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Post by ★ lysander on Apr 18, 2016 2:34:56 GMT
Man, parties fucking blew as far as Dave was concerned. It wasn't that he hated them exactly; there as a mild amusement to be found in observing other people drinking themselves silly as he stood at the edge of the room, closer to the walls, but he never really felt at home in a crowd. Most people would've never guessed it, but alas, the great, close to fucking legendary Dave Strider (or better known by his online pseudonym, timewaveGhostware, under which he produced countless viral vaporware albums,) was not all that much of a socialite. Something he learned about himself in highschool was that he was an incredibly socially awkward person. It took him years to work himself off his rambling habit, and many more to put the clamp down on his incessant self-talk. God, that really grinded his gears. He never quite understood what was so bad about a chap voicing his thoughts out loud. Who says you need a partner to have a conversation? Some old white men sitting in leather chairs somewhere up in DC? Shit. People pay to listen to them talk to themselves. That's what taxes are for. Still, the current deplorable state of the US has little to do with Dave's current predicament. He was still very much at a party, not talking to anyone in particular, and the urge to ditch and go back to his room seemed to increase by the second. In fact, he was supposed to arrive here fashionably late with Starbucks with a certain someone in tow, but ever since he parted ways with his date in front of their dorm, he'd been awkwardly shuffling around, closer and closer to the corner where he could hear himself think. Okay, maybe he could do something with this, he thought. He squinted at the wall, considering the thematic possibilities he could squeeze out of his situation. A boy, standing alone at a party. There's so many ways for something so innocuously simple to go horribly wrong. Like, shit, a dude could get his drink laced and find himself in the middle of the Congo 12 hours later, tied down to a stake and all the locals around him are clamoring for a sacrifice for the indigenous god JOHN CENA, who is not a real person in this universe but one of those strange cargo cult gods brought to life thanks to the US's fucked up involvement in foreign affairs. The sad part about that is that it's probably more probable than you think. It'd probably make a good movie. Dave takes another gulp of beer, making a face at the taste. If something interesting doesn't happen in the next half hour, he's out. |
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Post by ★ lysander on Apr 18, 2016 2:58:14 GMT
Man, parties fucking rocked as far as Jonah was concerned. It wasn't that he was dying to be the life of the party (titledrop?  ) but he sure did look forward to being the slut of the party. Which, for all intents and purposes, was exactly what he came here to do. He made sure his clothes were a touch more provocative than usual— a sheer black top, loose and translucent so everyone could see the goods (c;) and pink shorts. Yes. Pink shorts. Very cute ones that definitely made a statement of his ass. Also worn to show off the goods. And with that, he wore his favorite black heeled boots which stopped just above his ankle for maximum leg exposure. Ah, yes. It was nice to be hot. And free. And gay. In other words, it was nice to be him. At least when he wasn't looking at his steadily dropping GPA. Jonah barely made it two steps into the room when he was being pulled into a hug by one of his many girlfriends. A girl exclaimed his name and clasped his hands like they'd been friends for ages, when in truth Jonah went drinking with her just last week. She got so drunk she accidentally spilled her entire life story onto Jonah's favorite jacket, and she apologized profusely for ruining such an expensive coat. "Oh my god," she breathed. Jonah could smell the alcohol on her. "I'm SO sorry about your coat AGAIN, again I'm so FUCKING SORRY Jonah, god I'm such a miserable little b—" "Jacqueline," Jonah said firmly, pressing his finger to her mouth. "It's. O. Kay. Please. Don't. Worry. About. It." Another dry sob. It might be better for Jacky if she laid off the margaritas, he thought. After another hour of conversing and alcohol-induced confessions and laughs that smelled of vodka, Jonah managed to sneak off to the side for a little breather. He did love to socialize. He did love parties. But even he needed a little break once in a while. Plus, with all his girlfriends hoarding him, how was he supposed to land a dick to take home with him tonight? He shrugged a little at the thought, sitting down on the couch next to a couple girls making out. The dicks will come to him in time. |
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acacius
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Post by acacius on Apr 18, 2016 3:26:11 GMT
Nothing ever goes the way he planned it. Parker had planned to just stay on his laptop the whole night, maybe finish up some work, but here he was, at a party. It didn't bother him much that he was here, this is usually how things go now and days. He was not in the most modest of clothing; wearing some over washed pair of shorts and a Nike tank top. He looked pretty trashy, but hey, he was comfortable.
