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Open everybody loves me

Discussion in 'Residences' started by Steve Harrington, Apr 21, 2018.

  1. Prompto Argentum

    Prompto Argentum Final Fantasy

    Posts:
    109
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Waiter
    Race:
    Human(ish)
    Age:
    23
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Good
    Directory:
    link

    Girl-he-still-didn't-have-the-name-of ended up telling about the cutest many-dad story he had ever heard. Prompto smiling to himself with his chin resting on his hand.

    He was tempted to encourage Mr. Beard further with his story about Noct...but he was feeling a bit too drunk to not ramble for an hour about how happy he was that Noct was back. High chance of crying. So, instead, he just nodded along.

    Prompto's wide eyes stared at Mr. Beard as he was casually told off for having a Toilet Brain™. He...hadn't meant it as a joke, t-b-h. He thought the dude was literally making a weird sex-joke that went beyond his comprehension. Petting a monkey at a zoo just...had that vibe, yanno? Sounded like something you'd call something that happened behind a dumpster at three in the morning. Not...that Prompto had ever done any of that. Ever. He just...read things, heard stories, played way too many video games, and watched way-way-way too much TV. So he was informed in the worst way possible.

    And...there was literally a child who admitted to petting a gorilla, and nobody was saying a thing.

    Eh, whatever.

    "Sorry, dude," he held up his hands defensively, "Didn't mean to make it weird. I'll keep my toilet brain in check. I promise," he really couldn't promise that with the amount of alcohol in his system, "Well, I will genuinely try. And...get some water to try to make that happen, my man."

    And so he did.

    A wide grin spread across his face at the squad celebrating eating pizza crust.
    This was the best night ever.
    Prompto held up his own glass with the mock toast over the deliciousness of crust, feeling like he had found his people.

    "Have you guys ever had the crust that's like...garlic bread? They actually add extra shiz to it, to make it even better. Wait...is there pizza here? Someone should order pizza," he took a drink of his water after a quick nod.

    He was starting to regain himself...sorta. That drunk edge was starting to feel less like a slippery slope, and more like he had control over both his mouth and body. Well...at least slightly. A few sips of water wouldn't instantly make him sober, but it was mellowing him out. Prob more of a placebo effect than anything, but he'd take it.

    Prompto really wasn't in the mood to drop more surprise bombs on Noct...cuz hoo-boy there were more.
    Man, they really needed to talk about that shit someday.

    Then the child with a twin/cousin/clone/whatever dropped something about ghost drills on them.

    "I know you prob mean something like a school-drill, but I'm picturing a literal drill that shoots ghosts," he drank more water - the kid going off explaining what it was.

    Wow, the worlds these people came from were wild.

    "Hey...before we do any more - can we go around the room and say names? Cuz I literally know like...nobody's name here. I'm Prompto," he waved a hand to the group, hoping people would follow suit - because his nicknames for everyone were great, but not useful if he...actually wanted to reference them to another living and breathing person.

    Once that was settled, he took a deep breath and thought of yet another one. Yeah, he had gone recently, but nobody else was really throwin' anything out so.
    He'd supply the lackluster life.

    "Never have I ever...slept more than eight hours in a row," a large grin spread over his face, as he glanced over at Noct.


     
  2. Abigail Hobbs

    Abigail Hobbs Hannibal

    Posts:
    205
    Gender:
    Female
    Occupation:
    Student
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    18
    Abigail smiled back to the vet. He had confirmed, in her mind, that he would kill again. Under the circumstances of a war, but still - he wasn't so different from her. He understood that certain actions were necessary for life and freedom.

    "I've made it." Abigail answered about the garlic pizza crust. "Sometimes I even add a little bit of honey and olive oil with the garlic when I make the dough. Honey-garlic's a classic combination. Garlic can work as a topping too as long as you roast the cloves first and chop or slice them well. Or you can make a garlic pesto and brush on it on the dough." She stopped herself from carrying on too much about cooking - there were ghosts to talk about.

    "There are no ghosts were I'm from." She told the 'brothers'. Not literal ones anyway. "Do all the ghosts on your world attack? I get why some people coming back from the dead would suck." The idea of her father being brought to Pandora and back to life is scary enough. Thinking of him returning as a ghost is almost too much to handle. "But there are some people that I'd want to be able to talk to again." Her best friend Marissa and her mom came to mind. Maybe she'd even apologize to her father's victims or own if she had the chance. "Does death change even the good people?" It would make sense. She had died symbolically twice and it changed her both times.

