly task one hand with petting, with running their delicate fingers through Slip's hair, and maybe getting a little lost in how that feels in turn. "This is Slip," they announce to Marek, by way of drifting introduction. "She invited me." To the party, they likely mean. There's pride in their tone for saying as much as their smile resumes. And they look up to the introduction of Lambert, as well. "I'm Tay. Slip invited me," the greet, and repeat, given that Lambert is forthcoming with their own inviter. Depending upon how Eerie joins them, Taylor's lap willingly bears a meager portion of their applied weight as well.
Nice! Bill, who has been staying mostly sober, still nursing that same glass he ordered at the beginning of the night, marches up towards stage to collect his goodies. "Hi there! Thanks, here you go," he turns over the raffle ticket, "Oh that's interesting. I'll get my granddaughter to install it, she's twelve and she knows everything. Thank you!" Bill is great, isn't he?
Ian grins at Lambert, bemused, then takes a deep /sip/ of his whiskey. Just a sip. Damn, that's the good stuff. He sighs afterwards. "So we were supposed to be playing Truth or Dare, but everybody fell asleep and Slip's in a drug coma." He extends one foot to nudge her - Ian is in sock-feet. They're fuzzy pink socks. "You alive, Slip?" Nudge. Then Eerie comments that it's /his/ turn and he blinks. "Me? Ummm..." He looks wildly around and then lands on Lambert - and flashes a wicked grin completely at odds with his pink and innocent appearance. "Truth or dare, Lambert?"
Marek flits his attention to the arriving dragon, watching them and the wings with a hint of fascination. He chews his lower lip a moment, but then Taylor is on the rebound and nudges his shoulder back. It elicits a snicker and his attention is drawn back. He nods a little, smile easy as he listens to them speak. "Yeah," he answers. "We're the Zombies." His smile brightens as he enthuses, "We're getting jackets." Crews need jackets.
Marek watches Slip's descent into Taylor's lap and seems all too happy with the situation. He reaches out and, should they not protest, gives some pets. Casual affection for strangers isn't bad, right? To Taylor, he chatters, "I bought us a building and stuff. Over in Lakeshore. It's going to be cool!"
He smiles at the introduction, murmur, "Good to meetcha, Slip." Then Lambert gets a wide smile and an offered fist to bump.
Kai beams at Bill. Bill //is// great. "You're going to love it," he tells him. Once the prize is handed over, Kai reaches into the jar, secretly hoping that the Winnie the Pooh guy's ticket isn't the one he grabs. It isn't. It's Taylor's! He reads the number out, and then says, "Whoever this is, you've won an assortment of confections created by our very own master baker Stasya! If you enjoyed the cookies and milk and the desserts, you'll really like this one. She's absolutely magical in the kitchen." He reads off the number again just to be sure.
This is nice. This is where all parties should go. Slip's got Taylor petting her and, in short order, Eerie in contact again. With water. She pushes a bit more upright, leaning into the investigator for just a second, until she takes the water and takes a swig. Then a bigger swig. Fuck, this is fantastic. Nodnodnod. She smiles up at Ian. She's alive! Her head tips up to take in Marek, a bright smile turned his way. "Hi, Marek?" When did she catch that? Curious what those ever-tilting, always-listening ears pick up even while she's checked out. Looking to Lambert, she gestures with the water bottle to all and sundry, perhaps more than she should, nothing, "I'm Slip, and these are my very pretty people." No, she probably can't really claim that of most of 'em, but she sure seems pleased with that assertion. "And, oh. Ian! You're playing the game. Yes. We're playing a game. Mm." She focuses on Lambert while offering the water--and a little bit of her weight--back to Eerie. Close is nice. This is good.
"Oh! Erm," Lambert glances around the area, considers his willingness to do anything. He rubs his chin "A challenge! I'm going to say...truth, si...er. Ian. Truth." He fist-bumps Marek, and he clears his throat "I don't suppose anyone would be willing to trade some molly for some canapes? I know they're free, but they are nice." And he chokes, amused "Hello, Slip's very pretty people. CONGRATULATIONS, BILL." Why not "Kai, come over _here_."
"Ooh," Ian says, and his grin gets sharper, damn near predatory - especially with those glass teeth gleaming. "Okay, Lambert, tell us what happened in New York." Look, he doesn't have to ask the hobs, he can just ask Lambert! ...and be avoided, by the rules of the game, but hey, if it's truly something Lambert didn't want to talk about, he wouldn't have mentioned it, right? Bottle time, another sip. "It is /remarkably/ difficult to get drunk on this," Ian observes. "But delicious. Anybody know any mixes that go well with whiskey? Cherry maybe..." Ian is not a bartender, that's for sure.
"The Zombies is a badass name," Taylor declares, with as much awe as humor. "Are they graphic jackets?" they ask, like that's an important point of contention. Though, in all likelyhood, they'll likely find the jackets 'cool' no matter what the answer is there. They don't protest the additional point of contact given to Slip, if Slip doesn't. And, on buildings purchased, their curiosity is furthered, if a little more difficult to articulate as the urgency to be social is chemically amplified, surrounding them with threads to follow and chase down as they try and focus on just a couple at a time. Wait, was that their number? They think it is, but haven't looked at it since they arrived. They just go with it. "Me!" they declare at Kai. "Though, I'm very willingly stuck right now. So I'll nab stuff when I am-bu-late." A nod. Serious. Deal sealed.
Building. Right. "What kind of building?" they ask, getting back around to the thread they'd meant to focus on. And even then, their smile broadens again, when they catch their addition to the collection of stated pretty people. And they continue to pet, and keep what point of contact that they can, while Slip is in reach.
Look, if things are a little confused and Eerie winds up accidentally partially cuddling Taylor, this can only be counted as Bonus Cuddles. Taylor doesn't seem like the sort to complain. Somehow, there will be contact. Ideally Eerie would be taking that tab of acid about now to have it kick in soon and really hit the peaks together, but they've forgotten, and that -might- be a good idea, the way everything's going. Eerie's eyes silently flick from Ian to Lambert and back, with intense concentration. Truth. Truth is interesting. You've got to pay attention to Truth. Dare is just making out, and people don't -need- dares to make out, but almost nobody tells you Truths without a game around it.
"Kisses," Slip states very clearly to Lambert, the going price for molly. Did she ask that of anybody else earlier? Nope. But she also wasn't feeling the effects of her own chemical cocktail yet at that point. Not that she waits for the satyr to come kiss her before stretching back for Blinky, the red ghost tin where she keeps her magic pills, maintaining elbow-lock with Eerie and invading Taylor's personal space a teensy bit more intimately. Perfect time to peck a cheek on the way past. When she resettles into previous cuddling configuration, she looks back to Lambert and explains, "My crush over here--" With a tip of her head to Eerie. "--has the acid. And water. And..." She just makes a quiet sound, distracted. But, hey, she's got her tablets on hand, all of 'em stamped with little violet butterflies.
Kai points to Taylor when they call out they're the winner. "Sure thing, just collect the gift certificate before you go. And that brings us to our last drawing. I'll show you the prize in advance this time." His assistant comes out with a bottle, and Kai reads from the label, "Dom Perignon, the king of champagnes. This is a limited edition 2008 run. Don't ask me what I had to do to get this." He reaches into the jar, but before he draws a number, he tells Lambert, "I have to finish the prizes first."
Which prompts Winnie the Pooh to call out, "Get on with it!"
