[party post]

[smithnjones]

On July 4th, there is another wanderer community event for the first time since March when a bomber nearly killed everyone that attended but instead killed two people who chose to sacrifice themselves so the rest could live. These two people were friends of many including Martha Jones, but it is important to move forward and not let grief stop them

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[wordoftheroses]

Aurora had considered not attending but the promise of live entertainment is what finally won her over.

So now she's by the music, her moth wings chosen for the occasion, and she dances.

Anyone should feel free to join her, or if they ever wanted to get anything out of her, now would be the time. She's going to be a little high off the music and quite happy indeed.

[idontgethurt]

Damon is here for one reason and one reason only. He wants to look out for Elena, especially now that he has learned what he has through his employment with Josef.

If it weren't for her, there is no way that he would show up at a pier like this filled with all these people. He doesn't care about Independence Day. Damon just needs to keep her safe.

At the moment, however, he's leaning against a light post as he watches her dance with raised eyebrows. He has to have very specific reasons to dance like being very drunk or being incognito at a high school dance.

[wordoftheroses]

Aurora has always been easy to sway when music is involved. She loves the sound of live music more than a lot of things and she's prone to dancing when it's around. It makes her a little silly yes,but she doesn't mind.

She spots him and grins, making her way over. "hello," she greets with a cheer in her voice that he's never really heard before. "I'm surprised to see you here."

He never struck her as the type to come to thinks like this, though she has been wrong about people before.

[idontgethurt]

Damon smirks at her when she approaches him.

"Hi," he says, continuing to lean back against the lamp post like he ain't even bovvered by a thing. "You'll find I'm just full of surprises."

He scans the crowd. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary for once, not even the ordinary Chicago-weird. No Rifts appearing. No monsters falling out. This could be a very boring evening.

"Having fun?"

[smileforaliving]

Neal has convinced Peter that going out for the day is an excellent idea. They've separated at the moment but he knows the other man isn't too far away.

He's wandering around, looking closely at what the pier seems to have set out for them. Nothing immediately catches his eye,, though eh does wind up lingering around the stained glass museum to take a look.

This many people all crammed into one general areay doesn't escape him though. His mind thinks of how simple it would be to get away with something, anything, but he pushes that aside in favor of wandering a little more.

[wereall_addicts]

Sophie's doing a bit of wandering herself. For once this seems to be a rather tame as far as Chicago is concerned, so she's planning on relaxing and enjoying herself, for however long it lets her.

She's making her way down the pier, looking at the different displays, when she happens to spot a familiar man heading in her direction. She smiles, just slightly, before making her way closer.

"I have to say -- you clean up rather well when you're not waterlogged and wave-swept."

[smileforaliving]

He laughs, his attention breaking from the display. "What can I say," he starts. "Not even I can pull off drowned rat."

He is more than happy to be dry right now. Call him crazy but he has had enough apocalyptic floods in his life.

"You aren't too bad yourself by the way." He smiles. "But after that whole thing,, I've gained a new appreciation for being dry."

[wereall_addicts]

Sophie feels the same way, really. One Apocalyptic flood is enough for anyone. She smirks a bit as she moves closer.

"Why thank you," she says with a smile. "I was always a firm believer in you are how you dress."

[inventandforget]

Millie is, to no one's surprise,, working.

She's got her cart and a smile and is happily supplying coffee to anyone who might get the craving. She's also got all sorts of sweet things out and may occasionally be giving out free samples to anyone who looks like they deserve one.

She's also stopping every now and then to wave at anyone she recognizes, since this is a Wanderer event and she knows she'll be seeing at least a few familiar faces around.

[nastypieceowork]

"Give us a coffee, luv, that'll hit the spot."

He can't drink out here and he's between cigarettes, so a bit of caffeine will do, for now. He rummages around in his pants pockets--on such a warm night, he's doffed the raincoat--coming up with a handful of change that he peers at. Still hasn't got the hang of American currency. But he can't just keep breaking large bills out of laziness; he'll never learn, and, more importantly, he's running out of large bills just now.

"How much?"

[inventandforget]

She prepares him a cup of coffee with the skill of someone who has been doing so for years She barely needs to look at what she's doing to know she's doing it right.

Considering for a moment,, she grins. "Make me an offer?" One day Millie will work with set prices for her coffee but she has a lot more fun doing things like this instead.

[nastypieceowork]

John pauses at that, glancing up from the fistful of change in his hand. He's a soft touch from time to infrequent time; she seems a nice girl and it's been his experience that nice girls who trust other people to do right by them frequently get the short end of the stick.