    Abigail grew up using rifles to hunt and more recently, she had been using knives. She struggled to understand the concept of a weapon that destroys clothes. That just seemed strange and ineffective. Then again, if something destroyed her scarf, showed that scar, she'd be impacted emotionally. Maybe that was the intent of the weapon. Take their clothes, the last they had of the living world from them, to demonstrate that they need to move on. Or maybe it impacted ghosts differently than living people. At least the guy getting detention for his father's actions made more sense to her. She was used to children being blamed for the crimes of their fathers.

    "I'm Abigail." She told the group, grateful for the chance to introduce themselves. It felt rude to think of them in descriptive terms only.

    The question about sleep had her staring at her drink, wondering if she should take a sip. "Does time spent in a coma count?" Otherwise, she hadn't. Most nights, her nightmares woke up her before she had anywhere close to eight hours of sleep.

    To distract herself from thinking too much on her coma, she added. "Never have I ever gotten a tattoo." She had considered it as a way to cover her scars. She'd decided it against it because a tattoo might be even more noticeable and the idea of any sharp object, such as a needle, on her neck again was extremely unpleasant.
     
  3. Noctis Lucis Caelum

    Noctis Lucis Caelum Final Fantasy

    Posts:
    113
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Misty Hollow Defender
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    20
    Alignment:
    Lawful Good
    Directory:
    link
    Gone skinny dipping? Well, there was the emergency outdoor baths, which was probably what Prompto was drinking to just then. Or else Prompto had way more fun than Noct ever thought he did. The prince took a drink.

    Passed out under a tree? Noct took a long drink there. He'd passed out under trees, on park benches, in the middle of a council meeting once (the old guys were not impressed). Plus there was that time he'd fallen asleep on a chocobo, only to jerk awake at the last moment when his body had panic-reacted to him starting to tip right off the side of the bird. In short, Noct had fallen asleep just about everywhere.

    In fact, he stifled a yawn with one hand. He'd probably pass out on the couch before the night was done.

    And then it was Prompto's turn again. Crust of pizza? The dark-haired man wrinkled his nose and took another long drink, sighing deeply as he leaned back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other. He was entering into lazy, lethargic drunk territory now. "Gross," he mumbled. Who in their right mind actually liked the crust on pizza? Prompto did, apparently. "You're gross." More of Noct's picky eating right there, and it was sounding like everyone liked their crusty pizza. "You're all gross," he decided in that moment.

    School ghost drills just earned blank or confused stares from, well, pretty much everyone. Noctis included.

    "Noctis," he tacked on as Prompto finally got a round of introductions going. Noct was unlikely to remember most of their names come morning.

    Now Prompto was back with a pointed grin at Noct, and the prince lazily kicked his friend in the shin. Not that it did much with the awkward angle and Noct was taking another drink, cause yeah, Prompto had him there. "Cheater," he mumbled. 8 hours was nothing.

    "Coma doesn't count," he decided, lifting his drink slightly to the girl who asked. Noctis was the expert on the matter, after all. "That should be its own question." Hell, maybe that was a good one. Noctis frowned a moment, head all kinds of fuzzy (he'd been doing really, really badly with this drinking age so far).

    Yay, luckily he didn't have to take a drink for the tattoo question. Though he did find himself reaching for Prompto's left hand and tugging up his wrist, just to show off his bff's star and wrap-around-wrist tattoo to the room. "This guy's got tattoos." Cause he totally had to take a drink for that one.

    "Never have I ever...not been in a coma." He paused as soon as the words were out of his mouth, brow furrowed almost quizzically as he twisted his lips, staring down at his drink, thinking hard. The reveal didn't bug him any -- it was common knowledge back home, after all. Even made the headlines, the big story everybody was talking about all those many years ago. But the words coming out of his mouth didn't sound right. He shook his head, lifting a hand, calling for a pause while he sorted this out. "Waitaminute, I mean...never have I ever....never been in a coma." Stupid negatives. Double negatives. Whatever.
     
  4. Steve Harrington

    Steve Harrington Stranger Things

    Posts:
    94
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    Misty Hollow
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    19

    FEELS JUST LIKE I DON'T TRY
    looks so good i might die

    Oh thank god, it was introductions time. Or was it more drinking time? Steve wasn't really sure because people were introducing themselves and then super cool cocktail guy was getting to his feet for refills, and all Steve really knew was that he should probably quit drinking or he'd be catching up to that blonde kid's level of intoxication. But honestly, where even was the fun in that? So he listened to a few more challenges, drank a few more times, and then finally he grinned across the room, his cheeks definitely just a little bit flushed. "Oh yeah, duh, I'm Steve. I think the posters said that ... but I can't remember. Hi, I'm Steve," he called across the room as he started to climb to his feet, clambering his way over to magical cool guy Eliot.

