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I Know What My Fortune Is; It's partying. (Junko's Anti-SH Party)
Topic Started: Mar 5 2016, 12:53 AM (3,243 Views)
frogue
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just a picture of a cloud
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Johnny gave Darius a nod as the older boy zig-zagged his way over. Johnny raised a hand to catch him, as it looked for a minute as if Darius was about to stumble forward on top of him. Instead he just stood in front of Johnny, swaying slightly, smelling like a distillery and impugning Johnny's character.

Whatever, it wasn't like he wasn't used to it. You didn't grow up in a trailer park as a stranger to people thinking you were a larcenous piece of shit, and people seemed to have a worse opinion of Johnny than most. It was his face, he decided. His rabid-squirrel expression had not, from Johnny's experience, inspired a whole lot of confidence in his character.

He couldn't quite take the moral high-ground of course, given that he was a thief, and most likely would steal something from this trash-fire of a party. Still Darius, didn't know that, or even have cause to think it, and Johnny couldn't help but bristle in indignation at the perceive injustice.

Still, he dutifully fished the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and proffered it to Darius.

He hadn't even known the older boy had smoked. Darius had always seemed like kind of a nerd. Big into video games, the internet, that kind of thing. Indoor pursuits. Johnny didn't much care for the indoors. It made him feel surrounded, and he didn't like that so much. It was nicer to be in natural spaces, he thought. There was something about being outdoors, away from all that artificial stuff that he could really get behind.

He liked the feeling of being in the same place, looking at the same mountains that someone might have looked at 5,000 years ago. Back then, people didn't have career trajectories. They didn't have to worry about self actualizing or whatever. They got their sister pregnant at twelve, and then they farmed corn and tried not to get eaten by mountain lions until they died from consumption at thirty-five. If they'd've seen Johnny's life, they'd've thought he was doing pretty well for himself.

Johnny Ray McKay was, he concluded, a man born t0o late.

He met Darius' bleary eyes.

"Hey, you mind menthol?"

Menthols were what Johnny'd started smoking, and he'd stuck with them. The pack he had with him were Kools. He preferred the new Camels, which had menthol in the tobacco and a menthol capsule in the filter so the end result was doubly minty, but there were something like four different varieties of those camels, and whichever older kid he got to buy them for him inevitably bought the wrong one. Kools only had the one variety, as far as Johnny knew, and they weren't half bad, so all in all they were a safer bet.

It took more than a few beers to get Johnny smoking a non-menthol.They simply tasted... wrong, to him. Even his spliffs he rolled with menthol tobacco, and why not? It was, as he had rationalized to people many a time, like getting a free mint with your cigarette. Who in their right mind would turn down a free mint?

Still, there was some bullshit issue of race about them, because of course there was, it was Arizona. Johnny's uncle Toby had cuffed him round the ears when he'd caught him smoking them once - not for smoking in and of itself, but for smoking Kools, specifically. "Niggarettes" Toby had called them, which Johnny had found almost laughably ridiculous, considering the man had been wearing an Emmitt Smith jersey at the time. Toby was a big man though, and when he'd had a couple of drinks in him, like he'd had then, he could get mean, so Johnny'd said nothing, just given a shrug as if to say that he didn't really care, that a smoke was a smoke, and Toby had laughed and taken one.

It was always good to let people take your cigarettes, Johnny had found. Others might've said good karma, but Johnny didn't believe in that. He didn't believe in any of that Eastern shit, or in luck, or fate, or destiny by any other name. He believed in Jesus Christ in some vague and ill considered way, that didn't translate into attending worship or modifying his behavior in any fashion, but that was as far as Johnny's beliefs went. He just shared his cigarettes because it seemed right, and didn't think much on it beyond that.

Had Johnny thought about it however, he would certainly concluded that had He smoked, the Lord Jesus would almost definitely have shared His cigarettes. It was the Christian thing to do.
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ToxieTheToxicAvenger
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Jonathan had found himself cringing when Michael started laughing at the ordeal. It could've been bad, and here he was laughing at it? Oh well, it could have been worse, and Michael DID help him out when he needed it. There wasn't anything else they could have done, it was just good in general that the situation didn't get worse. Darius was off 'Showing his little Dee?' Jonathan had to raise an eyebrow and hide a smirk on that one. That one was so bad it was kinda funny.

