party ♔ got a black card that let saks have it, these chanel bags is a bad habit

[bittersweeter]

[ ♪ feelin' myself -- nicki minaj & beyoncé ]

WHO || Astrid Mädchen & loads of people
WHAT || Astrid's 23rd Birthday Party
WHERE || Some empty bar in the castle.
WHEN || October 29, 2014; 8pm [backdated]
HOW || Actionspam

Lila had basically commandeered Astrid's birthday months ago, all but demanding that Astrid let her plan her party while... it was still Faye's birthday. By the time she is done decorating, it looks like Pintrest collided with Queen Regina and puked black and white Halloween drama all over the room. Glittery skulls, blood red candy apples, candles flickering in black lacquered candelabras. Is that raven real? Probably. Is that skeleton real?

Maybe. Y'all don't know what tricks this girl can do. Maybe Slenderman will show up.

The lights are dim and there is an entire table stacked with cupcakes and cookies and other assorted nibbles and hor d'oeuvres, shoved up against the bar where bottles of every kind of alcohol imaginable are just spread out willy nilly amongst mixers and juices. Bet your ass there is Fireball around. There's soda and punch for the teetotalers, but with far less variety than the liquor. There are even party favor bags for the end of the night stuffed with nips of peach schnapps, Jagermeister, and cranberry juice (the recipe for a red headed slut) and various jewels and baubles, plastic Starbucks cups, hella neon nail polish. And condoms. They are all jammed with condoms.

Invitations aren't sent so much as Lila and Astrid invite every single person they know and don't loathe. Costumes are a requirement, but presents are just highly encouraged. But it's Astrid's birthday, okay? Presents are a must.

And no one is allowed to dress like Jessica Rabbit on pain of... well, pain.

Comments

[beatupgrass]

And I'm sure there's somethin' about fosterin' good mentor-mentee relationships in there somewhere.

[once more, with more sarcasm, rocket.]

[pathology]

Um, obviously! That part's implied. [and then, abruptly as fuck] Do you like cats?

[beatupgrass]

[staaaares at her]

Why? D'you have one? [hahahaha.....]

[pathology]

No! Not ... yet?

[beatupgrass]

Y'know, there's a whole species out there that looks just like a Terran cat, 'cept they're evil, egg-layin' nasty bastards with freakin' pocket dimensions inside their cheeks. If you people knew how easy one could just infiltrate your homes just 'cause you thought it was a stupid cat, you'd never touch the things.

[pathology]

[she wrinkles her nose in preparation for disappointment.] So ... is that a no?

[beatupgrass]

I'm not gonna tell you not to get a cat, but if it lays eggs in your closet, don't bitch and moan at me when I have to shoot it.

[pathology]

You're so harshing my buzz right now, Rocket. Have you seen a displacer beast? That's what your spooky cats sound like.

[beatupgrass]

[lol his knowledge: arcane lore ranks are like nothing so he rolled a 13. It's probably not enough. Also NOT THE POINT.]

Flerken. They're called Flerken. Why d'you want a cat anyway?

[pathology]

Because they're cute? [that was ... pretty much the only reason. and mars talked her into it at some point.] I already had all these plans to make Youtube videos of you being friends with it. They'd go viral and I'd make a fortune.

[beatupgrass]

You're not puttin' me on YouTube.

[flat. deadpan.]

[pathology]

[ P O U T ] Why not?

[beatupgrass]

'Cause I ain't a circus performer for starters. [IS THAT NOT ENOUGH???]

[pathology]

It's not a circus, it's Youtube! What if I gave you a percentage?

[beatupgrass]

[......]

You make money from that?

[pathology]

Um, we could!

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket looks like he's weighing between his dignity and his love of easy money.]

How much money?

[pathology]

It depends on how many people we can get to watch it. And they'll only watch it if you're really cute. Ergo, it depends on how cute you are.

[beatupgrass]

I don't know if I got cute in me.

[He's, you know, sort of the antithesis of cute once he starts talking.]

[pathology]

Well, here's a tip — don't open your foul little mouth.

[beatupgrass]

[LOOK HE'S PRACTICING RIGHT NOW.

Unfortunately, the death glower isn't adorable either.]

[pathology]

And don't make that face! You look rabid.

[beatupgrass]

[SIGHS.] You're killin' me here, Mädchen.

[pathology]

No, I'm teaching you stage presence! Acting! Oh my god, I've got it! You know the raccoons in the woods? Go ... sit out there and watch one. And then, take watever you learned, and emulate it.

[beatupgrass]

[ahahahaa.

completely serious:]

If I ever see another raccoon in the wild again, I'm gonna off myself.