    It hadn't really sunk in that he could refill his drink with a snap of the fingers, so there he was, holding it out to the guy. "Yup, that's me, the literal 80's kid," he confirmed with a lazy thumbs up. Funny, besides Dustin and Hopper, he hadn't seen a single other person who came from the 80's. Still, this whole party here was keeping him from feeling like a total and complete loner, somehow. At least he'd never been shy. "The hair totally gives it away, that's what everyone keeps saying." Absently, Steve ran his fingers through his hair and then froze, feeling a couple of strands flop out of place, and not in the attractive way. "Shit." Suddenly, his hair wasn't perfection. With a little grimace, his hair started blindly brushing pieces of hair back into place.

    Or possibly more out of place.

    Whatever, he just wanted his drink.

    "Are you from, like ... 3076?" Steve didn't really have anything to go by there, though suddenly he'd forgotten about the game going on just over his shoulder.



     
  5. Twelve Tsuerubu

    Twelve Tsuerubu Zankyou no Terror

    Posts:
    29
    Age:
    17 perhaps
    The answer came from the kid about the ghost drills, he did not seem all too thrilled to be talking about it and Twelve listened with interest before shifting his attention back to the broken stereo which he fiddled with as he simply listened to what was going on around him, noting how the kid's twin seemed more keen on the topic of ghost drills than the main kid himself. Glancing up he offered @Danny Fenton a sympathetic smile before glancing beside him at @Gerold Hirschberg to see how he was reacting to the kids words and noting that the older man seemed to gain the same expression as most their group in that all the worlds they came from were oh so different. The blonde @Prompto Argentum seemed a little more sober now than he had a moment ago, though the guy still seemed on the tipping point, but he was back to making half rational requests, like asking for their names and suddenly Twelve felt nervous.

    He knew he did not have an ordinary name, he knew he had a name that gave a hint at what he was and usually in this situation he would just give a face name but with how much he'd drunk his mind was not thinking that straight. But he listened as Prompto introduced himself and asked the next question, then the girl in the group, @Abigail Hobbs was introducing herself and asking a question mentioning comas. Idly Twelve thought back, he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept a full night, the nightmares and sickness kept him from doing that, but the coma thing she hinted at he wondered if a medically induced sleep counted even if it were not quite a coma. But he said nothing, hoping to pass unnoticed as idly he fiddled with the stereo beside him and then the black haired @Noctis Lucis Caelum was introducing himself.

    The guy seemed on the verge of drunk himself which became especially evident as he asked the next question and Twelve found himself smirking as he jumbled the words before deciding he had to take the leap as he spoke up"As a medically induced sleep type of coma yes..." Taking a sip of his drink, noting how @Steve Harrington was introducing himself, before climbing to his feet and following after @Eliot Waugh. He wondered if he could clamber to his feet and follow just to escape the need to introduce himself, but considering how much he'd drunk that would probably be a mistake so instead he went for pretending he was not called anything out of the ordinary"My name is Twelve..." And adding a wave to the group with an idle hand before asking"Never have I ever, enjoyed a doctors visit..."
     
  6. Gerold Hirschberg

    Gerold Hirschberg Inglourious Basterds

    Posts:
    446
    Gender:
    male
    Occupation:
    Ex-Guerrilla Warrior/Hunter
    Location:
    Morhall
    Race:
    Human and Proud!
    Age:
    20 (+2)
    Hell, you don't have to die for death to change you, sweetheart,” Gerold almost laughed, knocking back two more drinks in response to what @Prompto Argentum and @Noctis Lucis Caelum tossed out there as 'questions'. That @Abigail Hobbs might have just touched a few nerves, but what the fuck, full speed ahead! This was typical party behavior...or so he hoped!


    Sometimes ya just have to watch a bunch of other folks die first, right?


    Was he losing this game? Was he winning…? Either way, he wasn't sure he cared all that much any more. It was good enough to be around more than a few people for the first time in years, and he wasn't about to walk out now.


    Oh yeah, Gerold Hirschberg here, former Private of the U.S. Army...and uh…


    He would have to reach out to steady himself now, 'cause the room was getting just a little bit spinny. Spinny? Was that even a word? Shit, it was now because he said so.


    ...Never have I ever...watched somebody go down in a hail of fuckin' bullets.



    ((this just took a turn for the sad ahhh T.T Let me know if I should edit!))
     
  7. Prompto Argentum

    Prompto Argentum Final Fantasy

    Posts:
    109
    Gender:
    Male
    Occupation:
    Waiter
    Race:
    Human(ish)
    Age:
    23
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Good
    Directory:
    link


    Prompto laughed at Noct's anti-toast - watching as the bff declared them all gross for liking crust.

