((Matthew Bell continued from The Earth's Bounty))
A party? Hell yeah. A party that he wasn't hosting and so, he didn't have to worry about cleaning up? Even more hell yeah. A party with a bunch of girls in cute costumes and plenty of booze? Hell fucking yeah!
Matthew was gonna have the goddamn time of his life! He'd come to this party dressed as Elvis from Jailhouse Rock on nothing more than a whim. That, and he already had the jacket and a shirt that looked like the stripy one that dude wore so it was just one trip to one of Salem's seventy fucking costume stores to pick up the hair and voila! He now had a 5 minute costume, and one that actually kept him warm in the New England autumn, which was good because it was fucking freezing tonight.
Marshall was hovering over the more tasteful liquor like an annoying wasp trying to get into your Coke in the summer, but there was plenty of shittier beer and all that floating around. He wouldn't be caught dead with some Miller Lite shit normally, but there wasn't much else floating around, so Matthew had to deal with it. He'd taken the liberty of liberating some Jack Daniels from his dad's own stash of alcohol; risky, but it was good. Didn't wanna waste it just yet, though. Get buzzed on shitty beer and then break out the good shit.
Of course, doing nothing but eating shitty cocktail sausages and drinking shitty beer wasn't all Matthew had planned for here. There were a bunch of girls here, and even if he did say so himself, he did have good luck with them. Dani looked good, as always, even if he hadn't got the chance to talk to her properly yet. So for now, Matthew was gonna just hang out in the big ass kitchen, eat Doritos and sip at his Corona (man, they must be really pissed about the past year or so).
Sip.
"Man, Corona is actually pretty fucking good."
Why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food
Dani's halloween party!
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Applesintime
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Betty S, completely phased out of the conversation, turned to the boy.
"You mean the virus?"
"You mean the virus?"
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
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Applesintime
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Matthew snorted. "Nah, I don't think there's anyone who thinks the coronavirus is a good thing. I mean this. Corona beer. It's like, one of them piss beers that you drink because you don't have anything better but it's actually pretty decent. There's a couple of cans over there in the corner if you wanna try one." He nodded over to a small collection of alcohol, spilled over a kitchen counter. "None of the really good stuff, because Marshall's acting like a fucking cop, but I could probably find something a little harder."
Well, he's found a girl who's not hanging off someone else's shoulder already, so that's a start. Betty, if he was right; although weirdly enough there were like five girls called Betty in JEM. It was a pretty cute name, though, much like the girl he was talking to.
Well, he's found a girl who's not hanging off someone else's shoulder already, so that's a start. Betty, if he was right; although weirdly enough there were like five girls called Betty in JEM. It was a pretty cute name, though, much like the girl he was talking to.
''I uh... Yeah, I just... wasn't paying attention. And then I just heard you go 'Man Corona's actually pretty good' and, well, yeah.''
Enough pauses to look shy, but with her smile more easygoing than the tone would suggest- an invitation for some sort of humerous remark as the gateway of a conversation.
In retrospect it was obvious he was talking about the beer, but when the virus was fresh on everyone's mind and nobody here was old enough to drink, some assumptions would be made.
''Not like I'll know anying about the quality of this stuff. I don't drink. And trust me, nobody's being a cop here. Otherwise, half of this party would be arrested for underaged drinking or... something.''
She tried beer once, when her mom let her take a sip and she immediately recoiled. She tried it again a few years later, and it still tasted like shit. It escapes her why anybody would want to touch this stuff.
Betty tugged at the fabric brushing against her thigh and pulled the dress downwards a bit, as if anybody was paying attention to her when costumes like Danielle's were around.
''What's up with the costume, anyways? Never seen... the show? Game? Whatever before.''
Whatever in deed. Nothing made her feel more out of touch with the current youth trends like halloween parties and whatever was going on on twitter. There was this distinct, unlikable sense of isolation in not knowing all the conversation topics- even when she didn't want to converse. In the end she wanted an isolation she could control- the kind of door where she is in the room and the lock wad on the inside.
