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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"You're not staying?" Pam noticed Jono hovering near the door, and seemed horrified. "You're gonna miss the orgy."

//Me?//

No, Jono. The other guy hanging out by the door looking uncomfortably randy and like he's about to bolt, both at the same time. Duh.

//I mean, er.// He shifted his weight awkwardly, and then shrugged his shoulders a bit. //I'm not completely certain I didn't get the wrong address...?//

"Were you looking for an orgy?" she asked. "It's BYOB, so I have absinthe. And I brought wings, 'cause orgies make me hungry."

//... So maybe I am in the right place. I brought some wine I was never going to drink. Er. No food, though.//

Because he was never going to eat it, either, and the only options he really had were mostly... a can of spaghetti that had been sitting in his cupboard since the last time he'd had a face.

So.

"You can have some wings," Pam said. "Plus a fancy cheese plate thing or whatever. How's come you're not gonna drink your wine? Is it the cheap stuff?"

She wouldn't judge him, for bringing the cheap stuff. She'd drink the cheap stuff. Take it off his hands.

//I don't think it's the cheap stuff,// Jono replied, a little awkwardly. //And I'll have to let you keep your wings, I'm afraid. I'm on a bit of, er, an everything-free diet.//

That was one way of putting it, yes.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh," Pam said, nodding. "Right! You're that guy that has, like, a fire all over his face. Right? That was you?"

Or maybe he was just a snarky British guy talking in her head for no real reason. Six of one ...

//Ah... yes. That would be me.//

Good, good, he had a reputation, now, apparently?

In fairness, there weren't many other guys with fire where there faces went, here.

//... You've heard of me, then?//

"Yeah, my roomie was like stalker-obsessed with you," she said. Note: Cheryl had not actually done anything about this alleged stalker-obsession, beyond mention Jono in lustful ways. That was restrained, for Cheryl. Pam was not really a reliable narrator, here. "She's way into fire. Dunno how the house is still standing."

//Ah.//

Well, that was... creepy. And Jono was pretty certain he knew exactly who her roomie was, based on that.

//Well, that's... I'm very happy for your house?//

HOW DID YOU RESPOND TO THAT?

So, he totally must have ID'd Cheryl, based on the panicked stare.

"Sooooo," Pam said, frowning. "Is that like a dealbreaker? I wasn't gonna tell her."

//... No, no not really the dealbreaker it could be,// Jono replied. Especially this week. //I appreciate the not telling her.//

No, really. He did. Because 'stalker obsessed' was very much not his cup of tea at the moment.

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

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