undergrounds | Party's Party post for the Party! [OPEN]

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Party's Party post for the Party! [OPEN]

In the last week, Party's does his job to set up a truly momentous party thrown by an anonymous organizer. To some he's admitted that he knows the organizer, to others he's only said that he'd heard of the party second or third hand, but those that know him best could probably tell whose handiwork is behind this. The fliers are artless and plain and they're everywhere in the days leading up to it, or at least everywhere Party can reasonably get them without getting police attention that would shut it down before it even starts.

It starts small and slow, a few high kids playing music on their cell phones and dancing, but it grows from there, a few DJs with small and portable setups and broken bottles in the street. Central to the whole affair is the Magical Innovation Centre, but it spreads out from there, disturbing the nearby neighborhood and hiding seedy activities with only minimal effort. At some point, there's even a series of wolf howls that seem to echo through the streets.

It's only a few hours from its small beginnings before it's broken up by the cops, but with no ringleader known, only interspersed random arrests are made. There just aren't enough police to get everyone.

(OOC: Party post! Post top levels, tag around and have fun!)

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It's not the first party she's been too since she arrive in London-making friends with other teenagers had it's advantages-but it's certainly the biggest and most rowdy. It's also the most interesting. Most of the parties she'd went to had been decidedly human. The mingling made it a perfect reason to be out so late on a school night.

Well, that and the free booze.

Early in the festivities, Girl sticks to the sidelines. A cup in hand of something that makes her wince with every sip, she keeps her eye on the crowd and keeps to herself. But it doesn't take her long to get over any initial nervousness and out there with the other dancers. She grabs the nearest willing partner, dragging them into a dance that's more laughter and waving limbs than the grinding of the crowd. There's apologies handed out for her throw elbows in between her shouting along to the songs and a few drinks plied off on those unfortunate enough to be in her bruising range. She manages to scatter at the first sign of the party being busted, having nothing more serious than a hangover to remember the night, but while things are raging she looks like she's having a blast.

You know what she needs with all that fun? A heart attack.

At some point in the night, a menacing voice can be heard directly behind her. "I need to see your ID, kid." It's just Ghoul, of course, but he's hoping that if he sounds loud and angry enough, she won't be able to peg his voice right off the bat.

She jumps, sloshing her drink down her arm and onto her shoes. For a moment, Ghoul gets his wish. Girl doesn't recognize the voice, too busy being momentarily panicked. Maybe hitting the party scene with Dodger had relaxed her too much, made her forget about consequences, and now that she's ventured off without him...

"It's not what ya think-" Girl turns on her heel, eyes guilty and ready to spout off nonsense about just holding the drink for a friend. When her gaze locks with the person behind her, the worried look falls to a scowl.

"You ass." Threat undetected she starts trying to dry off with the hem of her shirt. She glares up at him, looking more a particularly grumpy toddler than truly annoyed. "I though you were a cop."

This is the best.

He looks pretty proud of himself (when he stops giggling like the drunk motherfucker he is), reaching out to tug the drink out of her hands- just to hold, temporarily. However long it takes for her to mop up after herself, because there no use in her doing that if she runs the risk of spilling even more in the process. What a good friend he is. "How d'you know I ain't a cop? You don't know what I do for work."

Ugh. Look at him being smug about it. Girl's scowl worsens, especially when she thinks he's taking her drink. She rubs off her arm with her shirt, eyeing her cup. "Gimme that." She's still damp but she's got priorities in line.

"I feel pretty good 'bout sayin' you ain't." Girl says dryly, gesturing around them. "Pretty sure cops don't let this kind of stuff happen. 'sides, if you were, it'd be kinda mean to bust one of your own. Doesn't really promote pack unity or whatever."

"I'm off the clock," he snaps back, lifting her cup a few inches higher as if that'll magically prevent her from taking it. Maybe it would be more effective if he was about a foot taller. "What's even in here? It don't smell like soda."

"If you're not workin' then you don't have to take things from me." Her voice is mostly a whine now, rising up on tiptoes for the drink. He could be a cop for all she knows but she does feel confident he's not going to pick her out of everything illegal happening to get into trouble. She doesn't think he's the type to be that petty. Probably.

All her scrambling for the drink only ends with her kind of clinging to his sleeve, tugging at his arm. "There's soda in it!" She thinks so, at least. "Ya know, and other stuff."

He tries to keep it together, he really does. Sadly, the whining and the childish pawing is too much. A brief string of intoxicated-sounding giggles escapes his mouth, but he quickly shuts that shit down and goes kind of stone-faced again. "Get offa me, god damn-"

Something she's done must have worked though, because he's slowly bringing the cup back down. "Other stuff?" At last, he holds it out to her. "What other stuff? All the other stuff? 'Cause it smells like somethin' you'd find in a gutter after three days."

"Not 'til I get it!" She'd find the giggling hilarious if she weren't so focused at the moment. She does grin, but it's one of victory when the cup starts to come back down.

