Pool Party. Yes, I enjoy making TLV playlists. Don't judge me.
Who: Wichita; OPEN. Multiple threads between whoever are welcome, feel free to threadjack if it's open. Private one-on-one threads totally a-ok. It shouldn't get too out of hand, and if it does? Our characters are druuuunk. It's okaaaay.
Where: The pool.
When: Tonight, tonight, tonight.
What: Wichita's having a pool party because she thinks Serena's fragile mental health is at stake. Will warden Claire let her have a few drinks? Also, Rex is celebrating his face. Tallahassee's coming, too. Spike is creepy, but not as creepy as Armand. Brian Moser is hopefully not going to cut a bitch. Frankie is going to hotbox the men's bathroom.
Warnings: Pool sex leads to yeast infections, so don't do it! I'll edit this, but it's probably going to be Bargetame.
Wichita wasn't going to actually show the swimsuit she had underneath her leather jacket and jeans. She wasn't going to flaunt herself in front of what she had gruffly designated as her coworkers. The point of this exercise was to ensure that Serena's mental and emotional health wouldn't continue on the steady decline that Wichita had noticed since the last flood. Serena was a bit of a wild child/party girl combination, and Wichita had come to recognize that getting sloshed was her coping mechanism of choice. Maybe not one Serena was allowed to exercise all the time, but the last flood was bad enough that Wichita thought it merited something familiar to help Serena cope.
There was a cooler full of beer bottles and cans, and she'd even managed to roll a keg with a pump from the bar to the pool. She was suspicious that it might explode upon opening, so she made a mental note not to be the one popping that cherry. Wichita had moved a few card tables and fold-out chairs from various corners of the Barge, because she promised Rex he'd have a place to be a wallflower at. She had mixed a few different things and set out a pitcher with a different colored drink on each table with some white candles stuffed into empty wine bottles. She scowled as she carried the makeshift candle holders from her room to the pool. Columbus' stupid idea to put the candles inside the bottles had seemed like it'd happened forever ago. Thoughts of Columbus made her agitated because she got mental hives when she started reflecting fondly on anything.
Once everything looked nice and neat, she switched on her iPod deck, set the tiger-striped swimming trunks she'd grabbed and modified for Rex down on the seat next to her, and sat down to play solitaire with a deck of cards. She didn't know if any inmates had resolved to show up, so she sat close to the door.
Where: The pool.
When: Tonight, tonight, tonight.
What: Wichita's having a pool party because she thinks Serena's fragile mental health is at stake. Will warden Claire let her have a few drinks? Also, Rex is celebrating his face. Tallahassee's coming, too. Spike is creepy, but not as creepy as Armand. Brian Moser is hopefully not going to cut a bitch. Frankie is going to hotbox the men's bathroom.
Warnings: Pool sex leads to yeast infections, so don't do it! I'll edit this, but it's probably going to be Bargetame.
Wichita wasn't going to actually show the swimsuit she had underneath her leather jacket and jeans. She wasn't going to flaunt herself in front of what she had gruffly designated as her coworkers. The point of this exercise was to ensure that Serena's mental and emotional health wouldn't continue on the steady decline that Wichita had noticed since the last flood. Serena was a bit of a wild child/party girl combination, and Wichita had come to recognize that getting sloshed was her coping mechanism of choice. Maybe not one Serena was allowed to exercise all the time, but the last flood was bad enough that Wichita thought it merited something familiar to help Serena cope.
There was a cooler full of beer bottles and cans, and she'd even managed to roll a keg with a pump from the bar to the pool. She was suspicious that it might explode upon opening, so she made a mental note not to be the one popping that cherry. Wichita had moved a few card tables and fold-out chairs from various corners of the Barge, because she promised Rex he'd have a place to be a wallflower at. She had mixed a few different things and set out a pitcher with a different colored drink on each table with some white candles stuffed into empty wine bottles. She scowled as she carried the makeshift candle holders from her room to the pool. Columbus' stupid idea to put the candles inside the bottles had seemed like it'd happened forever ago. Thoughts of Columbus made her agitated because she got mental hives when she started reflecting fondly on anything.
Once everything looked nice and neat, she switched on her iPod deck, set the tiger-striped swimming trunks she'd grabbed and modified for Rex down on the seat next to her, and sat down to play solitaire with a deck of cards. She didn't know if any inmates had resolved to show up, so she sat close to the door.