But she'll settle for duct taping it shut.
Who was she in the boy's eyes anyways? She knew his kind, but not very well. Shot a few guns and thought he was hot shit. Shoved a kid in a locker and thought it actually meant something outside of the artifical hiearchies of the school. Destined to be in the military for five years and then work a blue collar job while lamentinf a lossible future he could've made as an athlete, oh, you should've seen me in my prime, if only I would've made better decisions in life!
Somewhat more importantly he was a sort of promiscuous that wasn't truly promiscuity, but it still got on her nerves, like she was a achievement to be completed, like a kind of accomplishment to be taken and then bragged about to his friends, why did it feel like that he looked at her like she was just a cute face and a hole to be fuc-
That anger dissipated. She took a sip of her non alcoholic punch. He was just trying to be friendly. A hopeless endeavor in the end. But at least an effort was made. Kind of. Now that she started this thread she had to follow it. It was only polite, after all. Pink nails clicked against the plastic solo cup, her expression open, possibly flirtatious- though people have attributed that intention to many expressions of her's, none of then truly inviting anything other than smalk talk and a plea to walk away.
Enough pauses to look shy, but with her smile more easygoing than the tone would suggest- an invitation for some sort of humerous remark as the gateway of a conversation.
In retrospect it was obvious he was talking about the beer, but when the virus was fresh on everyone's mind and nobody here was old enough to drink, some assumptions would be made.
''Not like I'll know anying about the quality of this stuff. I don't drink. And trust me, nobody's being a cop here. Otherwise, half of this party would be arrested for underaged drinking or... something.''
She tried beer once, when her mom let her take a sip and she immediately recoiled. She tried it again a few years later, and it still tasted like shit. It escapes her why anybody would want to touch this stuff.
Betty tugged at the fabric brushing against her thigh and pulled the dress downwards a bit, as if anybody was paying attention to her when costumes like Danielle's were around.
''What's up with the costume, anyways? Never seen... the show? Game? Whatever before.''
Whatever in deed. Nothing made her feel more out of touch with the current youth trends like halloween parties and whatever was going on on twitter. There was this distinct, unlikable sense of isolation in not knowing all the conversation topics- even when she didn't want to converse. In the end she wanted an isolation she could control- the kind of door where she is in the room and the lock wad on the inside.
But she'll settle for duct taping it shut.
Who was she in the boy's eyes anyways? She knew his kind, but not very well. Shot a few guns and thought he was hot shit. Shoved a kid in a locker and thought it actually meant something outside of the artifical hiearchies of the school. Destined to be in the military for five years and then work a blue collar job while lamentinf a lossible future he could've made as an athlete, oh, you should've seen me in my prime, if only I would've made better decisions in life!
Somewhat more importantly he was a sort of promiscuous that wasn't truly promiscuity, but it still got on her nerves, like she was a achievement to be completed, like a kind of accomplishment to be taken and then bragged about to his friends, why did it feel like that he looked at her like she was just a cute face and a hole to be fuc-
That anger dissipated. She took a sip of her non alcoholic punch. He was just trying to be friendly. A hopeless endeavor in the end. But at least an effort was made. Kind of. Now that she started this thread she had to follow it. It was only polite, after all. Pink nails clicked against the plastic solo cup, her expression open, possibly flirtatious- though people have attributed that intention to many expressions of her's, none of then truly inviting anything other than smalk talk and a plea to walk away.
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
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Applesintime
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Just someone zoning out and mishearing him, even if what Betty did hear was like... kinda weird for him to be saying. Perfectly understandable. Matthew took another sip of his Corona, relishing the kind of... fruity taste? Lemony, orangy, something with citrus in it, didn't really matter what, but it was getting him buzzed good enough.
