newroutines | Party!, Purposefully Creepy Mansion, Thursday Evening

It was once more Halloween, and the island had finally calmed the fuck down again.

Well, mostly. The Jack O'Lanterns outside in the yard lighting the way to the house occasionally laughed in a PG-rated creepy fashion, and bat cut-outs flew around the ceiling above the partygoers' heads, and the black cats printed on the sides of balloons flicked their tails back and forth and sometimes hissed at people when they went by.

And because it was tradition, there was a bloody goblin in the fridge, complete with a name tag identifying it as April. Only this time, whenever you opened the door to get something, it'd tell you whatever you were grabbing was actually poison...ously delicious!

(Shut up, it was made of plastic, its punning game wasn't the greatest.)

There were also once more lots of snacks, lots of drinks, and way too many kinds of jello shots. But fewer renditions of Monster Mash on the Spotify playlist for this party, this year! So far, anyway. Mike had a sign up againwith instructions on how to find the playlist and add songs to it, so that may not last all through the evening.

[ooc: OCD up, have at! OPEN TO ALL! If you're an adult, you got an invitation! Students are welcome to try and sneak in should they so wish, but may be politely removed from the premises.]

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Seivarden was used to Amaya wearing gloves, and while it wasn't like she hadn't seen her without them, seeing Amaya like that, with bare hands in public, was a bit distracting, especially since she had already ~~downed~~ finished her first drink.

She did her best not to let that show though, and grinned at Amaya. "Nice costume. Do you want a drink?"

She had two, probably vodka.

"This costume is absurd," Amaya complained, adjusting it awkwardly, again, before not wasting any time reaching for the drink she was feeling was desperately needed. "Not at all what was advertised! On-line shopping!" She snorted derisively. "Lesson learned!"

Seivarden kept grinning as she handed Amaya the drink, letting their fingers touch briefly in a way that only a Radchaai would realize was flirting. It wasn't breaking any rules if nobody got it, was it?

"I see a lot of people in even more absurd costumes," she said.

Including the person apparently being flirted with? Even if she wasn't already feeling uncomfortable and just focused on the drink, Amaya probably wouldn't have picked up on that one.

She gave a dubious look around the room, though, not really believing it. The gaze might have lingered a little on Rosa, since her costume was much more like the one Amaya had thought she was getting, and she wondered if she could convince the other woman to switch before the night was out, but those were thoughts she'd definitely keep to herself in the present company.

There was a drink to quaff anyway.

A drink that maybe shouldn't have been quaffed, but too late now!

"They're not so bad," she concluded. Adjusting her own. Again.

Seivarden figured she would have to make a lot of effort if Amaya was going to pick up on any flirting, so she felt she was safe there.

She downed the rest of her own drink, looked at the glass and said cheerfully: "I need another one."

Amaya considered her glass, then Seivarden's, then her own again, shrugged (instantly regretted it because there went all her careful adjusting right out the window, thus the shrug turned into a sort of shifting shoulders move to keep everything remaining in delicate balance), then killed the rest of hers and handed it back out to Seivarden.

"Make it two," she said.

She did not have confidence in her own ability to prevent wardrobe malfunctions and pour drinks at the same time at that moment, no.

That made Seivarden's grin even wider. She took Amaya's glass, headed over to the table and returned with two full glasses.

"It said tequila on the bottle. Don't you have some kind of adhesive to make that costume stay in place?"

"Thanks," said Amaya, nodding a bit as she took the second glass with no doubt some small amount of completely unnoticed hand molestation. "But, yeah, I wasn't expecting to have to accessorize with a roll of duct tape."

Seivarden would claim it was elegant and tasteful hand molestation.

"You can borrow my jacket if that makes you more comfortable," she offered, although she was aware it might not cover the problematic parts.

Amaya considered it a moment as she sipped from her straight-up full glass of tequila. Because sipping would definitely be all she'd do with that one.

She was thinking of possibly leaning into the switching with Diaz plan at the moment.

"We'll see," she decided. "I might take you up on that, but maybe we'll just see if it gets...better?"

It would not get better.

"Of course," Seivarden replied, deciding to start this drink by sipping too.

"Any chopped up clowns yesterday?"

"Not chopped up," Amaya offered, "but thoroughly bashed in! Got some good use out of one of my maces." The woman did love her spikes. "How about you? I was thinking about just taking the Crumbler out through the streets, but I'd be just as likely to catch up just as many of this island's fighty-types as I would the clowns themselves! The Crumbler is not exactly discerning when she gets going."

"I did some target practice, although it wasn't that much of a challenge," Seivarden said. "I'm glad I didn't get run over by the Crumbler though."

She was still occasionally glancing at Amaya's hands. Yes, there were a lot of other bare hands around, but not ones that usually wore gloves and that she had actually had some intimate experience with. This would never be mentioned of course, and she trusted that Amaya wouldn't notice.

Party!, Purposefully Creepy Mansion, Thursday Evening

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