    "Bro it's literally just crispy bread. Don't be hatin'," he shoved his shoulder slightly, not really surprised. Noct was the pickiest eater he had ever-ever-ever met. He had seen Noct waste perfectly good crusts so many times. And it drove him nuts. It was always tempting to ask to steal those crusts, but...he mentally called himself a pig for even thinking about it. Having lots of issues with his weight, caused the thought to just kinda disappear after that. Woo.

    Yeah, he liked this girl. The amount she was going on about garlic-bread crusted pizza was awesome. She clearly knew what-was-what when it came to cookin' stuff. Or at least some stuff. Prompto, himself, wasn't like...a chef or anything. Far from it, really. He had picked up a few tricks when a certain friend of his lost his sight, and he had to take over as his hands for a tiny-bit.

    "That sounds amazing," it was more of an exhale than words - mind lost in the wonderful world of garlic-bread pizza.

    Once some much-need intros went around, Prompto threw out his own question into the public; Abigail asking a pretty damned good question. Funny part was that Noct would have to drink either way.

    "Uh...hmm," he scratched his chin - finding the faintest-faintest signs of stubble, "Let's go with nah. Comas are scary. I was more going for I have some control over my sleep cycle, yanno?" he took another sip of his water, before shrugging. Noct backing up his train of thought a sec later.

    Prompto was still not sober; far from it really. Just the act of getting water and drinking it was enough to cause his brain to not trip over itself so much. If he stood up and tried to walk around like a normal person, it'd be way-way-way more obvious the actual state he was in. But, thankfully, his booty was rooted onto the seat of the surprisingly comfy couch.

    At Abigail's question, Prompto frowned. Not even a subtle one. Just straight-up frowned. Tattoo? Man, even with Slight Sobriety - TM - he was not ready to take this on.

    Noct, however, seemed beyond ready - announcing to the room that Prompto did, in fact, have tattoos. Even went as far as to grab his friggin' wrist and shove down the strap from his glove and normal wrist-bands to show the more socially acceptable set of tattoos he had. It was a star and a circle of barbed wire; half covered by Prompto's glove, since Noct hadn't shoved it down all the way. Subconsciously he shoved the other hand under him, despite knowing Noct probably didn't know about that one. Well, at least hadn't said anything. Keeping a tattoo covered on the back of your wrist for years, was tricky. There were plenty of instances of accidentally flashing it, but they were yet to have a convo about it. So there was that.

    Prompto offered a weak smile to everyone, even throwing in an uncomfortable laugh for good measure. Technically Noct wasn't wrong. One of those tattoos he did get himself, as sort of a last-ditch effort to reclaim his own body from tattoos he had literally his entire life. The barbed wire was his choice. The star was a logo from something Noct hadn't seen yet in his life.

    So that was fun.

    Then Noct threw his own question into the mix, and Prompto laughed; quickly forgetting about his own problems.
    "So...you're in a coma right now, dude? That actually explains a lot," he grinned, realizing just how wasted Noct was getting. This was beautiful and rare. His words were messy - brow creased in frustration of his own mouth and brain not talking to each other as well as they should. Man, it was tempting to take a picture.

    "I...think drunk-Noct means: Never have I ever lived a life free of a coma. I think," he shoved Noct's shoulder; his own drink untouched.

    While he had been through some stuff, a coma wasn't one of them.

    His eyes moved to the kid who had been trying to fix the stereo - and seemed back at it again.
    "Oh dude...you managed to bridge the gap between two questions. A true legend," he tried to keep it light, realizing medical induced coma sounded intense as hell.

    With the introduction, Prompto nodded. Yeah it was a number, but it could have easily been a nickname, or that was just...normal in his world. It was really hard to be judgey of names in Pandora. Not that he wanted to be in the first place, but he had quickly learned to just roll with it.

    "Doctors are the worst," Prompto agreed, continuing to not drink.

    Mr. Beard who now had a name - Gerold - asked a pretty gnarly question.

    Prompto sighed quietly as he took a sip, not wanting to talk about it - eyes on the back of Steve's head as he flirted with the super-cool-but-kinda-a-jerk drink guy. Cute. Get some.

    Clearing his throat, he realized it was on him to bring the mood back to Fun Land.

    "Never have I ever not said sorry to inanimate objects when accidentally dropping or bumping into them," he smiled, "Just cuz a bookshelf doesn't have feelings, doesn't mean I'm not gonna apologize for bumpin' into it! It's rude!"

    There we go. Mood restored.


