I'm half drunk, I can't see straight

[bragnificent]

WHO: REGGIE MANTLE, ARCHIE ANDREWS, and YOU.
WHERE: Archie & Reggie's apartment in Heropa.
WHEN: Weekend of June 16th-18th.
WHAT: Reggie and Archie celebrate their newfound independence and take advantage of Reggie's new ability to generate alcohol in a typical teenage fashion: by throwing a party. The theme this month is SUPERHEROES and the invitation is public, so anyone is free to tag in regardless of existing CR!
WARNINGS: Underage drinking mainly, though potentially other party-typical (or otherwise) sensitive content (e.g. drug use, sexual implications/activity, etc.); please mark threads for content as applicable!


INSIDE ( FRI )

ARRIVAL, FOOD & DRINKS:
↳ The apartment, granted, isn't huge -- one of the standard government two bedrooms -- but that's obviously not of major concern for this party's two charming hosts. There's still room outside should it get too crowded... but also, a good party is always a little crowded.

The dining room table is laid out with paper plates and pizza boxes -- the different kinds labeled with post-its -- a stack of red plastic cups, and a cooler of soda, although as specified in the invites hopefully guests also brought their own drinks along if they don't want to be sipping tap water by the end of the evening. Reggie will tell guests as they arrive (if he's the one to greet them) to come find him whenever they need their drinks "freshened up": find him, talk to him, he'll work his magic to turn whatever your drink of choice more alcoholic. All for free this time, too! So generous of him.

The party will be going from "6 PM - ????" but feel free to arrive earlier, and to stay as long as you want. Odds are the festivities will spill over into the early hours of Saturday morning, which gives everyone plenty of time to mingle and make new friends, enemies, love connections, or whatever else, and there's a couch, the floor, tables?!, or even Archie or Reggie's own beds that can be crashed on in a pinch. True that last option might be awkward, but only maybe. They might not even notice!

OPTIONS / ACTIVITIES:
↳ Since it is a party, the whole of the apartment is effectively at any guest's disposal, even beyond the common areas; it may not be considered the most classy to pop inside the hosts's bedrooms, but also hardly unheard of if anyone's in need of some privacy or just a moment alone to take a quick breather.

In the common areas, of course, people are free to mingle, drink, and dance-- hell, it's encouraged. Go wild, grind on each other, show off yours costumes, enjoy the free food, do shots, sit on the couch and chat... the night is full of options, and that's not even including the potential for party games: various drinking games are bound to be organized and played throughout the night, as well as a tipsily-judged (and dubiously categorized) costume "contest" and, naturally, there's always the classic ice-breaker game Never Have I Ever.

Just try not to get too rowdy or turn the music up too loud, in case the neighbors complain! Or you know what, fuck those guys. Smoke in the bathroom, make out on the balcony. If it gets too crowded for you, clear off a table and dance there instead! Seriously, do whatever you want.

OUTSIDE ( FRI )

↳ Outside things might be a little quieter and less crowded, depending on the time of night-- although that's still a "maybe," because on a warm Florida night there's nothing more fun than partying at a poolside. Hope you brought suits or incorporated them into your costumes! But hell, even if not, no one's really going to judge anyone too hard for jumping in (or getting pushed in) with their clothes on or even in their underwear. Anything goes, after all!

There might not be blasting music except for the dim sounds of what can still be heard from the apartment -- unless someone's come prepared and brought their own, of course -- but there's the ambient sounds of conversation and traffic and other such night noise, and the pool area is nicely lit up. It'll close for the night eventually, but still feel free to sneak back in after hours if you don't mind the darkness. Just, y'know, don't drown.

SATURDAY ( MORNING )

↳ By the time Saturday morning rolls around, a lot of people may or may not have left already -- one never can really tell how long a party will last -- but those who haven't may either still be awake (talking, swimming, making out, watching TV, or whatever else) or passed out asleep wherever they found space to.

Sleep in as long as you need, drag yourselves awake and help each other tend to your potential respective hangovers, dig into your hosts's leftovers and/or fridge, or just take the opportunity to have a quiet conversation or moment alone with someone you didn't have the chance to while the party was in full swing.

Comments

tw mention of unscrupulous therapeutic practices and dead animals !!

[pillz]

[there are like, three things in the kitchen, but fortunately breakfast food doesn't generally require a lot of complex implements. an omelet is forming in the pan, meat and sweet peppers and cheese, which may or may not have been in the refrigerator.]

I graduated from hating on ladies last week. Join me, in feminism.

