The Party

[Kermit]

New Year's Eve, Silver Springs. Obviously. Whose house? If you needed to know, you already knew. If you're here, you're already here.

Private function.

And you already know what it looks like. Fluorescence, don't need a description. Air's thick. Feels like 5 Gum wishes it felt.

Feels good. Good. Good? Good. Good. That's what they call it. Buzzzzing.

"Psst, I see dead people," Kendrick whispered from the stereo.

Twenty minutes 'til midnight.

[LYourLocalAutist]

At around the centre of it all, there's a sofa. It has weathered decades of wearing and tearing from social functions and feet being put up on it and remains one of the comfiest things man has designed. It's in front of the TV, tuned to some station on which a monument to human decadence is presented on the strip. In around nineteen minutes, a ball will fall on top of it.

Tonight, the sofa was claimed by the sports-ballers, and their supportive in theory, more popular in practice fellow members of the school sport genus, the cheerleaders. Around now, the others begin to trickle in as the decade's halfway point creeps ever closer.

These others come into the sickly smell of drinks and sounds of lightly tipsy conversation. The current turn of this conversation belongs to one little cheerleader, whose name you know if you're here. Her red solo cup is covered by one of those little scrunchies. So are those of half the women here, whatever. She has her feet up on the couch, knees to her chest as she talks about... whatever everyone else was talking about. The drink idles in her hand, almost like a placeholder for nothing in particular.

"...And yeah, and it's like, Gen Beta starts this year. Can you believe that? Next few dozen generations get all the cool Greek letters n' we're stuck with just Z, too, and..."

[Cicada]

A girl had been quietly sipping Bombay Sapphire mixed with tonic and lime, cozily squished into the least crowded bit of couch. She was likewise drinking in the ambiance of a tiny girl's flush faced rant. The two were closer than close friends, a relationship transcending the immediacy of the role they played as a duo holding prime positions in the party's social heirarchy.

Whatever that meant.

Girl with the gin and tonic- name well known, quirks likewise public domain- perked up a bit when the stereo system whose bass she'd been passively admiring came alive. She affixed a lepoard print claw clip to the rim of her red solo with a click. It joined a careful arrangement of other party goer's cups set atop a pleasantly nondescript modernist coffee table.

There was just enough space to pop off to the song of the year. Hair down she danced with practiced fluidity. Louder with her body than she was in most situations where people could see her. Step, cross, step, whoops! But in the call the ambulance but not for me way when she seemed to trip but actually fluidly caught herself, leaned, reversed the lean. Her hands ate the beat, the only thing she'd eaten since breakfast.

She took up just enough space standing to not collide into others in the increasingly buzzing room. The you had to be there room. The she definitely belongs here as long as she doesn't say something stupid room.

'its probably a minorrrrrrrrrrrrr-'

[midnight_twelve]

A black bow tie on a crisp white shirt. A bottle of champagne in a sea of solo cups. A silver watch, one hand lapping the other as they raced towards the finish line, raced towards a new hour, a new day, a new year. Niall weaved his winding way between couples and cliques, dancers and drinkers and drunkards, friends and friends of friends and friends of friends of friends. Everyone who was anyone, to anyone except him. Niall’s everyone was somewhere else.

((Niall Harris: Memories Start))

This house was not unfamiliar, though if Niall were to try and recall exactly which parties it had hosted, he wondered if the memories would come apart, all melted as they were, this house and that, here and there, back then, and then, again, last year, the year before. He knew Stella herself well enough, which was to say, he barely knew her at all; he thought, looking around, it was maybe that lampshade he remembered clearest of all, if for no reason other than that he’d thought the same thing the last time he was here. Or perhaps that was some other house, some other host. He knew the people on that settee, at least. The nearest girl, one of the cheerleaders, was a fellow fixture of these sorts of parties. She was as good a conversation partner as any, nicer than many, smarter than most. Niall felt he knew her well enough to intrude.