"Michael stop..." Jonathan found himself shaking his head and covering his mouth. Michael's laugh was contagious, and he really didn't want to look that insensitive in front of Raina- wait where was she? Oh, Wayne and her were going somewhere... At least Darius was in the opposite direction, maybe they'd leave each other alone now?

Oh hey, more people! Maria and Johnny Ray were joining the party it looks like. The party will definitely be a lot more lively now! At least Drunk Darius won't be the focus anymore. Was Johnny giving him bad looks? Nah, probably his imagination. Jonathan waved to the two new arrivals as Darius came back to the scene.

Of course, Darius decided to be Darius and... call Johnny Ray a thief whilst simultaneously claiming the party as his own. Jonathan turned to Michael.

"Pardon my French, but Darius really is shitfaced, isn't he?"

_ _ _ _ _ _ _


Michael's laughing finally slowed. "Sorry Jon." Ironically, this apology was a bit more sincere than the earlier one. Michael rubbed his eyes for a moment. Damn that was a good laugh, he was on the border of tears from that. Jonathan was right though, Michael's play on words fucking ate shit. Nobody else but him was laughing. He'd have to remind himself not to use that one anymore.

At this point, Darius and Raina were now avoiding each other, so while a good portion of the shits and giggles left, so did the drama. A bit of a double edged sword, but the side facing Michael was significantly smaller than the opposite side; so it was tolerable.

Two new peeps joined the party. O.D Dodger Maria, and Meth Mouth Mckay. Well the party certainly was going to get more lively at this point. Michael called out to the two. " 'Ey Maria! 'Ey Jay Ray!"

Darius came back and called our new hillbilly guest a thief. Welp, Darius totally didn't learn from anything that happened in the last fifteen seconds. Hell, he even had the audacity to ask for a cigarette afterwords to- oh damn! Johnny Ray gave him one! Eh, didn't surprise him. Jay Ray had thicker skin than most kids here, Michael doubted Darius would get to him.

Michael found himself laughing at Jonathan's comment. "No doubt about it, man..."
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Junko had sat back down, but a few seconds later she felt a hand on her shoulder. At first, she thought it was Darius, back to terrorize once more. Junko turned her head, and-

Nope, it was a completely and utterly pissed off Maria Cuccinotta, and… Junko didn’t invite her? Really? She invited tons of people who would be interested in going to a bonfire instead of the space dance ugly woman race thing. Let’s see… she knew Haley expressed interest. Cris, too, actually. Maybe if he’d show up, Junko could put him on “Darius Wrangling Duty.” Didn’t he have an on-off thing with Raina nowadays? She doubted that even if they were in the “off” stage, he’d appreciate him hugging her while singing. No, scratch that, singing in a language that Junko was sure Darius couldn’t actually speak. Anyways, how did Maria not get invited?

“What are you talking about? I remember sending people messages about it”, Junko said, frowning.

Maybe it got eaten somehow? Or maybe she’d genuinely forgotten. Wouldn’t be the first time, really. For either. Junko’s brain sometimes couldn’t take too many things at once, and sometimes robots decide to rebel by losing shit. She guessed Maria found out through word of mouth instead, and that’s how she managed to show up. That was good. It’d suck if someone missed out because of the host’s faulty memory or faulty technology.

Before Junko could deal with Maria any further, Johnny showed up. Junko was cool with him, though he had a reputation. It was known by pretty much everyone that Johnny had a talent for things suddenly disappearing whenever he went to parties. She’d have to keep an eye on him. Maybe Fiyori, too. There wasn’t too much they could steal that would be that bad, except maybe the skewers? Well, she had her phone and a small bag of weed on her, but they’d have to reach into her pocket or something. Maybe there was something huge she was missing, but you know. Maybe she could do a quick pat-down before they left? No idea.

Junko nodded towards Johnny. A second later, she heard someone introduce Maria and Johnny to “his” party. She didn’t even have to turn her head to know that Darius had come back. Wow. How drunk do you have to be to think that you were hosting someone else’s party? Did they have to kill each other for the title of “host” like Game of Thrones? Did they do that in that show? She’d never watched it. All she knew was that there was a lot of murder and rape and plotting and incest, based off how people describe it to her. You know, all the fun things royalty does to each other. Oh, and there was something called a “Red Wedding” that her Facebook feed was freaking out about. Apparently a bunch of people got stabbed? Anyways!

As Johnny gave Darius a cig, Junko put a grin back on.

