not_a_goddamn_princess | MASQUERADE PARTY, 33 Apocalypse Ave, Friday Evening

Party night. The best of nights. An ornate sign on 33 Apocalypse’s door invited all to knock and make themselves known.

The space inside was bigger than it looked from the outside, stretched and displaced by magic. The wallpaper was green and textured, hinting at the English countryside. On one side of the room sat a significant bar offering food and drinks, while the other gave ample space to sit. A large Jenga tower held prominence in a corner.

It was easy to miss it, though, in favor of the little streams of water that ran across furniture and floor. Tiny glass gondolas, animated by magic, made their way back and forth across each stream. The gondolas were real, though the water itself was an illusion. It called attention to the ceiling, doubly enchanted: both to draw all cigarette smoke to itself so it wouldn’t blow in anyone’s face, but also to mimic the starry sky above Venice.

You could watch the stars twinkle, or see the occasional cloud go by. Magical fireflies added to the illusion, dancing through the air like tiny lights. If you listened closely, you could hear the sea rolling in across an invisible beach. Even the air smelled faintly of it: the sea, warm food and good wine.

Welcome to Eliot and Margo’s pad, people. They’d make damn sure you had a good time.

[ocd up, come party!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Summer would not object to a hug; she honestly kind of expected it when she saw Seivarden, but...she was really hoping at least that she'd be able to eventually get out of that hug.

"I didn't know I would be here, honestly," she admitted as she hugged Seivarden back and then tried to ensure that she'd be able to extract herself. "But everything seemed to have fallen into place, and you know I can't say no to a good party, so...ta-daaah!"

Please, please, please don't make this awkward.

Seivarden let her go, grinning, one of Eliot's signature drinks with enchanted absinthe in her hand.

"It's good to see you. I've missed you... your hair."

She frowned a little, distracted by the glowing red.

At least she wasn't going to cry in your hair, Summer.

"Have you tried the drinks?"

Her...hair?

Well, Summer wasn't sure if that meant it was a good thing or not she hadn't had the time to actually do much with her hair than keep it in her signature ponytail, but, hey, it was pretty distinctive, so she'll take it?

"I haven't yet," Summer admitted. She'd been too busy spazzing out about her party cred dwindling away in her absense with people like Margo and Eliot on the island now, and having a minor exestential crisis about no one even caring that she'd shown up. "Anything you'd recommend?"

With a small glance toward that drink in Seivarden's hand, because, welp. So much for that whole cutting back on drinking thing that had existed for a hot minute, she guessed.

"They're good," Seivarden said. "Not like your jello shots, but you should try them. Especially this one. Enchanted absinthe, Eliot told me."

Seivarden missed your jello shots, Summer. Even the bad ones.

"So, are you staying for a while?"

She wasn't sober enough not to sound hopeful.

"We never got to throw the arrack marketing party."

Summer's nose wrinkled a little apologetically, and then she wondered if she should point out that it would be hard to throw an arrack party now if Seivarden kept drinking it all.

"Maybe when I get back for longer," she offered, trying to sound more hopeful with her own voice. "For now, it's just kind of for this party and however long I can manage to drag Barry away from whatever he's gotten sucked into this time. I really shouldn't be gone for too long. Honestly, it's kind of a shock I was able to get away for even this."

She was going to be so good if you came back, Summer, the perfect fierce independent badass bitch.

"I understand. It's really good to see you though."

And then Summer got another hug, not a long and clingy one, or rather one that would be clingy if it wasn't short.

Then Seivarden offered her her drink.

"I haven't started this and I can get another one."

"Oh."

"Oh."

One oh for the second hug, the other for the drink now in her hand.

"Uh, thanks?" She gave the liquid in the cup a little swirl and a glance. "What did you say it was? Absinthe? Really?"

"Enchanted absinthe, Eliot told me," Seivarden said. "With champagne and syrup. He's far better than I am at drinks."

She added: "I know that isn't saying much, but still."

Summer's mouth was open and ready to go when Seivarden's addendum came in, so she closed her mouth and just grinned, since she'd pretty much stolen the words right out of it.

"Not gonna lie," she admitted, now bringing the drink up to her nose and giving it a tentative sniff, "Enchanted seems a little sus, but I do know Eliot knows his drinks," from one interaction with him over jello shots, but whatever, that was all she needed to form that bond! "So I think it might be worth a least a try."

And, with that, she took that tentative first sip.

Since Seivarden didn't aim to be a good bartender she could admit her shortcomings there.

"Apparently enchanted means hallucinogenic," she said, as Summer should at least be warned. "In a very pleasant way."

She had been in a really good mood for a while now.

"I do like this party. Oh, did I warn you about Margo? I think she wants your portal gun. I didn't tell her it was you who had it though, so you should be safe."

She grinned, looking at Summer's beautiful red hair. "I think she's annoyed by that."

Seivarden, you definitely had her at hallucinogenic. You didn't even need to add the pleasant, but, as a woman who had met with many a bad trip, that was definitely a bonus.

It did not escape her notice, however, that, all of a sudden, Seivarden was apparently back into the mind-altering stuff again now, too.

She took a big gulp of her drink to wash down any feeling of guilt trying to rise up in her throat. Seivarden was a grown-ass person, probably at least three time Summer's own age. That was not a responsibility she needed to keep on her shoulders!

"She's one of the party's hostesses, right?"

They'd met.

It had not gone great.

"And, I mean, it's not like it's a big fat secret that I'm rolling with a portal gun, Seivarden. If she wants it, though, she's going to have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands."

A pause.

"Or," she said, looking down into her cup, "you know. She could just ask."

She took another gulp, thinking that if their meeting earlier was anything to go by, that felt like a big fat chance.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted every desperate newcomer running after you for the gun," Seivarden said.

"What do you think fo it?"

The drink.

MASQUERADE PARTY, 33 Apocalypse Ave, Friday Evening

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