     
  8. Abigail Hobbs

    Abigail Hobbs Hannibal

    Posts:
    205
    Gender:
    Female
    Occupation:
    Student
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    18
    "It is amazing. Doesn't always have to be garlic, either. Adding a small amount of beer with the water when you make the dough, or molasses can be really good too." She said to Prompto, then glanced at Noctis. "You can also make crust-less pizzas."

    "That's very true." Abigail commented to Gerold. She had been changed by all the deaths in her life, especially the ones she felt responsible for. Nick Boyle most of all. Killing him had changed everything. "Yeah, sometimes you have to, even when you really don't want to." She murmured sadly. Abigail had seen far more death than she wanted. And she knew she'd see more eventually. It was the trade-off for having the family she wanted with Hannibal.

    Comas didn't count. No sip there, despite the fact that she had very little control over her sleep. She had too many nightmares.

    She tightened her grip on her glass, wondering if her own question had been a bad one. Prompto seemed unhappy with his tattoo. It could be a simple case of regret, or there could be a painful story behind it - a reminder of his past, like her scars were for her. Either way, she felt a twinge of guilt.

    She had been in a coma, so she didn't take a sip for Noctis' turn as she understood it. It must have been the alcohol, because it took her a moment to figure out even with Prompto's explanation.

    The question from Twelve took her a moment as well. She had hated doctors, especially the ones that forced her into support groups, with the exception of Dr. Bloom and Hannibal. They made her time in the psychiatric facility tolerable; she wouldn't have called it enjoyable. Later, when Hannibal had her hidden away and gave her his kind of therapy - it wasn't a visit; she lived with him, in his basement and other hideouts. It was all very complicated and thinking it over had taken too long. No sip for that one either. "Not all doctors are the worst." She said quietly. "A lot of them suck, but not all of them. My Tėtis is a doctor and he's incredible."

    Gerold's question caused her to shake and tears to form in her eyes. She staggered towards the nearest chair, sitting it before she fell down. She had watched her father die and remembered all the shots that it had taken from Will to put him down. Her eyes closed as she brought her glass to her lips and took a very long sip. She tried to keep drinking for several seconds, one for each bullet, until her drink ran out. She opened her eyes and wiped away the few tears that had fallen down her cheeks.

    "I'd like a refill, please." She told Eliot and tried to focus on the game again. She couldn't remember if she'd said sorry when she had dropped and broken Hannibal's teacup. She had been tripping on psilocybin that day; she might have talked to inanimate objects. When her refill arrived, she'd figure out if she needed to take a sip.

    She didn't take another turn. She'd wait until she felt calmer.
     
  9. Eliot Waugh

    Eliot Waugh The Magicians

    Posts:
    36
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Human/Magician
    Age:
    24
    Alignment:
    Chaotic Good
    Directory:
    link

    That whole ghost drill stuff was sure as fuck pretty damn weird - but then again, this was truly the wrong place to define anything as weird.
    When the girl asked him about his refilling-'trick', Eliot found himself - surprisingly enough - not offended as much as amused. He let out a short laugh, the hint of a smug gleam in his eyes accompanying it.
    "I would gladly, but it isn't a trick, sweetie. It's magic."
    And with that, he raised his glass towards the young woman in a sort of cheer, his smile clearly confident but also vaguely appreciative of the fact that she's bothered to ask about it at all in a world as this. It was always .... beautiful, in a way, to find someone fascinated in the smallest acts of magic.

    The game moved on.
    Eliot refilled all requested drinks with little more than a snap of fingers or a short flick of his wrist, giving the ghost-drill-boy a Zombie cocktail, seeing as he's asked for something strong but Eliot found straight drinks too boring for a party.
    While the questions continued, Eliot drank to those he still caught - yup, he's slept 8 hours in a row, and yes, he had indeed gotten a tattoo, and no, he's never been in a coma (though he probably would still have looked fabulous, even in a coma), and yes he had enjoyed a doctor's visit (not a very minor-friendly story though), and then the mood was suddenly dropping and he was more than happy to find the host making his way towards him - it gave him a good opportunity to avoid the question.
    God, where had the nice convo on garlic bread went??

    Steve - who had just conveniently introduced himself and thus spared the magician from making a fool of himself for having forgotten the pretty guy's name - was definitely a good replacement for garlic bread convo though.
    Perhaps he simply hadn't caught that Eliot could have refilled his glass from a distance, sure, but it was much nicer to think that Steve had simply decided to walk over regardless.
    The magician shuffled a tad to the side to allow for space next to him against the wall where he was leaning, should Steve decide to do lean against it, too. Though he was perfectly fine looking right where he was stood now, too.

