Wine's been poured and thank the Lord I've had the napkins freshly pressed... [Party-Thread]

[cookiesandhugs]

Grant Park, on any other day, could be called just a nice little park (or EPIC PARK, seeing as how it appears to have eaten Chicago) where people see other people and other people exercise and some people from different universes fall into Chicago

Comments

[killwithmymind]

Nagi simply intends to eat as many brownies and cookies and other goodies as possible (and be grateful that the party is far enough from the Conrad that he can eat). He'll probably even stick around until people decide to cut the cake.

And he probably won't start conversation with other people, but that won't keep him safe from people starting conversations with him.

[omnomnomface]

Trin totally saw the party invite. And she's been here since the early hours, eating as many cookies as she can stuff into her mouth.

Consequently, she's a little jacked up on sugar right now.

She practically pounces on Nagi, pummeling his shoulder with her fists, giggling and bouncing up and down at the same time. "OH MY GOD MAN, YOU TOO?" she demands. "This party is like the most bitchin'est thing since I don't even KNOW, man! And our concert is TOMORROW, right? We still on for that? Yeah?" She giggles madly, grabs Nagi by the shoulders and shakes him a little bit. She's excited. She can't help it.

The narration is so, so sorry.

[killwithmymind]

No, no. no, manhandling is sooo not allowed. She can punch the air about an inch from Nagi's body instead and shaking is sooo not happening; he doesn't want to drop his current cookie. And Nagi can look at Trin like she sprouted an extra head.

Wait, she does that normally. He can look at her like she's a total freak. It's not that much different from how he looked at her last time they talked.

"Um, yeah." He sounds a little dazed from that much hyper to the face. "Yeah. I got the tickets. Are we taking the bus to get there or stealing a car or what?"

[omnomnomface]

Trin giggles madly. Yes, she's used to being looked at like she's a freak. Even in real life, when she's not a dog; she used to get those looks even before she got her wings.

"WELL, if you wanna be chicken we can take the bus or whatever, but if you wanna be TOTALLY AWESOME we can hotwire ourselves a bitchin' ride and get there in style, right? AW MAN I'M SO EXCITED."

[weaponof_choice]

Peter arrives, lugging four of those reusable shopping bags, two slung over each shoulder. He makes his way to a table, sets them on the grass, and begins unpacking their contents: a total of eight one-gallon containers of milk.

(...It seemed to make sense, when he read the journal entry. Follow along:

Peter Petrelli was raised to believe that no matter what the invitation says, you never ever arrive for a party without bringing something either for the host or for the party as a whole. You're an ungracious guest otherwise, and if you'd ever dealt with Angela Petrelli, you'd live in fear of being seen as ungracious

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys gapes for a minute as she watches Peter place the milk on the table. Then she runs up to him, once he's finished, pulls him into a hug and bursts into tears.

"Oh bless your heart," she says between small gasps. "I don't even know you, but thank you. Thank you."

She's a little overemotional. It might be exhaustion from baking for so long and not sleeping to set up. It might be from seeing people do nice things in Chicago. It just might be Gladys. The possibilities are endless.

[weaponof_choice]

"Hey, hey. You don't have to cry." Peter pats her back a bit awkwardly, doing his best to comfort her. "I haven't even spilled it yet, let's not start."

...Yeah, it's a lame joke, and he knows it. But he delivers it with an earnest tilt of his head, trying to catch Gladys' eye, and with no small amount of adorable--if entirely accidental--charm.

"And I'm Peter. Peter Petrelli. So now you do know me."

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys chuckles and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "Well, even if some of it does spill, we've got more than enough that it's not worth crying over." She smiles between the tears. "Thank you. Very much."

And then she giggles a little. "Well, Peter Peter Petrelli. I'm Gladys. And it's lovely to have you here. Have a cookie."

[crimeatthetime]

Adrian creeps into the outskirts, keeping a wary eye on Gladys from across the clearing. He has his guitar case in one hand, because he thought, you know, it's a party. Parties need music. Mostly he's looking for Rachel, because if Gladys gets to him before someone familiar does he might just run for his life.

...He's not scared of the hyperactive little old lady, really.

[gotbottle]

Rachel sees Adrian creep in, and she hesitates a moment before striding over to meet him. She's happy to see him, she really is, as always, it's just...

Well. Sometimes when you peek at unlocked threads above yours in other peoples' journal entries, you... learn things. And you don't necessarily know what to make of them.

Her hands are clasped in front of herself, almost nervously, as she walks up. "Hey, you."

[crimeatthetime]

"Mija." Yeah, he's obviously relieved. He doesn't have to face the mad woman and her reign of cookie terror alone! "I was hoping I hadn't gotten here before you."

Give him a minute, Rachel. He'll figure out something's wrong.

[gotbottle]

"No... no. I've, uh. Been here for a little while."

Rachel shifts her weight from one foot to the other, hands still firmly interlaced. Man, she wants to hug him, touch him, something... but she's no longer sure that's okay.

"I got here early? In case. Like. Gladys needed help with anything."

[gotbottle]

"Hi Gladys!"

Have a Rachel, in somewhat better spirits than she was at your last meeting, brandishing a very large bouquet of yellow roses.

"Happy birthday! Can I do anything to help with the party?"

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys smiles broadly. "Rachel!" she cries. She laughs--it's a vaguely unhinged laugh, but in a nicely unhinged way!--at the flowers. "Oh you DIDN'T!" she cries, placing the tray of cookies she's holding down onto a table to accept the flowers. "This is so kind of you!" She grabs Rachel and hugs her.

"And no, there is absolutely nothing you must do except get out there and have a good time," she says. "That is all I require of you."

[gotbottle]

"I so DID," Rachel laughs, returning the hug. "Happy birthday. It's the least I could do."

She steps back, grinning at Gladys. "Are you sure? 'Cause I totally don't mind."

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys giggles. "Well thank you," she says, taking a moment to admire her flowers. "It was very, very kind of you. And they're BEAUTIFUL. Where did you get these?"

She shakes her head vigorously. "No, really, I have pretty much everything under control. I'm not foreseeing any massive problems, so I think we're okay." She smiles.

[livemyowndeath]

Topher shows up for the party bearing a bouquet of zinneas and sweet peas for the birthday girl.

Eating is completely not an option for him, but he's been wanting to thank Gladys again for her help a few months ago. His first goal is to find her, but he'll stay and talk if he spots anyone else to chat with.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys blushes madly when she sees the nice young man she met all that time ago, with FLOWERS.

"Those better be for transplanting in the park," she says with a massive smile on her face. "Because you didn't have to bring them for any other reason." She pulls Topher into a hug, because she can, dammit. "Thank you for being here," she tells him. Really.

[livemyowndeath]

Topher hugs her back and does his best not to notice how tasty good she smells, and then he pushes the flowers into her hands. "I can't use a birthday as an excuse to give a fair lady flowers? Now that's just disappointing." He mock-pouts at her.

"I don't know how late I can stay though." He glances up towards the sun warily. "I've got a shift at work." Also true! But the sun thing could be an issue first.

[cookiesandhugs]

Gladys giggles. "Well, if you insist," she says. "Although really, you shouldn't have. You're too kind." She smiles broadly at him.

"Oh, it's no problem if you have to work! I understand, stay as long or as short as you need to. Take some cookies with you, I've got a plastic baggie laying around somewhere. You can take them to your coworkers." The smile widens, if that's at all possible.