Kai shoots a glower toward Pooh bear (who //is// that guy!?) and he draws out a ticket. The number he reads is Marek's! "Are you out there?" he says. "Come take this bottle before I run off with it." He laughs a little.
Lambert says "Oh God, please don't make cocktails out of whiskey of that quality - unless you just mean another drink that would suit it?" Some things are more important than Truth or Dare! "How about a margherita? Then the texture of the ice will also be different!" Lambert pauses, then leaaans over. He has a distinct tummy, but he seems to be just as agile as any acrobat, despite it "Alright," he says to Slip, brightly. And he shifts closer and then looks back at Ian "My...er. Previous. Boss that I promised to was. Very beautiful and imperious. And she had a beautiful and imperious lover. And I was, erm, very new as a sort of refu...gee? From a place which I had to work to get out of. So I wasn't great at making sensible decisions. Anyway, I slept with my q...boss' girlfriend." He clears his throat "Annnnyhoo - er, Miss Slip, I'd quite happily give a kiss. As long as your crush doesn't find it upsetting. Because I'm suuuuper tired of being stabbed and banished?" He gives an easy, fang-filled grin and then he bends his head to offer a warm kiss to Slip.
Bonus cuddles, in this circumstance, with all who the cuddles are applied to, can only be counted as a positive metric. Taylor sets a hand delicately on Eerie's shoulder, opposite the one petting Slip, as a circuit of contact is created. The invasian is entirely welcomed. And a tilt of one cheek presses up to the peck in passing, following it briefly before the snuggle pile is resumed. If there were any weird subversion to Conan-esque imagery, of forms settled against thighs of a throne-sitting barbarian king, it's this one, where Taylor stands in for said barbarian - confounding and diminutive and adorable, in a too baggy onesie with a sheep-face hoodie and poofy white tail. And is there a Lambert looming, prepared to kiss Slip as well? Their attention difts between this and the awaited reply from Marek on the purchased property.
Marek grins with pride in his pack, nodding confidently. "Yeah! We have this cute little green zombie wolf we're going to put on the back and everything!" His voice is a little hazy as he rambles, "I'm getting a humvee type thing that I'm going to magic out so I can drive it around in the shadow." He nods sagely and lifts the bottle of wine to his lips for a deep pull. "It was a condominium building. I bought one of them, but that wasn't enough room, so I was like, 'fuck it,' and just bought out the full building. Mah Flock is worth it, yaknow?" He beams and slurs happily, "Floooock."
But then his number is called and he's won! He stands unsteadily, giggling at the fact that he gets THE BEST prize, that likely won't see the morning. He chatters happily on his way up, "I can't believe it! I'd like to thank the Academy of course. And Hudson's Mom for all her support. And my new friend Taylor for being part of the Flock I've always dreamed of." He claims his champagne and bows after stumbling up on the stage. "Woooo!" he exclaims loudly, lifting his arms and prize triumphantly.
Mild exasperation from Ian. "Oh, that's all? Well, I'm not going to sleep with you - my brother's all on about power imbalance and shit and I'm supposed to be-- wait." He furrows his brows. No one asked about that. "Sorry. Rant for another time. A more sober time." He lifts the bottle in challenge to Lambert. "You don't like it? Get me drunk faster. This is too good to gulp. I need something easier." Ian hasn't had /much/ experience drinking, but he knows what he likes. Lambert is also getting a sidelong, "Oh, and I think that makes it your turn."
When Lambert mentions that -Eerie- might find Slip kissing somebody 'upsetting', Eerie devolves into laughter that, frankly, they can't quite make stop. They do try, very hard, but they fail -badly- after a few attempts. "Oh god, that's. Whew. I get the distinct feeling that if Slip ever had a crush on somebody that cared if she kissed someone, she'd stop having a crush on them real fast." The giggles turn into little contented sounds at -more cuddles- happening. Then: "Oh, right, I need to--" They lean away from the tangle of limbs juuuust enough to dig out a tab for Lambert. There are bottles of water -everywhere-, most of them sealed and available for the claiming, but acid needs to be found.
"No banishings or stabbings," Slip promises sweetly to Lambert as she tilts upward to accept that kiss, her lips a commingling of raspberry and mandarin, her scent all the promise of a spring evening, and all the descent into decadence at the other end. It might be a more intimate kiss if she could stop smiling so goddamned widely at the combination of scritching on one side and giggling on the other. Still, there's a little tease of teeth at the end, just before she tilts back in against Eerie. "I like that you get me." Oh, but. Right. They're getting tabs which means she's holding up tablets in her little ghost tin. Then looking to the rest of the crowd to see if anybody else is looking for some ecstasy. "Your turn to truth-or-dare someone, Lambert."
"Badass," Taylor says to the confirmation of the graphic - and its description, reviewing with what might be one of their words of the night. They have to squint, maybe not following on the subject of the humvee passing around into the shadow - maybe trying to figure out how to do such a thing, themself. But the purchased condo building brings them back to clarity. "Like, all of it?" they ask. Which is immediately confirmed. Yes, all of it. "What are you going to do with it?" But that question might have to wait. They cheers on the victory of the flock when Marek ascends to collect his prize, and chuckle at the gratitude he expresses to the academy. And, well, Hudson's Mom. An answering, "Wooo!" As they're included in the speech. Even if their hands never really leave Eerie or Slip to give that gesture any oomph. But it's like they're enchanted to their current points of contact. Not theirs to willfully utilize so long as they are appointed their points of contact. And they pet Eerie's shoulder, for their insight into Slip, like agreement and then reward for the likeminded, as absent minded as the gesture may actually be.
Kai grins at Marek as he comes up to take the champagne. "Congratulations!" he says. Then he says into the microphone, "That's all the announcements from me. Thank you for coming to the Spring Bash 2020, and have a great time! Eat, drink, enjoy yourself, and then cozy up to sleep!" He waves, then exits the stage. The spotlight turns off, and the music comes back up, and the glowing deerman trots toward the cuddlepile. "Hi! Was that good? I think it went well!"
Lambert looms! Loom. But then he peers at Taylor "...that's a nice onesie," he says, because while sheep are only far cousins from goats, the odd satyr is more sheepy than goaty sometimes. He then eyes Marek who is talking about Secret Things, but this place seems to be more relaxed. Lambert clears his throat - right up until Marek gets up. Then he just claps brightly, and he glances back to Ian "Some places are...some places are more serious than others," Lambert says, carefully "I mean, I didn't get zotted by my...promise. But. I coulda been. And I mean, you know, some _people_ take things very seriously, and while that wasn't execution-worthy _there_ I got reminded a lot there were a lot of places it would...be so?" He eyes Ian and then he says to Marek "Truth or dare?" And he gets up, holding up a finger, and comes back with a bottle of retsina from under his cart "This is easy to drink!" If you like pine? And are Greek? Then he says "Thankyou!" to Eerie.
Kissing, though, well, that needs a lot more attention. Lambert is a delicate and careful creature, when he wants to be. His own Mantle is more like the ripe end of Spring towards Summer - honey and roses and baklava and maybe just an edge of blood. He disengages with a warm smile, and he reaches out to ruffle Slip's hair - and takes a pill from the tin, deftly. Pop!
Marek murmurs, "Huh. This cork is made out of the stuff those push-pin boards are made out of instead of plastic. Weird." Tulane is money well spent, obviously. He sways his way back to the group, fiddling with the foil and wire restraining the cork. "I think we had this brand at my sweet sixteen," he murmurs. He wraps an arm around Kai's shoulders and gives a little squeeze. He tries to kiss the Lost's cheek and affirms, "It's an awesome party, dude. Thanks for inviting me." He smiles and gives another squeeze.
