RP: Birthday Celebration
Characters: Tracey Davis, others?
Location: Muggle Dance Club, London
Date/Time: July 14, 1999, night
Status/Warning: Open/None
Summary:Happy Birthday Tracey!
Completion: In progress
Till I Come!
Change it and say 'Till I Come'!
Don't Stop:
Don't stop...it's the real sound.
Tracey danced to the music; keeping the rhythm with the sway of her hips. She wore black skirt with safety pins with a pinstripe bustier. Closing her eyes, she let the music overwhelm her as well as the number of bodies that were pressed around her. Today was her birthday and she was celebrating all on her own. Truth of the matter, she didn't really want to do anything major, just dance and drink.
So you want to be free, to live your life the way you wanna be.
Will you give if we cry?
Will we live...or will we die?
Tainted hearts heal with time.
She felt a hand on her arse, which was disrupting the buzz she had from a glass of wine and three whiskies. Spinning around to face the owner of the hand, she grabbed his wrist and twisted until she hurt him grunt in pain. “Keep them to yourself, Thou bootless unchin-snouted giglet!”
She strolled off the dance floor, sashaying her hips toward the bar for another drink.
Besides, all our sons and daughters already know how that feels yeah yeah yeah
Location: Muggle Dance Club, London
Date/Time: July 14, 1999, night
Status/Warning: Open/None
Summary:Happy Birthday Tracey!
Completion: In progress
Till I Come!
Change it and say 'Till I Come'!
Don't Stop:
Don't stop...it's the real sound.
Tracey danced to the music; keeping the rhythm with the sway of her hips. She wore black skirt with safety pins with a pinstripe bustier. Closing her eyes, she let the music overwhelm her as well as the number of bodies that were pressed around her. Today was her birthday and she was celebrating all on her own. Truth of the matter, she didn't really want to do anything major, just dance and drink.
So you want to be free, to live your life the way you wanna be.
Will you give if we cry?
Will we live...or will we die?
Tainted hearts heal with time.
She felt a hand on her arse, which was disrupting the buzz she had from a glass of wine and three whiskies. Spinning around to face the owner of the hand, she grabbed his wrist and twisted until she hurt him grunt in pain. “Keep them to yourself, Thou bootless unchin-snouted giglet!”
She strolled off the dance floor, sashaying her hips toward the bar for another drink.
Besides, all our sons and daughters already know how that feels yeah yeah yeah