party! } welcome to the new age

[bittersweeter]

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

WHO || Everyone ever aka whomever is in the castle
WHAT || Lila is throwing a party
WHERE || Large parlor room
WHEN || Tuesday, July 23, 2013; 9pm onwards
HOW || Actionspam, threadjack away.

This isn't exactly a squiring after party. Lila's never been to a knighting (and the odds are not in her favor) but she doubts this party is much like it either. The invitation comes in the form of a mass text message sent the day before -- she doesn't care who gets it, its not as if Wynn is going to come to her party. A date, a time, a location, and the rules. She doesn't give a reason.

The rules are simple: dress up classy, don't bring a gift, and wear a mask. It's a masquerade, after all, a mask is a prerequisite. Lila is even so kind as to provide them, a porcelain bowl perched on a chair by the door holds an array; running the gamut from Phantom of the Opera white to classic Venetian blue and gold to Dia de los Muertos red and black. Anyone without a mask is subject to Lila's wrath.

The room is entirely lit by tea lights floating in small glass bowls, leaving long shadows across the walls, and strings of red fairy lights draped across doorways and windows. Music is playing somewhere, loud and dark, forcing you to press up against the person you're talking to. A table shoved against the wall is covered with bottles of fancy champagne, wine, expensive vodka and, the odd man out, pink lemonade. She and Faye might have gone a tad overboard with the alcohol. Blue plastic cups sit in a tottering pile off to the side, a jumble of colorful paper umbrellas dotting the free space on the desk. Another table holds a towering monstrosity of nibbles -- chocolates and tiny cream puffs, miniature Madeline cookies and delicate eclairs. Nothing to fill up on if you're worried about drinking on an empty stomach. Not her problem, she is obviously catering to the younger crowd here. Namely herself.

Lila is around, face half hidden by a simple lacy black mask. Her one blue eye and one green eye would be a dead giveaway if her scar didn't already make it perfectly clear who is behind the mask. She's not playing hostess, she had enough of that back home being Daddy's little darling. This is the first birthday party she has had in almost four years, but even determined to make the most of her experience, she remains at the fringes, drink in hand. The combination of pink lemonade and vodka makes her nostalgic.

Don't worry though, she has her gloves on.

For now.

Comments

[bittersweeter]

[ she loves this getting whatever she wants thing. it's so nice. ] You're still wearing the watch. [ ~the watch. ]

[watchmaker]

Yeah, I like the watch. I think it suits me. Don't you? [and it reminds him of something .... something he can't remember. however that works?????]

[bittersweeter]

I love it! [ she has great taste. ]

[watchmaker]

I should have gotten you a matching one for your birthday. Alas, now it's too late.

[bittersweeter]

I'll have other birthdays. Christmas. Hanukkah. Tuesdays. [ kanyeshrug ]

[watchmaker]

What's the next big holiday, Labor Day? Maybe then.

[bittersweeter]

International Left-Handers Day is August 13th. [ int 17, she would fucking know. ]

[watchmaker]

Is it really? I'm left-handed, you'd think I would know.

[bittersweeter]

So am I! [ which is how... she knows... ] I am both fun and educational.

[watchmaker]

You are. [c'mere for a kiss on the forehead.] I'm actually ambidextrous, but I prefer my left.

[bittersweeter]

[ omigosh kissus. ]

I'm just a lefty. [ she is useless with writing and stuff with her right hand. ] I can shoot right handed, though, which I guess can be handy. Oh!

[ IDEA. ]

[watchmaker]

What? [he senses her idea, ok. (wis 17) what is it, tho????? NOBODY KNOWS. here's hoping it's not ... shooting him ... ]

[bittersweeter]

Have you ever signed a check? People with memory problems, like amnesia or whatever, they're so used to doing certain actions instinctively they can do it even when they don't remember how. [ knowledge: behavioral sciences 24 and ten years of knowing a memory worker, i guess. ] You know, in case you ever wanted to give that a try.

[watchmaker]

[he takes a moment to consider that because no, he hasn't since coming here.] That's actually ... a good idea. You know, so long as I had a legible signature.

[bittersweeter]

God, I hope you weren't a doctor.

[watchmaker]

What if I was? I'm awfully smart.

[bittersweeter]

I've noticed. Why do you think I like you?

[watchmaker]

I'm good-looking? I flipped a truck for you?

[bittersweeter]

Well yeah. But even if you didn't flip a truck for me. I like your brain.

[ yep. ]

[watchmaker]

[the elevator pings and the doors open. tada, fourth floor, bitch.] Yours isn't so bad, either. And I know a thing or two about brains.

[bittersweeter]

Oh yeah? 412, come on. [ nav 6, oh honey you are going in the wrong direction. wanna take back that compliment, boo? ]

[watchmaker]

[it's ok, he's got this. and he gives her a pass bc she's been drinking, okay.] There are only bigger numbers down this way, though. [so he turns her around and starts heading in the right direction. (nav 12)] Let's see ... even numbers are on the right, so ...

[bittersweeter]

[ ugh, she makes a face, eyes flickering back and forth. ] So it's... oh, right there. [ doobie doobie doo. key card in. key card out. no little green light. key card in, key card out, no little green -- she makes a noise of annoyance. (crit fail.) she wordlessly hands the card back. ]

[watchmaker]

Let me try. [he takes the key card and tries swiping it slowly and deliberately. what do you even roll for this? dex? w/e, it's 17. he wins. the door opens.] Those things can be pretty tricky.

[bittersweeter]

[ incomprehensible noise of annoyance as she flounces in the suite and stops because wow. this is fancier than she expected. ]

Oh, wow, happy birthday to me.