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

[injectablefame]

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!)

Comments

[injectablefame]

"I'll be whatever color you want me ta be." With a laugh, he turns his face into Ghoul's hair and takes a not-very-subtle sniff. Ghoul always smells right these days, like friendship and pack and a little like he spends too much time in Party's loft with his coffee and cigarettes and paint.

"Y'smell like roses an' cake an' fancy whisky."

[ghoulaid]

How far gone is Party? Considering Ghoul's been compared to cake, he'd say pretty far gone.

Aside from the incredibly high level of ridiculousness everything seems to be fine, but Ghoul's struggling slightly. With Party nosing against his hair, Ghoul's face is left awkwardly smushed in to his neck and shoulder. He tolerates it for as long as he can before the need for fresh(ish) air becomes too great. He pulls his head back with a stupid grin and an, "Aw." Roses and cake and fancy whisky are all nice things. What a sweet thing to say. "You smell like the inside of a gym bag."

And that is not how returning compliments works...

"D'you need to sit down? When's the last time y'drank water?" At least Ghoul takes care of his foul gym bags.