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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"On the table, on a chair, on a bed..."

He trailed off, looking into he distance, and sighed happily, because he was a complete tease. Also very into the idea, in case that wasn't clear already.

He looked back at her, smirking. "I like direct. I like sex, and I like you. I'm game."

"Anytime. So, you know, go get 'im, tiger," Kitty said. "Do the kids still say that these days?"

The kids had never said that.

"I could show you," Irene offered, generously. "Though all things considered, you're probably not a great model for that, since you can get out of it all." Tsk, so unfair. "I feel like if I told you stories from my old work life you'd probably just turn red permanently or go into a coma or something."

Mike shrugged like it was no big deal. "Well uh, hypothetically, I don't know where 'impressed and only a little surprised' rates on the freakout scale," he admitted. "Used to know a few ladies who did that on the side, actually."

"I can get out of it, but only if I want to," Kitty said, before she could stop herself. What was with this week.

Gee Mike, you've left her speechless.

Or not so much speechless as overcome by the sudden rush of images.

"Sounds like a long night. I don't have a problem with that."

"It gives you a leg up when you first get here, absolutely," Jack nodded. "Everyone in my world knows vampires and magic and such are real. They aren't thought of as terribly respectable, but it was never a new concept. To be honest I'm not sure how well I'd do in a world that was entirely normal."

"You're my own personal cheering squad. I feel like you need pom-poms."

Delaying to work up her courage? Never.

He smiled widely.

"Me neither." He so did not have a problem with that. "Should we get out of here?"

Such a tough choice.

Only not really.

Allie answered his smile with one of her own. "Lead the way."

Mike reached for her hand and began to tug her away.

Surely they'd find somewhere nice to spend their long, long night.

Allie had a very nice, grumpy werewolf-free apartment.

With a couch, and a table and a bed even.

(so what if they were from Ikea)

Apparently coming up with these was harder than in normal I Never.

"I've never had sex in a car," she said, like she'd just realized that.

Kitty actually had to think about this, because she was dating a guy fifteen years older than her.

She didn't drink because she figured it'd make him feel better.

And once again, no drinking for Kitty. Even if she knew people who had.

Mike was probably going to sadface at all the Ikea. But that just meant it was her job to distract him. So, they'd probably end up there.

He pulled her out into the night.

It'd be great.

Clint came in shortly after Kitty, clutching some bottles of spiced rum. He wasn't really a strong booze guy - beer was so much more his speed - so this was less about sharing and more about giving stuff away.

"You're missing out," Irene sing-songed as she took a long pull from her drink. "Road head is a lot of fun, too."

IRENE, STOP.

That was very surprising indeed, but Clint covered his surprise with a drink.

Ah, those magical pre-SHIELD days.

"I'm very talented," Jack said, following her gaze with his eyes. He gently pushed the fabric aside, then dipped a clean index finger into the pot of red body paint. "Hmmm. Maybe not liberty. Maybe something to match the theme of the week."

He started to trace letters onto her chest in his neat cursive. B-I-S-O-

"Hello there. I'm certain we haven't had a chance to be properly introduced. I'm Atticus," he said, holding out his hand because sex pollen hadn't totally killed his manners. "I keep one of the apartment buildings from falling apart. It's nice of you to come up with a distraction for the evening."

And that was Irene glancing from Kitty not drinking, to Clint drinking, and back again. "Oh, really?" she said, ever so casually. "I've always heard they're lots of fun with the right people."

She'd just be over here, not explicitly saying she was the right person, but you know. She totally was.

It was the best week, that's what. (Irene's opinion on that had changed, what with the makeouts and the lining up sex and all.)

"Well, that's convenient," Irene noted, lifting her brow lightly. "And Clint can't do anything like that, right?"

Just checking. She knew perfectly well, but, you know. Just checking.

Éponine grimaced in sympathy. "Maybe you ought to just lock him up in there anyway." Sometimes she was kind of awful. "How much longer is this supposed to last?"

Because it was fun and all, but after a while it was just damned inconvenient.

Oh yeah, that was getting an eyebrow raise out of Kitty.

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

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