"That's fair. Both on the uh, not hearing me and the not drinking part." Another sip. "It's an acquired taste, I think. Beer. It's one of those things that you just normally... you just try and ignore the shitty taste and focus on the alcohol part, unless you're one of those guys who drink chocolate flavored beer or some weird shit like that." At her comment about cops not being here, Matthew shrugged. "I dunno. Marshall's guarding the harder stuff like his life depends on it. Dunno why he has to be a buzzkill, but that's just what he's decided to do, I guess." Seemed like a bit of an asshole thing to do in his opinion. Like, dude, nearly everyone who was here was maybe a ten or fifteen minute walk away from here, or they could just catch the bus or something. If you were the DD, just don't drink. Easy.
"Elvis! I'm, uh, Elvis. From Jailhouse Rock? You know, uh," Setting the can down on a table, Matthew tried to do the dance thing that Elvis did during the song. He probably looked like a total dumbass to Betty but y'know what, that was sometimes just how it went, "The warden threw a party in the county jail, the prison band was there and they began to wai-" During his shitty dancing, Matthew hit his arm against the table with a wince, his face screwing up in pain for a second before he started giggling. He'd hit his funny bone or some shit. Dumbass.
Honestly, he sorta wondered why Elvis? There were a bunch more things he could dress up as, but it was probably subliminal messaging from his mom and her obsession with Elvis. Matthew couldn't fault her, some of his songs were actually pretty fucking good, but she was probably more interested in the guy himself, which y'know what, fair, he's a pretty good looker, it makes sense that all the teenage girls were swooning over him in the 60s or whatever.
"Right, uh, heheh... what's your costume? You look pretty good in it." Matthew gave her a little smile, reaching to take another sip of his Corona. Nearly out, but that was fine. Betty kinda looked like she was open to some flirting? But if not, then that was great too. What'd that sniper guy say, you missed 100% of the shots you don't take or something like that?
"That's fair. Both on the uh, not hearing me and the not drinking part." Another sip. "It's an acquired taste, I think. Beer. It's one of those things that you just normally... you just try and ignore the shitty taste and focus on the alcohol part, unless you're one of those guys who drink chocolate flavored beer or some weird shit like that." At her comment about cops not being here, Matthew shrugged. "I dunno. Marshall's guarding the harder stuff like his life depends on it. Dunno why he has to be a buzzkill, but that's just what he's decided to do, I guess." Seemed like a bit of an asshole thing to do in his opinion. Like, dude, nearly everyone who was here was maybe a ten or fifteen minute walk away from here, or they could just catch the bus or something. If you were the DD, just don't drink. Easy.
"Elvis! I'm, uh, Elvis. From Jailhouse Rock? You know, uh," Setting the can down on a table, Matthew tried to do the dance thing that Elvis did during the song. He probably looked like a total dumbass to Betty but y'know what, that was sometimes just how it went, "The warden threw a party in the county jail, the prison band was there and they began to wai-" During his shitty dancing, Matthew hit his arm against the table with a wince, his face screwing up in pain for a second before he started giggling. He'd hit his funny bone or some shit. Dumbass.
Honestly, he sorta wondered why Elvis? There were a bunch more things he could dress up as, but it was probably subliminal messaging from his mom and her obsession with Elvis. Matthew couldn't fault her, some of his songs were actually pretty fucking good, but she was probably more interested in the guy himself, which y'know what, fair, he's a pretty good looker, it makes sense that all the teenage girls were swooning over him in the 60s or whatever.
"Right, uh, heheh... what's your costume? You look pretty good in it." Matthew gave her a little smile, reaching to take another sip of his Corona. Nearly out, but that was fine. Betty kinda looked like she was open to some flirting? But if not, then that was great too. What'd that sniper guy say, you missed 100% of the shots you don't take or something like that?
“Don’t blame Marhshall for it. People are more difficult to control under the influence. Bar fights, you know, saying things you don’t mean and breaking things you don’t want to break. Might be him trying to make sure nobody sets a couch on fire. But then again, I personally find the concept of being influenced by foreign substances daunging, so it might just be me?”