"Yeah. Stuff. Just a mix of a few things everyone else had. Lil' this, lil' that." She rolls her eyes, a smile still in place to keep it in good nature. A little cheer escapes from under her breath when he hands it back, grabbing it greedily. "Why? Want some? Pretty sure there's plenty floatin' 'round here."

Does he want some? He snorts. He clawed his way out of the realm of alcohol ignorance long ago, there's no way he's backsliding to his teenage years of carelessly suiciding a little bit of everything in to one cup. Not if he can help it.

"I can actually taste things, so no, I don't want none'a that." This is the same guy who sometimes eats peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, so his opinions on taste amount to literally nothing.

Girl still has a years to realize how pitiful it is. Right now forcing herself to choke down whatever vile concoction other kids have made was the height of fitting in. She looks unimpressed with his reaction, chalking it up to another one of his 'older person' things.

"It's not 'bout the taste. No one drinks it 'cause they like it." Duh. She takes a sip to demonstrate her point, making a face as she swallows. She probably should have erred on the side of more soda but she's not going to tell him that now. "It's a party. Sure someone can find somethin' for you if you're too good for this."

Ghoul visibly cringes and sucks in a pained-sounding breath when he sees her actually consume hell's water.

This is a crime against humanity that he can't let continue. "No. I can't fuckin'- just, c'mere." He swoops down and takes hold of her wrist, beginning to gently pull her towards what is apparently The Drink Area. "The only people who say they don't drink for taste are the ones who don't know what the hell they're doin'." Or raging alcoholics, but she seems to be a little young... "There ain't no excuse for sufferin' like that."

Is he about to mix a drink for a kid?

Fucking maybe.

She'd look more victorious about forcing a smug look off his face if she weren't too busy trying not to gag. Showing someone up comes with a heavy price.

Girl lets him lead her easy enough; her other hand still clutches her cup to her chest suspiciously but as long as he's not reaching for it or forcing her out, she's content enough. She does frown when they come to a stop, slow on the uptake after nursing her sad excuse for a drink so long. "I know what I'm doin'. Not the first party I've been too." More like third or fourth. "And that's what you do at part-wait. What are ya doin'?"

Her expression turns gleeful. "Think you can make somethin' better?"

"I know I can!" He's not, like, a professional drink mixer and the spread they've got is a far cry from anything sophisticated, but he knows how to whip together a few easy things. Not like it'd be hard to beat that shit she's currently got, anyway. Drinking straight from any single bottle would be an improvement.

Ghoul's face scrunches up in concentration as he eyes the remaining selection. He ends up digging out only three ingredients: a clean cup, an unopened can of cold-enough fruity soda, and a mostly empty bottle of clear liquor, all of which he sets down in a line. It doesn't look very impressive...

"I'll make you somethin' that doesn't taste like the inside of a car battery, but it's gotta be your last one." Lecturing her about how she shouldn't have it in the first place would be a waste of breath, because he knows that she already knows it. He also knows that she'll likely continue to do it anyway. The least he can do is set her straight with something not-deadly.

"It didn't taste like a battery," Girl mutters, though she's not sure why she's arguing when he's trying to give her something better. The last thing she wants is for an argument where he threatens to cut her off completely. She sighs, sitting down her cup and then crossing her arms.

"Fine. Promise I'm not gonna come back for more. I actually do wanna remember tonight." She mostly means it. She doesn't plan on going back on her word, but she's sure there's something to be said about best laid plans. Girl eyes the ingredients, smiling slightly. It's not impressive to him maybe, but if it's something she's not supposed to have then it's impressive enough to a teenager. "Thanks."

Ghoul gives her a dry look. Maybe he hasn't had any in his mouth, but he can still confidently say that it tastes like a battery. That someone peed on.

He looks pleased with her surrender and her promise, though, so a moment later her nods. "Gotta be able to run straight, y'know? Cops are gonna bust this place up at any time and if you get tossed in the pound, I'm leavin' you there." Is he serious? She'll find out if she gets picked up.

Since they've come to an agreement he sets about fixing up her last drink. It's as basic as an already-easy paloma can possibly get, containing just soda and liquor. It'll still taste pretty good, though. He even makes sure to scale the tequila back to a slightly more kid-friendly ratio, so he feels absolutely 0 amounts of guilt when he finally hands it over to her. Ta-da.

"I'm not gonna get caught," Girl says with all the foolish confidence of youth. "I wouldn't ask ya to get me out anyway. Do they do the one phone call in this country? 'Cause I got someone to call to bail me out. You don't gotta worry 'bout bein' an emergency contact."

She thinks that sounds reassuring, like it's absolving him of further responsibility. Or that it makes her sound responsible, having a viable back up plan. Even if that plan was just to call in a sob story to her uncle.

Girl takes the cup with a grin, raising it in a mock cheers before taking a healthy drink. She pauses a moment to pretend to savor it, humming and tilting her free hand back and forth. "It doesn't taste like a battery, I'll give ya that." She takes a longer drink. "Pretty nice, actually."

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