His eyes flit to Lambert and his head tilts as he regards him curiously. "Truth or Dare?" It takes a moment for the blond. "Oh. Um. Dare!" He squints at the satyr and whispers, "I couldn't guarantee I know the truth right now. I been drinkin'."
Lambert and Slip's kiss is watched sidelong with a lazy grin. Parties are good. They have lost track of what's going on and when Marek announces he's been drinking, there's Eerie back into the giggles again. They lean across and press a kiss onto Slip's cheek, and then into Taylor's, before announcing, "I need to put cold water on my face and hair and probably in my mouth, maybe. If I haven't been back in an hour, someone come check the bathrooms for me." Eerie disentangles and wobbles up to their feet before wandering off toward the nearest place with a door and a sink.
The "retsina" - what is that? Ian's never tried that! - gets investigated, then sniffed, then sipped... then gulped. Apparently the dragon finds it acceptable. He lets out a deep sigh of relief and gives Lambert a wide grin and a thumbs up. "We'll see how things get when Summer rolls around," is his answer to Lambert. The game is now watched with interest, and he laughs at Marek's comment. I been drinkin'. "Haven't we all!" he throws out. "Except those of us who've been trying other things..." He turns an eye on Eerie and Slip thoughtfully - but Eerie's going, and that leaves Slip, hmm. Naah, alcohol first, weird stuff later.
Ruffling is a lot like petting that ends too soon, but, hey! Slip's still getting pets, too. She leans into Taylor a bit more directly as Lambert departs, contentedly sinking into sensation as the game they started continues on around them. Oh, and more Eerie-giggling! It has the darkling giggling, too. Briefly. Which makes her blush, her cheek a teensy bit warm when that kiss hits it. "I swear it," says the changeling, sincere in her intention, though she's very quick to append, "Though I can't guarantee an hour." Time is just not moving at comprehensible intervals right now. Tin closed, she holds it in her lap and leans in against Taylor as she watches Ian. "Just a kiss." A restatement of price. Should he care to experiment.
"Thank you!" Taylor says, chirpy cheerful for the compliment that Lambert gives them for their onesie. It's a cheerfulness that may arrive in too deep a contrast, for the weight of Lambert's story, but with their attention so thoroughly split, they're not getting hit with the full effect of the telling. And they seem confused, for a moment, as the game resumes, brought back to life from where it had been dropped. Their gaze shifts, attention lifting back to the arrival of Marek returning to the gathered group, and the stated choice in Dare, which has turned out to be the overwhelmingly more popular option of the two. And they're distracted in yet another layer, when lips are pressed against their cheek by Eerie. They smile warmly at them in response. "I'll set an alarm on my phone," they promise, after Slip makes their own uncertainty as to time clear, watching the PI depart. They fish out phone out of a onesie side-pocket with their now free hand, and get right to that before they're bound to forget. And hopefully they'll get that phone back into their pocket before long. The petting of Slip, alternating into caresses and holds is paused for her kisses but always resumed while snuggled.
Kai smiles broadly and he shoulder-nudges Marek, then sidles closer to him, sitting cross-legged. He relaxes, but remains alert in case he has to jump up and be a host! He has assistants, though, and they are taking care of everything. "Are we playing a game?" he says, bright-eyed. Bright-everythinged, honestly. It's a soft light he emanates, though, not harsh on the eyes. It's just not possible to be in a dark room with him. Except to Eerie. To Eerie, he's just a guy. Everyone else gets the 'look at me!' treatment.
"Yes, it's _good_ champagne," says Lambert hastily "Marek, Marek. Please don't gobble it all while you're too drunk to work out what it tastes like!" He laughs, and then he says to Marek "I Dare you to model Kai's pyjamas and tell us all about your manly stag-like attributes." He beams at Marek, fingers interlaced. And he watches Eerie get up "I hope they're okay," he mutters, and he says to Ian "Retsina is very good - I have more if you need it. Er. It is also very strong." He eyes Ian a moment or two. But at least he has saved the whiskey! He lets his breath out, glad of it's redemption, and then he leans back. And he closes his eyes "Yes. This is Truth or Dare. And I have just Dared Marek! Look at the sheep onesies. So adorable."
Slip murmurs a soft, "Thank you," to Taylor as they take care of the time-keeping, a hand looping loosely about their nearest leg while they other continues to absently hold that red ghost tin. Swaying to the music, she seems only partially present in the ongoing conversation, drifting in and out at irregular intervals. When Kai draws up, though, she focuses fully on him, smiling brightly as a darkling can. And then flicking a look to his forehead where that black-and-purple splotch of LSD remains. "I bet Tay would lick that off for you," she poses, gaze dipping to the deer's for a moment before she looks aside at the ithaeur to see if her guess is correct. A tiny bit of acid can't be bad at this point, right?
Marek giggles at the dare and starts to tug at Kai's deep jammies. He bleats, "Daa-aa-aa-aady says I need to wear your jammies. Give em!" He laughs and then sways to his feet, realizing he should take off his too. As the wool is shed, it's readily apparent that Marek doesn't really wear much to bed and probably has around zero shame where his body is concerned. Being a college wrestler might account for a lot of that. The skimpy little powder puff blue trunk-style briefs don't cover much for sure.
Kai, being the good sport that he is and even better host, gives up his own jammies, but is able to cover up some with the sheep onesie that Marek sheds. The deer jammies are a bit tight on the wolf, but tight isn't always a bad thing! Properly clad, he puffs up and struts around the circle. "Have you ever seen such a strapping example of pure, Grade A venison in your life?" He pauses his strut and flexes with a goofy grin. "Hunters? Shit, son, these are the only guns that matter, right here! I'll throw hooves with the best of them! Wolves, Peoples, Lion and Tigers and Bears?" He thrusts his hips forward garishly, giggling out, "I got a rack that'll slay them RIGHT HERE!"
The phone gets set down, for now, on the ground next to one thigh. The dare is overheard, and Taylor looks between Kai and Marek. The former, given the curious, concerned attention, of one who recalls the application of stamp to forehead. But the dare, overall, is followed with curious amusement; attended from their place of cuddled comforts. Their now freed hand resting on the arm of their hand that settles on their leg. They seem content like this, drifting in and out of what they attend with Slip. Brought back from it when Slip makes their pet and they perk, just a touch. The matter of the splotch of LSD returned to. And they follow the subject from Slip to Kai, and they nod in confirmation, smile inclined toward both the playful and helpful. "You would have to bring it down to my level, though," they assure, though the offer seems to go missed. Also stating their intent not to depart from the present cuddlepile. All lickings to be brought to them. And otherwise, strippings and dressings to be watched with amusement over the goofyness of the task, and naked assessment of form, beyond that. Shameless in that respect, this wolf-slippered sheep.
So the Retsina is fancy and good - and also very drunk inducing, and Ian has just requested a bottle he could pretty much drink straight up... yeah, this is going to end well. The dragon oozes down into the pile of people, clutching his bottles close and spreading his wings out wide behind him... sprawl. The damn things are enormous, you could literally carpet a large room with them when they're unfolded, and here he is unfolding them and stretching out to get comfortable. "Good stuff," he compliments Lambert, and then grins at Slip. "Naah. A party isn't the best place to start something new." That's right, he's never had molly or LSD before. "Maybe later." He tops that off with a gulp of his Retsina, lounging comfortably in the chaos of bedding on the ballroom floor.