The blonde held his bottle of beer in his hand, standing near the door so he could check out whoever entered. His sea blue eyes scanned the room, finding nothing particularly interesting, nothing about this party was actually interesting. Parker began to reconsider why he even showed up, nobody was socializing with him and it's not his style to strike up conversation. All of the hotties were hammered and already rubbing themselves all over some other random stranger.
Sometimes he'd greet those who entered, only to check out their ass as they smiled and walked inside. Honestly the best butt he saw wasn't even that great. It was something that would be nice to look at but that's about it. It was sad how many flat asses walked through the door.
He took a long drink from his beer, finishing it off. Shaking his head clear, he walked away from the wall and moving his way towards a crowd, only to push past them to reach the liquor table. The cheap vodka and knock-off wine bottles were the only cool thing at the party. "Lame ass party, who's idea was this anyway..." Parker grumbled to himself as he poured a big, red cup of tequila that was meant for the small shot glasses.
Parker figured that if nobody was gonna entertain him, he'd find something entertaining at the bottom of the cup; hopefully a nice male to keep him up through the night. Though it was highly unlikely, the guy might as well dream and drink while he was here.
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milkmold
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Post by milkmold on Apr 18, 2016 6:03:01 GMT
@jonah
It was nearing the end of the year, and she was fucking done. So done, she was sprawled on a shitty couch drinking shitty beer at a shitty party macking on her shitty friend. Well, friend might not be the greatest descriptor, but as previously stated, Nadine was fucking done. Go pester someone else if you want accurate social ties. Then someone decided to risk sitting on the couch next to their violent kissing, and Nadine tore away to see if they would be more interesting than her clutching friend. Oh,was that..? Yes, the gay was unmistakable. Was it last semester she'd had that English class with him? Fuck, what was his name. It was a semester ago, she shouldn't be this.. Oh, right, alcohol. Disgusting. Nadine pushed Twee off her as she went back in to continue chewing on Nadine, and she lurched back with a confused scowl. Nadine twisted and put her half empty cup on the ground and pushed it with her foot as far away from herself as possible, further dislodging Twee, who made an angry grumble, which after some effort turned into "What are you doing?" Nadine shot back a scowl. "I'm done drinking, so get your drunk ass off me. Come back later if you can't find anyone else to grope and see if I'm in the mood." Twee's confused scowl continued uninterrupted as she slid to the side off Nadine's lap. She shakily stood, and flipped Nadine off as she slurred, "This is why I fuckin hate you, you uppity.. uppity.. fuck." Twee stumbled off, presumably to get even more drunk so she could vomit all over Nadine later. Yeah, at least Nadine wasn't as revoltingly wasted as that stumbling thing. Straightening her glasses and herself, she turned her tired gaze to the mystery gay. "What was your name again." Jeremiah. It was definitely Jeremiah. If she was wrong, she'd swear off alcohol until she got her internship applications back.
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Post by queenmarceline on Apr 18, 2016 19:34:56 GMT
Marceline hated parties with a burning passion that outmatched the sun. It was much too loud, there were far too many people. She detested it. The only reason she had come in the first place was because Inna needed a ‘responsible’ adult to drive her home after she got drunk off her ass. By all things holy if she got sick in her truck again there’d be hell to pay. She loved her dirk friend of course but that didn't keep her from wondering what would have happened if she had made her choices for herself. Would she be a word class string musician? Probably but being the woman she was she gave that all up to give her possible future bride a good chance in life.
Speaking of said girlfriend she hadn't seen her since she stepped through the doors. As soon as the wooden barriers were out of the way Inna was gone and mingling in a clearly buzzed state. Marceline would feel her hands trembling more and more each time she was bumped or grabbed by some drunk in an attempt to pop a feel. The only thing keeping her out of a full blown anxiety attack was matching the notes of the songs to where they would be had she brought her cello or at the very least her violin.
The room reeked of alcohol and over applied perfume as she hastily made her way towards a currently unoccupied corner to wait this newfound social trauma out. The green haired woman could only hope and pray to whatever God was listening that it’d be all over soon. She would much rather be in the performance hall or even her room with her music turned up as loud as possible.
