shatterverse | Party? Party.

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Party? Party.

So, the Bunny has gotten things set up for a nice little alcohol fueled party. There's an Ipod attached to a boombox for music, a nice cleared spot for dancing, some hijacked foods for eating, and, of course, the booze.

The Booze is laid out in row after row of wonderfully full bottles. It starts with the cheap stuff, and gets gradually better. But the good stuff, the long aged, good brewed, never tapped stuff, is in the five barrels the Bunny is currently sitting on. He's got a glass of cheap in front of him, just to start things off right.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and assorted creatures! I give you, booze! But, I am not one to give things away for free. And money ain't worth shit no more. So, instead I ask of you, a simple thing. A joke, a toast, a tale or a song, any two of these, and you can drink all night. All four, and we crack open the casks. Lay on!"

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He helps her with that. Whoops, too far!

Snicker.

Angela squeaks. "Ack, Thomas! Ohmigod." She's blushing madly, hunched over her knees.

"...wardrobe malfunction?"

"Hahahah.... I can have you naked, by the end of this drink?" At least thats the same from universe to universe.

She laughs for real, not just a giggle.

"I didn't come prepared with Velcro or anything for the top of my dress or it would totally be convincing."

"And you don't have a peircing." He pauses, frowning, trying to remember. "No, you don't. I had one once."

"Nope. Could never get around putting something metal through there. Ouch."

She tilts her head at him. "Why don't you have one anymore?"

Wow, the seats look far up from down here.

"It was in my clit, and it just kinda dropped out one day, cause of my skin." Yup, the boy was drunk.

...Angela has taken biology class. There are just some things that boys don't have.

"Um. Huh?" Maybe she's just *really* drunk.

Edited 2008-06-04 15:48 (UTC)

He doesn't realize he misspoke. "Whut?"

"Yer a boy, you don't have a clit."

She looks a little befuddled, then. "'Less I missed something."

After all, she wasn't making a checklist.

"TIT!" Whoops. "I meant tit, yeah!" That's it, thats the ticket. Watch Thomas go all red.

She looks at him, half grinning, her eyes half closed. "We are so drunk." It's as good an excuse as any.

"You are so cute when you go red." She leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

"You're so cute all the time." Still blushing furiously.

She hugs him, because he looks sorta forlorn. She's starting to metabolize the alcohol. "Hmm...I think I need water or something." Depends on if she wants a monster hangover tomorrow...or just a little one.

"We could.. could... head down to a bed..." He's not thinking about water. Or hangovers.

"You have somewhere in mind?" she asks, brushing his hair with her fingers. "Don't want anyone walking in on us."

"Why no-" Oh. "Uh. uhm..." That's a no.

Angela rubs her eyes a little. "Hey. Are you all right? You look worried. Or something." She puts her arm around him.

"No clue." He yawns. "A little, uhm, toasty."

"Warm and sleepy, or just too hot? Well, okay, you're hot, but..." Maybe all that alcohol hasn't metabolized completely yet.

"But...yeah, finding a bed does seem like a good idea, really."

"Lead on, m'lady." Ha! He switched it around on her.

She gets up, a little unsteadily, and offers him a hand. "You, sir, are tricky." She grins. "I like that in a person."

Even if the only place she knows of where there are actual beds available are the barracks.

Edited 2008-06-05 16:11 (UTC)

"Only place he knows too. "Yer point?"

She grinned at him, leaned over and kissed him. "Come on. I'll show you where I sleep."

"Yey!" As he eagerly, if stumbly, follows after her.

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