    Despite not needing to, Eliot accepted the other's glass. But instead of actually taking it into his hand, he easily made it levitate between them with a complex looking position of his fingers which yet came easy to him - after all, he's invested quite some time into learning all the hand gestures which came with spell casting - silent or not.
    Perhaps the smile that was tugging at the corner of his lips was edging too much on a grin, and perhaps he was looking a little too smug about all his little, meaningless magic tricks.
    "You're from a time when music was still, truly good."
    There was a touch of almost-nostalgia in his voice, though he's never even lived in the 80's.

    With a slow turn of the wrist of his free hand, he refilled Steve's glass - slower than those before, making a little, quite unnecessary show of the liquid seeming to appear out of nowhere, rising higher in the glass. Then, he grasped it out of the air to return it to the lovely host.
    And that's what he would have done, if the other's sudden shit wouldn't have caught his attention instead.
    It had been quite gorgeous to watch the other run his fingers through that perfectly imperfect hair, but Steve's upset about having supposedly ruined same hair was equally amusing.
    Yet, Eliot had no interest in watching the other suffer.

    "Hold still."
    With his free hand, he carefully reached for the loose strands of the other's hair, skillfully adjusting them back into place like a fragile painting of ridiculous worth, with the same focus such a task required.
    A soft frown clearly showing how invested Eliot was in fixing this poor man's hair.
    After a moment of consideration, he eventually pulled his hand back, apparently satisfied.
    "There, better."
    Then, he handed Steve his drink with a smile.

    The other's question, however, lured an amused laugh from the magician.
    3076?? Where had he taken that number from?
    And why was he still stupidly cute making such wrong assumptions?
    "Oh no, no. Though sometimes I wish I were - depends on whether there is any worthwhile technology present. No, I'm from 2016. A much less interesting time, I fear."

    When Abigail - yes, he's caught her name, too - called out for a refill, it was perhaps quite lucky she did so, last Eliot would have wound up saying something possibly-not-quite-appropriate to the pretty host there.
    The flash of a smile he's prepared upon looking towards her, slipped the moment he caught the girl wiping tears from her cheeks - he's skipped the last question, but she apparently hadn't. If that was what this was about at all.
    "Don't cry, dear. You are supposed to be having fun - here, I hope you'll like it."
    With a vaguely complex looking hand gesture, he refilled Abigail's glass with a cocktail more colorful than before even. It was made of layers, it seemed, colors melting into each other and at the surface of it all, there was edible glitter, slowly sinking into the rest of the colorful liquid.
    If there was one thing he didn't want, then it was for anyone to be sad on a party he was trying to save.



     
    #69 Eliot Waugh, Jul 9, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 9, 2018
  10. Steve Harrington

    Steve Harrington Stranger Things

    Posts:
    94
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    Misty Hollow
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    19

    FEELS JUST LIKE I DON'T TRY
    looks so good i might die

    Jesus fucking Christ, this was a dreary crowd. First the test tube baby thing, then the parents thing, now they were talking about death, and-- fuck, this was a party, did these people seriously not know how to party? The only thing that was saving this was that half of them were totally drunk, but then again, maybe they were just all really fucking sad drunks. How had he gotten the house full of really fucking sad drunks? Maybe that was half the reason he was over there talking to the drink guy. Talking to, not flirting with, like a certain drunk blonde guy seemed to think. Steve had a girlfriend. Except Steve didn't actually have a girlfriend, Steve was just so drunk that he couldn't stop thinking about how the second Nancy got here and saw him, she'd fall head over heels because there was no Jonathan to sweep her off her feet.

    Shit, did that make him the sloppy seconds?

    Okay, maybe he didn't have a girlfriend. But he didn't swing that way either. And besides that, he was more than just a little oblivious to the crazy obvious flirting Eliot was doing, though it was equally possible that had more to do with the fact that Steve was now openly gaping at the empty glass that was literally hovering in the air between them like magic. Probably because it was literally magic. Sober Steve might've been a little freaked out like he'd been freaked out by magic in the past, or maybe he was used to it by now. He'd been sober when Eliot had fixed the music, however you could explain that, which had basically saved the party. Sort of. Now it was just getting depressing.

    Eliot said something about good music and Steve obliviously nodded his head, his dark eyes watching in a trance as he slowly refilled his glass with a liquid that had appeared out of nowhere. He was so distracted by the show that he'd stopped the hair fixing process, which the other man quickly picked right back up on again. "Uh-- ... Uh, thanks," he murmured, clearly at a loss for words as he slowly took the glass from him. Although his body language was casual as he leaned against that wall, Steve was subtly eyeing his glass, gaze flicking briefly toward Eliot and then back again like he was suspecting some kind of science-based explanation, but there were no hidden ... whatevers. Shit, he didn't even know what he was looking for. Nope, it had apparently seriously been magic.

