{ party } you came in scared, but you're leaving bold

[bittersweeter]

[ best day of my life -- american authors ]

WHO || All the bitches, tbh. [open]
WHAT || Faye's 18th Birthday, yay!
WHERE || Lost Society Bar, London, England
WHEN || March 28th, 7pm - onwards [forward-dated]
HOW || Actionspam

Formerly a two story barn, the bar Lila rented for Faye's birthday has an Art Deco theme that continues through the building, with each space having been given a contemporary twist. The lavish interiors create a feeling of forgotten decadence. Each room has its own distinct and unique ambience, all complementing one another yet reflecting different moods, depending on the feeling of the moment, flowing through to the secluded garden.

The man at the door has been notified to waive the cover charge for anyone that comes bearing a gift, but if you don't come bearing gifts... don't expect Lila to feel pity for you. You're paying that cover charge yourself, en-fucking-joy, you soulless, non-gifting-bearing bastard. (This was mentioned in the invites she sent out to all the ladies in the castle. It's possible that it's literally all the ladies in the castle as Lila doesn't care whether they're friends with Faye or not. No boys got invites unless they were verbal. The dress code of "fancy but down to fuck" was also on the invitations...)

Tucked in the back is a partitioned off banquet for the VIP party and once inside the ropes, you get a stamp on your hand so the drinks are free for the rest of the night -- and the drink of the night is a Bailey's Comet. Because it's on fire. Drink, enjoy, be merry. Do things. Save room for the cake.

And if anyone is worried about a bunch of drunk knights trying to drive home, Lila rented a handful of rooms at a nearby hotel because when she plans shit, she plans it well.

Anything for her best friend.

Comments

[sorceresslite]

Alex. Cute name. So, shots! What's the bet gonna be, whoever dies of alcohol poisoning first loses and owes the other... five hundred quid? [ /throws wynn's money around. ] That's dollars for you Americans.

[ambitionist]

It's a pleasure. [and then, to ella:] That's between you two.

[succubestie]

You've got yourself a bet.

[Throwing Wynn's money errywhere. It's only like...one pair of leather boots and pants she wont' be able to replace the next time she rips holes in them.]

What's your poison?

[sorceresslite]

Whiskey. [ #irish. #stereotype. #predictable. ] Or anything really.

[succubestie]

Whiskey it is.

[Time to get the bartender, because they're going to need a whole bottle I think.]