“As you can see… we’ve got some pretty good entertainment this evening. You just missed the part where he sung a bunch of things and tried to hug Raina.”
RICHARDS/BAINES OTP!

Coming to a V7 near you.
Bree Jones- "I'm not exaggerating when I say that my fish are smarter."
Roxanne "Roxie" Borowski- "Next video? Oh man, tons of ideas, dude. Lemme get the makeup for that."

In Loving Memory

Kami's Promise for v6 (doing this again)


Let's show that private threads aren't necessary! I pledge not to start any private threads on island in V6. If I started a thread, you are welcome to join it.
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Iceblock
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Wayne simply shrugged.

He wasn't certain of what he expected to come next. He'd been thinking in short term plans. Getting Raina and Darius apart. Calming down the party a bit. Doing something instead of nothing of worth. Done, done, and done, though his contribution on all three counts had been mediocre at best. He had barely noticed the two new arrivals as he and Raina left.

Now that the two of them were out here, away from the main event, the silence stretching... he was unsure. Give him a basketball, give him a game controller, give him a pixelated rifle in a numbers war. Give him something to do, and he could lose himself in it. Even bonding with others happened just like that; doing things together built trust and familiarity. This was different. He wasn't uncomfortable holding up his end of conversations, but he never truly knew where they led or where they were meant to go. She could start ranting about Darius - she could refuse to speak about Darius at all. Wayne didn't know.

He moved towards the bench, his eyes on Raina. He'd done this for his own benefit at first, to keep from doing nothing, but now he supposed he was out here for hers, too. He didn't feel it right to be the one to break the silence.
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Johnny gave him a cig. Johnny was good. Be like Johnny.

"Sure, sure. Menthol, ethanol, methanol. I'll take it all."

Dariush took one cig and digged into his pocket to pull out a lighter. Trying to ignite the cig, he covered it with his hand so no wind would blow out the fire. But, he shall not burn his fingers. He needed his fingers, damnit. They were his golden tool. In gaming, in drawing, in writing exams. His claws are holy. But, luckily, everything was fine and he could put his lighter back to his pocket and the minty cig into his mouth.

Darius turned his back to Johnny to watch Maria and Junko gossiping about him. False information, mostly. He needed to comment on it, point out the lies.

"A) I did not try, I succeeded and B) my singin' was wonderful. I can sing again, will sing again. Jesus, Junko, have I not told you, when I invited you here, that you should bring a guitar? Campfires without guitars suck."

And with that he bend, to take a beer and open it.
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Raina plopped down onto the bench next to Wayne, heaving a sigh as she did so. Wayne didn't say anything so she didn't either, instead looking out at the park anywhere except back towards the bonfire, kicking her feet idly in the dirt.

The silence between them wasn't exactly comfortable, they didn't know each other well enough for it to be. The circumstances that had sent them trekking out this way away from the party didn't help, of course. She'd decided to come for the drinks and the food and the companionship, and what did she have? None of those things. Booze-stink on her clothes and a lingering crawling feeling on her skin from Darius's unwanted hug. Ever more reason to back up her disbelief whenever someone tried to tell her what a great time she would miss out on because she went home and went to bed early instead of going out to party.

Raina sighed again and leaned back on the bench, craning her neck back to look up at the sky. Not too much to see, honestly, it was kind of a cloudy night and Kingman was bright for a little town. The other park would have been better for stargazing.

Finally, the itch to break the silence grew too strong. "Guess Sadie Hawkins isn't looking so bad now, huh?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Iceblock
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"Yeah," Wayne said, then halfheartedly parroted something she'd said earlier. "Not living up to expectations all around."

So they were going back to talking about Sadies. Some sort of common ground. Raina was making it obvious she wasn't enjoying herself, but what was he to do but nod and agree? Perhaps someone better suited for this would have known. Someone who would have made this situation something other than two strangers sitting on a bench.

He glanced over at her, then followed her gaze upwards.

The truth be told, he doubted Sadies would have been any better for him. On Raina's part, he could see it. She'd probably have gone with a purpose in mind, and maybe she would have had a better time of it there than here with Darius and burnt hotdogs and spilled beer.

"What sort of thing were you looking for tonight, anyway?"
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frogue
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"Succeeding in hugging someone ain't exactly a triumph, Darius. It ain't exactly the fucking Olympics, yeah? The retarded neighbour kid goes round hugging shit non stop. Nothing against her or anything, but it's maybe not something to be bragging about, yeah?"

