LATFF [4b/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:36:57 UTC
“Ludwig! He’s fuckin’ amazing - just told him what I wanted and boom, sweet costume. The hand’s metal, but no sharp edges or anything - wouldn’t want to cut the hotties on the dancefloor,” he smirked. “The guy made Alfred’s Bender costume - that helmet? Metal. Should’ve had him help with your Black Knight getup,” he pointed to Arthur’s cardboard armor and grinned. “You gonna say “It’s only a flesh wound!” for me, babe?”
“Hey!” Feliks called. “I helped with your hair, Gilbert! And you would have been, like, totally screwed without Nils to help with the outfit.”
Nils nodded.
“This way,” Arthur said, and led Gilbert and Nils to a storage closet in the hallway. “So you’re a death metal guy?” He nodded to Nils’ painted face and torn leather getup.
“Per Yngve Ohlin - better known as Dead, from Mayhem,” Nils corrected.
“Under the jacket - he’s got fake blood smeared all over his arms,” Gilbert cut in. “The guy was so badass he slit his wrists and then composed the goddamn suicide note!”
Arthur stood back and whistled. “Well fuck me, you’re a dead ringer for ‘im. Okay, just throw your shit in here,” he gestured to the mostly-bare closet.
---
Antonio, wearing some kind of odd helmet and leather, came over to chat with Ludwig, and Alfred made a beeline to Elizabeta and began whining that he should DJ until more people came - and then Ludwig could take over, he promised.
“Ludwig, do you mind?” she called to him.
He smiled at Alfred. “No. I’ve got an iPod jack here, CD player here, and record player here,” he showed Alfred the setup, pointing out each item in turn. Alfred managed to shove his iPod onto the jack despite his gloved hands, and immediately began blasting “Drunk Girls” by LCD Soundsystem.
“Alfred!” Feliks snapped. “This is a total drunk song! It’s called Drunk Girls! You don’t play that, like, until that party’s actually swinging!”
“Nah dude, you gotta start things off with a bang!” Alfred laughed, the noise making a tinny echo in his helmet.
“You’re just impatient,” Feliks yelled over the music.
The main lights went off and Feliks’ party lights went on. “See,” Alfred pointed to Gilbert, who was jokingly grinding against Antonio on the ‘dance floor’ - “Gil and I start the party! Plus, I’ve got Dan Deacon and Outkast in the works, it’s cool. Go dance, man!”
Feliks shrugged, put his coat behind some speakers, and joined the tiny dance floor that had started with Gilbert and Antonio. Soon Elizabeta, an Amy Winehouse, some Rockabillies, and a pretty good Deadmau5 had joined in.
---
Meanwhile, Arthur and Nils were sitting on Arthur’s bed, flipping through various zines and drinking Arthur’s homebrew.
Nils didn’t realize he’d finished his bottle until Arthur shoved another into his hand and opened it for him. He laughed a bit, already tipsy. “Wow, didn’t realize I’d finished it. It’s really good,” he said.
“Thanks,” Arthur replied. “Wanted something that tasted good, didn’t have a piss-poor ABV, and didn’t cost an arm. Had to make it myself.”
“Oh? What’s the ABV?”
“Well, the recipe I used, could be anywhere from 8 to 12 percent.”
“Shit!” Nils exclaimed. “We drank a little at the house - I’m gonna be smashed before midnight!”
Arthur cuffed him and shouted “That’s the spirit!” Nils groaned.
--- Ludwig was taking over his post from a protesting Alfred when Alfred was distracted by the troupe that entered the room. “Whoa, they look fancy!” he pointed to Eirik, Natalia, and Bella, not actually realizing who they were. “All old-fashioned, ya know? Don’t girls dressed like that have, er, a name or something? What’re they called?”
“Flappers?”
“Ha! Yeah, man, Ludwig, how do you know everything?”
Two giggling figures soon followed the 20’s socialites - they were unmistakably Andy Warhol and Debbie Harry. A girl in a hat that made her look like a jellyfish appeared out of nowhere, then ran up and tackled both from behind in a massive hug. “Whoa!” Alfred exclaimed, “I need to see that hat!” and he took off.
One of the flappers came up to Ludwig, and it took him a minute to realize it was Natalia with her short brown bob. “I assume that is a wig?” he gestured to her hair.
LATFF [4c/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:38:09 UTC
She let out a small laugh. “Of course. Nice hat, yourself. What is this you’re playing?” she looked to the record stand.
“Oh, I’m, ah, playing from my iPod right now, but it’s La Dolce Vita by Sparks,” he handed it to her.
“So what’s next?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I was trying to decide between DJ Koze’s remix of Minimal or the original version.”
“I’ve heard the DJ Koze version,” she replied, “but - do you have his Atlas remix?” A nod. “Play that, it’s a little milder. The night’s young.”
Ludwig nodded and put it next in the playlist. For a bit they both stood, picked out what to play, discussed electronica and ambient music, and watched Tina and Feli, as Andy Warhol and a jellyfish, respectively, bring the dance floor up to the next level. The two chipper girls managed to pull an Old Greg, a Salvador Dali, and some legos in to join.
---
Eirik, Bella, and Lili were passing around a bottle of whiskey in a brown paper bag. Bella grimaced after taking a swig, saying “I wish we could make some old-school cocktails, pretend we were at a speakeasy.”
“We could have stayed home and done just that,” Eirik responded, crossing his arms.
“No way!” Lili said. “You two look amazing! You make a lovely Jay, Eirik, and Bella, you have just the right hair to pull off Daisy’s style. It would be a shame for no one to see you.”
“You should have been Myrtle,” Bella said. “Or just a flapper.”
“I don’t like Myrtle; I would’ve been Jordan, but I think Natalia’s better suited anyway. She’s more athletic, you know? Plus that wig looks great on her!”
“I think you look great as Debbie Harry,” Eirik muttered, looking across the room, catching the eye of a familiar-looking metalhead, and glaring at him.
---
Wow, was that Eirik kid ever giving him the evil eye. Nevermind saying hi, then. Nils finished his beer (how many was that, now?) in one gulp and searched around for someone else to talk to.
Aha - Jack Skellington enters the building! Nils walked up to him, smirking and nodding his approval. They talked for a bit, until Lili came up to say how great Roderich looked - Nils laughed and said “I’ll leave you two at it,” and took off.
Roderich scowled behind his mask at Nils’ retreating back and blushed, while Lili just tilted her head curiously.
“Your friend is a bit odd,” she finally broke the silence with.
He coughed; it sounded muffled and strange within the rubber mask. “I’m still unsure as to why Francis hired him, to be honest,” he replied.
“Oh! I mean, he seems alright, just, you know, a little strange.”
Roderich was about to reply that the entire store was a little strange when he was tackled in the side by an overenthusiastic....jellyfish?
“Roddy! Hello! Francis told me that you were coming as Jack Skellington and that he had helped tailor it and I wanted to see,” Feli ran her hands around the seams of his suit while he tried to scoot away, then grabbed a cuff to examine it. “Oh, and you even got skeleton gloves, how cute!” she squealed. She ran her hands up the fabric of his jacket, commented on the material, and then unbuttoned it to see the shirt underneath. As he was trying to cut through her jabber and get her off, Lili excused herself and vanished.
“Roderich, this is great! I wish I could sew as well as Francis - he really has an eye for the cut of something, don’t you think? And have you seen him? I’ve got a new exhibition opening at the gallery - ooo, you need to come see it, remind me and I’ll tell you the date - and I have some new clothes to show Francis too, you haven’t seen him around have you?”
He finally got her off of him, but she just grabbed his hands and looked up at him through the purple tentacle-veil with large brown eyes. “No, no, I don’t think he has arrived yet, Feli.”
Her face fell. “Well, let me know when he gets here! I’m gonna go dance now - want to dance?!”
“Ah, no thank you, I’m going to fetch myself a drink first.” I need it, he thought.
LATFF [4d/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:39:36 UTC
---
Something slow-building and techno-ish was blasting through the speakers when an impeccably-suited, shiny-helmeted Francis entered, surrounded by a large crew which included Jens, Mathias, Heracles, Anja, a scowling Lovinia, and Katya. Alonzo, Sadiq, Cindy, Michelle, Mai, and a few other women trailed in shortly after, the girls tittering around the two men who were laughing and flirting like it was their job.
“Francis, let’s dance!” Michelle - dressed as a Native American - shouted, tugging on his tie, bracelets jingling.
“We just arrived,” he smiled, forgetting that no one could see through the helmet. “Shouldn’t we mingle a bit first? It is only polite.”
“No, no!” Katya said, her bunny ears flopping as she shook her head. “You’re a member of Daft Punk tonight! Let’s dance!”
“Yeah, go find your matching boy-toy,” Mathias slapped him on the back. “I’m sure he’s out on the dance floor.”
“Well?” Francis turned to the rest of the crew and raised a half-bent arm into the air, letting his hand limply gesture toward the dance floor, palm-up. “Who else would like to join me?”
Immediately Heracles and Katya moved to him, Heracles scratching the painted whiskers on his face. Michelle grabbed a cowgirl and a fawn - Cindy and Mei, respectively - and led the charge to the dance floor, laughing about how she was going to request some Baile Funk as soon as they got there.
Anja and Lovinia stood off the side, arms crossed, and Lovinia muttered “I can’t believe I’m wearing this.”
“You look ace in a steampunk outfit, I don’t know why you’re bitching about it,” a black-clad Anja retorted.
Lovinia huffed. “I don’t know why I even listen to you.”
Anja barked a laugh and threw an arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders, shaking her around while crooning “Because you looooove me, Lovi, we’re the bestest friends.”
“Stop that!” Lovinia shoved her off and attempted to pull her vest lower over her exposed abdomen.
