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Post by Sylvia Main on Dec 25, 2011 0:47:13 GMT -5
*I look down at her and smirk.* This will be fun. *I glance around and frown before quietly adding,* Maybe... *I push her over to the tables that line the borders of the room, leaving the middle space wide open for movement. I find an empty table and let her sit there while I go find a waiter with some wine. I quickly grab a few glasses, handing one to Red despite her being underage.* You get one and only one. *I try to ignore her reaction, unless she takes offense to me laughing at her. I watch people move about, conversing like business people. Despite the music it's still very Better Living, completely numb and void of emotions. I scowl and quickly down my glass of chardonnay.*
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Post by Jonathon Orwell on Dec 25, 2011 0:50:48 GMT -5
*I glance up at him and smirk.* Take your pills Riley, you are as tense as strung up bow. *I toss him the white wrapped gift [inside: 25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lk8v7t2eiP1qz5248o1_r1_250.jpg] and begin walking towards Aerith's office before he can open it. I knock on her door and call out,* Miss Lin, I believe it is time to grace the party with your presence!
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Post by rileywilson on Dec 25, 2011 3:25:32 GMT -5
*I follow Orwell, slightly dumbfounded* Wait, a gift, like per-helium war style? I... I did't get you anything *I wait with Orwell outside Aerith's door. This whole holiday thing is throwing me off my game. I'm not used to everyone being so... pleasant*
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Post by Volume Virus on Dec 25, 2011 15:54:03 GMT -5
*The party is in full swing around me. Classical music is playing (the song that's on right now is a waltz, although I'm not sure how I knew that, much less how I was able to realize it after the first few notes) and people are walking around with trays full of refreshments. I take a thin glass full of what looks like water from one of them. Once I take a sip, I almost spit the liquid out, realizing too late that it's some kind of alcohol. The server laughs and waves another man with a tray over. They both assure me the second tray carries water, and I gratefully down a glass, putting the liquor glass back onto the first. Both men laugh and walk away. Of course they do. I berate myself as I walk slowly over to the dance floor, on which no one is dancing.
((It's funny because I actually did that at a wedding once. Pleh. -___-))
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Post by Volume Virus on Dec 25, 2011 18:01:56 GMT -5
Hmm? *Morand's words trigger a reaction of confusion. I look around and realize that I've wandered onto the actual dance floor. I thought that there were fewer people around me...* Oh. I'm neither, really. Just not paying attention. I'm sorry. *I take two small steps backwards, retreating to the crowd, where I won't stick out nearly as awkwardly.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Dec 25, 2011 18:37:08 GMT -5
Ah, no, thank you. I'd rather not. I don't think it's a particularly good idea to be drunk in front of my superiors. I don't know if they would call me out on it or not.... If you want to, though, I'm not going to stop you. *I'm not sure whether or not I just gave the right answer. But I never really liked alcohol anyway...wait, "never liked" it? I've never HAD it! What is wrong with me today?!*
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Post by Max Griffiths on Dec 25, 2011 19:16:53 GMT -5
*I glance over when Morand addresses me, and raise my nearly empty glass slightly* Already had one. *The music changes to something equally tasteless as before and I sigh* Pointless, all of it.
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Post by redhavoc on Dec 25, 2011 19:26:22 GMT -5
*I try the alcohol, grimacing a little with aftertaste, and set it down carefully. A waiter brings around a plate of hors d'oeuvres. Sylvia takes one I quickly grab four, realizing suddenly that I am starving. The waiter pauses, looking at me, and then sets the entire plate down on the table, smiling at me before he leaves. I feel my face redden a little. Guess I must look pretty hungry. Sylvia smiles at me and we watch some people pair up and dance to the waltz music. They are actually quite good and I wonder where they learned. Perhaps before the wars...*
*I see Angie over to one side, backing away from someone. She looks rather flustered...Max and Morand are talking not far away. They look over for a second and I quickly look away*
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Post by Max Griffiths on Dec 25, 2011 19:28:09 GMT -5
I suppose you're right. *Another server passes by us and I set set my glass on his tray and take another* Who? *I realize he means the girl and shrug* I didn't particularly notice. Hadn't seen her out of the hospital until just now. Why?
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Post by Max Griffiths on Dec 25, 2011 19:43:41 GMT -5
*I frown* I aided a colleague during a dangerous mission. What of it?
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Post by Max Griffiths on Dec 25, 2011 19:56:02 GMT -5
Her partner was not in sight and it was obvious she was overwhelmed. *I don't like his tone of voice, and though it occurs to me that the alcohol isn't improving my temper, I don't set my glass down* She's nothing special. I would have stepped in if it was any other agent as well.
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Post by Max Griffiths on Dec 25, 2011 20:11:04 GMT -5
I remember helping an injured girl while her partner was occupied. Nothing more. *I take another sip of my drink, trying to calm down. This shouldn't bother me as much as it is; Morand is obviously just trying to make trouble*
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Post by Sylvia Main on Dec 25, 2011 20:18:05 GMT -5
*I take a bite of the food and scrunch my face up in disgust. I may eat the occasional power pup but this completely void of taste. I toss it back onto the platter and finish my drink. Red seems happy enough but I'm bored out of my mind. I see a bar in the corner and smirk. A drunk killj- neutral at a BLI party. That should be interesting. Maybe I'll start a fight.* I'll be back in a moment. *I quickly get up and leave Red to find the hardest liquor I can, only with the hopes of forgetting this miserable party.*
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Post by Max Griffiths on Dec 25, 2011 20:26:53 GMT -5
*I start to answer, and then realize I'm not sure* Why do you care?
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Post by redhavoc on Dec 25, 2011 20:41:09 GMT -5
*I get nervous as Morand keeps gesturing to me. Max looks over as well and I try to duck, almost knocking over the wheelchair. Sylvia gets up and goes over to the bar. I eye my own drink suspiciously before eating more of the appetizers. I feel better already. I look around for Wilson or Orwell, but don't see either yet and breath a little easier. As the music picks up tempo I idly move my feet from the wheelchair to the ground, testing my legs*
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