fjordicswagger | 74 Godiva Street, AKA Tamsin and Death's Home Of More Alcohol Than Last Year, Saturday Evening

Okay, this party had been born out of actual need (for alcohol and getting laid) last year; this year, those factors weren't as urgent for Tamsin, who figured she could always drop in on Jessica or Mike if the night was a spectacular failure.

But hell, it'd been fun last time. Why the hell not?

There were black sheets hanging in front of the windows again, and pillows and sheets scattered all over the floor to make for little makeshift sitting spaces and nooks. There was an empty bottle (in case someone decided to play Spin the Bottle) sitting somewhere in the middle of the room, and in a fit of generosity Tamsin had thoughtfully supplied a bunch of bags of chips in case people wanted to eat stuff.

The glitter clinging to the sheets and the walls and whatnot: not her fault. Who'd ever heard of impromptu localized glitter storms before? At least the winds had died down well before the party actually started, but there was no way in hell she was vacuuming all that stuff up.

There. Party time.

[[ OPEN! ]]

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"Look who's bringing in the fancy," Tamsin said. And on any other week, she would have in fact been eyeing the bottle of wine.

Now, though, well, it was taking her a second to remember the wine was further down and Jessica's face was further up than where she was looking.

"Horny with a sideorder of 'fuck, I need to get this dining set done by Monday'." This was why they got along. "Which, by the way, I did."

Tamsin thought about that one for a moment. "How sturdy is this dining set?" she said.

... Just asking for a friend.

Sure. Mike looked amused. "Well I built it to last for generations, so..."

Another week and Jessica might have been more annoyed than flattered by that, but she had already checked south of Tamsin's face a couple times in about 10 seconds, so she couldn't complain. "I was Student Council President back in the day. You're lucky I'm not bringing a bucket of body glitter. I thought this might be more appreciated."

"Cool," Tamsin mused. "If this keeps up, I might have to come check it out."

"I don't know," Tamsin said, "This week? I might have been cool with the body glitter. Not that the island isn't bringing it in for free right now."

Ah, look. There was Jessica's face.

Jessica just caught sight of the glitter. "That is much more restrained than I would have gone with," Jessica decided. "Although I guess all you need for body glitter is glitter and a body, and you definitely have both of those." Jessica confirmed it the other day! Tamsin's body was real!

"Glitter duty?" Jessica checked. "You're fighting the good fight."

"All hail our most glorious mayor!" Constantine proclaimed as he arrived, this time well-armed with two cases of Black Sheep. It had been popular enough last time. "I nominate her for 'hottest and smartest authority figure on Fandom.'"

"Thanks for noticing," Tamsin said, a little dryly, and not at all like someone who would one day show up in her lady love's bedroom dressed in nothing but ribbons.

"Come on in. Get covered in glitter. Maybe make out a little."

Look, she was hosting a party in sex pollen week. She knew the score.

"I'm still not letting you have extra booze," Tamsin said, "But points for the Black Sheep." She reached out to grab a case.

Not to take it inside. She needed to liberate a can, stat.

"Does it have to be in that order?" Jessica asked, walking in. "I mean, coming in first, sure. Otherwise things get awkward and public."

"Who said I was after extra booze?" he asked, handing over the case without an argument. John, no, that's not Tamsin's face you're admiring. "I'm wanting hot people in search of a good time."

Cara had considered just staying in and stewing in her own misery and sneezes, but drowning them in alcohol instead sounded remarkably appealing by this point of the week.

She's brought along a box of bottles 'acquired' during various shifts at the bar.

Tony found a place to only half sulk in the shadows because his one date this week ended without sex because it might kill him.

Okay, it was a full on sulk.

"I don't think anybody gives a damn about awkward and public this week," Tamsin said, but she shut the door anyway and trailed after Jessica. "I'm good with any order."

Everyone was staring at Tamsin's boobs this week. She was going to roll her eyes on principle, and then she was going to pop out a brewski and open it and take a swig. "Well, if it's anything like last year, that should go well," she said. "If we get brooders again, I'm going to need you to hit on at least one of them just for funsies."

"Oh, good," Tamsin said, as she pushed open the door. "We got a bartender."

Atton was probably better off spending the next few days fixing even more things on the Hawk, but frankly, everything on the Hawk was now so fixed he was afraid that fixing anything else might cause the whole thing to blow up.

So he showed up with a bottle of scotch for the hostess, and half a bottle of juma for himself. There. Good enough.

Atton wasn't making out with anyone tonight besides his bottle of juma, thanks.

... Probably.

He was sitting over there in the corner, anyway.

After a successful shopping trip with Kitty, Allie had turned up to the party, a bottle of high end vodka that she wouldn't be drinking in hand.

Awww. People kept bringing the expensive stuff.

"Welcome to the party," Tamsin said, making grabby hands for the bottle almost immediately. "Vodka? Nice."

"I hate to do this to you, but I'm going to have to insist that no matter what happens here tonight, you and I can't make out," Jessica said.

"If Tino shows up too I'm leaving." Because it was bad enough putting up with him one night a week.

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74 Godiva Street, AKA Tamsin and Death's Home Of More Alcohol Than Last Year, Saturday Evening

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