“Ey, you two!” Mathias called. “We’re gonna go spike the punch bowl!” he grinned, holding up a bottle of Everclear. He yanked Jens - who was also wearing entirely black, but wearing round black plastic frames, a black bike helmet, and holding a cricket bat - and set off to the other end of the room.
Anja shrugged and followed the rest of them to the table, Lovinia reluctantly following.
---
“Wow, what are you?”
Sadiq looked to his right - a cute flapper with a short brown bob was looking him over, frowning. He braced an arm against the table and leaned back, smirking. “Xerxes, of course.”
She just frowned further.
He took a sip of his drink and resumed with “Otherwise known as Xerxes the Great, or Xerxes I of Persia.” Nothing.
“Whoa, wait,” Mathias interjected. “You’re actually in costume? You dress like this every day.”
“You dipshit, since when do I wear gold shorts around every day?” An incredulous stare. “Okay, shut up, but - I’m Xerxes! From 300, you know? Except Miller’s comic version, the movie sucked,” he snorted.
“Wait,” the girl narrowed her eyes. “So are those piercings real? And what are you?” she asked, pointing to Mathias, who was wearing all black, huge combat boots, topped with a tight black shirt with a hood over his head.
“Ve’re nihilists! Ve belief in nossing!” Mathias shouted while throwing a stuffed creature at Jens’ head.
Natalia stared and contemplated going back to talk to someone sane. Like Ludwig. “Riiiight,” she finally got out.
“They’re idiots, and yeah - “ Sadiq pointed to his face - “the piercings are real. Wanna drink?”
“We took over the punch bowl,” Alonzo chimed in, dumping something fruity into it.
Some disco-y remix filled the air, and Sadiq turned to Natalia and asked if she wanted to dance. She crossed her arms and said “Lay off - I am way younger than all of you, I know - and besides,” she sniffed, “you have enough girls around.” Mathias elbowed Alonzo in the side and made a joke about cradle robbing - Sadiq joined in the fun and made fun of Alozono’s “pedo-stache.”
“Hey, c’mon!’ Alonzo griped, “I’m John Oates, here! Who wouldn’t want to get with John Oates?”
LATFF [4e/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:40:34 UTC
Natalia was about to move away when Alonzo called to her. “Hey, I won’t hit on you, but I’m still gonna take your picture.” He then yanked Jens over and explained that they ran the party blog Neon Shark - Alonzo took the pictures, Jens ran the website end.
Natalia groaned and said “You’re those guys?!”
---
“Hey!” Nils shouted to the giant, half-shadowed bear in the corner, “you shouldn’t be hanging out in corners in that crrrreepy Radiohead bear suit!”
Ivan looked up, surprised. “You like Radiohead?”
“Pshyeeeah, but that’s not the point,” Nils stated, shoving his finger into Ivan’s chest. “You - you need to get out. Out there. You know. See people. Since I assume you’re Ivan under there.”
“I don’t want to dance,” Ivan replied timidly, shuffling his feet in the bear suit.
Nils snorted. “Drink morrre. Always works. What do you drink?”
“Ah, vodka, norm-”
“Okay, calllllm down. I’m just going to go, and get some vodka from my supply, and we’ll be allllll coooool,” Nils made a sweeping motion with one arm, letting his eyelids shut halfway before turning a bit too abruptly and taking off toward the hallway.
Ivan stared confusedly at the retreating man, took off the bear head, dug his flask out of his shirt pocket, and finished it off. Barely a minute later Nils came back, and true to his word, he had a mostly-full bottle of vodka with him.
The next twenty-five minutes were spent with both of them trying to ingest enough liquid courage to make it to the dance floor, Nils constantly goading a seemingly-sober Ivan to drink more, arguing over the best Radiohead album, and commenting on their favorite Halloween costumes as they went by.
---
Natalia was tolerating the company of the local idiots, looking at the pictures Alonzo was showing her of the night so far with a bit of interest, when Bella careened right into her, shouting “Natalia!” and giggling inanely.
Natalia raised an eyebrow at her friend.
“I asked the DJ to play a few songs for us - we can bust out a few of the old-school dances we learned back in high school! And in costume!” Bella exclaimed excitedly.
A fierce frown made its way to Natalia’s face. “Dances?”
“Oh, c’mon!” Bella said, shaking Natalia’s arm. “The first one’s gonna start soon - it’d be perfect to do the Charleston to!”
“You are so lucky I’ve been drinking,” Natalia finally said. Which was enough of an agreement.
Bella laughed and said “If you were sober there is no way I would do this! What do you think - Charleston to B-52’s? Eirik said he’d waltz with us, costume and all, if we did!”
“52 Girls” began playing and Bella looked at her friend with pleading eyes. “Fine,” Natalia sighed as Bella dragged her over to where Feli and Tina were dancing, Eirik standing to the side with a frown.
---
Fiest’s “1234” followed, and Bella and Natalia stopped the energetic Charleston and began an elegant waltz, by this point so engrossed in the enjoyment their dancing that they didn’t notice that most of the floor was taking a bit of a breather and mingling, admiring costumes. Lili pulled a shy Eirik in. With Tina and Feli pulling in random passerby, they quickly amassed a small dance circle; several people began some improvised dancing around the four immacuately-dressed pretty young things, giving them space to execute some skillful moves. There were a few cheers and cat-calls.
A de-helmeted Francis snatched Roderich from the sidelines at the end of “1234”, saying “Roderich, darling, there is a waltz going on! You are participating - you yourself taught me how, my dear!”
Roderich didn’t have to think too hard about it. All factors pointed to him going out there: he was drunk, Francis was a persistent bastard, they were, oddly enough, dressed for the part, and this was actually a dance he could do. Quite well. Expertly, even. “Okay, I will.” He put down his skeleton mask, tore off the ski mask, wiped his face with it, balled it up and shoved it in the skull.
The small dance crew had drawn a humble crowd by the time Hall and Oates’ “Rich Girl” came on. Bella threw Natalia to Eirik and grabbed Lili, who was nearby.
Roderich and Francis slipped in, and quickly became the best two on the dance floor.
LATFF [4f/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:41:50 UTC
---
Sadiq wandered over to the Skellington mask and picked it up, holding it out at arm’s length and having a short staring contest. He looked at it, to Mathias, to it, to Mathias, then shrugged. He walked over to where Mathias was standing talking to Alonzo and a few girls, and shoved it on the Nihilist’s head to raucous laughter.
Mathias, in retaliation, swept up Sadiq into a farce of a dance; it quickly devolved into serenading John Oates with his own song, Mathias down on one knee in front of Alonzo, Sadiq draped over his shoulder with an arm out, soulfully belting out “say money money won’t get you too far!” and shaking his head mournfully against Alonzo’s.
Alonzo refused to sing, just laughed and took pictures.
---
“Rich Girl” was fading out and Francis twirled Roderich out on his arm expertly - right in front of Lili and Bella. “Would you take care of my friend for me?” Francis winked to Lili and held out Roderich’s arm out to her. Roderich had enough alcohol bubbling through his system by now that he just laughed, and asked “Would you happen to know how to Foxtrot?”
The opening strains to “Dancing in the Moonlight” came on over the speakers in that moment; she laughed and squealed “Oh my God, this is one of my favorite songs!” and grabbed Roderich while shouting “lead the way, sir!”
They giddily skipped around the floor, laughing, sloppy-drunk, tripping and light on their feet. Francis and Bella grabbed each other and continued a happy, drunken, semi-waltz that ended up being mostly silly flourishes - Feli and Tina switched between each other and Natalia and Eirik as partners - others from the party joined in with swaying and arms in the air, sometimes randomly swinging complete strangers, Feliks’ disco lights shining across everyone like fairytale glimmers over the laughter in that moment.
“Whup,” Roderich laughed as Lili forgot the corner turn and smashed into him; she let out a too-loud laugh and yanked him around instead, becoming the lead. Roderich, a much better dancer, took it up gracefully.
“I’m surprised you know the Foxtrot,” he breathlessly laughed between steps. Her airy, warm exhalations tickled his neck and a sudden wave of lightheadedness made him miss a step.
“Oh, my friends taught me a lot of dances in high school - they both grew up dancing,” she replied while spontaneously turning him in the middle of the promenade. She was too short and the move too sudden; they got tangled in one another halfway through. They twisted back to face each other, faces flushed, trying to get back into rhythm through their cackling.
“Do you know the Baltimore?” Roderich asked. “No? The Charleston? Ah, well then, I should teach you some-” a loud screech cut off the rest of his sentence. Everyone stopped - he looked up and sighed. Mathias was at the DJ stand yelling at “all of you fucking ladies” and swilling some beer. He threw on a record and -
---
“I GOT SOMETHING TO SAY - I KILLED A BABY TODAY” absolutely blasted through the stereo system.
Arthur and Nils roared and had started a two-man mosh pit in time to scream along to “WELL I GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY - I RAPED YOUR MOTHER TODAY!” By the chorus Gilbert, Alfred, Eliza, Anja, Tina, Eirik, Jens and Ludwig had joined the pit and the chant of “sweet lovely death, I am waiting for your breath,” rang out from surprising corners of the warehouse as well as from the writhing crew up front. The more masochistic - Nils, Anja, Arthur, Jens - or thoughtless - Alfred, Tina - of them stayed near Gilbert and his dangerous hand.
“Hey, ya wanna mosh?” Feliks asked the Nihilist. The Nihilist looked at him and asked if he was going to make a joke if he said yes. “No, seriously. Gimme some tracks and I’ll play ‘em,” Feliks replied. He left off the ‘and take over the DJ booth once I’m done’ part of the deal. The Nihilist put on the Dead Kennedys’ “California Über Alles” before scooping up a few records and scratching down a few songs for Feliks to play. Then he was off and in the mess. Feliks looked the list over: Jay Reatard, Buzzcocks, Replacements, Descendants. He scratched off “What Do I Get?” - not good for moshing, jeez dude, really? - and added in “Blitzkrieg Bop” instead. A classic.
