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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Coming up with something was hard for Constantine.

"Never yet succeeded in joining the Mile High Club," he announced sadly. "Still working on that one, but will accept volunteers."

Oh, this one was easy.

Tamsin took a nice, big swig.

Eliot snorted faintly at that and took a swig. And then a couple more for good measure.

He had an air marshall badge and a stewardess or two under his belt. He'd kind of lost track.

Bond drank.

"It helps if it's a private charter," he said.

At that, Tony took a sip. "Private jets are great for that."

Irene drank proudly, smiling over the rim of her cup.

She missed being a little jet-setter.

And here Kitty had to drink, if a little shyly. Welcome to insight on Kitty's previous relationship.

"Does it count if you did it on an airship before it was called the mile-high club?" Jack wondered aloud.

Ah, the complexities of being a time traveler.

"Fucking time-travel," he said cheerfully, shaking his head. "Sure. A mile up is still a mile up, even if you're older than dinosaurs."

Constantine, behave.

"I'm only 133!" Jack volunteered indignantly. "And I skipped most of that, so anyhow..."

He drank.

"I'm broke, so I fly coach," Pam sighed. "I tried a couple times but those bathrooms are tiny."

She leered at Constantine. "Sooo ... do you have a plane?"

And then after a second, she reconsidered.

"Wait," she said. "Does space count? That's pretty high."

(THANKS ERIN I FORGOT)

//Not opposed to volunteers either,// Jono offered, putting up a hand. //Plenty of experience flying. Not so much in situations where sex is appropriate.//

There was a very finite number of X-Men he'd consider sleeping with, okay? And most of the times he'd been in the air had been because of them. So.

"Do you have a plane?" Pam asked. "'Cause I'm too broke for first class, and there's no room in coach."

//I know people who have a plane, and I know how to pilot it,// Jono ventured. //Not quite the same. Still working on other ways of flying, though.//

"Soooooooooooo," Pam said. "Wanna steal some dude's plane and bang in it?"

//Ah...// Jono needed a moment to blink and kind of stare at her. //You mean that, don't you?//

He needed a moment to process that, Pam. Please hold.

"... Did you not?" Pam asked. "'Cause ... I mean. I'm down."

//I'll... keep an eye out for a plane,// Jono decided, because why the hell not? //If all else fails, I might be able to charter something.//

What? He had a lot of money just... tucked away, after leaving the New Warriors. He didn't act like it, because like hell if he knew what he was supposed to do with that much, just sitting there being... money. He'd invested a lot of it.

He got one big, stupid purchase, didn't he?

Clint frowned a little at not being able to drink, especially when Kitty did. And he even really liked heights! This was definitely going to have to go on his to do list.

"Oh God I had no idea I was going to get so drunk tonight." That kind of sounded like volunteering, in its own way. Chug!

Damn it, Constantine. Navaan had no idea what that even meant.

"You mean sex while high?" she asked. "Who hasn't done that?"

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

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