Johnny cracked open one of what were apparently Darius' beers and handed it to the boy, to keep things cordial. There was another on the ground a couple of feet away, and Johnny opened it for himself, then took it a swig. It'd been too close to the fire, for too long, and the beer was the temperature of dishwater.

"No offense intended, of course. I'm sure your hugging is just magnificent."

Darius was right about one thing though, and that was how much nicer a guitar would have made the proceedings. Johnny didn't play himself, but he listened to plenty of acoustic music. He couldn't imagine his tastes and Darius' overlapped much, but then people could surprise you, he supposed, and even if Darius played exactly the sort of poppy shit that Johnny was pretty sure he would, music of any sort brought people closer together.

Johnny put down the beer, twisting the base of the can against the dirt to burrow it in, and make sure it didn't fall over. He pulled a battered paperback - Agatha Christie's Cat Among the Pigeons- from the waistband of his jeans, and placed it on his lap. Johnny had a fondness for mysteries. He didn't read them so much, he wasn't a big reader, but he'd seen his share on TV, and he liked how they went. This one was extra mysterious, since all of the pages were glued together, and hole the size of a pack of cards, and about half as thick, had been carved out of the middle. Johnny took his weed and his papers out of the hole and began to roll.

Had he been more organized Johnny would have rolled in advance, but coming here was something of a spur of a moment decision. Still, Johnny wasn't worried about being seen doing this. Nobody was watching who would care, and even if they did, what would happen? It wasn't like he had a reputation to protect. Shit, the fact that it was just weed he was smoking might even raise him up, in their estimation.

He tore a strip of card from his papers, roughly 3 inches long and an inch wide. Johnny made a little "s" shape at the end of it, then rolled the rest around it and around it, until he had a tight cylinder. He licked one his papers and wrapped it around the roach to hold it in place, then tore off all the paper that overlapped.

Next he took out two more papers. He folded one in half lengthwise, then smoothed it out against the book. The other he licked, and attached to the narrow end of the first so that they formed an "L" shape, with the base of the L protruding off the sticky side of the paper. He placed the roach in the other end, at the top of the L, and then opened the bag of weed and sprinkled it along the crease in the paper.

The weed was pre-ground, because fuck carrying a grinder round, right?

Johnny tore the end off of one of his cigarettes and then pulled off some minty tobacco, about a third the length of the cigarette. He placed this into the spliff as well, layering it on top of the weed. Once he was satisfied with how the ingredients were distributed, Johnny picked it up by the ends and began to rub his thumbs and forefingers against each other - like the gesture for "money" - up and down the length of the spliff, until everything inside was nicely rolled.

He licked along the top of the paper, where you're meant to, and then rolled it together. The base of the L he wrapped around and around on itself, and then twisted it together to form an enclosed end. The result wasn't pretty. Johnny's spliffs were loose and ugly, they always had been. He'd seen other kids around the park roll spliffs you couldn't distinguish from cigarettes at a distance, and roll them without using a surface to work on, either; roll them while walking even. He'd thought he'd be that good eventually, but Johnny's never seemed to improve.

Well, they were just as effective.

Someone called out to Johnny. He couldn't tell who, but he thought it might've been one of the queers, as he was almost certain there was a definite lilt to the voice. He pretended not to have heard them, whoever they were. Instead he took a final paper and wrapped it tightly around the outside of his spliff, before sealing it on. The extra paper meant the outside burned a little faster, but having it tighter was worth it: it was that much easier to smoke, and considerably less likely to fall apart.

Johnny dusted the scraps of weed and tobacco that littered the front of the book into the bag of weed, then placed that and the papers back inside the book.

Finished, he lifted up his handiwork and gave it an appraising eye. It wasn't too bad, not too bad at all.

Junko was looking at him, he noticed, and he raised an eyebrow and gave her a grin, baring his appalling teeth.

"Yeah?"

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"I dunno," Raina said in response to Wayne's question. "Fun, I guess. I don't get to do this stuff normally, so I was kind of expecting it to be worth it when I finally got to go out and party." Maybe a different time and place, with a more discerning guest list would have worked out better. Maybe it just wasn't her destiny to have a wild teen party, given that she hated most of the things that went along with those, like people carelessly trashing the place and sloppy drunks and Darius showing up.