LATFF [4g/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:42:54 UTC
---
Francis leaned against the back wall and addressed the creepy bear next to him. “I liked the waltzing better,” he said sadly.
The bear nodded to the pit, whose members were all holding each other, throwing up fists, swaying and shouting along to the bridge of “California Über Alles” in punk solidarity. “It is entertaining, though,” he rumbled. The song started up again and chaos reigned once more, beer flying everywhere within a ten-foot radius of the pit and all over those involved. Especially during the chorus, which prompted fist-pumps from beer-holding hands, Ivan noted.
Another song started, even harder moshing began and beer, bottles, and costume parts flew through the air. Francis frowned and disparagingly talked about how gross anyone in the pit now was. Ivan shrugged, content to watch with sharp eyes.
“Ah, you like this music, no?” Francis asked between songs.
“It is...okay,” Ivan replied. “I like more ambient things.” The Ramones came on and Ivan smiled. “I do like this one a lot.”
Francis smiled. “It’s hard not to.”
Ivan handed over his bottle of vodka to Francis while both watched the proceedings. Francis took a long swig and scowled at the taste, but thanked the large man anyway. They passed the bottle back and forth while Francis tried to persuade Ivan to dance once the “punk nonsense” stopped. Ivan shrugged and tapped his foot along to the almost dancey beat of “Seen Your Video”.
“Ah, see?” Francis exclaimed. “You want to dance!” He nodded along and moved his hips to encourage the other. The two stood and bopped along until Francis noticed Feliks waving his way, and elbowed Ivan.
“He is certainly going to take over,” he smirked to Ivan, leaning a bit too far in and falling shoulder-first into Ivan. He laughed. Ivan didn’t know what that meant and was too drunk to pay much attention to Francis falling into him, so he said nothing.
“Hanging on the Telephone” came on next, which apparently was enough of a classic for the mosh crew; the rest of the party decided it was safe to join in the dancing again, and soon the floor was full.
“Want to go?” Francis nudged Ivan. Ivan shook his head but looked unsure. “If he plays a good song next, will you? Look at them - all you have to do is move your head, arms, and hips - the secret is in the hips,” he winked.
The next song came on and Francis let out an odd excited noise through his delighted laughter. “Popcorn! Ivan - come on,” and he dragged the stumbling taller man out while explaining what a classic it was in one large slur. They stopped near the edge of the crowd, Francis showing Ivan sloppy moves and Ivan mimicking them precisely, almost robotically. Francis laughed encouragement over the music and then Feli came by and danced with the two of them, fawning over the dancing bear. She grabbed Ivan and spun him around somehow - he almost fell but it seemed to encourage him all the same.
Francis decided to make a request and took off to do so, only remembering his dance partners halfway to the stand. Whoops. He looked back - Ivan and Feli continued to create strange dance moves to Popcorn, so he shrugged and made his way forward.
---
“Ey, ya fuckin’ pervert!” was roared over an ironically-played - or maybe not, this was Feliks - “Bad Romance”. Francis looked over to see a totally trashed Nils - how hilarious. Oh, God, this shouldn’t be so funny - maybe Francis was more drunk than he thought. “You request this’un? Lady-Goddamn-Gaga? Wouldn’t put it past ya,” Nils scowled.
“No, but I see you’re still dancing, dear. You should dance more often,” Francis purred. Or maybe slurred. Who knew at this point.
LATFF [4h/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:43:51 UTC
At this Nils just laughed and careened into Francis, then sang the chorus into his clenched hands, smirking at Francis the entire time through a bloody split lip and that terrifying face paint. Francis laughed so hard he was probably crying - the normally stoic man was singing “Ga-ga oo-la-la” right to him - he yanked Nils closer, and belted out the second verse in return. The chorus came along and they were both alternately singing into each others’ faces, cracking up, and dancing against one another. The bridge came and they paused - stared at each other, panting - and then Francis shoved Nils into a nearby column and they were having a fierce contest to see who could stick their tongue further down the other’s throat.
The song died down and they stumbled their way into deeper, darker, more isolated corners of the warehouse space, clawing at each other the whole time. Nils tasted and smelled of beer, sweat, blood, and smoke - his hair was sticky and matted with spilled alcohol, sweat, paint, and blood mixed and ran down his face - Francis licked down his neck, and Nils turned him around and shoved him into the back wall, grinding against him and groaning. Francis idly noticed that the song he requested had come on, laughed at the irony, and shoved his hands up Nils’ shirt, testing fingers at odds with Nils’ harsh grip on his hip and hand fisted in his collar.
Nils was ripping off his tie, marking up his neck and collarbone with furious kisses - “Christ, s’been ages since ‘ve been with someone,” was slurred harshly against his chest. Francis moaned and wedged a leg between the man’s thighs while reaching an arm up to try and shove off that leather jacket -
- he looked up to see Antonio paused in mid-step, looking at them with a wondering expression. Something seized up in his chest for a moment - Nils didn’t notice Francis freeze against him - and Antonio broke the trance by waving them on and vanishing.
Hands at his belt snapped Francis out of it. “Hey, Nils,” he called softly, grabbing his hands.
Nils looked up, confused.
“I...” Francis looked to the side, called himself a coward, took a deep breath, and looked Nils in the eye again. “We’re both really drunk. This is a bad idea, dear. I’m afraid we have to stop.”
Nils just stared at him with an unreadable expression for a minute, then threw up his arms, said “Fine,” and stormed off.
---
Francis walked up to Jens and Roderich on the sidelines, still attempting to straighten his tie. “Have you seen Antonio?” he asked.
They both looked at him, and he could tell they took everything in in one glance - his mussed clothing, flushed appearance, the paint smeared down his neck and jaw - but they made no comment. Only said that they hadn’t seen him in quite some time, though both of their eyes told him he’d have to explain what was going on later. Even drunk, they were both too polite to ask in the middle of a crowd, and he gave a wan smile in appreciation.
He decided to try his phone out back, again laughing darkly at the irony of the song playing. Don’t feel like dancing, indeed.
---
“You don’t like dancing?”
Ludwig looked over. Natalia was sitting next to him on the floor, beer in hand, leaning in and smiling kindly.
“I can’t really. I mostly mosh, ‘s fun. Guess if I had someone to dance with...” he trailed off, eyes flickering up to the dance floor, then over to where he knew Kiku was. Off near the refreshment table, talking to an obviously drunk steampunk lady.
“Oh,” she smiled, “you like him?”
Ludwig blushed and ducked his head. “He’s nice. We went to an ex...” he stumbled over the word and gave himself a second - “exhibit the other week.”
“I know.”
He looked at her with both normal confusion and the type that comes from being really, really drunk.
“You mentioned it earlier,” she stated matter-of-factly, sipping her beer. She turned to him then - “you like him,” she smirked and hit his arm. “Go talk to him! I know he’s been with guys before, go hit on him.”
LATFF [4i/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:44:56 UTC
---
“I love this DJ,” Anja laughed, looking at Arthur.
“I sure don’t,” he grumbled.
“Ha! You’re just upset he played Lady Gaga. Or was it the Scissor Sisters that did it?”
Arthur didn’t say anything, just drank more and watched the lights flicker over the blood smeared on her cheek from a cut in the mosh pit. He couldn’t say anything - it was a close tie as to whether he, Gilbert, or Nils were the most beat up.
“Oh, c’mon. I think he played Idioteque just for the Radiohead bear.” Arthur grumbled something about Radiohead being generic under his breath. Anja rolled her eyes. “Hey, Lovi!” she called.
Lovinia stumbled over and right into Arthur, then complained about him being in her way.
“Hey, look at that Radiohead bear,” Anja pointed to the huge bear in the middle of the crowd.
Lovinia snorted. “What about it?”
“I dunno, I just think it’s cool that there’s a Radiohead bear doing weird robot dance moves to a Radiohead song.”
“I didn’t give a shit either, love,” Arthur confided, head down, eyes up, beer in hand.
“Don’t call me ‘love’, drunk ass,” Lovinia said way too loudly.
Arthur ‘hmphed’ and crossed his arms. “I’m probably the only person who does, prickly thing like you.”
She hit him. “Take that back!”
He pulled back and looked at her with an offended look on his face. “Take it back? Like hell I’m gonna take it back, I meant it. You’re entirely unapproachable - I doubt you could even get one of these nitwits,” he stated, gesturing to the drunk crew nearby.
Lovinia stood motionless, enraged. “Wh- I wouldn’t want to be with one of those pigs!” she finally yelled.
“Betcha can’t, either,” Anja sneered. Arthur caught on and joined in, saying that he knew she was too chickenshit to make a move even on a guy who was obviously a drunk idiot.
It didn’t take much more heckling. Lovinia downed her drink and marched off to the nearby guys, grabbing the first one she came to and smashing their lips together.
Anja and Arthur stood back, nodding and making commentary about how that guy actually had an awesome costume, before Arthur let out a howl and laughingly announced that it was Gilbert the girl had grabbed.
“Oh, please, tell your photo pal - tell ‘im to get this, if nothing else.”
Anja pulled out her phone and sent Alonzo a text - soon enough a flashes came from that corner, though neither party noticed. This only caused more laughter from the two voyeurs. They lit a joint and passed it back and forth, making increasingly lewd jokes about how the evening would end up and how Gilbert should be careful about that other hand, later.
The jokes ended and the joint ran out. Arthur looked over to the taller woman and mildly said “So, you wanna go listen to records?”
She smacked him upside the head. “Just ask if I’ll bang you already, jerk.”
“Will you bang me already?”
