Dec 25, 2009 15:32
WHO: Everyone
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max guevara,
dean winchester,
lestat,
bernard black,
t'pol,
leonard mccoy,
11-12,
rube sofer,
hayley stark,
angelica sexby/fanshawe,
wichita,
toshiko sato,
the doctor (meta crisis),
libby widmore,
castiel,
tony foster,
captain findthee swing,
mozenrath,
shego,
rayne,
vida bohemme,
aleera,
edward sexby,
merlin,
rose tyler,
jason "jd" dean,
serena van der woodsen,
martha jones,
morgan adams
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It hadn't been a bad Christmas, all things considered, something he was both thankful for and suspicious of. He glanced at every doorway as he walked by for more of that god damned mistle toe, regarded the crowd with his lip curled as if expecting an explosion rather than simple mingling. Really it was one in the same. After he was forty percent certain nothing extreme was going to suddenly pop up and ruin the relative peace he ventured further in, hands folded behind his back to stop from tugging at his sleeve.
[ooc; dress uniforms: http://tos.trekcore.com/gallery/albums/2x10/ ( ... )
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Beneath the cuffs of one of his suit jacket sleeves his infant snake was wrapped around his wrist. He had been given it today and much like a child he couldn't bear to part with it. He wasn't planning on staying the night so he, a clean and quick get attendance in the name of his warden that threw the shindig was all he had in mind for.
JD reached out to pick up a glass of wine from the table and knocked it back like it was a shot, wincing and smacking his lips at the burn before going for another.
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After a moment he adjusted his sleeve over Telemachus and gestured to the dessert table. "They have fudge and pie and crud. It's good." What he meant to say is 'it's good but I could have made it better,' but he was sure that he wouldn't be allowed back on kitchen staff for a while.
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With that Tony drank the wine not like it was a shot, but rather like it was a glass of beer, before forking some pie into his mouth.
"Better than tribble loaf!"
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His brow rose high when Tony stepped in, watching him drink the wine worse than JD had before and rolling his eyes. Kids. "Don't speak with your mouth full kid, it's not a damned barn." He said, fatherly instinct pushing through.
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"Peacocks have temper issues," he said in response, not hinting at anything in particular, and returning with something mixed that certainly looked questionable.
He took a sip of the liquid and sputtered for a moment before knocking it back. "God, I hate parties. I'm surprised no one's having anti-prom." He turned to Tony. "What makes talking with your mouthful in a barn any more appropriate? Unless you're calling him a cow... I have more meat on my bones than he does."
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Tony shrugged. "Maybe someone is." Then he mentioned the cow thing, and Tony laughed. Not that the joke was that funny, but that he remembered his gift from Baby. "You know, one of my presents was a weight loss book. I thought it was from Baby, but you never know..."
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"What on Riza is an anti-prom?" McCoy asked, looking to JD, before frowning. "And don't you go losing anymore weight or I'll have you hooked to one of these archaic feeding tube." He said, turning to Tony.
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"An anti-prom is kind of for the rebels who didn't want to attend the actual dance portion and so they threw a kickback at their place of residence usually twenty... twenty five people at the most, and most of them fornicating the rest getting stoned. It was quite the thing."
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JD tipped his glass back again and swallowed its contents, wavering on his feet a bit and adjusting that cuff of his jacket as he felt Telemachus tighten himself around his wrist in his sleep. "I'm always really hungry," he comment to take the attention off of his antics.
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"Didn't you work in the kitchen?" He asked.
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