She felt kind of bad for being such a downer when Wayne had wanted to just get away from it all just like she had. She wasn't sure how to make it up to him; just telling him to go back and enjoy himself didn't seem likely to work, and she didn't actually want him to leave her sitting on the park bench all by herself. She didn't know how much longer either of them intended to stick around.

Actually...

Raina sat up straight and looked over at Wayne. "Do you have a car? Or like, any transportation?" A motorcycle would be cool, actually. Hell, she'd deal with trying to balance on a bike right now. She had an idea.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Iceblock
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Any attempt of his at finding anything of significance in the night sky was interrupted by Raina's response and the shifting of weight on the bench.

Wayne shot her a questioning look.

"Sure," he said. "Did you walk here or something?"

His car wasn't a topic that came up often. Most of the time, it wasn't his at all - just a bucket of bolts that Eve complained about whenever she drove it home from work. It had problems going up hills, but it was a necessity, it worked about as well as could be expected for the price that his family had gotten it for, and it was comfortable. After a few years of her using it, the inside did sort of smell like Eve, but that was something else entirely.

It wasn't the kind of car that he could have ever used to pick up girls. But he supposed it could drop them off.

He made to stand, a quiet creak coming from the bench as he did so.

"Guess it doesn't really matter. I can give you a ride if you want."
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"My mom dropped me off near the park entrance." How she'd gotten here wasn't important right now, though. Raina stood and grabbed Wayne by the arm, pulling him back down the path. She thought about veering back towards the bonfire, but she decided against it. She didn't want to draw everyone's attention back to her, right now, and she knew what kind of comments and rumors there would be if people saw them leaving together.

Raina half-dragged Wayne to the parking lot and waited for him to pick out his car. "I just want to get out of here."

She grinned at him in what she hoped was an intriguing, encouraging way. "Let's go on an adventure."

((Raina Rose continued elsewhere))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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Well, he was being dragged. That was something he hadn't expected.

Raina was just using him for his car, wasn't she? The thought came to him, sarcastic, hiding any real concern away to be forgotten. Still, even if it was true - even if he believed it was true - he didn't mind.

Adventure, she'd said. It was a different frame of mind than he was used to. They weren't running away from the party, from Darius or whatever else. That wasn't the focus. She knew where she was heading next. She knew what she wanted. He could appreciate that.

But maybe he was just projecting.

Wayne gave her a brief smile back, and began walking towards his car.

Adventure it was, then.

((Wayne Cox continued in Manic Pixie Dream Girl))
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((Aiden Slattery continued from Tiny Vessels))

Well, there he was already. Almost disappointing, thought it'd take him an ittie bittie longer to jog over from Sadies all the way to here, more than fifteen minutes in any case. Like, wasn't too late for him to turn away, run around a couple blocks, then come right back. Had tasted blood, so he did; going for a midnight walk once, there was no way he wouldn't want to keep his blood pumpin' some more. But - nah, he was here now, late enough already, no more stallin'.

Aiden slowed down his pace from jogging tempo to normal pedestrian speed - normal for him ,that was, so more like pedestrian-high-on-coffee-speed. He had already spotted the lights from far away, flickering and stuff, looked like they had set up a campfire. Nice. Always made him feel like he was some snotfaced kiddie again, out on a camping trip like back then with his folks. Plus, it'd keep him nice and warm, what with his 'dress' being a lil' scimpy and shit, so that was a plus.

Trotting towards the source of light and chattin' and chirpin', he noticed a few familiar faces hanging around the compound. Spotted two peeps dragging their asses to the parking lot in the distance, looked like a chick and a dude, couldn't make out who they were though, too dark and all. Yeah, 'make out' was prolly the keyword here. Live fast, love hard, die young, they didn't say that for no reason.

Looking over to the now very visible fire, he made out some more cabronies. One of them was Michael, yeah, no way that magnificent head o' hair belonged to a dude other than him. Busy talkin' to some other guy apparently, good for him.

Hey hey, looked like Fi was there as well, almost didn't see her in the dark. Like, not even tryin' to sound racist, he almost legitimately didn't notice her lanky ass over there. Nice to see her being around though, he kinda even called her being here. Seemed like exactly her kind of thing, so it did. And like, it really was nice to see her, with that flickering light around her and all - she was looking hot, yeah. Always was, but now even kinda more than usual. Not important now though, but still a nice little side note.