She snorted. “Let’s go listen to records.”
---
“Hi, Kiku,” Ludwig nodded, standing a little awkwardly by the table and trying not to sway in place.
“Hello, Ludwig.”
“Ah...Natalia and I were talking...” he started; Kiku simply nodded for him to go on. “And she said that I should hit on you,” he finished quickly.
Kiku stood there a moment, looking a bit confused, then asked “And she said this why?”
“Well, because I think you’re very attractive, and have many interesting and diverse hobbies, and like very good music,” Ludwig articulated slowly, carefully, and ticked his reasons off with his fingers.
“Those are good reasons,” Kiku agreed with a small smile. “Though your hitting on me seems odd.”
Ludwig blushed. “I’m sorry.”
Kiku let out a small laugh. “Perhaps,” he began, “you call me tomorrow, sober, and ask me on a date. I would prefer that to you hitting on me.”
A nod, and Ludwig whipped out his phone to put a reminder in. “Do you have a preference for when I call?” he asked.
LATFF [4j/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:46:05 UTC
---
All Gilbert really knew was one moment he was making out and the next he was getting dragged outside by some guy who he at first thought was Feliks - hey, the guy was wearing gold hot pants. But the gruff “Fuck you, you little mongrel freak, I wanted to get with that one,” told him that, no, Feliks was not tossing him to the sidewalk at the moment.
He looked up and forgot to be angry. “Holy shit, Xerxes!” he shouted.
Xerxes raised an eyebrow and then broke out into a grin. “You’re the first guy who’s guessed all damn evening!”
“What?!” Gilbert squawked, still sprawled on the pavement. “Lookit you! That outfit is goddamn amazing - are those real piercings?” he asked, sitting up and slowly rising, world spinning a little, rubbing his neck.
“Yep,” Xerxes smirked. “Name’s Sadiq, by the way,” he held out his hand.
“Gilbert,” he shook with his non-scissored hand. “You know, though, you need some more blood. You’ve read the comics?”
Sadiq nodded.
“Yeah. Definitely, needs more blood. I know he doesn’t get bloody or anything in the book, but blood instantly makes any costume way more awesome,” Gilbert shot a wicked smirk as he pulled out a couple of Nils’ bottles of fake blood from his boot straps. “Stole these from my roommate earlier,” he casually mentioned.
“Ha!” Sadiq crowed. “You better be thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’.”
“Probably,” Gilbert replied. “You wanna go first, babe?”
“Well, if the gentleman insists,” Sadiq laughed, then grabbed a bottle, uncapped it, and swiped his arm in a downward arc that let loose a spray all over Gilbert’s front. Gilbert let out a crazed laugh, fake blood dripping down onto his teeth.
Sadiq spread his arms out and turned in an arc - Gilbert slammed his hand down on the bottom of the bottle, causing a gush of blood to spill all over Sadiq’s head. Sadiq tried to spray again with a bark of laughter, but Gilbert hopped out of the way, cackling.
The moon fell low into the sky, casting everything in that mysterious light where everything is sharp and shadowed all at once; the two forgot about the rest of the party, only focused on their oddly playful moonlit bloodbath-dance in the street.
---
Ivan pulled off his bear head and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes, attempting to catch his breath. He should get some water, but - he looked around - where was it?
“Hey! Been tryin’ to run into ya all evening, but,” Alfred huffed, throwing himself against the wall where Ivan was, “I dunno, guess I keep getting distracted,” he finally laughed. “Sure isn’t because I can’t find you, eh?” He punched Ivan’s arm.
They talked about Radiohead initially, of course, and in the middle of it Alfred ran off to get some water for the two of them - once he came back they ended up on the subject of costumes, and finally how much they both really loved Michel Gondry.
Ivan was in the middle of “I like the childlike qualities of his films” when Kiku came over and coughed mildly.
“Oh, whoa, are you that girl from Lain?!” Alfred asked before anyone else got a word in.
“Ah...no,” Kiku said while Ivan answered with “He is Max. From Where the Wild Things Are?”
“Hahah oh! Duh!” Alfred laughed, slamming a palm down on Kiku’s shoulder. He then moved back and looked between the two of them before announcing how cute it was that they both came as creatures.
Ivan and Kiku looked at each other and blushed, seemingly noticing this for the first time. Alfred didn’t notice the awkwardness and began interrogating Kiku about if he liked Tetris as much as Ivan did, and oh, they should just come over and have a tournament then - or, because he also had MarioKart, they could play that -
“Could we?” Ivan asked.
Alfred nodded enthusiastically, the helmet making him look like a bobblehead.
LATFF [4k/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 11:50:39 UTC
The sky was barely beginning to brighten to a bolder shade of blue, moon vanishing behind the cityscape but stars still bright in the dark sky. Sadiq and Gilbert were leaning against one another, seated on the edge of the street gutter, discussing Edward Scissorhands.
“I mean - hic - it’s my favorite movie,” Gilbert was slurring to an emphatically nodding Sadiq.
“Edward’s so fuckin’ pure,” Sadiq said. “Just, ya know, does stuff...because it makes his woman happy....” he trailed off.
“I know! I - fuckin’ - I know, dude! And, and Kim! She just -”
“Just leaves him!”
“But, but man,” Gilbert shook his head. “Those townieshits-”
“-brainless suburban fuckers -” Sadiq snarled.
“ - yeah, them - they would have...have killed ‘im! It wasss....sacrifice, you know?”
“Dude, yeah, got ya.”
“She loved that weirdo motherfucker. And never - hic - went back! Never went back?!” Gilbert looked imploringly over to Sadiq.
Sadiq sat motionless for a minute, staring at the street. “...yeah. ‘S rough.”
Gilbert scraped his scissors on the pavement. “I dun’ think I could do that,” he tried to state casually.
“Eh?” Sadiq looked up.
“Not see - see someone I loved ever again. ‘m too selfish,” he shrugged. “S’what my last ex told me, least.”
“Mmmm, exes,” Sadiq laughed, but it was a bitter thing. “Fuck that.”
“Psh, really. No more ‘o that tonight.”
Sadiq finished the last of Gilbert’s flask and hummed a tune Gilbert couldn’t quite place.
“S’at?”
Sadiq laughed and threw an arm around Gilbert’s shoulders before belting out “Not. One. More. Woooooord tonight,” into the night. Gilbert placed it immediately and the two began an off-key duet with the stars as a twinkling, captive audience in their drunken minds.
---
Alfred, Ivan, and Kiku stumbled into the middle of the performance. Alfred immediately jumped in, hopping into the middle of the deserted street and facing the two, throwing an arm out, while Ivan and Kiku shot confused glances at one another.
They extended the end a bit further than necessary and finally Alfred broke it up with loud chattering. “Hey, so Gil man, me, an’ Ivan, an’ Ivan’s pal - we’re gonna go home and play video games until we pass out. You coming?”
“Can we - can we smoke some weed?”
“Yeah, sure, let’s do it!” Alfred reached down and hauled Gilbert up, steadying him when he almost fell over.
“Okay - you - hic - wanna come, Sadiq?”
Sadiq waved them off. “Nah, I should get to sleep.”
“Kay, see ya around,” Gilbert called. He turned around. “You two - if you’re goin’, you’re goin’. C’mon.” He began to head down the street, Ivan and Kiku following.
Alfred looked at Sadiq a second. “You sure? Yeah? Alright. Sweet costume, by the way!” he said, then turned around and ran to catch up with the rest of them at the end of the street.
---
Good Lord. What a chapter. Will probably take a breather for a bit after this one O.o Anyway, here are some links to costumes that might need to be clarified (remove the spaces):
Norway - Per Yngve Ohlin - warning, blood! - h ttp://i170.photobuc ket.com/albums/u248/darklore666/dead33.jpg
Poland - Margot Tenenbaum from The Royal Tenenbaums - h ttp://img.photob ucket.com/albums/v56/ottoautopilot/margot-bus.jpg
France and Spain - Daft Punk - I imagine that France would dress it up a little -htt p://ww w.smh.com.au/ffximage/2007/12/13/daft_punk_narrowweb__300x452,2.jpg
Germania, Denmark, Netherlands - The Nihilists from The Big Lebowski - except instead of looking derpy they ended up looking insane/fucking terrifying - h ttp://ww w.tifr.us/storage/post-images/The-Big-Lebowski-Nihilists.jpg
Rome - John Oates of Hall and Oates - ht tp://ww w.hearya.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/12/john-oates.jpg
Russia - Radiohead bear - IVAN YOU CREEPER ILU - ht tp://farm3.static.flic kr.com/2202/2473968159_d18d92976a.jpg?v=0
Re: LATFF [4k/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 16:40:39 UTC
OH GOD I WANT TO GO TO THIS PARTY
Seriously, I know this shit is going down all over the place but where, WHERE?? Soon I'll be too old for it!!
ANYWAY. As ever, loving the random pairings. Loving the music, loving the costumes (Daft Punk ^_^). As a massive Radiohead fan my fave bit was bear!Ivan robot-dancing to Idioteque. An awesome mental image.
FRANCIS AND ANTONIO AS DAFT PUNK THERE IS SO MUCH RIGHT WITH THIS.
I loooooved Ludwig's exchanges. Baaaw he's so precious ahahha And I also love how Natalia gets the moves put on her so often, and her personality, and pretty much everything you've done so far ahhh
KINDA DREADING WHAT'S TO COME WITH FRANCIS AND ANTONOIO NOW TBH ;-; hoping for their happy ending aksjeae
sososo another amazing chapter thank youuuuuuu, i can't say this enough. oh and DAT MUSIC < 3
Re: LATFF [4k/?]
anonymous
September 1 2010, 19:45:51 UTC
Holy crap, how DO you write so much so fast?
