fjordicswagger | Tamsin's House of Sharp Things And Presently Not Enough Alcohol, Thursday Evening

For a couple of minutes, Tamsin had contemplated the idea of just opening up Town Hall for the party, but... what would be the point in that? People were fired up on hormones, people wanted to get laid, you needed a space small enough to get 'em close together. So to speak.

Also, this way she got free booze out of the deal, so-- win win.

She'd hung the black sheets back in front of the large store windows (partly to keep the light out, partly so it was slightly less obvious the house was technically a shop she was technically maybe squatting in). She'd tossed a ton of pillows and an old mattress on the floor, since she didn't actually have a sofa, per sé. The rooms upstairs were... well, okay, they were rooms.

And there was a table for incoming booze. With solo cups. Of course.

Perfect. Time for a party. If anyone had seen the posters...

[[ ocd ~~incoming...~~ up! adults only party is a go! eta: i should probably note browse responsibly, since there might be hints of nsfw in the comments at some point, i have no idea how this post will roll ]]

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"...no." Not changing his mind. "I think I tired him out over the weekend."

"Apparently she's from a world full of acid flashback ponies?" Tamsin said. She shrugged. "I don't know, maybe someone banged a Loki again."

"The hell did you get actual absinthe around here?" Eliot was going to ignore the milk, thanks. But the quantity of booze definitely got an impressed eyebrow.

"You do the last name-first name-last name thing a lot?" Tamsin asked. "It's very dramatic."

"The Norse god? . . . That would actually explain a lot."

Well she had a very distinctive posture.

"Jones," she replied with another nod of acknowledgement. "Yes. I teach the independent study course. You teach there as well as run the local restaurant in town, correct?"

Someone pays attention to the radio.

"Well I've got the skills at a pro level, so I can't go around acting like some hack."

This was the first time he'd made reference to his past this fast into getting acquainted with someone. Thanks, pollen.

"Only on occasions a dramatic introduction is needed."

"You have orgies on the regular at home and you brought scotch?" Irene asked incredulously. "Lady Ghanima, you just get more interesting every time I see you."

"Seriously?" Eliot gave her a quick once-over. "You lookin' to?"

Oh, and also he drank. Even if lately it'd been a more fantasy scenario than an actuality.

"Please don't talk to me about bendy exercise."

It was unfair!

Now was probably not the time to tell her that Allie had only been officially promoted to bartender the week before. "I think I can handle that. So stop on by."

"Yeah, that too," Mike replied wryly. "It's been, uh... kinda its own kind of crazy."

Allie recognized the look of someone used to the cold. She'd been there herself.

"Staying warm enough?"

Listening to the radio was just good policy.

"Luke's, yeah. Though a buddy of mine just showed up and might try to yank it out from under me."

That wasn't fair. Hardison had no interest in running Luke's. He just wanted to completely revamp it into a brew pub.

"Maybe," Irene said, smiling over at him. "Find me a lady and we'll talk, darling."

Gosh, way to twist the guy's arm, Irene.

Which was exactly why she'd brought it up, la.

"Sensitive about your flexibility?" she teased. "I could help you work on it."

Now you were just being mean, Irene.

Eliot considered calling Parker. But that would be mean to Hardison. He licked his lips and looked around the party once, instead. "I will absolutely keep that in mind."

"Yeah," Tamsin said casually, because it was sex pollen week, not 'don't lie your ass off about being Fae' week. "That's what I figure, anyway."

"I almost prefer the kind of crazy when things are trying to eat us. At least then you can work off energy by hitting things." Obviously Allie had a very unique sense of fun.

Tamsin tilted her head and thought about it. Then she looked at his giant bottle of vodka.

"Come in," she said, in sort-of-pleasant ancient Norse because it'd been a while, Eric, hi.

"I respect that," Tamsin said, "I mean, I'm worth some drama. Random people on the street, though, that'd get awkward."

"Well enough, but I've a feeling that won't be too much of a problem tonight," Éponine said, already looking around the room appreciatively. "God knows there are worse ways to have to keep warm, I tell you what."

At least she'd be keeping warm this way because she wanted to, not because it was so cold she didn't have a choice.

"I hadn't expected to see you here, to tell the truth."

"You're a stripper?" Tamsin said. Huh. "You should be doing great business this week."

Eliot wouldn't know what the hell "being Fae" meant, anyway. It wasn't on his list yet of things he might eventually have to fight. "She ain't likely to show up, is she?"

He was pretty sure nothing would kill a party like this faster than a hyperactive pink pony in the middle of it.

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Tamsin's House of Sharp Things And Presently Not Enough Alcohol, Thursday Evening

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