(She did, in fact, tried slamming an inch and a half of vodka in a small mug a few months back, just to see how it felt. It was this sort of thing that she knew was stupid and she knew she should never do and she did it anyways just to do it once and never again.)
“I don’t know that song.”
In fact, Betty knew nothing about Elvis, or music that wasn’t made after somewhere around 1985. Maybe some people found liking old songs could just be their entire personality (Oh, born in the wrong era!) but she never got the appeal. Sometimes an older person would tell her that she’s missing out.
“Still a nice costume though,” She lied, and then barked out a laugh when he banged his arm against the table- sch… something. It was kind of funny to see him make a fool of himself. Embarrassing, though, the kind that sort of made her cringe a little inside. Her laugh was sort of a snort and sort of ugly and real in a way that she hated because she had a fake laugh that sounded a lot clearer and higher-pitched, melodic and gentle. This was a mean laugh, but he laughed at himself, too, so it was mostly fine.
“Well…”
She twirled around playfully, dress spinning around her.
“Scooby-Doo series, Daphne. I was going for a theme, but when we’re seperated it’s a little odder out of context, you know?”
(She did, in fact, tried slamming an inch and a half of vodka in a small mug a few months back, just to see how it felt. It was this sort of thing that she knew was stupid and she knew she should never do and she did it anyways just to do it once and never again.)
“I don’t know that song.”
In fact, Betty knew nothing about Elvis, or music that wasn’t made after somewhere around 1985. Maybe some people found liking old songs could just be their entire personality (Oh, born in the wrong era!) but she never got the appeal. Sometimes an older person would tell her that she’s missing out.
“Still a nice costume though,” She lied, and then barked out a laugh when he banged his arm against the table- sch… something. It was kind of funny to see him make a fool of himself. Embarrassing, though, the kind that sort of made her cringe a little inside. Her laugh was sort of a snort and sort of ugly and real in a way that she hated because she had a fake laugh that sounded a lot clearer and higher-pitched, melodic and gentle. This was a mean laugh, but he laughed at himself, too, so it was mostly fine.
“Well…”
She twirled around playfully, dress spinning around her.
“Scooby-Doo series, Daphne. I was going for a theme, but when we’re seperated it’s a little odder out of context, you know?”
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
Spike Havighurst was dressed as if he was part of the Misfits, iconic hairline included and all. It looks like he wasn't the only one with the idea of dressing up like a musician, though. In the room, Spike spotted Matthew, a buddy of his. A workout buddy, to be specific.
Looked like he was talking to a gal. It was one of the Betties from school. He couldn't make out what they were talking about, so he stepped towards them and greeted Matthew by offering a fistbump.
"Hey, how's it goin'."
Looked like he was talking to a gal. It was one of the Betties from school. He couldn't make out what they were talking about, so he stepped towards them and greeted Matthew by offering a fistbump.
"Hey, how's it goin'."
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Applesintime
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"I guess." Matthew shrugged. "Still, I dunno, that's why you get the muscular people to be at the ready in case you need to kick someone out of a party. Or, better yet, you just don't invite the people who get all crazy when they get alcohol in them to parties with alcohol." Sip. "Hey, you do you. I'm not gonna be telling you what to do."
"Eh, my mom always has it on. She's a big fan of Elvis, y'know? Has a bunch of uh, merchandise and shit like that off Etsy or wherever she gets it from? He's a pretty decent singer so yeah, I get where she's coming from." Matthew was certain she had a cardboard cutout of Elvis in the garage somewhere, which was actually kinda fucking weird. Like, he got an easy costume idea from it which was good, but having a bunch of garage space taken up by Elvis was weird. Moving on, though, stuff seemed to be going pretty well. She twirled for him, laughed at his stupid dancing. "Separated? You here as part of like, a Scooby Doo group?"
And then came Spike, to ruin the vibe. Matthew didn't have anything against him, but this kinda was an A/B conversation, and Spike showing up was maybe gonna kill the vibe. Even still, there wasn't any need to be a dick. So he fistbumped Spike with one hand, and took another sip of his beer with the other, only to find out it was empty, damn. "Heya Spike, sup?"