This is totally random, but did you know that albinos generally can't dye their hair? The dye apparently doesn't stick, it's a different texture because of the lack of melanin or something. If I got it right, it's possible to dye it temporarily, though, like Gilbo did here.
Btw, my absolute favourite part: Ludwig "hitting on" Kiku. Also why aren't Gilbert and Sadiq paired off more often?
author!anon
anonymous
September 4 2010, 13:48:04 UTC
Uh...firstly, I had some downtime :D Secondly, the hard (but super fun) part was making my character sheet for this - outlining personalities and figuring out how to translate their personalities into hobbies and relationships. With that out of the way, I just kinda wind them up and they write themselves. Actually sometimes they don't listen to their prompts, either - in my outline Gilbert and Sadiq were supposed to get into a brawl, but then they went "AHAHAH fuck you - we're gonna be giant bros and have fun instead." And Ludwig was supposed to get inappropriately drunk and hit on Kiku like a normal person would, but he was like "No, I can still do this appropriately. It will just take longer. I have to go slowly. I must be careful." Sigh, Ludwig.
And now to expose how much of a giant derp I am - I actually did look up if albinos could dye their hair! It's really weird...seems like some people can't at all, some people get weird colors when they try, and some people can never get dye out once it goes in. Temporary dye seems to be okay for the most part though.
“Hey!” Feliks called. “I helped with your hair, Gilbert! And you would have been, like, totally screwed without Nils to help with the outfit.”
Nils nodded.
“This way,” Arthur said, and led Gilbert and Nils to a storage closet in the hallway. “So you’re a death metal guy?” He nodded to Nils’ painted face and torn leather getup.
“Per Yngve Ohlin - better known as Dead, from Mayhem,” Nils corrected.
“Under the jacket - he’s got fake blood smeared all over his arms,” Gilbert cut in. “The guy was so badass he slit his wrists and then composed the goddamn suicide note!”
Arthur stood back and whistled. “Well fuck me, you’re a dead ringer for ‘im. Okay, just throw your shit in here,” he gestured to the mostly-bare closet.
---
Antonio, wearing some kind of odd helmet and leather, came over to chat with Ludwig, and Alfred made a beeline to Elizabeta and began whining that he should DJ until more people came - and then Ludwig could take over, he promised.
“Ludwig, do you mind?” she called to him.
He smiled at Alfred. “No. I’ve got an iPod jack here, CD player here, and record player here,” he showed Alfred the setup, pointing out each item in turn. Alfred managed to shove his iPod onto the jack despite his gloved hands, and immediately began blasting “Drunk Girls” by LCD Soundsystem.
“Alfred!” Feliks snapped. “This is a total drunk song! It’s called Drunk Girls! You don’t play that, like, until that party’s actually swinging!”
“Nah dude, you gotta start things off with a bang!” Alfred laughed, the noise making a tinny echo in his helmet.
“You’re just impatient,” Feliks yelled over the music.
The main lights went off and Feliks’ party lights went on. “See,” Alfred pointed to Gilbert, who was jokingly grinding against Antonio on the ‘dance floor’ - “Gil and I start the party! Plus, I’ve got Dan Deacon and Outkast in the works, it’s cool. Go dance, man!”
Feliks shrugged, put his coat behind some speakers, and joined the tiny dance floor that had started with Gilbert and Antonio. Soon Elizabeta, an Amy Winehouse, some Rockabillies, and a pretty good Deadmau5 had joined in.
---
Meanwhile, Arthur and Nils were sitting on Arthur’s bed, flipping through various zines and drinking Arthur’s homebrew.
Nils didn’t realize he’d finished his bottle until Arthur shoved another into his hand and opened it for him. He laughed a bit, already tipsy. “Wow, didn’t realize I’d finished it. It’s really good,” he said.
“Thanks,” Arthur replied. “Wanted something that tasted good, didn’t have a piss-poor ABV, and didn’t cost an arm. Had to make it myself.”
“Oh? What’s the ABV?”
“Well, the recipe I used, could be anywhere from 8 to 12 percent.”
“Shit!” Nils exclaimed. “We drank a little at the house - I’m gonna be smashed before midnight!”
Arthur cuffed him and shouted “That’s the spirit!” Nils groaned.
---
Ludwig was taking over his post from a protesting Alfred when Alfred was distracted by the troupe that entered the room. “Whoa, they look fancy!” he pointed to Eirik, Natalia, and Bella, not actually realizing who they were. “All old-fashioned, ya know? Don’t girls dressed like that have, er, a name or something? What’re they called?”
“Flappers?”
“Ha! Yeah, man, Ludwig, how do you know everything?”
Two giggling figures soon followed the 20’s socialites - they were unmistakably Andy Warhol and Debbie Harry. A girl in a hat that made her look like a jellyfish appeared out of nowhere, then ran up and tackled both from behind in a massive hug. “Whoa!” Alfred exclaimed, “I need to see that hat!” and he took off.
One of the flappers came up to Ludwig, and it took him a minute to realize it was Natalia with her short brown bob. “I assume that is a wig?” he gestured to her hair.
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“Oh, I’m, ah, playing from my iPod right now, but it’s La Dolce Vita by Sparks,” he handed it to her.
“So what’s next?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I was trying to decide between DJ Koze’s remix of Minimal or the original version.”
“I’ve heard the DJ Koze version,” she replied, “but - do you have his Atlas remix?” A nod. “Play that, it’s a little milder. The night’s young.”
Ludwig nodded and put it next in the playlist. For a bit they both stood, picked out what to play, discussed electronica and ambient music, and watched Tina and Feli, as Andy Warhol and a jellyfish, respectively, bring the dance floor up to the next level. The two chipper girls managed to pull an Old Greg, a Salvador Dali, and some legos in to join.
---
Eirik, Bella, and Lili were passing around a bottle of whiskey in a brown paper bag. Bella grimaced after taking a swig, saying “I wish we could make some old-school cocktails, pretend we were at a speakeasy.”
“We could have stayed home and done just that,” Eirik responded, crossing his arms.
“No way!” Lili said. “You two look amazing! You make a lovely Jay, Eirik, and Bella, you have just the right hair to pull off Daisy’s style. It would be a shame for no one to see you.”
“You should have been Myrtle,” Bella said. “Or just a flapper.”
“I don’t like Myrtle; I would’ve been Jordan, but I think Natalia’s better suited anyway. She’s more athletic, you know? Plus that wig looks great on her!”
“I think you look great as Debbie Harry,” Eirik muttered, looking across the room, catching the eye of a familiar-looking metalhead, and glaring at him.
---
Wow, was that Eirik kid ever giving him the evil eye. Nevermind saying hi, then. Nils finished his beer (how many was that, now?) in one gulp and searched around for someone else to talk to.
Aha - Jack Skellington enters the building! Nils walked up to him, smirking and nodding his approval. They talked for a bit, until Lili came up to say how great Roderich looked - Nils laughed and said “I’ll leave you two at it,” and took off.
Roderich scowled behind his mask at Nils’ retreating back and blushed, while Lili just tilted her head curiously.
“Your friend is a bit odd,” she finally broke the silence with.
He coughed; it sounded muffled and strange within the rubber mask. “I’m still unsure as to why Francis hired him, to be honest,” he replied.
“Oh! I mean, he seems alright, just, you know, a little strange.”
Roderich was about to reply that the entire store was a little strange when he was tackled in the side by an overenthusiastic....jellyfish?
“Roddy! Hello! Francis told me that you were coming as Jack Skellington and that he had helped tailor it and I wanted to see,” Feli ran her hands around the seams of his suit while he tried to scoot away, then grabbed a cuff to examine it. “Oh, and you even got skeleton gloves, how cute!” she squealed. She ran her hands up the fabric of his jacket, commented on the material, and then unbuttoned it to see the shirt underneath. As he was trying to cut through her jabber and get her off, Lili excused herself and vanished.
“Roderich, this is great! I wish I could sew as well as Francis - he really has an eye for the cut of something, don’t you think? And have you seen him? I’ve got a new exhibition opening at the gallery - ooo, you need to come see it, remind me and I’ll tell you the date - and I have some new clothes to show Francis too, you haven’t seen him around have you?”
He finally got her off of him, but she just grabbed his hands and looked up at him through the purple tentacle-veil with large brown eyes. “No, no, I don’t think he has arrived yet, Feli.”
Her face fell. “Well, let me know when he gets here! I’m gonna go dance now - want to dance?!”
“Ah, no thank you, I’m going to fetch myself a drink first.” I need it, he thought.
---
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Something slow-building and techno-ish was blasting through the speakers when an impeccably-suited, shiny-helmeted Francis entered, surrounded by a large crew which included Jens, Mathias, Heracles, Anja, a scowling Lovinia, and Katya. Alonzo, Sadiq, Cindy, Michelle, Mai, and a few other women trailed in shortly after, the girls tittering around the two men who were laughing and flirting like it was their job.
“Francis, let’s dance!” Michelle - dressed as a Native American - shouted, tugging on his tie, bracelets jingling.
“We just arrived,” he smiled, forgetting that no one could see through the helmet. “Shouldn’t we mingle a bit first? It is only polite.”
“No, no!” Katya said, her bunny ears flopping as she shook her head. “You’re a member of Daft Punk tonight! Let’s dance!”
“Yeah, go find your matching boy-toy,” Mathias slapped him on the back. “I’m sure he’s out on the dance floor.”
“Well?” Francis turned to the rest of the crew and raised a half-bent arm into the air, letting his hand limply gesture toward the dance floor, palm-up. “Who else would like to join me?”
Immediately Heracles and Katya moved to him, Heracles scratching the painted whiskers on his face. Michelle grabbed a cowgirl and a fawn - Cindy and Mei, respectively - and led the charge to the dance floor, laughing about how she was going to request some Baile Funk as soon as they got there.