The change goes back into his pocket; there's some more fussing about and he comes out with some crumpled bills. These are easier for him to decipher, and he plucks out one marked with a five and holds it out.

"That's my final offer and I won't reconsider, luv," he says, a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

[physics_magic]

Spencer has found himself a comfortable corner and an ice cream cone. He's not entirely sure why he's here, other than he should probably make an effort to leave the Kashtta more often and, if Cassie is around, he knows it'll make her happy.

Not the best reasons in the world but at least they're something.

He's people-watching mostly, studying those who pass him by and noting anyone who looks interesting. No one has jumped out to him yet but this is Chicago, it's filled with interesting enough people and it never hurts to keep a watch for....something.

[faraday_effect]

Dani isn't exactly something, but she is someone.

She's wandering around with a sadly neglected caramel apple, eyes sweeping this way and that as she wonders whether or not coming here was a wise decision.

There are so many people. So many faces.

So many memories that aren't hers.

Spencer may notice that she's currently pinching the bridge of her nose as though she has a headache coming on. (She does.)

[physics_magic]

HHIs attention is drawn to her, it tends to linger on those who seem a little unsure about what they're doing here, partly because he feels very similar.

Studying her for a few more minutes,, he debates going up to her but feels himself freeze. He has no real reason to speak to her other than the fact that she looks a bit lost and she very well could not want to be bothered.

But he sighs,, taking in a breath and slipping away from his little nook into the crowd and towards the girl.

"Hi," he says upon reaching her. "You uhm...You look like you might want to get out of the crowds."

....He never claimed to be smooth. Not in the slightest.

[faraday_effect]

Spencer pings her as familiar, but not overwhelmingly so. She relaxes just slightly, thankful for the distraction, then shakes her head. "I don't spend a lot of time in the city," she says.

Technically speaking, this is not a lie.

Sheepishly: "I guess I'm just not used to being around this many people."

That, however, is kind of a lie.

[imwotchingyou]

Being British, it seemed odd celebrating America's Fourth of July to Tonks. It's not bad just weird. She's not dressed up for the occassion. She's wearing a short, charcoal romper with a pair of red flip-flops. Her bubblegum pink colored hair is worn in a short bob. In this miserable heat she had gone with something that kept her hair off of the back of her neck.

"Doyle, I just hit the ball and get it in the hole at the end, right?" That seems simple enough for Tonks. She looked over at Doyle before looking down at her ball and then at the course. Her ball was purple of course. She never played miniature gold before. It seemed a simple enough concept, hit the ball and make it go in the cup at the end.

She grips her golf club. Tonks takes a practice swing and then a real one. Her ball doesn't go airborne but it doesn't go into the hole either. It ricochets around the course before coming to a stop three-quarters of the way down.

"That's not too bad?"

[halfhuman_hero]

Doyle is watching with amusement, "Yeah, that's pretty much it, darl," he says with a nod, grinning. "Not much to mini-golf, unless there's them windmill things," That's when stuff starts getting tricky.

While he is Irish, Doyle is happy enough to celebrate Fourth of July. He's lived over in the states for a long time and takes all of their holidays in his stride. And with Chicago being Chicago, there's more reason to celebrate.

He leans on his golf club to watch. He's not really a player, to be honest. He'd rather bet, there's more happiness when you win.

"That's pretty damn good," he says with a boyish grin. "Now next time, don't hit it as hard - or you'll end up knockin' it too far away on the other side of the hole,"

[imwotchingyou]

"Maybe you could give me a hands on demonstration Doyle?" Tonks smiles sweetly as she walks over to him. She leans in close and whispers something explicit into his ear. It wouldn't do for children to overhear the kind of demonstration that she both wants to give and receive.

"Think about it alright, it might be a fun lesson." She steps away with a grin. "So, do I go until I get it into the cup or is it your turn now?"

What? She's happy that he's back is all.

[halfhuman_hero]

"I, er.. well," Doyle raises his eyebrow as she whispers into his ear, going a little slack jawed. Well then. Yes, definitely not words for young children to hear. It takes him a couple of minutes to actually finally say something. He clears his throat and grins a little.

"Yes, ma'am," he manages to utter, going a little red in the face.

He rubs the back of his neck with one hand, pausing to re-think the rules. He doesn't know them that well really, and the narration can't really help him out either.

"Y'keep goin' til you putt the ball, I think - and then it's my turn," he says with a nod.