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

[d33tached]

[If you're good at what you do, D33 can't help but think, you can get away with murder pretty much whenever you want.

[But, of course, he doesn't say so. Just cocks a brow at Peter.]

You certainly act as though you are.

Am I mistaken, then?

[quickfingers]

Wow, rude. [He's not offended, in fact he's laughing - he's definitely heard that before.]

I'll have you know I'm twenty seven. Very legal, despite this youthful visage.

[d33tached]

[Twenty-seven? D33's not even drunk yet, but the look on his face is probably priceless. He never would have expected that.

[This child is older than he is?]

I see.

My apologies, then.

[He looks a bit...suspicious still, though.]

You mean that truly?

[quickfingers]

Why would I lie? I'm a full fledged adult - how old are you?

Two can play this game.

[d33tached]

[Boy, does D33 ever hate this question.]

I'm a full-fledged adult.

[Said in the flattest voice possible. If he doesn't know his birthday, then how would he know how old he is, Peter?]

[quickfingers]

[Peter rolls his eyes but alright, decent counter.]

I don't know why people are always so shocked, like. How old did you think I was? I would've thought the gray hair would be working against me here but maybe it's what makes me look young by contrast.

[d33tached]

Considering your behavior, I might have thought you were a teenager at the least. You do appear to emulate their qualities, especially given those in this world.

[Teenagers in his world, after all, tended to be trained assassins.]

[quickfingers]

[D33 is totally calling him immature and it just makes Peter's day?]

Sorry I don't act like I'm forty, like you do.

[d33tached]

Do I act like I'm forty? [He raises his eyebrows, takes another sip of this drink (which is definitely starting to make his head swim, by the way - lightweight).]

Well, then I suppose forty-year-olds must act with some level of dignity, then.

[Jesus, get a load of this douche.]

[quickfingers]

Mmm, but they're also boring, Dee. [Peter goes tsk, tsk.]

It's okay though. It's your thing. The solemn, moody thing.

[d33tached]

Moody? [He says, being moody again. Then, irritation clear in his voice:] It's D-thirty-three.

[Pause.]

Do you find me boring, Peter?

[Somehow, it's...never occurred to him before. It's not as though he makes any attempt to be entertaining - why make a spectacle of yourself, he thinks - but he doesn't necessarily consider himself boring. His life before had certainly been boring at times - tedious, repetitive, monotonous. But it's not like that was his fault.]

[quickfingers]

I didn't exactly say that. [Only implied it.]

But you're... reserved, shall we say? Like the whole D-thirty-three [enunciating right back at you] thing, it's a cute quirk but c'mon, have some fun. Let us call you Dee. Loosen up. Put on a feather boa and have a good time. What's there to lose?

[...] Will you wear a feather boa, D-thirty-three?

[d33tached]

It is not my concern whether or not my moniker appears cute to you--

[Wait a minute.]

A what?

[quickfingers]

[Peter puts up one finger to signal D33 to give him a moment, turning away to briefly disappear a few feet away and return with a fluffy black and orange boa in his hands. He surveys D33 for a moment to really gauge the threat level before slowly holding on to the ends and trying to loop it back over his head.]

It's dashing.

[d33tached]

Abso--

Absolutely not.

[He is not about to let you put that thing over his shoulders, Peter, and he is not above punching a full-fledged adult in the face.]

Get that thing away from me.

[He says it like it's an actual boa or something.]

[quickfingers]

C'mon, maaaan... [Peter still tries but in a 'please don't punch me' type of way, where he's keeping a little bit of distance because he's too tipsy to dodge anything faster than a drawn out sigh.]

I think it's cool. You're boring if you don't. Are you boring? Don't be boring!

[d33tached]

I would much rather be boring than be made a fool of.

[He sounds just a little wounded (just a little) as he says this, taking a step away from Peter.]

I've worn black as you instructed. I agreed to nothing else.

[quickfingers]

[Peter rolls his eyes, looping the boa around his own neck, winding it a few times tucking an uneven end into his suit jacket. It's itchy and uncomfortable but he feels he has to wear it now, if only long enough to make a point.]

I was going to ask 'do I look like a fool' but you'll probably say yes. But guess what? I'm drunk and I don't mind being one. That's because it's part of the fun.

[d33tached]

Yes, well.

[D33 stops there. Funny how he doesn't really have anything to say to that, isn't it? He'll blame it on the alcohol, but the truth of the matter is, D33's concept of fun is so weak, that he doesn't really have any room to argue what Peter's said - and he knows it. He would never admit that, of course - a fool is a fool and he's intent not to be made one. Let this foolish man make a spectacle of himself if he wants, D33 thinks (plenty bitterly).]

I suppose I will leave you to it, then.

[quickfingers]

Rouuuugh, but alright. I'll still see you again, this house is big but it ain't that big. [And Peter is already making plans to come back and get this boa on you at least once tonight, no matter what it takes to do it.]