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

[fjordicswagger]

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! ]]

Comments

Re: Arrive/Mingle

[fjordicswagger]

"If Tino shows up, I'm tying him to the ceiling like a pinata," Tamsin said.

Re: Arrive/Mingle

[wrongkindofsith]

"I might stick around for that."

There was a certain appeal in being able to punch people without ending up in the duck pond.

Re: Arrive/Mingle

[fjordicswagger]

"I know my audience," Tamsin shared. "He'd have to wear a mask, though."

Re: Arrive/Mingle

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara was struck by a terrible thought. "He might enjoy that."

Re: Arrive/Mingle

[fjordicswagger]

"... Well, that just managed to kill my libido dead," Tamsin said.

Re: Arrive/Mingle

[wrongkindofsith]

"He has that effect on people."