Drinking, drugs, kissing, stripping... This party's got everything! Slip issues neither hoot nor holler for either undressing, but she does watch intently. Nevermind that her attention might get stuck on strange details. Every voyeur voyeurs in their own way. Especially while candyflipping. It's the giggled proclamation of a killer rack that sets her to laughing, the drug-fuzzed darkling spilling into Taylor's lap as she titters. Unwilling to release her hold on their leg, she slaps her own in a sort of applause, muted through the plaid fabric of her pajama pants. When her amusement dies down, she smiles warmly at Ian and nods. "Better when your trip-sitters are closer to sober, too." An offer, should he ever wish to explore. With her free hand, she plucks up Taylor's phone and fusses with it clumsily, struggling just a bit to focus past the colors and light and unfamiliar shapes and organization. She might be distracted for a moment...
Kai is reduced to his boxer briefs, and he holds the sheep onesie on his lap. As Marek does what he does, Kai glances away and plucks at some of the fleece on the onesie. When Marek's done, he comments, "We don't sound like that." Someone has to stand up for bucks everywhere! Then he glances between Taylor and Slip. "Um, sure!" He smiles amiably and comes over to lower his head down to Taylor. Something to bear in mind, he hasn't seen his own forehead and has no idea what's on it. Just that someone at a party wants to lick his forehead, and why not? Spring's gonna Spring.
Lambert says, as an aside to whoever is near him "...daddy?" He adds "I'm reasonably sure I've got no children out there." He clears his throat, and regards Kai in the now sheep onesie "Very good," he tells him "I approve." Then he watches Marek with absolute delight at the guns comment "Oh my God, this is everything, I wish I still had a cellphone!" he says, clapping his hands together, and then he says to Kai "No, you don't - but you _could_! And now it's Marek's turn. Anyway, you should be proud of yourself. Everyone should be proud of themselves! We all are who we are despite the efforts of _fucking bastards_ to change us into something we're not, and we can piss on their graves because we're _right_!" He lifts his head, then he pauses "Awww, _man_, I forgot my panpipes."
Wings draw grey eyes, the sprawl of them, full extent guessed at, and then back to stripping and redressing pajama modelers. The constants are in Taylor's points of physical contact as their senses are otherwise drawn about the surrounding area. And they surely spot Slip on their phone, but given that it doesn't warrant further attention, they're likely assuming that it's just Slip's phone, not theirs. Theirs is... wherever they left it. Rather, they're all too happy to hold to the grip that holds their leg, and to absently caress Slip's cheek between pettings of hair at the metallic edges of ear. And when Kai lowers to their level, and presents the smudge of LSD for the taking, they follow through. Tongue extended, a wide lap up from Kai's brow and across their forehead that captures the remnants of the drug and leaves a broad dampness in its place. "There," they cheerfully assure the deer that probably isn't aware of what's been 'cleaned'.
Marek devolves into giggles as his dare seems to be suitably passed. He strips back out of the deer jammies and returns them to Kai's spot and he reclaims his own fleece onesie. A wolf out of sheep's clothing can't very well be a part of the flock after all. A rabid Zombie flock. The thought gives voice to a deep rumbling growl that the wolf's stray thoughts don't even try to restrain. But it does make him jump and look around, muttering, "What was that?"
Marek stuff his legs back into the onesie and re-encases himself within. He then reclaims his champagne and moves back to where his weed and wine await. He sighs softly, picking his pipe back up and taking a hit, totally missing that he's supposed to do anything else. He sucks in the smoke and holds it til his eyes are watering before he slowly breathes out.
While Kai is so very, very close, leaning in for Taylor to lick that blip of LSD from his forehead, Slip tilts in affectionately and murmurs a dreamy little, "Hiii," happy with more closeness, more contact. Maybe just more in general. It leaves the stolen phone drooping in her hand, threatening to join the tin which has already fallen to the blanket between her folded legs. She'll get back to it soon enough, surely. Give her a minute.
From Ian's pocket, there's a loud buzz. He twitches in surprise and the wings beat at the air for a brief moment, then he groans and heaves himself up, taking the bottles. "I'll be back." Someone's got to ask the next question, but it probably won't be him.
Kai smiles at Taylor. "You seem nice," he says, and he sits back, rubbing at his damp forehead with the back of his hand. He gives Slip a little wave. "Hi, you." Then he gets back into his deer onesie. He eyes Marek taking a hit off the pipe, and he says, "I thought I smelled the old electric lettuce. You know you shouldn't... oh, never mind. We're all degenerates."
Taylor gives a softer expression from the dreamy greeting offered up to the licked Kai from the Slip in their lap. "Thank you! I think I mostly am, sometimes," they say to the assessment of niceness given by Kai. "You and Marek make good models." Having clearly attended varied states of dress and undress of flock and the deer they'd later licked LSD off of. And in the exchange that follows once more, tilted head at the deep and rumbling growl that they catch but don't comment on. "That's some awesome champagne," they tell the sighing wolf, while he's exhaling smoke like a dragon. "Congrats." And, "I'll give you some cookies for some sips, later - I think I have to exchange a gift card for- " Electric lettuce? A broadly amused smile excuses the softer expression of affection that they'd settled into and they snort.
Marek snickers and assures Kai, "It's medicinal. I have the PTSDs and anxieties and stuff." He lifts his pipe again and draws another hit, sighing it back out after a moment. He nods to Taylor, leaning a little against the fellow Ithaeur, wool against wool. He giggles a little at the mention of cookies, but then it dawns on him that they're not using a euphemism. It stops his titter of laughter and he nods. "Yeah! I'll give ya my deets. We can hang out and sip champagne and nibble cookies." He blushes and bites his lower lip. He drags it through his teeth slowly and then looks at Kai. He flashes a smile and says, "Truth or Dare?"
It's unclear whether or not Slip catches 'electric lettuce' specifically, but once Taylor snorts, she giggles, a little chain reaction of giddy amusement that starts again when Marek giggles. Tiny little reactive laughs from the darkling, bubbles of happiness at other's happiness. She angles a smile to less familiar ithaeur getting in on the Tay-snuggling before her focus drifts back to the stolen phone as her head bobs to the music, focus drifting in and out, making the text she's evidently composing very slow-going.
Kai curls up close to Marek and rests his head on the werewolf's shoulder. "Truth," he says, "I'm too comfortable to move, and dares usually require movement. I've been on my feet all night." He had a dreamy smile on his face. It has been a good party, and now he gets to relax. "Truthy truth truth."
Snort to giggle. It's a transition that goes from Taylor to Slip, and back to Taylor again as they laugh in a second wave, chuckles and giggles colliding when attempted to be stifled. Shoulder to shoulder with Marek and euphemisms not even caught by the wolf of hedonistic origin, who gets on so well with Spring, and who should see the double meaning in words that escape them. Taylor finds the contact and the laughter pleasant enough that they join in again, in a softer manner, without really figuring out why. It's a pleasant kind of high. And they answer with several energetic nods to the notion of exchanging details. "I'll give you my number if you give me yours," they reply. This time likely intentional in the choice of their phrasing and the playful smile that the words arrive from. Nevermind that their phone is presently in Slip's grip. Nevermind that they think it hers. It might only get to the point of confusion for them, when they find that their own is missing. Their chin lifts, head partly turned toward 'truth' when Kai utters it. A first, in the game, thus far.
