I wanna rock and roll all night... [ OPEN ]

[inkstolen]

who ; All the partygoers from partytown and then a bunch of other people who just show up randomly.
what ; The Dave Formerly Known As Sprite's party, thrown in honor of his newfound normalcy!
where ; A rather large party space somewhere in Zone 6
when ; TODAY (before the teleporter-related body-swap event)
warning(s) ; Cake.

Comments

[notjelly]

Camille isn't exactly sure whether she's supposed to bring food or not, but that's never exactly stopped her before. Anyway, it's a party--people can always use more food, right?

So here she is busting in, wearing a mostly human form with a frilly dress and six arms. Each arm is carrying a tray of something--baklava, fruit tarts, three different kinds of cookies, and chocolate cupcakes. The cupcakes are each decorated with orange and white frosting and topped with delicate little orange wings made from sugar. She misses the orange wings, but hey. Humans need to be humans to be happy, or something like that.

"Helloooo, I hope people are hungry!" she chirps, finding bare spots on the tables for her to set down her trays. She stops to admire the cake, whistling in approval.

"Now that is a spectacular cake! Puts my skills to shame, it does."

But anyway. Party time. Camille has to remind herself that she's not here to prank or scare anyone, but she makes no move to put the extra arms away.

[inkstolen]

"Camille!" Marjorie is in attendance, and doesn't even bat an eye at the extra arms. She's seen weirder, since showing up here, and besides; Camille is nice.

"Now, don't be modest," she starts, assisting with orange wing-cake placement, and very quickly becomes distracted, "Oh my gawd, these are adorable! Spun sugar is a lost art, I'm tellin' you."

[notjelly]

"Marjorie! My comrade in baking arms, so to speak!" She beams, really quite glad that someone on this Powers-forsaken hunk of metal can appreciate the delicate art of baking.

"Hu hu, it so is! Not like it's even that difficult, once you get the knack for it. I must admit, I shudder every time I spot those factory-made sugar monstrosities. Gobs of petrified frosting and little more."

[inkstolen]

"I know! You'd think the bastards could at least keep a li'l bit a syrup at the right temperature, but that's just too much fuckin' effort," She grinned. A girl after her own heart, "Don't even taste right, so fuck that excuse, am I right?"

[notjelly]

"Ain't it the truth?" Camille heaves an impressive sigh. "Full of horrid preservatives and too much paraffin. Don't even know how people can eat the shit. But really, I guess the real thing is just too much for people to handle."

She gives an expansive shrug. Other bakers and fakey-fake cooks can do all he horrible things they want with their food, but Camille prides herself on being able to give only the best for her customers.

[inkstolen]

"Some people, anyways."

And because some universal signs of friendship require no further explanation, she offers the opening half of a brofist. Confection sistahs for lyfe.

[notjelly]

Hell yeah terrorist fist jab brofist.

"I guess it's up to gals like up to keep the traditions alive, amirite?"