"Eh, my mom always has it on. She's a big fan of Elvis, y'know? Has a bunch of uh, merchandise and shit like that off Etsy or wherever she gets it from? He's a pretty decent singer so yeah, I get where she's coming from." Matthew was certain she had a cardboard cutout of Elvis in the garage somewhere, which was actually kinda fucking weird. Like, he got an easy costume idea from it which was good, but having a bunch of garage space taken up by Elvis was weird. Moving on, though, stuff seemed to be going pretty well. She twirled for him, laughed at his stupid dancing. "Separated? You here as part of like, a Scooby Doo group?"
And then came Spike, to ruin the vibe. Matthew didn't have anything against him, but this kinda was an A/B conversation, and Spike showing up was maybe gonna kill the vibe. Even still, there wasn't any need to be a dick. So he fistbumped Spike with one hand, and took another sip of his beer with the other, only to find out it was empty, damn. "Heya Spike, sup?"
"That's kind of creepy," she said. "And also a bit parasocial."
Do you know that he was into fourteen year old? No, seriously. Look it up. He was twenty-four.
It was almost cathartic to have Spike take over the conversation and drag Matt's attention away from her. She sort of felt like this conversation wasn't about anything anyways.
((She slipped off.))
Do you know that he was into fourteen year old? No, seriously. Look it up. He was twenty-four.
It was almost cathartic to have Spike take over the conversation and drag Matt's attention away from her. She sort of felt like this conversation wasn't about anything anyways.
((She slipped off.))
Blood Tongue Nails Teeth
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Applesintime
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"Hey, it's not creepy. If she had like, a fuckin' cardboard cutout of him in the garage and a body pillow of him, it'd be creepy, but she's just a fan of him." Matthew was starting to lose interest. It was pretty clear that he wasn't, like, going to get anything out of this, and the comment about how having fucking merch of a singer his mom liked was 'weird' had kinda pissed him off a little. So he let her slip away. Bye. Go fuck yourself.
"Stuck up bitch." Matthew sighed, turning to Spike. "Fucking... parasocial bullshit? Bet you she's the kind of girl who fucking... has a bunch of little fucking plushies and has dreams about blowing some shit-tier Youtuber or something because she has no friends, but having fucking merchandise of a singer you like is weird." He set his Corona down on the counter a little aggressively. "I'm gonna take five. Get some cold air before I get too pissed and deck someone. Seriously, what a fucking bitch. Keep an eye on my beer, would ya?"
With that, Matthew headed out of the kitchen door. There was some dude smoking, and Matthew gave him a brief nod before pulling his phone out. Mom probably wanted to know how he was doing.
((Matthew Bell continued in It's Christmas, and we're on Mars.))
"Stuck up bitch." Matthew sighed, turning to Spike. "Fucking... parasocial bullshit? Bet you she's the kind of girl who fucking... has a bunch of little fucking plushies and has dreams about blowing some shit-tier Youtuber or something because she has no friends, but having fucking merchandise of a singer you like is weird." He set his Corona down on the counter a little aggressively. "I'm gonna take five. Get some cold air before I get too pissed and deck someone. Seriously, what a fucking bitch. Keep an eye on my beer, would ya?"
With that, Matthew headed out of the kitchen door. There was some dude smoking, and Matthew gave him a brief nod before pulling his phone out. Mom probably wanted to know how he was doing.
((Matthew Bell continued in It's Christmas, and we're on Mars.))
Spike smiled and nodded as Matthew spoke even though he had no clue what the fuck Matty was talking about.
Eh. Parties be chaotic like that.
Then Matt went away to get some fresh air, so Spike watched Matt's beer while sipping his own.
((Spike Havighurst continued elsewhere))
Eh. Parties be chaotic like that.
Then Matt went away to get some fresh air, so Spike watched Matt's beer while sipping his own.
((Spike Havighurst continued elsewhere))