Lambert has been really quite quiet, but if anyone glances over, it might be because the high is hit. His pupils are blown out and he is lying back slowly onto the ground. He pauses "Have you ever actually looked at your hands -"
Marek is poised, like a wolf ready to pounce! He has a dare lined up and it has him utterly vibrating with sheer glee at how AMAZEBALLS it is. But then, Kai throws hooves and says 'Truth' and all winds go out of Marek's sails. He stares a moment and then repeats, "Truth?" He pauses and looks from Taylor to Slip and then to Lambert with a befuddled expression. He then flits his gaze to Taylor and hands them his own posh little phone. If one was to be into thievery, Marek has some nice stuff! "Here's mine," he whispers. "I def want yours."
Then he flits his gaze to Kai, then back to Lambert to cast an incredulous glance at the question about looking at hands. He shakes his head and looks back to Kai and asks, "In truth, which two did your matchmaking heart scream out loudest to bring together tonight?"
Slip offers Marek a look of profound sympathy, like she gets what Kai must be missing out on. Of course, in her brain, it's surely all just finding new people to kiss, but her brain can only hold so much data while it's processing sound into colors and scents into textures. There's a lot going on up there, okay? Oh! But there are phones being handed over, exchanges being made. She tips Taylor's phone toward them, an offering. To go with the other phone already in hand. As if she thinks they might be starting a collection. Who knows. Either way, once her hand is free, she reaches across the space Eerie had occupied to snag one of their bottles of bubbly water, in need of hydration, this one with a green lid. Lime.
Kai smiles as Marek deflates. Repayment for the deer impression has come due. He pats the werewolf on the knee. "I was really holding out for Slip and the person who won the headphones, what was their name? You two looked snuggly." He smiles at Slip. "But honestly I'd be happy if anyone gets lucky tonight. That's what Spring is all about." He then looks to Lambert. "Truth or Dare?"
"I mostly make sure that they're paws when they should be - and that they're properly hands the rest of the time," Taylor admits to Lambert. But then they start - looking and their hands, that is. One, gently tangled into Slip's hair, delicate fingers petting smoothness and upsetting the brushed into something more textured. Then their other, on Slip's arm, near to where she holds their leg. Maybe it's as much seeing them, the contrast against another, as it is realizing the task that they've kept to thus far, and keeping to it from there with the petting hand as the right is handed a phone. Not theirs, but they recognize it as belonging to the one who handed it to them. Marek's. They smile, and as Marek asks for Kai's truth, they go into the contacts and add a number for 'Tay', listed business as 'Flock', no surname, before handing it back over in Marek's direction. They pat their onesie pockets in searching for their own, to offer the same, starting to enter that predicted confusion. When Slip hands them theirs, they start to shake their head. "Thanks, but I don't need to call-" Oh. It's theirs. No questions asked. Just a chirp of, "Thanks!" They might not notice anything new about it until they've had the time or presence of mind to inspect it, but they offer it over to Marek in turn once a new entry for a contact has been opened. And they add the name Kai is looking for, to the conversation. "Eerie. Not Nicky."
Lambert watches Marek, from where he lies on the floor, and he says "I'm just saying I love my hands! I mean, they've done awwwwful things." And he looks so sad "But they've done great things as well! Why did I spend so much time doing sporrrrt and being jerrrrky when I could have been a cook all this time?" He shakes his head, staring at the ceiling. Fascinating, man. Look at the texture! He pauses and sits up "Dare!" he says "But I'm kinda derpy on my feet right now, so if you want somethin' real acrobatic, you're going to have to kiss my bruises." He says to Taylor "Oh! I see that's really interesting, I really...really want to ask someone sometime about what it's like wehn your world'sss...split instead. Of mushed together? Just in ways only some people can actually see." He is babbling along now, before he turns back to Kai "Dare."
Marek flits his gaze to Slip as she is mentioned and then Eerie's vacated spot as Kai gives his answer. The mention of lucky gets a giggle from the Blood Talon and he sings a couple bars of 'Get Lucky by Daft Punk before he realizes he can't sing for crap. Then his smile is colored with a blush to truly set of his rosy lips. He takes the offered phone from Tay and is then a little confused when another comes along to join it. He stares at them blankly for a moment and then slowly grins as he adds his own information into Tay's phone. According to his entry, his name is Marek Vasily and he lives on Lakeshore Drive. His business, he adds with a giggle, is Getting Lucky. You can take a guy out of High School, but you can't...
He smirks as he hands the phone back to Tay and focuses on Lambert. The little satyr is fascinating to the wolf in sheep's clothing.
Slip's helpful like that! And not at all a thief! Nothing has been done to Taylor's phone. She would never. When they take their phone back, she pushes her empty hand through her hair, not to smooth it back down or anything, but to acknowledge the absence of fingers that had been there so long that being without that connection feels strange. Not bad, just no longer normal. Fingers curl about her dark hair at the memory as she breathes, "Eerie," so very affectionately. Yep. Somebody's smitten. Those digits drop to her lap as she breathes out a sigh. Something in Lambert's babbling, right around mushed together worlds, snags her attention, leaving her staring absently thattaway until thoughts catch back up and she looks the direction Eerie headed earlier. There hasn't been an alarm yet, has there? Man, it's hard to tell how long it's been.
Kai squirms with excitement when Lambert chooses Dare. "Okay. Lambert. Lambert, okay. Okay, Lambert? I want you to smooch the cutest person in the room. You get to decide who's the cutest." He wriggles, so proud of himself. Now it's a smooching game!
"I'll be open to the question when you ask it, and when I have, like," Taylor starts, at Lambert. They might mean to add 'the brain to answer it'. But it's dropped. Either legitimate forgetfullness when they try to think of wat they mean to say, and leave it just so, or an intentional comedic effect that's lost behind the mask of inebriation. And they sing along to Daft Punk softly enough not to be heard all that well over Marek, until they trail off a little at the end when Marek stops. They take the phone back. The petting resumes. Only one hand needed to gently laugh at the business entered. To warmly attend the potential in a forged connection. Champagne and cookie hangouts. A crooked smile at Slip's affectionate statement of that name in the singular. And they toggle back from contacts to messages and pause. Expression shifting toward frozen panic for just a second. A thread tapped with thumb. And a too-slow realization of a sent message, followed by two more - whether one was what they sent, and how they were replied to. Once that's sorted out, the ease the tension back out of their shoulders within that onesie. Followed by a kind of dopey warmth in their eyes and smile smile. They bend, contort just a bit, to plant a kiss on Slip's forehead. The second dampened by them, since sitting here. The phone returns to their pocket and the straighten back up, still listening on on the dare as it gets given.
"I like Daft Punk. But I like a lot of music," says Lambert, getting up and dusting off his weird clothes. He shakes himself, from top to bottom, and sways a little. He _is_ top heavy, with his curly ram's horns. And he grooms back his fleece and then says to Marek "Oy vey." Lambert thinks, and he rubs his chin, his eyes huge "I love you all. Okay. I just. Well. Hmm." He adds "Is that girl who headed off okay?" He must mean Eerie. Then he says "Hmm hmm." He looks at Kai, nods, and then turns. Marek...nod...except Slip got him his pills! And pills are great. And isn't there something to be said for generosity? And then Taylor...and Lambert says "UGhhh, _Kai_, I would totally make out with _everyone_ here." He pauses, then says "Control Alt Delete, Google Search pun with 'Pan' in it, you know, like - let's just pretend that worked." He rubs the back of his neck "I don't wanna choooooooooOOoose." A sniff, and he says "Well, Kai's super adorable, and glowy gold, and his nubs are cute, even if he's quite, you know, up and punchy about them. And he knows what's what about green things. And that girl...guy? That person. Wait, is your name Taylor? I like scrappy. I remember these scrappy Maenads? And I am reasonably sure _you_ wouldn't like, bite off a finger of mine for fun? Also Marek seems nice and I know he's single and I frankly did actually like his deer dance...and Slip's just really kind, and you know, people put that downnnnn but the fact is that kind and interesting and dark all at once is extremely sexy -" Dither.