Anja and Lovinia stood off the side, arms crossed, and Lovinia muttered “I can’t believe I’m wearing this.”
“You look ace in a steampunk outfit, I don’t know why you’re bitching about it,” a black-clad Anja retorted.
Lovinia huffed. “I don’t know why I even listen to you.”
Anja barked a laugh and threw an arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders, shaking her around while crooning “Because you looooove me, Lovi, we’re the bestest friends.”
“Stop that!” Lovinia shoved her off and attempted to pull her vest lower over her exposed abdomen.
“Ey, you two!” Mathias called. “We’re gonna go spike the punch bowl!” he grinned, holding up a bottle of Everclear. He yanked Jens - who was also wearing entirely black, but wearing round black plastic frames, a black bike helmet, and holding a cricket bat - and set off to the other end of the room.
Anja shrugged and followed the rest of them to the table, Lovinia reluctantly following.
---
“Wow, what are you?”
Sadiq looked to his right - a cute flapper with a short brown bob was looking him over, frowning. He braced an arm against the table and leaned back, smirking. “Xerxes, of course.”
She just frowned further.
He took a sip of his drink and resumed with “Otherwise known as Xerxes the Great, or Xerxes I of Persia.” Nothing.
“Whoa, wait,” Mathias interjected. “You’re actually in costume? You dress like this every day.”
“You dipshit, since when do I wear gold shorts around every day?” An incredulous stare. “Okay, shut up, but - I’m Xerxes! From 300, you know? Except Miller’s comic version, the movie sucked,” he snorted.
“Wait,” the girl narrowed her eyes. “So are those piercings real? And what are you?” she asked, pointing to Mathias, who was wearing all black, huge combat boots, topped with a tight black shirt with a hood over his head.
“Ve’re nihilists! Ve belief in nossing!” Mathias shouted while throwing a stuffed creature at Jens’ head.
Natalia stared and contemplated going back to talk to someone sane. Like Ludwig. “Riiiight,” she finally got out.
“They’re idiots, and yeah - “ Sadiq pointed to his face - “the piercings are real. Wanna drink?”
“We took over the punch bowl,” Alonzo chimed in, dumping something fruity into it.
Some disco-y remix filled the air, and Sadiq turned to Natalia and asked if she wanted to dance. She crossed her arms and said “Lay off - I am way younger than all of you, I know - and besides,” she sniffed, “you have enough girls around.” Mathias elbowed Alonzo in the side and made a joke about cradle robbing - Sadiq joined in the fun and made fun of Alozono’s “pedo-stache.”
“Hey, c’mon!’ Alonzo griped, “I’m John Oates, here! Who wouldn’t want to get with John Oates?”
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Natalia groaned and said “You’re those guys?!”
---
“Hey!” Nils shouted to the giant, half-shadowed bear in the corner, “you shouldn’t be hanging out in corners in that crrrreepy Radiohead bear suit!”
Ivan looked up, surprised. “You like Radiohead?”
“Pshyeeeah, but that’s not the point,” Nils stated, shoving his finger into Ivan’s chest. “You - you need to get out. Out there. You know. See people. Since I assume you’re Ivan under there.”
“I don’t want to dance,” Ivan replied timidly, shuffling his feet in the bear suit.
Nils snorted. “Drink morrre. Always works. What do you drink?”
“Ah, vodka, norm-”
“Okay, calllllm down. I’m just going to go, and get some vodka from my supply, and we’ll be allllll coooool,” Nils made a sweeping motion with one arm, letting his eyelids shut halfway before turning a bit too abruptly and taking off toward the hallway.
Ivan stared confusedly at the retreating man, took off the bear head, dug his flask out of his shirt pocket, and finished it off. Barely a minute later Nils came back, and true to his word, he had a mostly-full bottle of vodka with him.
The next twenty-five minutes were spent with both of them trying to ingest enough liquid courage to make it to the dance floor, Nils constantly goading a seemingly-sober Ivan to drink more, arguing over the best Radiohead album, and commenting on their favorite Halloween costumes as they went by.
---
Natalia was tolerating the company of the local idiots, looking at the pictures Alonzo was showing her of the night so far with a bit of interest, when Bella careened right into her, shouting “Natalia!” and giggling inanely.
Natalia raised an eyebrow at her friend.
“I asked the DJ to play a few songs for us - we can bust out a few of the old-school dances we learned back in high school! And in costume!” Bella exclaimed excitedly.
A fierce frown made its way to Natalia’s face. “Dances?”
“Oh, c’mon!” Bella said, shaking Natalia’s arm. “The first one’s gonna start soon - it’d be perfect to do the Charleston to!”
“You are so lucky I’ve been drinking,” Natalia finally said. Which was enough of an agreement.
Bella laughed and said “If you were sober there is no way I would do this! What do you think - Charleston to B-52’s? Eirik said he’d waltz with us, costume and all, if we did!”
“52 Girls” began playing and Bella looked at her friend with pleading eyes. “Fine,” Natalia sighed as Bella dragged her over to where Feli and Tina were dancing, Eirik standing to the side with a frown.
---
Fiest’s “1234” followed, and Bella and Natalia stopped the energetic Charleston and began an elegant waltz, by this point so engrossed in the enjoyment their dancing that they didn’t notice that most of the floor was taking a bit of a breather and mingling, admiring costumes. Lili pulled a shy Eirik in. With Tina and Feli pulling in random passerby, they quickly amassed a small dance circle; several people began some improvised dancing around the four immacuately-dressed pretty young things, giving them space to execute some skillful moves. There were a few cheers and cat-calls.
A de-helmeted Francis snatched Roderich from the sidelines at the end of “1234”, saying “Roderich, darling, there is a waltz going on! You are participating - you yourself taught me how, my dear!”
Roderich didn’t have to think too hard about it. All factors pointed to him going out there: he was drunk, Francis was a persistent bastard, they were, oddly enough, dressed for the part, and this was actually a dance he could do. Quite well. Expertly, even. “Okay, I will.” He put down his skeleton mask, tore off the ski mask, wiped his face with it, balled it up and shoved it in the skull.
The small dance crew had drawn a humble crowd by the time Hall and Oates’ “Rich Girl” came on. Bella threw Natalia to Eirik and grabbed Lili, who was nearby.
Roderich and Francis slipped in, and quickly became the best two on the dance floor.
---
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Sadiq wandered over to the Skellington mask and picked it up, holding it out at arm’s length and having a short staring contest. He looked at it, to Mathias, to it, to Mathias, then shrugged. He walked over to where Mathias was standing talking to Alonzo and a few girls, and shoved it on the Nihilist’s head to raucous laughter.
Mathias, in retaliation, swept up Sadiq into a farce of a dance; it quickly devolved into serenading John Oates with his own song, Mathias down on one knee in front of Alonzo, Sadiq draped over his shoulder with an arm out, soulfully belting out “say money money won’t get you too far!” and shaking his head mournfully against Alonzo’s.
Alonzo refused to sing, just laughed and took pictures.
---
“Rich Girl” was fading out and Francis twirled Roderich out on his arm expertly - right in front of Lili and Bella. “Would you take care of my friend for me?” Francis winked to Lili and held out Roderich’s arm out to her. Roderich had enough alcohol bubbling through his system by now that he just laughed, and asked “Would you happen to know how to Foxtrot?”
The opening strains to “Dancing in the Moonlight” came on over the speakers in that moment; she laughed and squealed “Oh my God, this is one of my favorite songs!” and grabbed Roderich while shouting “lead the way, sir!”
They giddily skipped around the floor, laughing, sloppy-drunk, tripping and light on their feet. Francis and Bella grabbed each other and continued a happy, drunken, semi-waltz that ended up being mostly silly flourishes - Feli and Tina switched between each other and Natalia and Eirik as partners - others from the party joined in with swaying and arms in the air, sometimes randomly swinging complete strangers, Feliks’ disco lights shining across everyone like fairytale glimmers over the laughter in that moment.
“Whup,” Roderich laughed as Lili forgot the corner turn and smashed into him; she let out a too-loud laugh and yanked him around instead, becoming the lead. Roderich, a much better dancer, took it up gracefully.
“I’m surprised you know the Foxtrot,” he breathlessly laughed between steps. Her airy, warm exhalations tickled his neck and a sudden wave of lightheadedness made him miss a step.
“Oh, my friends taught me a lot of dances in high school - they both grew up dancing,” she replied while spontaneously turning him in the middle of the promenade. She was too short and the move too sudden; they got tangled in one another halfway through. They twisted back to face each other, faces flushed, trying to get back into rhythm through their cackling.
“Do you know the Baltimore?” Roderich asked. “No? The Charleston? Ah, well then, I should teach you some-” a loud screech cut off the rest of his sentence. Everyone stopped - he looked up and sighed. Mathias was at the DJ stand yelling at “all of you fucking ladies” and swilling some beer. He threw on a record and -
---
“I GOT SOMETHING TO SAY - I KILLED A BABY TODAY” absolutely blasted through the stereo system.
Arthur and Nils roared and had started a two-man mosh pit in time to scream along to “WELL I GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY - I RAPED YOUR MOTHER TODAY!” By the chorus Gilbert, Alfred, Eliza, Anja, Tina, Eirik, Jens and Ludwig had joined the pit and the chant of “sweet lovely death, I am waiting for your breath,” rang out from surprising corners of the warehouse as well as from the writhing crew up front. The more masochistic - Nils, Anja, Arthur, Jens - or thoughtless - Alfred, Tina - of them stayed near Gilbert and his dangerous hand.
