Lancelot du Lac (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
knightscode) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
undergrounds2016-05-05 05:56 pm
knightscode) wrote in undergrounds2016-05-05 05:56 pm
Entry tags:
Semi-open: May 05
Who: Lancelot and friends!
What: It's a birthday party! With both regular people and supernatural types. What could go wrong?
When: May 05
Where: Lancelot's flat & garden, Richmond!
Warnings: Gratuitous doggy! Probably a punch up later. Possibly some drunk kissing.
Lancelot's garden is not exactly an acre-large tented paradise.
He's not made of money.
It's big enough to just about fit the people invited across the patio and grass, with Lily variously herding them and rolling around, and he's flitting between them and the kitchen and living room and generally doing his best to butterfly around all of them making sure they're happy. The garden is relatively tidy, as tidy and well kept as a garden that suffers an enthusiastic dog can be. The hedges are neatly trimmed, the tree in one corner healthy and big enough to throw a little shade, and the one flowerbed border seems to mostly have some roses that are yet to fully bloom.
For those who he's only known since the incident last year he's given them a warning: not everyone who will be there is aware of the supernatural side of things, so try not to blurt it to people you don't know.
Despite it being his own birthday Lancelot is, of course, playing host. There's a table set up outside with finger food, salads, drinks and all sorts -- and food strategically inside for those who can't be out in the sun too. He appears to still be checking on more in the oven every so often too, but Lancelot does like to cook -- and he seems quite focused on making sure everyone has something they could eat.
Some of the drinks are alcoholic. The punch isn't that strong, but he has a few other drinks along the side for people who want them and some bottles of beer in an ice bucket. If someone decides to do a little mixing of course then it might wind up stronger.
His sound system is playing the soothing strains of Dire Straits through the place and all in all, for now at least things are going smoothly. So long as nobody says the wrong thing to the wrong person, it will probably be a nice evening. With the mixture of factions present alongside those who have no idea what a faction is, of course... that may be difficult.
[ OOC: Feel free to mingle away on the post with others here! ]
What: It's a birthday party! With both regular people and supernatural types. What could go wrong?
When: May 05
Where: Lancelot's flat & garden, Richmond!
Warnings: Gratuitous doggy! Probably a punch up later. Possibly some drunk kissing.
Lancelot's garden is not exactly an acre-large tented paradise.
He's not made of money.
It's big enough to just about fit the people invited across the patio and grass, with Lily variously herding them and rolling around, and he's flitting between them and the kitchen and living room and generally doing his best to butterfly around all of them making sure they're happy. The garden is relatively tidy, as tidy and well kept as a garden that suffers an enthusiastic dog can be. The hedges are neatly trimmed, the tree in one corner healthy and big enough to throw a little shade, and the one flowerbed border seems to mostly have some roses that are yet to fully bloom.
For those who he's only known since the incident last year he's given them a warning: not everyone who will be there is aware of the supernatural side of things, so try not to blurt it to people you don't know.
Despite it being his own birthday Lancelot is, of course, playing host. There's a table set up outside with finger food, salads, drinks and all sorts -- and food strategically inside for those who can't be out in the sun too. He appears to still be checking on more in the oven every so often too, but Lancelot does like to cook -- and he seems quite focused on making sure everyone has something they could eat.
Some of the drinks are alcoholic. The punch isn't that strong, but he has a few other drinks along the side for people who want them and some bottles of beer in an ice bucket. If someone decides to do a little mixing of course then it might wind up stronger.
His sound system is playing the soothing strains of Dire Straits through the place and all in all, for now at least things are going smoothly. So long as nobody says the wrong thing to the wrong person, it will probably be a nice evening. With the mixture of factions present alongside those who have no idea what a faction is, of course... that may be difficult.
[ OOC: Feel free to mingle away on the post with others here! ]
no subject
He doesn't want Lancelot to feel awkward around him. Doesn't want him to feel like he needs to hold back, doesn't want him to believe that there are things he cannot say or do around him. He just... There will always be a part of him that wants more. That's all.
no subject
She leans in a little toward him and prods his chest, an almost friendly gesture and certainly more familiar than she has any right to be, "this--" Kathryn gestures emphatically up and down at Faolan, "is toxic!"
no subject
He turns away from her and doesn't respond. What else is there to say? That he's scared he will lose the one person most dear to him because he made the mistake of falling for him? Certainly not to her at any rate.
no subject
"You're on a self-destruct course, and that's if you don't tank your friendship by harbouring all these feelings and trying to ward away anyone he sleeps with first." Because don't think she hasn't noticed those looks, Faolan. "He's an understanding guy."
So just talk about your dumb feelings, holy shit. Mortals.
no subject
"Fuck off," Faolan growls, trying not to let on the fact that her words had cut sharp and deep. That she's casually pouring salt into the open wound of fears that Faolan has harbored for longer than he'd care to admit. Almost as long as he'd had feelings for the other man in the first place, really. "You don't even know me."
no subject
It's not a great guy, Faolan.
no subject
"You don't know me," Faolan repeats, all but spitting the words out at her before turning on his heel to stalk off. God help the next person who should speak to him...