Marek lifts the wine bottle and takes a healthy swig. He swallows it as he listens to Lambert. His free hand slides over to gently give a little extra petting to Slip's hair, idly running his fingers through the silken locks. He takes another deep swig of his wine, all but emptying it. He leans his head onto Tay's shoulder and sighs contentedly as everyone is told they're pretty. He finishes the bottle and offers it over to the satyr, saying with proper gravitas, "There's only one recourse. It's an ancient werewolf tradition that when you're among a room of hotties and can't decide... you... SPIN. The. BOTTLE." He grins then and laughs, unable to keep the mirth contained.
Slip issues a wordless murmur of approval when Marek's hand joins Taylor's in petting her dark hair. Really, there is no way to measure this degree of fortune when a pair of pretty werewolves end up petting you instead of the other way around. Girl's lucky, to be sure. And so happily distracted, which is surely why she misses Taylor's tension, the worry about sent messages on their phone. But it's pretty impossible to miss the delivery of the kiss to her forehead. Her smile goes dopey as she leans back further, into the pair of petting hands, until her head's tipped to their shoulder, until she can judge her nose in against their jaw for just a second as she murmurs, "You're the cutest." So sure of it. When she picks her head up, it comes with a lift of her hand. Like she's waiting to be called on in class? No. She's casting a vote. "I vote for not choosing?" A question. She'll need somebody to second it. "But I'll take sexy." She blows a kiss to Lambert, so very pleased with his assessments. All of them, really. It's a bounty of riches in here tonight.
Slip adds a quiet, "Ooh, or that," for the prospect of spin the bottle. Ingenious solution, really.
Kai beams, pleased with his work as Lambert dithers. He stretches, then gets to his feet and says, "I need to talk to some people about the leftovers. We're donating them to a shelter." He nudges Lambert's foot with his foot and says, "Pick someone and kiss them. I've given you a free smooch, here." Then he wanders off, gleaming, to help his staff portion food into containers.
"Lots of music is good," Taylor decides. It's not a controversial stance to take in the slightest. But it does express broad tastes, on their end. To go with the clear preference when they'd started to sing along. "But music is part of my business." Bias. Clearly. They watch the self-debate with amusement, and some warmth left over from the dopey expression that preceeded it. They giggle some at the vocalized attempt to Google-search. Girl, guy, that person? They nod with unhelpful vagueness. And intake the qualification to be among the debated with pride.
"Or Tay," they offer. "Most people call me Tay." They adapt easily to sharing Slip's hair with Marek, fingers brushing fingers when they collide in the continued process of feeling the sensation of that softness, and in continued contact. They tilt their own head in against Marek's, at mutual rest with his on their shoulder. And while they're at being mixed qualities of helpful and unhelpful, they add, "And while I /can/ be known to bite, it's rarely ever hard enough to draw blood. Definitely not enough to take a finger. The ten I already have on me, is enough." Thumbs, apparently qualifying. And, they almost keep a straight face at Marek's statement of ancient rite. "It's tradition," they echo. The nuzzle from Slip earns exhale, and a mutual motion of their jaw gently brushed against Slip's nose. A glee in that smile for murmured praise. A quality of knowing, and of exhibiting expressions earned by a shared conversation in one-sided texts that continues to earn purchase in their interactions. "Nice to meet and lick you!" they call after a departing Kai. Great first impressions with the local Lost community. Definitely.
Lambert takes the bottle "That is a _good_ idea," he says, and then Kai is heading off "Aww," says Lambert, "He's the best." And he pauses "Oh, that's a good idea, with the shelter. Yes, definitely. Anything that you can't give away needs to be composted - meat and oil go in the bokashi bin -" He may be high, but food? Food is definitely something he gets "Alright!" he says to Slip "Well, after close experience with cruelty, one learns to _highly_ value the generous and kind. Okay, okay, leettts -" He puts the bottle down and spins it! "Wheeeeeeeeee-"
The bottle slowwwwwwwly spins around, because Lambert is high AF, and then wobbles slowly over towards Kai's departing butt...then Tay...then Slip. Slowing...Marek. Stop. Between Marek and Lambert. Lambert pauses "...do I make out with him or myself?"
Marek blows Kai a kiss as his deer boy has to go do... some manner of work, which just seems poorly planned out. It's late and everyone is some combination of drunk or high! Taylor's nuzzles are returned with muted enthusiasm. He comes on strong sometimes, so is being... something. Appropriate! Or something. He nods and backs them up, intoning solemnly, "I call them Tay." Flock has their back!
The bottle goes round and round, but then just points between. He glances at Lambert and a smile curls his lips as he asks, intrigued, "Can you make out with yourself?" He glances down and then back up before saying softly, "I'm down if you wanna. I can't promise a lack of tongue though."
"Nice to meet you and lick you," Slip echoes thoughtfully, moving on--or back--to, "an ancient werewolf tradition," then, "I definiely laundered everything before wearing it tonight," which gets her giggling a little. She concludes, "Wake me up for the orgy," with a happy sound, so very pleased with the things that have stuck in her head tonight. A brighter burst of laughter adds, "Can you makeout with yourself," to her list. This may well be the springiest of spring parties. Tilting a look back at Head Petter #2, she croons, "He has very nice lips," of Lambert. Just in case Marek was looking for reviews.
The party in the ballroom has quieted, those still here clustered or coupled up and possibly tangled under blankets, but the Island of Inebriation is still going strong, a bottle pointing mostly at Marek with Lambert on the other side. Slip leans against Tay who leans against Marek who's leaning against them. It's all very happy touchy lazy lovely. Spring parties are best.
An adventure has been had. Oh, the stories Eerie could tell about The Adventure That Happened On The Way To The Bathroom. For one, Eerie is not wearing the same clothes. They're wearing a pink t-shirt that proclaims that Eerie is an Essence Festival Diva, complete with a red lip print, and a pair of orange sweatpants that look like high visibility hunting wear. Their hair is wet and slicked back, and one eye is swollen as if they've fallen - or been punched. As they return, the smell of strawberry strongly accompanies them. They walk with a very slight limp, which slows down the march across the massive ballroom to the blanket oasis. When the necromancer drops down onto the blankets again, they wordlessly dig out the whipped cream dispenser and load a metal canister of N2O into it, and slide a purple balloon onto the tip. It is only after they've begun filling the balloon that they ask, "How long was I gone?"