“Hey, ya wanna mosh?” Feliks asked the Nihilist. The Nihilist looked at him and asked if he was going to make a joke if he said yes. “No, seriously. Gimme some tracks and I’ll play ‘em,” Feliks replied. He left off the ‘and take over the DJ booth once I’m done’ part of the deal. The Nihilist put on the Dead Kennedys’ “California Über Alles” before scooping up a few records and scratching down a few songs for Feliks to play. Then he was off and in the mess. Feliks looked the list over: Jay Reatard, Buzzcocks, Replacements, Descendants. He scratched off “What Do I Get?” - not good for moshing, jeez dude, really? - and added in “Blitzkrieg Bop” instead. A classic.
---
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Francis leaned against the back wall and addressed the creepy bear next to him. “I liked the waltzing better,” he said sadly.
The bear nodded to the pit, whose members were all holding each other, throwing up fists, swaying and shouting along to the bridge of “California Über Alles” in punk solidarity. “It is entertaining, though,” he rumbled. The song started up again and chaos reigned once more, beer flying everywhere within a ten-foot radius of the pit and all over those involved. Especially during the chorus, which prompted fist-pumps from beer-holding hands, Ivan noted.
Another song started, even harder moshing began and beer, bottles, and costume parts flew through the air. Francis frowned and disparagingly talked about how gross anyone in the pit now was. Ivan shrugged, content to watch with sharp eyes.
“Ah, you like this music, no?” Francis asked between songs.
“It is...okay,” Ivan replied. “I like more ambient things.” The Ramones came on and Ivan smiled. “I do like this one a lot.”
Francis smiled. “It’s hard not to.”
Ivan handed over his bottle of vodka to Francis while both watched the proceedings. Francis took a long swig and scowled at the taste, but thanked the large man anyway. They passed the bottle back and forth while Francis tried to persuade Ivan to dance once the “punk nonsense” stopped. Ivan shrugged and tapped his foot along to the almost dancey beat of “Seen Your Video”.
“Ah, see?” Francis exclaimed. “You want to dance!” He nodded along and moved his hips to encourage the other. The two stood and bopped along until Francis noticed Feliks waving his way, and elbowed Ivan.
“He is certainly going to take over,” he smirked to Ivan, leaning a bit too far in and falling shoulder-first into Ivan. He laughed. Ivan didn’t know what that meant and was too drunk to pay much attention to Francis falling into him, so he said nothing.
“Hanging on the Telephone” came on next, which apparently was enough of a classic for the mosh crew; the rest of the party decided it was safe to join in the dancing again, and soon the floor was full.
“Want to go?” Francis nudged Ivan. Ivan shook his head but looked unsure. “If he plays a good song next, will you? Look at them - all you have to do is move your head, arms, and hips - the secret is in the hips,” he winked.
The next song came on and Francis let out an odd excited noise through his delighted laughter. “Popcorn! Ivan - come on,” and he dragged the stumbling taller man out while explaining what a classic it was in one large slur. They stopped near the edge of the crowd, Francis showing Ivan sloppy moves and Ivan mimicking them precisely, almost robotically. Francis laughed encouragement over the music and then Feli came by and danced with the two of them, fawning over the dancing bear. She grabbed Ivan and spun him around somehow - he almost fell but it seemed to encourage him all the same.
Francis decided to make a request and took off to do so, only remembering his dance partners halfway to the stand. Whoops. He looked back - Ivan and Feli continued to create strange dance moves to Popcorn, so he shrugged and made his way forward.
---
“Ey, ya fuckin’ pervert!” was roared over an ironically-played - or maybe not, this was Feliks - “Bad Romance”. Francis looked over to see a totally trashed Nils - how hilarious. Oh, God, this shouldn’t be so funny - maybe Francis was more drunk than he thought. “You request this’un? Lady-Goddamn-Gaga? Wouldn’t put it past ya,” Nils scowled.
“No, but I see you’re still dancing, dear. You should dance more often,” Francis purred. Or maybe slurred. Who knew at this point.
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The song died down and they stumbled their way into deeper, darker, more isolated corners of the warehouse space, clawing at each other the whole time. Nils tasted and smelled of beer, sweat, blood, and smoke - his hair was sticky and matted with spilled alcohol, sweat, paint, and blood mixed and ran down his face - Francis licked down his neck, and Nils turned him around and shoved him into the back wall, grinding against him and groaning. Francis idly noticed that the song he requested had come on, laughed at the irony, and shoved his hands up Nils’ shirt, testing fingers at odds with Nils’ harsh grip on his hip and hand fisted in his collar.
Nils was ripping off his tie, marking up his neck and collarbone with furious kisses - “Christ, s’been ages since ‘ve been with someone,” was slurred harshly against his chest. Francis moaned and wedged a leg between the man’s thighs while reaching an arm up to try and shove off that leather jacket -
- he looked up to see Antonio paused in mid-step, looking at them with a wondering expression. Something seized up in his chest for a moment - Nils didn’t notice Francis freeze against him - and Antonio broke the trance by waving them on and vanishing.
Hands at his belt snapped Francis out of it. “Hey, Nils,” he called softly, grabbing his hands.
Nils looked up, confused.
“I...” Francis looked to the side, called himself a coward, took a deep breath, and looked Nils in the eye again. “We’re both really drunk. This is a bad idea, dear. I’m afraid we have to stop.”
Nils just stared at him with an unreadable expression for a minute, then threw up his arms, said “Fine,” and stormed off.
---
Francis walked up to Jens and Roderich on the sidelines, still attempting to straighten his tie. “Have you seen Antonio?” he asked.
They both looked at him, and he could tell they took everything in in one glance - his mussed clothing, flushed appearance, the paint smeared down his neck and jaw - but they made no comment. Only said that they hadn’t seen him in quite some time, though both of their eyes told him he’d have to explain what was going on later. Even drunk, they were both too polite to ask in the middle of a crowd, and he gave a wan smile in appreciation.
He decided to try his phone out back, again laughing darkly at the irony of the song playing. Don’t feel like dancing, indeed.
---
“You don’t like dancing?”
Ludwig looked over. Natalia was sitting next to him on the floor, beer in hand, leaning in and smiling kindly.
“I can’t really. I mostly mosh, ‘s fun. Guess if I had someone to dance with...” he trailed off, eyes flickering up to the dance floor, then over to where he knew Kiku was. Off near the refreshment table, talking to an obviously drunk steampunk lady.
“Oh,” she smiled, “you like him?”
Ludwig blushed and ducked his head. “He’s nice. We went to an ex...” he stumbled over the word and gave himself a second - “exhibit the other week.”
“I know.”
He looked at her with both normal confusion and the type that comes from being really, really drunk.
“You mentioned it earlier,” she stated matter-of-factly, sipping her beer. She turned to him then - “you like him,” she smirked and hit his arm. “Go talk to him! I know he’s been with guys before, go hit on him.”
“...hit on him?”
“Okay, finish your beer, and then hit on him.”
Ludwig frowned and nodded, determined.
---
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“I love this DJ,” Anja laughed, looking at Arthur.
“I sure don’t,” he grumbled.
“Ha! You’re just upset he played Lady Gaga. Or was it the Scissor Sisters that did it?”
Arthur didn’t say anything, just drank more and watched the lights flicker over the blood smeared on her cheek from a cut in the mosh pit. He couldn’t say anything - it was a close tie as to whether he, Gilbert, or Nils were the most beat up.
“Oh, c’mon. I think he played Idioteque just for the Radiohead bear.” Arthur grumbled something about Radiohead being generic under his breath. Anja rolled her eyes. “Hey, Lovi!” she called.
Lovinia stumbled over and right into Arthur, then complained about him being in her way.
“Hey, look at that Radiohead bear,” Anja pointed to the huge bear in the middle of the crowd.
Lovinia snorted. “What about it?”
“I dunno, I just think it’s cool that there’s a Radiohead bear doing weird robot dance moves to a Radiohead song.”
“I didn’t give a shit either, love,” Arthur confided, head down, eyes up, beer in hand.
“Don’t call me ‘love’, drunk ass,” Lovinia said way too loudly.
Arthur ‘hmphed’ and crossed his arms. “I’m probably the only person who does, prickly thing like you.”
She hit him. “Take that back!”
He pulled back and looked at her with an offended look on his face. “Take it back? Like hell I’m gonna take it back, I meant it. You’re entirely unapproachable - I doubt you could even get one of these nitwits,” he stated, gesturing to the drunk crew nearby.
Lovinia stood motionless, enraged. “Wh- I wouldn’t want to be with one of those pigs!” she finally yelled.
“Betcha can’t, either,” Anja sneered. Arthur caught on and joined in, saying that he knew she was too chickenshit to make a move even on a guy who was obviously a drunk idiot.
It didn’t take much more heckling. Lovinia downed her drink and marched off to the nearby guys, grabbing the first one she came to and smashing their lips together.
Anja and Arthur stood back, nodding and making commentary about how that guy actually had an awesome costume, before Arthur let out a howl and laughingly announced that it was Gilbert the girl had grabbed.
“Oh, please, tell your photo pal - tell ‘im to get this, if nothing else.”
Anja pulled out her phone and sent Alonzo a text - soon enough a flashes came from that corner, though neither party noticed. This only caused more laughter from the two voyeurs. They lit a joint and passed it back and forth, making increasingly lewd jokes about how the evening would end up and how Gilbert should be careful about that other hand, later.
The jokes ended and the joint ran out. Arthur looked over to the taller woman and mildly said “So, you wanna go listen to records?”
She smacked him upside the head. “Just ask if I’ll bang you already, jerk.”
“Will you bang me already?”
She snorted. “Let’s go listen to records.”
---
“Hi, Kiku,” Ludwig nodded, standing a little awkwardly by the table and trying not to sway in place.
“Hello, Ludwig.”
“Ah...Natalia and I were talking...” he started; Kiku simply nodded for him to go on. “And she said that I should hit on you,” he finished quickly.