“Evening, Sylvie. I don’t suppose you’ve seen our host recently?”

Niall set the bottle gently down on the coffee table, conscientiously out of reach of all but the most acrobatic dance move Clarissa might dare to attempt, and leant against the arm of the settee.

“I was hoping she might have some flutes I could borrow. Do you guys drink champagne?”

[LYourLocalAutist]

"-So my Dad told me 'It'll happen to you' and I was like 'no way' but Jesus it's really going to isn't it- huh?"

Even through the haze of tipsiness and music melding and muddling her mind, the small thing could recognize the one thing being sounded out that was definitively hers. She turned her head to lay her eyes on one Niall... Harris, that was it. Her eyes did a vertical one-two, almost as a form of appraisal. Almost an instinct based on the setting. Implacable formality amongst the sea of unbridled teenage... call it "aura"... unmistakably Niall. A smile crossed her lips.

"Niall! Hi! Nice fit- love the bow. Fancy."

Twinsies with her own up on her hair. Fraternal, probably. Her mind turned to Stella at his question. Stella, Stella, Stella, last name something out of a pharmaceutical company. The gracious host, the it girl. She hadn't seen her since they greeted- either she'd been staunchly avoiding the couch or Sylvie had unlocked a special class of obliviousness. She looked around a little bit to see if she could catch sight of her but to no avail, just glimpsing the beautiful melding of Clarissa and song for a moment.

"Mmh, no... betcha she's out by the drinks. Speaking of..."

Her eyes turned down to the paragon of a drink bottle as it was clanked down onto the coffee table and made all the cheap beer-filled plastic clones feel inadequate and conscious about their body image. If Niall had a quirk, it was this: always the guy with the fanciest drink at the function. She let out a whistle, impressed, then replied.

"I mean, technically none of us should be drinking, but..."

She chuckled as she shrugged, her quip earning a bit of a laugh from her surrounding peers. Inwardly, there was a little churning feeling that was very familiar to her, like it was always simply waiting to happen. Imperceptibly, she shivered. The cup in her hand felt a bit more real, for the worse. She pressed on like it was nothing. It was nothing.

"...Ahh, not really, but I could try. New Year's traditional drink and all." She shrugged but maintained a promising look up at Niall. She hadn't ever tried champagne before, but it was definitely a rich-lawyer-class drink. Her parents were certainly fans. She'd probably be a fan herself. Or have to be, anyway.

[Kermit]

Bedrooms and basement strictly off-limits to guests. Blink™ home security cameras in every major room and hallway. Handful of football guys working security, Ingrid as the eyes. Lars watching cartoons, locked in the basement from the inside.

Stella Nyquist was helming a sophisticated operation here, yknow.

She wasn't near the drinks.

((She was sitting alone on a bed, door locked. Eyes closed, no expression. White walls, no posters, decorations sparse. Looking at it, you'd assume it was someone else's bedroom.))

Just taking a moment to herself.

[SharkyTGirl185]

Meghan didn’t exactly know where she was at the moment. All she knew is she was lying on the floor, her face down as a few loose beer cans were strewn around her. She loved New Years, especially social events with alcohol. She can hang out with others and be happy. She slowly attempted to stand up but slips and fell back on the ground, groaning softly.

“They not like us, they not like us, they not like us…”

Meghan slowly sat up on her hands and knees, coughing as she hoisted herself up, trying to clear her head “Keep the noise level down everyone! Can’t have…cops coming here and busting us…that would sully my career..” She laughed, throwing her head back and some saliva sputtering out of her mouth .

[Kermit]

Every walkie-talkie carried by party staff blared to life for the first time.

"Stella to Auxiliary Team, over." Unmodulated, no vocal affect. Music was quiet on her end.

"Auxiliary Team here," replied the voice of Brixsen, football benchwarmer.

"Grapevine says we nearly had a Code Blue in the foyer, looks like Meggy, over." Using the right hospital code.