"I should nab my cookie certificate. Eventually," Taylor recalls, at Lambert's statement of Kai's kindness. And they watch the bottle as it starts to spin, dilated grey gaze tracking the direction of the bottle's lip at it goes, as it passes them, and onto others, curious to see what fate will provide. And back into amusement at Lambert, as the bottle falls between two options. They lift their head, on delay, from its place against Marek's, freeing him up for the bottle-deemed kiss. And they might just like the way their name sounds on the newly met wolf-voice, because, despite the solemn, they smile and nod at the repetition of 'Tay'. Maybe they have input on what a self-kiss would be? But Slip's echoes capture their attention. Smile keeping from the utterance of their name. Smile given to the head in their lap, in turn. Interconnected warmth. A wolf at home at a spring party. Pets gentle and slow through her hair. "So many truths, tonight," they decide. And given that the metric was a little more skewed in the favor of dares, they must not mean the game. They must mean the quites. Those to remember. "Not quite an hour, if I set my alarm right," they tell Eerie. They probably didn't. Oh, hey! Bright smile in that direction too. "Welcome back!" Their turn to say it, apparently.
"Look, usually I'd be willing to try, but the sheer logistics in the _real_ world could make it hard," says Lambert "I'm not someone who can make a body double! I mean, there actually might _be_ a double out there, but I bet he sucks at everything." He stares at the wall for a long moment, and then he says "Okay! Yes, consent. Consent is a thing! Alright! But you have to - I mean - get someone else to spin it. So we don't slow down everyone -" He picks up the bottle and he hands it towards Eerie as they arrive "Spin it! We've been long enough that we're all friends, but I bet you are - oooh, nangs? We have nangs?" A happy sigh, and then he climbs next to Marek - rather than squashing Slip. He weighs more than Marek does, so he carefully positions, slides an arm around his neck, and leans in to kiss him on the lips. His own are dry, faintly tasting of retsina, and he presses in so that Marek can feel his weight.
Eerie has a bottle in one hand. They cross their legs to sit upright, which gives them a nice little circle to slide the bottle into while they tug the balloon free. They suck a lungful of nitrous from said balloon, then offer it to Lambert as they place the bottle on the ground. Holding it in, they give it a -very- wobbly spin, and then huff out a breath while the world goes waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Vision blurs, everything goes swimmy, and when Eerie can see again, the bottle's pointing at Marek. "Okay, the three questions for bottle makeouts: Yes/no. Tongue or no. And do you want, like, a kiss, or like, a -kiss-. Like, you want something quick, or you wanna feel it down to your toes and have confusing dreams for three days?" Eerie shows teeth, a bit predatory almost, as they give Marek and appraising once-over.
Marek flashes the returning Eerie a smile and wink. He then giggles at the satyr that's so full of excuses. He whispers, "I'm just flexible," and leaves it at that. Slip gets a few more pets and Marek whispers, "We are a venerable species with many wonderful traditions." Tay gets a fond smile and he tries a peck on their cheek before he prepares for the satyr's arrival. The wolf gives a pleased little growl, utterly at home at a Spring part, both the wolf and the sound he issues. It's warm and lusty and eager.
Marek meets Lambert's kiss, lips barely parted as his own warm lips hit the chef's. His arm wraps around Lambert, pressing tight in as he gives himself to be well and truly kissed by the Lost. He's in no hurry, as Lambert did say making out and not just kissing. A happy little growl escapes as his lips part a little more in offer, the hand along Lambert's back caressing through the sheer material, nails teasing at his back.
Slip straightens when she catches Eerie's approach. Which is significantly later than she might usually due to drugs and distraction and an unexpected limp changing their gait. It is however, before they actually arrive back at the blankets, the darkling studying the new configuration of necromancer as they approach. And settling, mostly, on their eye. "Less than an hour." Sure of it. Nevermind that she didn't actually look at the timer and its settings when she had Tay's phone in hand. She starts to lean toward them, but... No. They're busy. She can wait. She watches, anchored by pettings, a murmur back to Marek that, "I wanna learn all your ways." But her eyes don't leave Eerie. Lips to balloon, fingers on bottle. Her hand goes up. Th question wasn't even for her, but she puts in a bid for, "Three days of confusing dreams, please." Somebody should tell the spring courtier that there's kissing happening right there next to her. At least she's got an ear angled toward them, listening
A peck on the cheek certainly adds to the smile first gathered by the statement of name, by Marek. It's followed by a sidelong peek at the following kiss followed through with. Even if their angle isn't the best to actively watch from, looking to the back of Marek's head for just a moment before Taylor's attention returns to the bottle handed off to Eerie. And the further potential for intersections and collisions between those still conscious enough in their highs to be forging on into the night. And the petting continues for so long as Slip is anchored there, and their lap. Only a little distracted for the huffed nitrous that precedes the spin. And granting a grin for where the bottle lands once more. "My initial read didn't note you being this bold," they tell Eerie, sounding impressed as they prove this quality for a second time.
Lambert's suit _is_ ridiculous, it has to be said. It's a fine silk. He strokes the back of Marek's neck, and he rolls onto him, more or less. He is an agile creature, and he has a broad grin across his face, as he finishes, sucking on his lower lip and parting. Then he pauses and he says to Slip "Ah! Sorry, I hope I haven't sat on you!" Lambert then flicks Marek lightly on the nose and says to him "You _are_ adorable." He moves and he sits back and says "Three days? Incrediable." And his tail flicks rapidly, brightly as he pats Marek on the hand "Mmm. Oh! Wait, who did you get, sir? Madam?" Lambert asks Eerie.
"I am really very, very high," Eerie announes to Slip. "And this guy is very cute. Look at him." They gesture at Marek. "He looks like he should in a wholesome Christian teen romance, doing heterosexual Christian things and raising money for the band trip to D.C. so his girlfriend who is dying of cancer can compete at nationals. I don't care if he's in orgies every second Tuesday, he -looks- like you need to take him by the scruff of the neck and show him a good queer time." Lambert's question has Eerie indicating Marek again. "This fellow. And sir is more appropriate than madame, but neither are really -right-, so. I prefer no honorific unless you just -have- to, and then 'Constable' works fine." They clear their throat, and reiterate, to Marek: "Yes/no, peck or -serious- kiss, and if serious, casual or make-undignified-noises?"
"You're fine, handsome," Slip murmurs in a slight tip toward Lambert which happens to also press her head more fully into Taylor's fingers. Efficiency in leaning. That's what this darkling's been practicing tonight. To Eerie, she notes, wide-eyed, "He is," of Marek's cuteness, following the gesture to, well, look at him. Her lips purse with feigned judgment at how just damn straight-laced he looks, following along with the narrative. "He doooooes," deserve a strong hand on the scruff of his neck to show him a good queer time. Still looking at Marek, her tone changes, the target of her words with it. Now, she's actually talking to him. "You want undignified noises. I want undignified noises." She's almost pleading. Just a little bit.
Marek is slow coming to his senses, every instinct and fiber of his being trying to will that kiss and that weight atop him to continue far, far longer than the moments he gets. He's left panting and red faced, eyes blazing. He might miss a lot during that kiss, but the reiterated questions on kisses definitely gains his attention. His eyes focus on Eerie and he gives a feral grin. He wets his lips and takes a moment to find his breath. Deep breaths! He even takes a moment to swig at the vodka to provide a touch of palate cleansing. "Yes," he finally says. "Serious and..." He really takes a moment to study Eerie. He bites his lower lip, for a moment unsure as to what exactly the final question might mean. One can pray for tentacles! He finally nods and says, "As long as I have a piece of my soul intact after, do your worst." He wets his lips and shifts to be where Eerie wants him to be, very eager to have his second turn at the making out.