[salt and pepper go in, and kavinsky watches the cheese melt. it's really just congealed animal milk. some of the videos he's been watching in treatment have dead animals in them, so it's fortunate, he supposes, that making omelets doesn't give him any kind of a murder boner. he overturns the egg blob neatly, and the newly exposed side is a pretty shade of brown, toasty, a little crisper than the hot savory goo running inside of it. kavinsky sets down the spatula to retrieve the plate, glancing up at reggie.

up at reggie. this one is a lot taller, which hadn't been obvious when the boy had been lying down.]

If you want me to go to your party, I'll go, [he says.] You have fun? Feel at home?

[bragnificent]

Setting a real high standard for yourself there, huh? But congrats, I guess.

[ Not that Reggie's always the most enlightened person himself -- not by a long shot -- but hating on ladies at least isn't a problem he considers himself to have. Subjective as self-awareness in teenage boys can be.

What Kavinsky's cooking does smell good, though, and Reggie finds himself walking a couple steps closer. He's not really used to waking up to the smell of breakfast being made, he usually has to fend for himself in the mornings. And for dinner too. ]

Hell no, why would I need to feel at home? [ Which is more how he's choosing to interpret the question rather than what the question actually asked. ] It was pretty fun, yeah. Wouldn't have minded getting a little more action, but I can't complain too much. Drop by next time if you want, just don't go burning any crosses in our yard.

[ Reggie wets his lips thoughtfully, putting his hands on his hips and looking Kavinsky over slowly, reaching his eyes eventually. He holds eye contact for a couple of seconds, then shrugs. ]

So what is this?

[ Translated: "What are we?" ... Were? Whatever. ]

[pillz]

[kavinsky doesn't turn around. this feels easy, the most of all because reggie seems somewhat perturbed and he's a dick. making people uncomfortable is just home to him, even though lately, he's been in chilton's charm school for lost boys too. multidisciplinary class, okay?] Back home we call it 'breakfast,' [he says. the egg finishes bubbling, and when he flips it, the omelette is a pretty shade of brown on one side.

perfect. he plates it, digs silverware out of some predictable place, and moves over to set everything up on the table. it could be more elaborate, probably, but he already met the creep quota half an hour ago sitting at reggie's bedside. all creeps know to quit while they're ahead.]

Guess we were 'friends with benefits.' I don't know what we are now. [he places himself in one seat, then pushes the pushes the one by the plate out with his foot. gestures at reggie to help himself.] I went into rehab after fucking over a few hundred people with my powers, and there's a lot of stuff I don't do anymore. And you're Asian. [his eyebrows hook upward.]

[bragnificent]

[ 'Friends with benefits' is somewhat of a relief to hear, because that's easier for Reggie to deal with-- both in this case and in general. Dating is complicated enough without having to think that he might've had a boyfriend. A skinny criminal boyfriend, no less.

Reggie follows Kavinsky to the table, taking a seat. ]

You don't do Asians? Your loss, bro.

[ He pokes the omelette with his fork experimentally, although he'll wait for Kavinsky to take any first bites before he starts eating. Reggie might not be easily offended when it comes to vulgarity or racism -- he can be pretty crude himself, and fairly accustomed to seamlessly tuning out microaggressions -- but Kavinsky has definitely proven himself to be worth paying attention to by now.

Just enough to be cautious, because otherwise Reggie rarely tends to worry about other people's capacity to be dangerous or do him harm; that gives them too much power. So far he finds Kavinsky unsettling and annoying, yet funny, more than he finds him scary. ]

No shit, a few hundred? [ Speaking of paying attention, because Reggie's actually interested to hear this. ] What'd you do, poison the water supply? Burn down a building?

[pillz]

Nah, I do Asians. [it's a function of improved empathy, that kavinsky can tell why reggie is waiting on the omelette. there's a lot of stories about the risks of teaching empathy to assholes; it isn't always utilized how you'd like. but it's pretty innocuous right now, he just leans across the table, pulls off a piece of omelette with his tattooed fingers. (the ink says: dream thief, across the long bones of each digit, all ten.)] Theoretically. I just don't do fuckbuddies, and I don't know you-- 'cause changes. Including the raceboot.

[a beat.] I used to write fanfiction, [by way of explanation, as to why he knows a little bit of the ~terminology~.

he stuffs the ripped-free bit of egg-plus-goodies into his mouth, chews on it. leans back in his seat, looking comfortable and relaxed and hilariously domestic, all things considered. he doesn't talk until his mouth is clear.] No. I made a nightmare Hellscape. Mostly I was trying to get back at this one guuy, but a couple hundred people got sucked into it. [--it was more deliberate than that, but most truths benefit from embellishment.]