"We'll send someone over. Over."

"Just keep eyes on her, make sure she stays safe, over."

"Copy that. Over."

"Thanks Brixsen, you're a champ, over."

Brief dead air.

"Stella to Snacks, keep Meggy to zero proof drinks only, over."

"Bet," replied the voice of Robert.

"Bet, over and out."

Seventeen and a half minutes.

[Cicada]

The crowd of faces in the foyer had been brief. It thinned out quickly, leaving only one concerned girl who had been dancing a minute prior before sharply bounding into the moment.

"Brixs', I got Meggy."

"You sure about that, 'Rissa?"

"Yeah. You want to be the one wiping the spit off her cheeks?"

"Point taken. Take it easy, there's a Jägerbomb with your name on it in the kitchen. Not for her though."

Brixsen gestured at the cop fallen in the line of duty question mark.

"Sure," the girl giggled. "What's with the walkie talkies by the way?"

[[Clarissa Shoemaker, Memory Thread - 2]]

Oh, he was already gone. Cool guy. Seriously, what with the walkie talkies though? Clarissa vaguely recalled she'd seen something like that at a Nyquist home party before. Thinking emoji...

Speaking of being confused about things! Clarissa wondered briefly if there was, like, literally a cup with liqueur and Monster with 'Clarissa Shoemaker' written on it in sharpie sitting in the kitchen somewhere. But that was stupid so she promptly stopped wondering it.

"Meggy. Meggy, wake up."

Clarissa cooed like one might to their dog as her hand lightly squeezed the fallen girls shoulder.

They had something of a history, after all. When Clarissa's fingers gently swabbed at the wetness around Meggy's lips that was something she had done before in a very different context. Doing it now felt familiar and natural but... definitely not the same as it had back then. The word exes definitely meant something.

Also, total aside but, reaching down for something on the floor was soooo awkward feeling in a cocktail dress. She had to half squat like she was in the gym. Clarissa was itchy and uncomfy as she was kinda pretty. The only reason she was there in a dress at all and not jeans was because Joanne had been very insistent on her not doing the Thing with the always wearing clothes that were apparently not context appropriate or whatever.

"I feel like we've done this before. Mmm, November, the Barrel, something something... Come back to me, please and thankies."

'You called Future when you didn't see the club
Lil Baby helped you get your lingo up
21 gave you false street cred
Thug made you feel like you a slime in your head'

[SharkyTGirl185]

Meghan gave a soft groan, her brain thumping against her skull as she fluttered her eyes open and shook her head wildly. Her eyes scan around for a second before focusing on Clarissa, giving a small grin.

“Clarissa! Hey! Aww, you came to check up on little ol’ meee?” Meghan laughed with a blush, moving her head back from Clarissa’s thumb “Hey, no touching, or I’ll have to write you up for indecency. You already have enough tickets as it is from meeeee!.”

She giggled a little, playfully biting at Clarissa’s thumb. Oh yeah. She was drunk drunk.

[Cicada]

Oooohh, it was baaaaad. Yet more memories of that month she and Meggy had been an item, sluggish junioritis months earlier that year, warm sun, short shorts, parties objectively proving Clarissa held her drink better.

In this moment memories were irrelevant, duh, but they kept jumping up out of the waters that Clarissa wasn't fishing out of. Distracting her. Reminded her, Clarissa had never really got the whole 'I'm gonna give you a ticket thing'. In theory a vibe but question mark question mark, etc.

Clarissa withdrew her hand from Meggy's face.

"Indecency? Mmm, not really. There's worse happening in Stella's upstairs bathroom right now. I think."

It was rare Clarissa was the one who was talking like she knew what she was doing. Like she was the one to be relied on? Felt weeeeird.