Another sideways glance at the shifting of positions that makes the kiss a little more visible, and Taylor attends the moments before parting. The prelude to the following kiss, that Lambert helpfully makes room for in moving back, even before they recognize that Marek is up again. "There is an All American cuteness about him," they say of Marek. They agree about that much. Maybe not the rest. And their compliment in observation of Eerie heard or not, they let it stand. "Undignified noises seems the hotter go to," they agree with a gentle laugh, forming a consensus. And listens for preference in reference, before leaning down to state to Slip, in murmured form, "Going to see if I can get a ride to crash at our mutual friend's place." They mean to land in a bed while the spare room is still an option, even if they brought a sleeping bag.
"Oh, not my -worst-. Just a little." Hopefully someone has taken the balloon from Eerie, because they crawl over to Marek on all fours across the blanket. It's difficult to do a seductive crawl in orange sweatpants, but Eerie -tries-, all hips and head ducked low only to swoop up as they come upon Marek. Eerie's mouth catches Marek's, and both hands come up. Were Eerie's -nails- that long a moment ago? If anyone was paying attention, they really weren't. Long, curved, pointed nails take Marek by the front of the throat and the back of the head at the base of the skull and drag him in for a long, deep kiss with full-body contact and a low sound in Eerie's throat. The Constable lets their nose rub against Marek's in an almost playful, affectionate brush as they lean in very firmly. When the kiss finally ebbs, Eerie draws back as they catch Marek's lower lip in a firm bite, only releasing it when they've tugged Marek just a bit forward in their withdrawal.
Lambert beams at Slip "Thankyou, gorgeous," he says, and he settles back, and then he says "Aww, he's all blithery and cute." He pops his arm behind his head so he can watch the others, and he says "Woo. Sounds dangerous for those of us who have souls." He plops his hands in between his legs and leans forwards, so he can watch, though he now does examine the bottle on the ground "Slip? I think it's your turn," he says, and he claps at Eerie's crawl "Oooh, a lot of commitment. I appreciate the attention to art."
Slip's distracted from the next kiss--and, unfortunately, that seductive orange-assed crawl--by Taylor leaning in, those words tugging all of her attention their way as she twists to get a better look at them. "Rather stay the night here, find a corner to camp out in, raid the buffet when the come down hits, but..." She nods, her gaze meeting theirs. "I'm good to go now. If you'd rather." Waiting for confirmation is interrupted by Lambert drawing her attention again, but she shakes her head. "Think I'm out for the night. Gonna have to find another excuse to kiss Marek later. But this has been... just..." She breathes out a happy sound. "You're all kinda magical." The look she angles toward Eerie might attach an 'especially you' on the constable, but it doesn't find voice before she starts collecting what she doesn't want to leave without: namely, her tin of MDMA and whatever she hasn't yet unpacked from her backpack. That's it, right? The rest she can worry about later.
The kiss of a satyr is something that dreams are made of. Even a werewolf that's a member of a sex magic cult can admit to that. What could potentially top it? A vampire's kiss is something next level. The wolf gives a happy, sultry sort of growl as Eerie comes in for that kiss. His eyes open wide as his neck is grabbed, but then... then it hits. Marek melts into the kiss, giving everything he has to just let that bliss last another moment, another eternity where the world is perfect. The whimpers turn into something deeper and soul-felt as the Kiss washes over him. When the moment and the body contact is lost, Marek bodily shivers, a look of yearning filling his eyes as reality comes crashing back. The chill of reality fills his eyes with tears that he wipes away. His laugh is hoarse as he can only really whisper, "Whoa."
Turning around from the kiss at the announcement that Slip and Taylor are leaving, Eerie notes, "If you need a ride, I've got a designated driver. I don't...sleep around strangers, so Simon's got the van." That swollen eye? It's fine now. And Eerie's nails are back to normal. They seem to remember only belatedly to release Marek's hair. They lean in real quick and deliver another peck. "Don't hate me for kissing and running, but it -is- late. And I've already lost my pajamas."
Lambert claps his hands excitedly as he notes Slip's attitude towards Eerie "Oh, Kai will be _so_ happy," he says "His guess was right!" Nothing helps a Spring feel more Springy. And then he says "Take some of the cheese pastries for hangover food tomorrow - they heat up very easily. Drink plenty of water! Take care of yourself!" He pauses, and he admits "I should probably start helping ensure the food is put away properly. But. I'm brand new to the city, and you guys are _the best_!" He puts both of his hands together and closes his eyes, brilliantly "I was so _worried_. But this is all very nice. I feel like I have people I can chat to!"
Free hand fetches phone from pocket. Taylor is split between watching seductive kiss number two, and idly tapping out a message with one thumb. Other hand still about its caressing task. But it doesn't take long, despite the curiously attended distraction - the message is short but includes an address and some happy emojis. "I'm maybe, like, a little too keen on crashing in a bed, while I have access to one," they admit. Life on the road giving emphasis to such luxuries when they're had. And they part their lips again, meaning to excuse themself, to part, to not take away an option from Slip - but it's not difficult for a wolf of their origin, to read that a Spring makes the choices they want and they just smile instead, with real warmth. And add another line of text for their ride. They nab their sleeping bag and stand as Slip collects their things. And they echo the sentiment, "I'm happy to have met you all. If you don't have my number and want it, feel free to collect it by any. Means. Possible." Just one finger-gun this time, with the other arm tasked with sleeping bag and phone. They'll leave to meet the car outside when Slip has finished collecting. They wave off the offer of a ride, when they're caught within Eerie's span attention again. "Got one on the way. But that's good to know. Future reference. For keeping Spring's momentum going."
Marek smiles at the peck and flops back on his arms with a happy sigh. He's slow to pick up on people leaving, even after Eerie confronts him directly with it. He nods after his eyes slowly find focus again, but then he glances away with a blush. He clears his throat. He stands then to see people out. Taylor gets a bit of a glance when they admit to not always enjoying the comforts of a bed. That doesn't sit well with the Flock. That's a thought to have when he's less... mind-blown.
He waves goodnight and flashes smiles and turns towards the fort where he and his packmate are sleeping. His stops at the entrance and picks up a can of silly string, hiding it behind his back before he slips in and is whispering, "Hud? Are you awake...?" with a barely suppressed giggle.
Slip breathes a quiet, "Yeah," to Marek for his 'whoa.' She knows that feel. Eerie kisses are exceptional. And hers wasn't even on the mouth! She angles a dopey smile to werewolf, happy for him, glad somebody else might have some inkling of understanding about what's got her so very fucked up tonight. Aside from all the drugs. Lambert's appreciation for the way she looks at Eerie inspires a little hint of color to her cheeks, a touch of pink that only brings out the copper undertones of her not-wholly-human skintone, for those who can see it. "I'm planning on crashing Darcy's winnings," she informs the chef. "Can't wait to taste everything." When Taylor takes off with a thanks-but-nah for Eerie's offer of a ride, the darkling shrugs apologetically to the necromancer. And then stares for a few seconds that don't seem nearly so long in her own head. "I really wanna lose pajamas with you sometime." But not toight. Toight, she's on her feet and gathering things, making a point to snag any uncollected winnings belonging to her crowd, to be distributed later. It was a great night, but there are rides waiting, with warm beds at the end. All good things eventually end.
To Slip, Eerie smiles, half their mouth quirked up a bit higher than the other. "We'll see, when we're not so fucking high." Despite having the ride turned down, the Constable begins to pack up their things - although they leave behind a few tabs and the water and gum and other 'keep yourself from dehydrating while high as fuck' supplies.