Kiku stood there a moment, looking a bit confused, then asked “And she said this why?”
“Well, because I think you’re very attractive, and have many interesting and diverse hobbies, and like very good music,” Ludwig articulated slowly, carefully, and ticked his reasons off with his fingers.
“Those are good reasons,” Kiku agreed with a small smile. “Though your hitting on me seems odd.”
Ludwig blushed. “I’m sorry.”
Kiku let out a small laugh. “Perhaps,” he began, “you call me tomorrow, sober, and ask me on a date. I would prefer that to you hitting on me.”
A nod, and Ludwig whipped out his phone to put a reminder in. “Do you have a preference for when I call?” he asked.
“Not at all,” Kiku replied.
---
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All Gilbert really knew was one moment he was making out and the next he was getting dragged outside by some guy who he at first thought was Feliks - hey, the guy was wearing gold hot pants. But the gruff “Fuck you, you little mongrel freak, I wanted to get with that one,” told him that, no, Feliks was not tossing him to the sidewalk at the moment.
He looked up and forgot to be angry. “Holy shit, Xerxes!” he shouted.
Xerxes raised an eyebrow and then broke out into a grin. “You’re the first guy who’s guessed all damn evening!”
“What?!” Gilbert squawked, still sprawled on the pavement. “Lookit you! That outfit is goddamn amazing - are those real piercings?” he asked, sitting up and slowly rising, world spinning a little, rubbing his neck.
“Yep,” Xerxes smirked. “Name’s Sadiq, by the way,” he held out his hand.
“Gilbert,” he shook with his non-scissored hand. “You know, though, you need some more blood. You’ve read the comics?”
Sadiq nodded.
“Yeah. Definitely, needs more blood. I know he doesn’t get bloody or anything in the book, but blood instantly makes any costume way more awesome,” Gilbert shot a wicked smirk as he pulled out a couple of Nils’ bottles of fake blood from his boot straps. “Stole these from my roommate earlier,” he casually mentioned.
“Ha!” Sadiq crowed. “You better be thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’.”
“Probably,” Gilbert replied. “You wanna go first, babe?”
“Well, if the gentleman insists,” Sadiq laughed, then grabbed a bottle, uncapped it, and swiped his arm in a downward arc that let loose a spray all over Gilbert’s front. Gilbert let out a crazed laugh, fake blood dripping down onto his teeth.
Sadiq spread his arms out and turned in an arc - Gilbert slammed his hand down on the bottom of the bottle, causing a gush of blood to spill all over Sadiq’s head. Sadiq tried to spray again with a bark of laughter, but Gilbert hopped out of the way, cackling.
The moon fell low into the sky, casting everything in that mysterious light where everything is sharp and shadowed all at once; the two forgot about the rest of the party, only focused on their oddly playful moonlit bloodbath-dance in the street.
---
Ivan pulled off his bear head and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes, attempting to catch his breath. He should get some water, but - he looked around - where was it?
“Hey! Been tryin’ to run into ya all evening, but,” Alfred huffed, throwing himself against the wall where Ivan was, “I dunno, guess I keep getting distracted,” he finally laughed. “Sure isn’t because I can’t find you, eh?” He punched Ivan’s arm.
They talked about Radiohead initially, of course, and in the middle of it Alfred ran off to get some water for the two of them - once he came back they ended up on the subject of costumes, and finally how much they both really loved Michel Gondry.
Ivan was in the middle of “I like the childlike qualities of his films” when Kiku came over and coughed mildly.
“Oh, whoa, are you that girl from Lain?!” Alfred asked before anyone else got a word in.
“Ah...no,” Kiku said while Ivan answered with “He is Max. From Where the Wild Things Are?”
“Hahah oh! Duh!” Alfred laughed, slamming a palm down on Kiku’s shoulder. He then moved back and looked between the two of them before announcing how cute it was that they both came as creatures.
Ivan and Kiku looked at each other and blushed, seemingly noticing this for the first time. Alfred didn’t notice the awkwardness and began interrogating Kiku about if he liked Tetris as much as Ivan did, and oh, they should just come over and have a tournament then - or, because he also had MarioKart, they could play that -
“Could we?” Ivan asked.
Alfred nodded enthusiastically, the helmet making him look like a bobblehead.
“You comin’ too, little Max?” Alfred asked Kiku.
“If that would be okay,” Kiku replied.
“Alrighty! Out into the night!”
---
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“I mean - hic - it’s my favorite movie,” Gilbert was slurring to an emphatically nodding Sadiq.
“Edward’s so fuckin’ pure,” Sadiq said. “Just, ya know, does stuff...because it makes his woman happy....” he trailed off.
“I know! I - fuckin’ - I know, dude! And, and Kim! She just -”
“Just leaves him!”
“But, but man,” Gilbert shook his head. “Those townieshits-”
“-brainless suburban fuckers -” Sadiq snarled.
“ - yeah, them - they would have...have killed ‘im! It wasss....sacrifice, you know?”
“Dude, yeah, got ya.”
“She loved that weirdo motherfucker. And never - hic - went back! Never went back?!” Gilbert looked imploringly over to Sadiq.
Sadiq sat motionless for a minute, staring at the street. “...yeah. ‘S rough.”
Gilbert scraped his scissors on the pavement. “I dun’ think I could do that,” he tried to state casually.
“Eh?” Sadiq looked up.
“Not see - see someone I loved ever again. ‘m too selfish,” he shrugged. “S’what my last ex told me, least.”
“Mmmm, exes,” Sadiq laughed, but it was a bitter thing. “Fuck that.”
“Psh, really. No more ‘o that tonight.”
Sadiq finished the last of Gilbert’s flask and hummed a tune Gilbert couldn’t quite place.
“S’at?”
Sadiq laughed and threw an arm around Gilbert’s shoulders before belting out “Not. One. More. Woooooord tonight,” into the night. Gilbert placed it immediately and the two began an off-key duet with the stars as a twinkling, captive audience in their drunken minds.
---
Alfred, Ivan, and Kiku stumbled into the middle of the performance. Alfred immediately jumped in, hopping into the middle of the deserted street and facing the two, throwing an arm out, while Ivan and Kiku shot confused glances at one another.
They extended the end a bit further than necessary and finally Alfred broke it up with loud chattering. “Hey, so Gil man, me, an’ Ivan, an’ Ivan’s pal - we’re gonna go home and play video games until we pass out. You coming?”
“Can we - can we smoke some weed?”
“Yeah, sure, let’s do it!” Alfred reached down and hauled Gilbert up, steadying him when he almost fell over.
“Okay - you - hic - wanna come, Sadiq?”
Sadiq waved them off. “Nah, I should get to sleep.”
“Kay, see ya around,” Gilbert called. He turned around. “You two - if you’re goin’, you’re goin’. C’mon.” He began to head down the street, Ivan and Kiku following.
Alfred looked at Sadiq a second. “You sure? Yeah? Alright. Sweet costume, by the way!” he said, then turned around and ran to catch up with the rest of them at the end of the street.
---
Good Lord. What a chapter. Will probably take a breather for a bit after this one O.o Anyway, here are some links to costumes that might need to be clarified (remove the spaces):
Germany - I’m thinking Arby’s - ht tp://ww w.flickr.com/photos/87215627@N00/291787471/
Norway - Per Yngve Ohlin - warning, blood! - h ttp://i170.photobuc ket.com/albums/u248/darklore666/dead33.jpg
Poland - Margot Tenenbaum from The Royal Tenenbaums - h ttp://img.photob ucket.com/albums/v56/ottoautopilot/margot-bus.jpg
France and Spain - Daft Punk - I imagine that France would dress it up a little -htt p://ww w.smh.com.au/ffximage/2007/12/13/daft_punk_narrowweb__300x452,2.jpg
Germania, Denmark, Netherlands - The Nihilists from The Big Lebowski - except instead of looking derpy they ended up looking insane/fucking terrifying - h ttp://ww w.tifr.us/storage/post-images/The-Big-Lebowski-Nihilists.jpg
Rome - John Oates of Hall and Oates - ht tp://ww w.hearya.com/wp-content/uploads/2006/12/john-oates.jpg
Russia - Radiohead bear - IVAN YOU CREEPER ILU - ht tp://farm3.static.flic kr.com/2202/2473968159_d18d92976a.jpg?v=0
Oh, and Francis requested Air’s Sexy Boy, FYI.
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Seriously, I know this shit is going down all over the place but where, WHERE?? Soon I'll be too old for it!!
ANYWAY. As ever, loving the random pairings. Loving the music, loving the costumes (Daft Punk ^_^). As a massive Radiohead fan my fave bit was bear!Ivan robot-dancing to Idioteque. An awesome mental image.
... I really want to go to this party.
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I loooooved Ludwig's exchanges. Baaaw he's so precious ahahha
And I also love how Natalia gets the moves put on her so often, and her personality, and pretty much everything you've done so far ahhh
KINDA DREADING WHAT'S TO COME WITH FRANCIS AND ANTONOIO NOW TBH ;-;
hoping for their happy ending aksjeae
sososo another amazing chapter thank youuuuuuu, i can't say this enough.
oh and DAT MUSIC < 3
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This is totally random, but did you know that albinos generally can't dye their hair? The dye apparently doesn't stick, it's a different texture because of the lack of melanin or something. If I got it right, it's possible to dye it temporarily, though, like Gilbo did here.
Btw, my absolute favourite part: Ludwig "hitting on" Kiku. Also why aren't Gilbert and Sadiq paired off more often?
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And now to expose how much of a giant derp I am - I actually did look up if albinos could dye their hair! It's really weird...seems like some people can't at all, some people get weird colors when they try, and some people can never get dye out once it goes in. Temporary dye seems to be okay for the most part though.
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