    "2016 isn't interesting? Sounds fake," he murmured with a grin as he finally took a sip from his glass. It tasted the same as it had before despite the show he'd made of it, so he grew more comfortable with the process of getting even more drunk with it. But then mention of someone crying pulled him back to the reality of the party again and by then, Steve had had enough.

    "Okay, you people are getting real depressing, have you ever been to a party before? Where's the dancing?!" Steve pushed away from the wall, a grin on his face that was less judgmental of the group and more eager to get the spirits back up again. Waving a hand toward the ceiling like there was some mystical being up there that could turn up the music, he started bobbing rhythmically to the music. How did magic even work? Should he have been looking at Eliot? "Turn up the music, I wanna see everyone up and moving!"




     
  11. Twelve Tsuerubu

    Twelve Tsuerubu Zankyou no Terror

    Posts:
    29
    Age:
    17 perhaps
    When @Prompto Argentum responded to his words about the coma he had grinned at the guy, he was fast deciding he liked the blonde, he even thought his dark haired companion @Noctis Lucis Caelum was rather cool but then he remembered Nine's words back in his own world about getting attached. Even so he could not help but feel grateful towards most of the group for not reacting to his name like he was a complete weirdo. He turned his head towards @Abigail Hobbs as she responded to his one about not all doctors being bad, his hazel eyes examined the woman as she spoke and he thought on her words. He supposed their were decent doctors out there somewhere, just not any he'd had the pleasure to meet, no to doctors he was just a piece of meat to be experimented with.

    He didn't say anything though, he kept his own council and then in that moment @Gerold Hirschberg spoke up in what seemed a drunken fashion beside him with a question which had an impact on all those around him. He saw the woman who'd spoken up in defence of doctors seemingly collapse in on herself, he saw something shift in Prompto's eyes and yet he himself, no reaction. He'd seen people get shot down, he'd been shot at himself but he'd spent most of his early years of his life watching his friends die a slow painful death from the drugs they were being pumped full of, the same death that lay ahead for him, going down in a hail of gunfire in his mind was a much nicer, much faster way to go.

    Quite casually he sipped at his drink, unaffected though he did watch Abigail with a raised almost concerned brow as she went to get a refill from @Eliot Waugh and then a moment later @Steve Harrington was there, attempting to save his party. Twelve looked up at the older boy as he mentioned dancing, an uncertain look on his face, how did one dance when at a party? Carefully he shifted in his spot, glancing at the others uncertainly before gathering up the broken stereo and moving to the edge of the room to put it out of the way. Before returning to the group, bending to pick up his two drinks and deciding from the videos he'd seen that he might need to be a little more drunk for him to be wild enough to dance like people in a party dance.

    So quite casually he tossed back the remnants of the beer Gerold had originally got him, leaving him with just the cocktail to drink and offering Steve a smirk saying"Put on something we could bust a move to and perhaps then we'ed be up for dancing." His voice was light, meant to indicate he was willing to do as Steve was suggesting with the dancing, so long as the music was a little more dancey than what was not on in the background. Casually he crunched the beer can up and glanced in the direction of the bin.
     
  12. Gerold Hirschberg

    Gerold Hirschberg Inglourious Basterds

    Posts:
    446
    Gender:
    male
    Occupation:
    Ex-Guerrilla Warrior/Hunter
    Location:
    Morhall
    Race:
    Human and Proud!
    Age:
    20 (+2)
    Well, fuck-a-duck...


    As drunk as he'd let himself become, Gerold still felt pretty damned stupid after his attempt at finding something in common with other people only managed to hurt the lone lady's feelings.


    Or emotions, or spirit, or all of the above no thanks to his current lack of a 'filter'.



    ...Congratulations, Hershey, you've officially gone off the rails…



    He couldn't help but let out a low laugh over this, considering he just might have put poor Harrington on the defensive without a second thought. Did this mean he was well on his way to getting kicked out like Chanel had with her lousy behavior?


    ...Okay. Just…get your sorry ass over to the magic guy, and let bygones be bygones...or whatever.


    Maybe not...if the host's encouraging suggestion to start up a little dancing had anything to do with it, of course. He could still make a few people laugh tonight over his clumsy attempt at the Lindy Hop, as opposed to another round of accidental mourning.


    First things first, though, he could probably use another drink.


    Hey, bartender...you're a smart guy, right?


    With this thought in mind, he managed to slip through the crowd without falling down, after which he reached the magic fellow's counter with a slightly nervous look in his eyes.