"You gonna be good to get off the floor? Here's my hands," she found Meggy's lying, like, somewhere on the floor like discarded cans. Note to self, clean up the other cans lying around. Or maybe one of the walkie talkie kids would come over and get them at some point. "Don't count the fingers-" definitely redundant at this point. "Just grab them and lets get you some water."

[SharkyTGirl185]

Meggy took Clarissa’s hand, hoisting her body up once more with a giggle as she leaned against her “I’m fiiiine, you know me Clarissa! It’s a few drinks! Nothing i can’t handl-“

Gag

Meghan paused, placing her arm over her mouth. She stayed quiet for a moment, before nodding, having now become aware over how hammered she is.

“Okay…yeah water. That sounds good…” She slowly nodded, now her face becoming flushed with embarrassment.

[LYourLocalAutist]

"...Yyyyeah."

Sylvie's turn at The Couch had ended.

She'd mostly trailed off and let someone else pick up the topic when her eyes landed on the floor-Meggy when Clarissa came down to help her. She frowned. Meggy looked pretty bad, as far as sprawled-out intoxicated cops went. It was good that Clarissa was there. Good for them.

Some little pang suddenly struck her. She wanted to help as well. It wouldn't be fair to leave Cs all on her own. What could she do... thank goodness she was sober enough to think. Let's see: Drunk people... like... water. That was probably where Clarissa would take her after she got her up, but she'd likely have her hands full— of Meggy. Sylvie, not exactly trusting Meggy's current ability to do normal human things like stand on her own, decided to lay her cup down on the coffee table. Popping on over the back of the couch, she made for the drinks, with the purest of them in mind.

Not minutes later, she was approaching C & M with a bottle of the stuff, feeling a little proud of herself.

"Hey, I got some-"

Just in time to watch the would-be cop on the floor try to flirt with the person trying to help her. Tiny blush- fuck off, brain. Responsible things are happening.

"-Oh Christ it's bad. I, uh, have water if she can get up."

[Cicada]

((OOC: Meggy GMing approved by Sharky))

Clarissa's eyebrows tied themselves into knots- metaphor or something like that. They felt loopty-loop and pull.

The visceral throaty noise Meggy had made hurt to hear. It was a primordial tremor in the deepest part of her skull. The panic button, the DEFCON subtraction. Clarissa was not supposed to be the responsible one. She was not supposed to be the first responder to a girl one step shy of aspirating her last meal. Meggy was the first responder type, but she was the one on the floor. Uh. Stella, or, uh, uh, Vivian, or

Sylvie. Thank god. Clarissa felt the weight in the pit of her stomach dissolve the same way gin and tonic hit. Smooth and easy. The storm in Clarissa's eyes dissipated into a blank sky.

"The water should help. Fuck, I'm glad to see you Sylvie. Let's, uh, sit her upright first..."

Clarissa had held Meggy before, all that. Once upon a time. She knew how to handle her in a way that didn't leave a bruise. Gentle. Clarissa hefted with hand on the armpit carefully draped more over the back of the shoulder- better leverage.

Clarissa only needed one arm to get Meggy into a safer seated position against the wall. Clarissa continued to support her with that arm- didn't want Meggy's head against cold hard mansion wall. The other hand- her right- gently gripped one of Meggy's free hands, the ones awkwardly flopping everywhere. Fingers intertwined. Reassurance. Everyone needed a little of that from time to time.

[SharkyTGirl185]

This was embarrassing. Meghan felt sick and now Clarissa of all people was holding her. Now, in most circumstances she’d wouldn’t mind it, in fact if it wasn’t for the alcohol in her system and her increasing embarrassment, she’d be a blushing, sweaty mess.

Sylvie- oh yay, another cute girl seeing me like this! is this Christmas? approached with some water and Meghan suppressed another gag as she snagged it from her “T-Thank you.”

She immediately downed the water, craning her neck upwards and chugging the water. She coughed, tossing the cup back to Sylvie as she leaned against Clarissa

“fuck, kinda hoped it was vodka.” She have a small giggle, flustered still