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

[watchmaker]

I might have. Probably not. I don't know, I think my mom did.

[bittersweeter]

My dad did, for appearances only, I think. We paid for a lot of funerals, I guess he wanted to keep the priests in his pocket. That would make sense.

[watchmaker]

Yeah. Do you — [KNOCK KNOCK ROOM SERVICE. sylar's taking care of it, yo. he wheels that little cart (yeah he got him to give him the fucking cart) and presents lila with burgers and fries. mmm mmm bitch.)]

[bittersweeter]

[ ooh, yay! she bounces to sitting upright, wrapping the sheet around herself like a messy toga before she leans over to grab a plate and settle it in her lap. and then om nom nom, devouring. which brings up the question: ] What do you do with them? The brains, I mean. [ aka do you eat them? ]

[watchmaker]

I examine them until I find what I need, and throw them out when I'm done. [he starts to eat, but then he's like WAIT.] Did you think I ate them?

[bittersweeter]

Well the guy we thought was the Scourge of Chicago did so... [ /kanyeshrug. her nose wrinkles remembering the octopus creep just casually eating a brain all alone with cutlery. god, that was weird as hell. ] It's a logical conclusion.

[watchmaker]

[he also wrinkles his nose — like he even has delicate sensibilities.] That's disgusting. [but not disgusting enough to get him to stop eating right now.]

[bittersweeter]

Right? I mean he was pretty gross, too. [ she shudders in a thoroughly grossed out way. ] Kind of glad you don't... do that. I mean, you're kind of perfect, I would hate for that to be your big flaw.

[ because i guess being a serial killer isn't. :| ]

[watchmaker]

Do I have a big flaw, then? I'm dying to know.

[bittersweeter]

It's a situational big flaw.

[watchmaker]

The distance?

[bittersweeter]

Yup. [ which she doesn't mind much right now, sitting in bed eating cheeseburgers and watching stick it because it was either that or a cinderella story. but when he left she would mind. ]

[watchmaker]

It doesn't have to be forever. [he shrugs while shoveling more food in his mouth. he's not sure about the logistics of it — where would they go??? but that is an argument for another day.]

[bittersweeter]

[ literally an argument. ] But until after you figure out the prophecy?

[watchmaker]

[y e p.] Yeah. Wouldn't you want to stick around if there was some supposed prophecy about you?

[bittersweeter]

No. No one tells me what to do, not even fate.

[watchmaker]

[he doesn't know what he was expecting. /picture of a bag of dead dove] Well, I have a compulsion to know everything. Especially anything directly concerning me. There's another flaw for you.

[bittersweeter]

[ she shrugs, not really apologetic. ] I still like you. I just don't like distance.

[watchmaker]

Me either, but. It's not the worst thing.

[bittersweeter]

What's worse than not being with you?

[watchmaker]

Not being with me forever? No phonecalls or texts?

[bittersweeter]

[ her mouth curves into a pout. logic. grr. ] Yeah, I just miss you.

[watchmaker]

[hey, hey, c'mere. he pulls her in tight by the shoulder.] Me too.

[bittersweeter]

[ butterfly nets - bishop allen

she leans against him pitifully. she's not supposed to like people, because people aren't worth it. but he had to be cool and funny and not treat her like she's a doll or a prize or a mistake and she can't help liking that. and him.

god damn it. ] Good thing you followed me out of the bar, isn't it?

[watchmaker]

Mhm. It was the way you talked. You implied you had experience in sensational crimes. I wanted to know more. You being beautiful didn't hurt, either.