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milkmold
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Post by milkmold on Apr 22, 2016 2:26:00 GMT
In hindsight, she really should have seen this coming. Maybe not this, right here, right now, but something along the lines of her standing on the toilet tank with her head and shoulders out a second story window should have been an obvious outcome. Not that she was too worried about her past stupidity, what was more important now was her ability to correctly guess if she would get herself stuck in the window or land on her head or whatever. Which, in theory, should be as obvious as her present state should be to her past self, but Oz had already proven her shit ability at predicting simple series of events.
Oz peered through strands of hair quickly unraveling from her messy bun and muttered, "Huh, small party she said. This is way more than ten people. She was just trying to be nice, though, but ugh." She took a hand from the window and pushed her hair back. "No, no, it's fine, I let before anything stupid happened... Mm, I still got a headache, though, these people.."
She'd been in the bathroom, what, thirty minutes now? An hour? Who was Oz to say, time honestly did as it pleased. She had escaped from the hellish loud of the party at absurd o'clock into the gleaming, or, uh, less than gleaming maybe, who the fuck knew what was on the shower curtain, respite that welcomed all. Or, well, most. Probably more when she wasn't already in there. Anyways, the bathroom was here for her now with open arms and that's all anyone could really ask for. And now, as she looked at the ground through a veil of booze, it really looked quite welcoming as well. She stood on her tip toes and gave a wriggle. Just.. Gotta..
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Post by ★ lysander on May 3, 2016 10:22:29 GMT
Well. Here he was. Sitting uncomfortably at a counter in some stranger's dorm next to a bunch of other strangers. Keith was definitely not in his element. Someone gave him a red solo cup of alcohol and he took it, if only to be nice, but... Keith didn't drink. Besides the fact that he was underaged, he also just... did not feel a need to get drunk like everyone else here apparently did. In fact, he wondered how he got roped into attending this party in the first place. He'd much rather be out somewhere else, away from this crowd, somewhere free and open, but one of his classmates texted him the invite, and, well. At the time, a party sounded a lot better than studying for finals, but now that he was actually here, Keith was starting to reconsider. It wasn't that he disliked people, it was just... he never was into the whole party scene. He'd heard horror stories of the strange shit college kids did when they were drunk and he vowed at a young age that he'd never become one of those. Besides. He rather liked his freedom, independence, and alone time. And control. Yes. He liked to be in control of his body as much as possible. Keith looked around, scanning the scene. He knew some of the faces here— Jonah, for example, who was in one of his general classes this semester. He'd also seen that Dave guy around if only because he was more or less notorious for being quirky, eccentric, and kind of hilarious. There were a few other faces he couldn't put names to. Then— oh. Someone he knew from orchestra was in here. Keith waved the kid down, putting down the red solo cup. "Yo, Lucz." He'd seen the guy almost daily for a while now. In fact, twice a day. They had an english class together and sat in the same area, which meant in-class discussions inevitably pit them together. Keith didn't know him too well, but well enough to call him an acquaintance. And right now, Lucz looked very, very uncomfortable. "You don't look like you wanna be here either, ha."
ooc: i just tossed him in so i hope thts ok, let me kno if u wanna do sth else milkmold |
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acacius
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Post by acacius on May 3, 2016 11:53:44 GMT
Inna was never invited to parties, though that doesn't mean she doesn't show up. This particular party was something that she knew she had to attend, not only was there gonna be booze but it would be a great way to crack open her girlfriend, Marceline's shell. Also, she was going to be her own personal driver if she gets too out of control. This was payment for enrolling her into college, if it wasn't for Marceline, Inna would have never set foot on a campus after high school.
As soon as they arrived, Inna was swept away by a crowd that led straight to the twisted punch bowl. Her other half was off somewhere, probably standing awkwardly. After taking a few rather large gulps from her solo cup, she figured that she'd better locate her girlfriend/ride. Not that she wanted to go home already, just to make sure she was't crying or something. The ginger haired girl passed through gross straight couples and gossiping girls. Occasionally she'd take another drink of the punch but majority of the time she was looking.
Eventually, Inna spotted a familiar face and practically shoved her way over. "Marcey!" She exclaimed and almost tripped over herself, she wasn't drunk enough to be tripping but she was clumsy enough for anything. "What the hell are you doin'? At parties you're not supposed to stand stiff like that. No, no, you gotta dance..." Her voice was low and purposefully deep sounding, she then began to move to the music and brought out the jazz hands.
