The island had done it again. Whether it was pure chance or benevolence none of them would ever know, but somehow, someway, the place had seen fit to give them all booze again
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Wearing a mask provided by the clothes box, and one too many stands of beads, Logan made his way through the party with a drink in his hand and a smirk on his lips.
He couldn't tell you what it was that he loved so much about Mardi Gras, other than the fact that it made for an excellent excuse to get a little drunk and eat more than he should. Of course, there was more to it than that. The masks and the beads, the girls in bright colours and an excuse to dress just a little nicer than usual himself. Much nicer, actually. Along with his plain black dress pants and a white button down shirt, he had on a deep red velvet coat, something he usually wouldn't have been caught dead in.
There was music coming from the Karaoke machine, and he sidestepped a smooching couple as he made his way back over to the bar for a top up and some snacks. He was just about to order when he felt someone lightly bump into him, and he glanced back curiously to see if it was anyone he knew.
Benny had no idea how many drinks she'd had. But it clearly wasn't enough because she was both upright and conscious. Still, it was early and the bar wasn't about to run dry.
Heading back from her latest top up, she bumped right into Logan, almost spilling her drink in the process. She wasn't used to having to constantly hold things with her left hand. "Hey, Logan! So, how does this work? Am I supposed to offer you one of these necklaces in exchange for selective nudity or somesuch?"
"That depends, I'm kind of hoping I'll leave this party with my pants on at least, but I guess everything else is fair game," Logan replied, offering a smile as he pulled his mask down and let it dangle around his neck along with the beads he was wearing.
"Really though, I think it's something more along the lines of you flashing me in order to receive a few cheep beads," he smirked. "I mean, that has to be how it works, right? I saw it in this tasteful documentary called Girls Gone Wild."
She snorted a laugh in response, though she didn't quite get the reference. Probably some kind of tacky twentieth century one-handed entertainment. "Oh, I see. So this is really all about the tits."
Eyebrows knitted in way more concentration than the issue deserved, she finally said, "That's a bit disappointing, actually. I mean tits are fabulous, don't get me wrong. But it seems a bit one sided."
Decked out in what had to be the most electric suit ever, Vince made his way slowly through the party, his silver coat and trousers catching the light as he moved. Even with the over sized zebra print hat and fish eye sunglasses, it was obvious who was underneath the get up though, and no one who knew him would be surprised by his choice of kit.
Grinning, Vince draped some large silver beads around the neck of the nearest party goer and grinned.
"Yeah, Happy New Year!" he greeted, oblivious to the fact that he was celebrating the wrong holiday.
"Pancake Day, love," Mrs. Slocombe corrected, leaning back in her chair to take in his outfit. Her own wasn't nearly so sparkley, though she seemed to be making up for the fact with an exorbitant amount of cleavage.
Mrs. Slocombe pushed her untouched second plate towards him. "Could do with a bit of rum sauce," she suggested, brightening in the next moment when she spied some at the edge of the table. She grabbed that and a bottle of real rum as well, keeping the last for herself. "Like Christmas all over again," she giggled.
Cable would be the last to call himself a party person but he was, undeniably, a beer person. And, while he was hardly one to begrudge people a little celebration, he was mostly at the party for that one reason.
He sat down with his back to a wall and a can of beer in his hand and when someone met his eyes he raised it to them in a silent toast.
Good food and plentiful beer had been rare enough during his life for him to be thankful when they arrived.
Dressed in little black dress and a string of pearl beads, Monet wasn't wearing a mask. There was little need for an actual mask when she herself already protected herself from the world around her. Monet wandered the party looking subtly for a tall blonde. She intended on having a good time tonight even if that meant being sociable, polite and friendly with the masses.
"Watch where you're going," Monet said moving out of the way as someone almost walked into her. Well sociable, polite and friendly for her.
"I was going towards you, as a matter of fact," Bill informed her in French with a charming smile. He'd put on a mask, but it was sitting atop his forehead, and the rest of him was casually dressed in a deep emerald green shirt and dark jeans.
"Were you now?" Monet asked, ignoring his charming smile as she glanced over his outfit with a critical eye. He passed with somewhat flying colours, not that she'd actually tell him that. Monet looked up at him before smiling at him. Which for her was a rather rare occasion. "Well, that's a different story all together. And what was it that you wanted from me?"