    I uh...wanted to see if you had anythin' that won't make me talk like an idiot for a while…?


    [ @Eliot Waugh @Abigail Hobbs @Steve Harrington @Twelve Tsuerubu ]
     
  13. Danny Fenton

    Danny Fenton Danny Phantom

    Posts:
    311
    Gender:
    Male
    Race:
    Halfa
    Age:
    16
    Alignment:
    Neutral Good
    Directory:
    link
    The drunk blond's comment, Prompto as he later introduced himself, about a drill that shoots ghosts sent shivers down Danny's spine. He wasn't wrong. That was kind of the problem. Super was too engrossed in his story to actually notice. Either that or he didn't care.

    Abigail's question about all ghosts made Danny sit up. "Not all ghosts. They aren't inherently evil like my parents think. Some just kind of want to be left alone. Unfortunately, most of the ghosts who get through the ghost portal aren't really of the friendly variety. More the 'take over the world' kind."

    "That's why we stop them!" Super declared, putting a foot on Danny's chair as he struck a pose and nearly knocking Danny off in the process. As it was, Danny had to duck to avoid Super's elbow. "A hero's destiny is to dash the dastardly deeds of the diabolical!"

    Finally, introductions went around. "I'm Danny Fenton" Danny said, before gesturing to the still posing Super. "and this is-"

    "Danny Phantom! Superhero and ghostly protector of Pandora." Super cut in. Danny rolled his eyes.

    "Call him Super. Less confusing that way." Danny added, finally shoving Super off of his chair.

    The game continued and Danny found himself taking more drinks. Thankfully, his new drink was just as palatable as the old one. The red color was pretty cool too. Danny had no idea what it was, but he was glad for it. Yes. He'd slept for more than eight hours. Regularly now that he didn't have to worry about school. He didn't have to drink for the tattoo thankfully. Danny had no idea if he needed to drink for Noctis' confusing coma question, even with Prompto clarifying, so he did anyways to make up for the few he missed earlier. Twelve mentioned enjoying Doctor's visits and while Danny couldn't say he hated them as much as Tucker, he didn't really like them either. So, no drink there.

    Gerold's thing about watching someone go down in a hail of bullets gave Danny pause. He cocked his head to the side, trying to think if he'd seen it happen to anyone. Well... it happened to him on a few occasions. They weren't bullets though. Mostly anti-ghost weaponry. That wasn't really watching though.

    Before Danny could make up his mind whether to drink or not, he noticed Abigail crying. Danny climbed out of his seat, clearly not drunk despite everything he'd already imbibed. Awkwardly, he made his way over to her. A lot of people were talking about dancing, clearly trying to change the mood. "Hey." Danny said, rubbing his hand on his neck as he tried to come up with something. Somehow, he didn't think more alcohol was the solution. "Uh... I know you don't really know me, but if you want to talk we can go find somewhere quiet. I'm a pretty good listener. You don't have to though! Uh... maybe we can dance? If you want? Sorry. I'm not really good at this stuff."
     
  14. Abigail Hobbs

    Abigail Hobbs Hannibal

    Posts:
    205
    Gender:
    Female
    Occupation:
    Student
    Race:
    Human
    Age:
    18
    Abigail was too caught up in her own thoughts to ask more questions about magic, ghosts or why the two Dannys had the same first and last names and what exactly was the relationship was between the two.

    She did her best to work up a smile to hide any lingering sadness. She didn't want to bring down the party and Eliot was trying so hard to cheer her with his magical, complex and amazing drink. "Thank you. It's beautiful." She told him and stared at it for a moment, taking in all the colours and the glitter, before drinking from it. Not for any part of the game, she simply wanted to chase away the bad memories. "And it tastes wonderful."

    Abigail considered making an apology or offering an explanation for her tears, but decided it was best to try to move on to a lighter mood. Steve had mentioned dancing and was already moving to the music. "Anything with a beat can be danced to." She said with a smile and a glance to Twelve. Between her teenage dancing before the shrike and Hannibal's classical dance lessons, she had learned that very well.

    A moment later, Danny was there for her with an invitation to talk or join in the dancing. He was doing well; she simply couldn't talk about her past in any detail, especially at a party. She might have shared too much already. "I'd love to dance." She told Danny and stood from her chair. She found a spot on the nearest table to set her drink down, using a coaster if one was nearby. No need to find a way to mark the glass as hers. The drink was unique. "C'mon." She took Danny's hand and gently tugged him toward a good spot for dancing. Letting go of his hand, she took a moment to listen to the beat. She started dancing slowly, first tapping her foot, then shuffling her feet and swaying her hips to the music.