More convincing moves were in order to bring out the other girls party animal. "Don't make me bring out the disco charade, Marcey!" Inna teased and readied her boogie hand.
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milkmold
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Post by milkmold on May 3, 2016 19:11:11 GMT
Lucz had been at the party.. Pretty much since the instant it had begun. Not that he'd actually been asked directly to come, he'd been a tangential invite to the group of sophomores in his linear algebra class he'd been hanging around. And it wasn't even that he was that into parties in general, this was the first he'd even ever been to. And honestly, he wasn't doing too well; he was too distracted to keep up a conversation with any of the people who had taken pity on him and tried to talk to him. Too much glancing over their shoulder to scan the crowd behind them to properly engage with them. It had to creep them out.
If he was being honest with himself, Lucz had only come looking for someone. A someone he'd seen a few times at the fringes of the room where grungy wall met grungier carpet with tacky band posters haloing his head crowned with wild, wavy hair, splatters of freckles just visible in the dim light of the room..
But what was he supposed to say? Oh, hey, fancy meeting you here, I only came because I heard you'd be here and basically followed you here cuz I'm a huge creep, what a coincidence!
Just thinking about it made Lucz's heart rate skyrocket. Damn. Fuck. Combination cursing, duck! Which basically was really how he felt. Awkward and not where it was supposed to be. Duck.
Which, as it happened, was exactly what slipped out of his mouth when Keith not only noticed him, but also waved him over, started a conversation, and confirmed he knew Lucz's name. Which shouldn't really be a surprise since he talked with Keith basically every English class. But.
"Duck," he murmured. Except not as quietly as one would hope a murmur to be. Lucz flushed. Even more than he would have anyway. He didn't cry though, which was the important thing here, really.
"H-ha, yeah, you know. You go out and then realize you had no idea what you were getting yourself into the instant it's too late." And at that point, the only thing you can do is embarrass yourself, continuously and with utter devastation.
Lucz took a quick, almost dry sip from his cup as he floundered for a topic of conversation. Because, obviously, he had to continue embarrassing himself now that Keith had got the ball rolling.
"So, uh, how's your final essay going? You know, for English."
Yikes. Lucz bit his lip as the last syllable tumbled out of his mouth. School was literally the last goddamn thing he'd wanted to ask about, but here he was. Rolling down the hill of embarrassment. He took another tight sip of nasty beer. Maybe these drunkass upperclassmen had the right idea.
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Post by queenmarceline on May 3, 2016 19:44:17 GMT
Marceline bites back a shrill yelp at the sudden intrusion of her girlfriend's voice piercing through the crowd like an air horn. Why was she dating her again? Was five years of this shit not enough? Apparently not considering she was moving towards the soon to be babbling drunk. Smirking a bit with a light scoff the green haired girl runs her fingers through her hair, swinging her hips along with the beat as opposed to her very uncoordinated lover.
Next to Inna even she was the eptimom of grace. Her years of musical training had surely contributed to this as well; she was a musician, music was her element. Winking and batting her smoked eyes she pulls off her best leaving her in her black high waisted shorts and a halter top exposing her bellybutton piercing. She usually didn't like showing off but if it got Inna to shut up and maybe get drunk faster so she could go home it was well worth it.
"Put the hands away, I'm sure there are much better uses for them later if you know what I mean~" Mars purrs with a wink. She wasn't planning on doing anything but it was fun to see Inna flustered. "Just go drink and be merry, don't worry about me."
~~~
Kaz loved parties, the music, the people, it was perfect. The only downside was the excess of alcohol. It was so deliciously tempting. She'd already downed five glasses in less than two hours and boy was she feeling it. Her senses were on overdrive and her stomach was starting to churn to the bass. This was so not enjoyable. Sighing heavily she runs a hand over the front of her dress and ducks into the bathroom. No one else was in- oh my god who does that fine ass belong to?! "Get yourself stuck gorgeous?~" She purrs, voice low, one could almost hear the very look of desire in her eyes.
"The name's Kaz and might I say your butt looks fantastic in that." The young woman teases as she twists a few screws on the window frame loosening the screws just enough for Oz to slide free. She was an architecture major, if she couldn't fix this no one could. "There, all better. You are aware there was a door right over there. Right?"
