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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For showing up, delivering booze, and talking to each other in a neutral setting.

The central area of Tamsin's ~~refurnished storefront~~ house is covered in pillows for people to sit on. The table of drinks is nearby, as are the snacks, and the lights are on.

This isn't a potluck, but who knows, maybe someone will bring something more sophisticated than Doritos.

In case anyone decides to kick off a game of Spin the Bottle or I Never.

There's a bunch of darker alcoves in the room that still have pillows, but are largely out of sight or badly lit.

Or you can sneak into one of the smaller rooms upstairs, but Tamsin and Death's bedrooms are locked shut.

She's doing mental Is It Worth Staying At My Own Party Math if she isn't drinking.

Wheeee, party.

So far Tony's week had been a mixture of terrible and fun. And one instance of T'Challa not laughing at him in a way that implied he was being laughed at.

Jerk.

But Tony was there with a nice bottle of scotch that was probably going to end up chugged. He'd have to live with that on his conscience.

"Hey, Stark," Tamsin said, opening the door. "Good you made it."

Good his expensive bottle of scotch made it.

"Mayor," he replied cheerfully. "I do love your parties."

All two of them. But still.

"I love my parties, too," Tamsin said. "Didn't we make out at the door last time this happened?"

"...I think so." Tony tilted his head to think back to it. "Are you saying that's not how you greet all your guests?" he teased.

"Just a couple of them," Tamsin said dryly, tilting her head. "I could be up for that again."

"Well, who am I to refuse the hostess," he replied, leaning forward for a kiss.

Jessica had largely managed to take the edge off for Tamsin, but that didn't mean she wasn't still going to try and make out with a bunch of her houseguests.

She cupped the back of Tony's neck and kissed him firmly.

Why did you have to be so very his type and also hook up with one if his friends, Tamsin? It made this so very difficult for him.

Not difficult enough to stop kissing her just yet. Wait for those higher brain functions to kick in.

Hey, now. It wasn't like she and Jessica were dating.

But Tamsin was the one to break it off, anyway, patting him on the shoulder as she pulled back. "Booze goes on the table," she said, jerking her thumb towards the inside.

Yes, but still a grey area.

"Glad to see you too, Tamsin," he replied dryly, walking past her to add to the alcohol pile.

Mike brought a bag full of booze. He'd been such a good boy all week, he was allowed, dammit.

(You know. Like he actually cared whether anyone was judging him.)

Edited 2016-02-20 14:54 (UTC)

Tamsin grinned wolfishly at him as soon as she spotted it. "I knew there was a reason you were my favorite," she said.

Still a little dry, but she meant it.

Jessica did some strategic analysis before she decided to come. How likely was it that a teacher she had when she was a student just a couple years ago might be there? Not likely, unless Skywalker was becoming a swinger. Would she get all hung up and jealous if Tamsin hooked up with someone else? She was pretty sure that, no, the feelings in play were a more general kind of liking and, yes, lust. Nothing too awkward. Would she regret any of it in the morning? Maybe, but not enough to NOT scratch the polleny itch.

So Jessica showed up, with a bottle of wine and a veggie tray. Because she also figured there was no way there would be snacks more sophisticated than potato chips. She was wrong, of course. Corn was classier than potato. Obviously.

Didi wasn't much of a chef, but she managed a plate of slice-and-bake cookies. That counted as more sophisticated than Doritos, right? (Nobody tell her if it didn't.)

She hovered by the food most of the evening, vainly trying to keep glitter away from anything edible.

Mike grinned. "Like to make a good impression." And parties were kind of his element. Particularly ones with sexual undertones. "Hey, Tamsin. How've you been?"

Hey, look, a veggie tray! It wasn't a whole lot more sophisticated than Doritos, but it was healthier and less likely to makes parts of anyone orange.

Really, it was a snack choice that worked on two levels.

"Horny, mostly," Tamsin said, pulling a face. "You?"

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

Arrive/Mingle

Drink! Where People Can See You!

Eat! If Actual Food Arrives!

Party! With Games!

Make Out! In The Shadows!

Talk to the Hostess

OOC

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