He continued to smile charmingly, unphased that it was being ignored. "How about a kiss?" he asked, and pulled at a strand of the beads around his neck. "For one of these, of course."
Oh, there were times when the island simply enchanted Cole. Two ice cubes clinked perfectly in his glass, the taste of scotch still on his lips as he made his way through the crowd in the Compound. There were decorations everywhere, and he stopped and picked a flower from a vase--a garish, magenta bloom that he didn't recognize--and pinned it to his lapel, then as an afterthought took another
( ... )
Guy was sitting on the couch in the manner that best suited him - drinking expensive scotch smoking a proper cigarette, and giving opinions on every first thing that came into his mind. When he was in these situations he was unstoppable, in the sense that there was always a filled drink in his hands, always a burning cigarette in his mouth and always an opinion being voiced.
Rare it was to see, but he stopped talking and arched an eyebrow. A song. A song dedication no less. To him. In public. By a silly middle-aged man. All reasons to laugh at him. But Guy didn't.
((If you like to comment on this rare occurance to this, Cole doesn't mind his tag being used as gathering-within-gathering. Though he reserves the right to butt in. :D))
Willie was still laughing. He looked a great deal happier than he had been in a while. He was in his uniform, the one he had lived and died in, he had a pint in his hand and Mr Burgess was being sung a love song. There was nothing not to enjoy about the situation.
"He's singing to you, Mr Burgess," Willie pointed out obviously, still laughing, almost giggling.
Willie did look a lot better, was laughing, even, but to Guy it would have been a lot more funny if the subject of his girlish giggling would be someone else. Of course, that would only have happened if the dedication hadn't been pronounced so loudly.
"Don't laugh, it isn't polite," he replied with a smile, repeating the words Willie had used so often to him.
Comments 1426
He couldn't tell you what it was that he loved so much about Mardi Gras, other than the fact that it made for an excellent excuse to get a little drunk and eat more than he should. Of course, there was more to it than that. The masks and the beads, the girls in bright colours and an excuse to dress just a little nicer than usual himself. Much nicer, actually. Along with his plain black dress pants and a white button down shirt, he had on a deep red velvet coat, something he usually wouldn't have been caught dead in.
There was music coming from the Karaoke machine, and he sidestepped a smooching couple as he made his way back over to the bar for a top up and some snacks. He was just about to order when he felt someone lightly bump into him, and he glanced back curiously to see if it was anyone he knew.
Reply
Heading back from her latest top up, she bumped right into Logan, almost spilling her drink in the process. She wasn't used to having to constantly hold things with her left hand. "Hey, Logan! So, how does this work? Am I supposed to offer you one of these necklaces in exchange for selective nudity or somesuch?"
Reply
"Really though, I think it's something more along the lines of you flashing me in order to receive a few cheep beads," he smirked. "I mean, that has to be how it works, right? I saw it in this tasteful documentary called Girls Gone Wild."
Reply
Eyebrows knitted in way more concentration than the issue deserved, she finally said, "That's a bit disappointing, actually. I mean tits are fabulous, don't get me wrong. But it seems a bit one sided."
Reply
Grinning, Vince draped some large silver beads around the neck of the nearest party goer and grinned.
"Yeah, Happy New Year!" he greeted, oblivious to the fact that he was celebrating the wrong holiday.
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He sat down with his back to a wall and a can of beer in his hand and when someone met his eyes he raised it to them in a silent toast.
Good food and plentiful beer had been rare enough during his life for him to be thankful when they arrived.
Reply
"Watch where you're going," Monet said moving out of the way as someone almost walked into her. Well sociable, polite and friendly for her.
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Rare it was to see, but he stopped talking and arched an eyebrow. A song. A song dedication no less. To him. In public. By a silly middle-aged man. All reasons to laugh at him. But Guy didn't.
((If you like to comment on this rare occurance to this, Cole doesn't mind his tag being used as gathering-within-gathering. Though he reserves the right to butt in. :D))
Reply
"He's singing to you, Mr Burgess," Willie pointed out obviously, still laughing, almost giggling.
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"Don't laugh, it isn't polite," he replied with a smile, repeating the words Willie had used so often to him.
Reply
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