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Post by ★ lysander on May 4, 2016 6:27:23 GMT
@ Lucz
Wow. If Keith thought he was out of his element, Lucz wasn't even on the periodic table. It made sense though; Lucz never struck him as a party-going type of guy, and in all honesty, he was a little surprised to see him here. "Well," he started, scratching his cheek a little thoughtfully. "I haven't really started, but I skimmed over the last couple chapters of the book to make sure I, like... y'know. Got it."
He laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. Keith fell asleep in english more often than not. And, really, it wasn't his or anyone's fault that english was his least favorite subject. But god. God. Keith could care less about whatever the hell Voltaire or Proust wrote in whatever fucking century they came from— as long as it wasn't here and now, Keith couldn't find the significance in trying to study it.
"But hey, at least I'm... kinda passing. I mean. I have a C, but. Y'know. I just need the credit."
He poked his solo cup a little before passing it Lucz's way. "You wanna take this and ditch with me? I don't drink, and... no offense, but you look so uncomfortable."
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milkmold
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Post by milkmold on May 5, 2016 2:12:59 GMT
@ Kaz
Oz froze mid-wriggle. Oh god, had she not locked the door? Doors lock, bathroom doors lock, that’s what they did. Had the party driven her loopy enough to forget to do the one thing bathroom doors actually did?
She unfroze with a violent attempt at a reverse wriggle, but. Oh. Oh dear. Her shoulders were stuck in a window, and she was standing on the back of a toilet and now someone was also in the bathroom who probably wanted to use it because if bathroom doors are for locking one could hardly limit bathrooms to keeping other people out, the door already filled that crucial ecological niche and the bathroom was left to fulfill actual use-
Oh dear. And now the person here to force the bathroom into its actual use was making fun of her. She gave an uncomfortable huff and a halfhearted squirm, before letting herself flop over, arms and head hanging out the half-open window despondently.
Until the person.. Kaz? Came over to help..?
Oz slid out from between the now-loosened window pane to stand solidly on the toilet back- which probably had an actual name, she should find that out later because just calling it the toilet back felt pretty rude, as if it wasn’t its own thing- and she looked down to the floor and felt the world teeter perilously.
All the blood that had drifted to her head as she had hung out the window suddenly crashed back at gravity’s call. Oz’s vision faded to grey static as the world spun- she threw out a hand to find something, anything to stabilize herself with as she stumbled off the edge of the toilet back and pitched forward.
And she hadn’t even managed to introduce herself. Oh, dear.
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milkmold
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Post by milkmold on May 5, 2016 7:01:36 GMT
@ Keith
Lucz blinked at the question, caught entirely off guard. This is what happened in movies, right? The love interest got the person they liked alone and then... In all the little slice of life movies, the romances.. Not that he ever really watched those, just when no Star Trek reruns were on the scifi channel and no one else was home. Star Trek had much more interesting and subtle romances, anyways..
Lucz realized at this point he'd left Keith hanging for who knows how long as he mulled over fiction and stared at Keith. Who seemed to be holding out his cup to Lucz. He took Keith's cup gingerly, and shot an accusatory look at his own- he totally wasn't this much of a mess usually. Two-thirds of his first cup of alcohol glistened innocently back at him.
"Yes! Er, yes. I mean, I'd pretty much got what I'd come for, seen the sights, talked the talks- or, uh, attempted to talk to people might be a better word- anyways, leaving sounds fun." He felt a blush beginning to creep into his face, and looked away from Keith, back down to their cups. "I should find a trash or something first.."
He stood on his tip toes to peer over the crowd, searching for a trash can- not that he really needed to be any taller, he could easily see over most people.
"There should be one in the kitchen," he looked back down at Keith- he'd never really noticed how short Keith was, Keith'd always seemed taller for some reason, but Lucz definitely had to look down at Keith..
"Uh, we can pass by there as we.. Go."
He motioned towards the kitchen with Keith's still-full cup, almost sloshing it out of the cup, then started through the crowd, towards the hopeful home of the desired trash can.
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) but he sure did look forward to being the slut of the party. Which, for all intents and purposes, was exactly what he came here to do. He made sure his clothes were a touch more provocative than usual— a sheer black top, loose and translucent so everyone could see the goods (c;) and pink shorts. Yes. Pink shorts. Very cute ones that definitely made a statement of his ass. Also worn to show off the goods. And with that, he wore his favorite black heeled boots which stopped just above his ankle for maximum leg exposure.
