october: free for all | ❝ lurking in the shadows ❞

[quickfingers]

WHO: EVERYONE? Anyone. (And Peter.)
WHERE: X-Fam House, Nonah.
WHEN: Friday the 13th!
WHAT: Giant ass Halloween party. On Friday the 13th. YOU ARE ALL INVITED.
WARNINGS: tbd, probably some disaster.
NOTES: So this party's invites are pretty scattered so if you have CR with Peter, you can feel free to assume you've been invited (if he hasn't literally ic inboxed you) or found an invite/ heard about the party from anyone else and are still welcome to have fun! Feel free to plurk me (valleyheart) if you have questions but aside from Peter's top level, it's free game to do what you want!



The Invitations

[If you're a friend of Peter you might've been invited personally, but even so you might find one of these bad boys slipped your way, in your mail or taped to the inside of your next pizza order leading up to the 13th. On the back of the invitation is a hand scrawled address in Nonah, the home of Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr - if you're familiar, you're familiar. If not, doesn't matter, 'cause it's Peter's disastrous party about to go down and you're still welcome.]

The House

[The party takes place at the "X-Fam" house in Nonah, which some of you may remember hosted a bbq not too long ago. Yeah, the place where Erik and Charles live - not that this party's sponsored by them in any shape, way or form. In fact it's more of a "while the cat's away, the mice will play" type scenario because asking permission to hold a killer party is not something Peter did.

He was responsible enough however to use caution tape to cross off the doors of the bedrooms in the house, preserving the privacy of his housemates to a degree. The other rooms aren't off limits and neither is the backyard, all of which are decorated festively for the occasion. Cobwebs litter corners and hallways, weaving through the banister rails complete with fake spiders nestled in them. The curtains are somber, as a variety of stick on decals are covering windows and mirrors alike. Decorations sit on mantles and door frames, with each window sill featuring a lit candle or something equally spooky.

The backyard is lit by dim orange lights, featuring seating and open night air for those who wish to get out of a hot, loud house and admire the stars. Just mind the witch legs and don't litter cigarette butts everywhere, alright?

The door's open and a variety of tunes are playing, audible from the street.]

The Party

[So you were invited (or not,) and you found your way to the right house. The lights are dimmed and the music's loud, so come in and get a drink from the fridge or the creative yet nerdy 'keg'. Peter's no Martha Stewart nor is Wanda really in a mood to make a lot of cute treats so you'll have to put up with standard party fair: potato chips, pretzels, a huge stack of pizzas and a few large bowls of candy corn. That shit is everywhere, there's no escaping it. You need ice? Just don't choke on the critters.

Rooms not cordoned off are yours to wander and get wasted in, same with the stretch of grass in the back yard. Wander with your goblets of definitely spiked punch and a handful of candy corn. Because if you're not eating it then you suck.

At some point there will be a cake pulled out because Peter's drowning in sisters and Lorna's birthday is this month. Clearly the thing to do is to (monster) mash it in to the Halloween celebrations with a creepy cake. Say a spooky happy birthday to the girl with green hair when you get the chance.]

Comments

[fehus]

[it is completely absurd, and he feels faintly like Sam, oggling Amir's forearms at Fadlan's Falafel (which yes he caught her doing and yes has gently ribbed her about), but he full-on oggles those revealed legs. he wonders if Alex shaves them or just elects not to grow hair, when she wants to have smooth, long legs like a vampiric goddess. he drags his eyes up belatedly, just as Alex eases back into him, and it takes him another few moments to find his tongue in his mouth (gods, he's going to be going awoooga! like a cartoon lech, next)]

[after clearing his throat;]

We could stick to instructional dances white people do at weddings. The Macarena. Line dancing. The Electric Slide. The non-Chase Cha Cha Slide. The Chicken Dance.

[it is even more absurd, but after the words "the Chicken Dance" leave his mouth, he leans up to kiss her again, one of his hands navigating up from her waist and into her hair, grown long and black for the occasion. he prefers it green and some degree of fluffy under his palm, but frankly, those red lips are the main event, not her on-point Morticia hair. he wants to feel her melt against him, again, like before. when they break off, long moments later, Magnus mumbles]

Or we could, could keep working on this.

[kiss-dancing, which is maybe couple's dancing??? unsure, needs more kissing/research]