Was that Johnny over there too? With a mug like that, could only really be him, no second chap he could think of who had been screwed over by Mother Nature that hard. Shit though. Sitting next to that Darius dude, so he was. Didn't know the guy personally, but he was like, Bradley's cous or so, so prolly not really big on Aiden bein' around. Whatever, could still ignore him, if he started bein' a Dari-douche. Wouldn't let a thing like that get in the way of some fun.

Finally, there she was, lady of the house, lady of the park. Frickin' Junks herself, right next to that Youtube big shot, Marie Ann Cooking Otter, or whatever her name was. Had to speak to her first, so he did, courtesies and shit, let the host know they were like The Godfather round there. More like Yakuza, in Junko's case. Didn't expect her to have already seen him, so he decided to make his presence known from afar, afar meaning less than twenty feet away, but still.

Shrewd grin on point, he started wavin' his hand around, doing a sort of loud clickin' noise with his mouth for his entrance. "Ey, what's up, Junks? Sorry to interrupt your little flirt here, just thought I'd let you know there's a large influx of Beaks incoming."
Edited by Rorick Skyve, Aug 6 2016, 04:40 AM.
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KamiKaze
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“Correction: Darius succeeded at hugging Raina. He also succeeded at getting a beer thrown in his face.”

Junko had lifted her skewer away from the fire. Her hot dog was starting to get a little crispy, though it didn’t get burnt like Raina’s did. Fortunately, or unfortunately? Well, she’d still eat it anyways. Again, some burnt food tasted better.

Though… damn it. She knew she forgot something. Junko didn’t play the guitar. She just didn’t have attention span to learn how to play. Sarah did, though. It wasn’t like she could just drag her over here, though. Sarah had a life of her own, and she didn’t want her or Koharu to find out there were people getting drunk and creeping on girls. Sure, she didn’t mind all sorts of things, but she wanted them to think of it as a… relatively tame party. Junko got up to all sorts of shit, yeah, but there was still something kind of sad about them finding out about it. Maybe it’s because parents knowing about what you do is different from classmates. Guitar would have been nice, though. Maybe someone could’ve provided a background score to Darius’ impromptu musical numbers. Maybe.

Junko pictured it for a second, and let out a chuckle at the mental image.

Also, who reads at a party? You’d think that Johnny would be the last person, too. Was it really that boring, even with drunk Darius aro-

Oh.

Oh

Had to admit it: that was actually a pretty smart way to hide weed. It was like something out of a spy novel, swear to god. Spy novels featuring stoners, actually. She would read it, because that would be the best thing ever. Was there something like that? If not, she might write it. She didn’t have much writing ability, but it did seem like something people would pick up. Even if it was just for the novelty.

Junko found herself staring at he prepared a spliff. She still wasn’t sure about getting high, since, you know, she was the host, no matter what Darius said. It might be good to stay sober. But, Junko wasn’t too incapable when high, at least from personal experience. She did bring her own, too, just in case.

“Maybe not right now,” she said in response to Johnny’s offer. “Might be a good idea to stay sober for the time being. Just in case like… I dunno, someone jumps into the fire or something?”

She smiled, though.

“Maybe later.”

Come to think of it, an after-party toke would be nice. Clean up everything, take care of anything that might have come up, and then just end the evening with some weed. That would the ideal way to finish this, actually. Hopefully nothing would come up to change that.

A loud clicking noise had heralded someone else’s presence. And that someone was Beaks, standing some feet away. Junko had remembered that he said he wanted to drop by, but he had to go to the dance first. He had a date, after all. Though, she didn’t see anyone with him, so maybe they decided not to go with him? Perhaps. Though, was she flirting with someone? Maria was angry, and… maybe sharing weed could be flirty. Depends on the context. Like, did your lips both touch it? Okay, yeah, that would be flirty.

“Hey,” she said, lifting a free hand in greeting. “You made it. Everything all right? You know, at the dance.”

Junko didn’t really care about the dance. If she did, this party wouldn’t exist. But she couldn’t help but ask. It probably wouldn’t be too different from any other school dances she’d been to. Just with some weird, outdated gimmick with an iffy backstory.
RICHARDS/BAINES OTP!

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Dannyrulx
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The guy who went AFK for a few months
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Junko had... Forgotten her? That was kinda shitty. I mean, she was practically the poster girl for the whole 'work hard, play hard,' aspect of Cochise, and she'd been entirely forgotten to an actual party? By Junko? I mean, sure they weren't massive friends, no big hugs and cheek kisses, but the two knew each other fairly well, and chatted quite often. Plus, again, she was the goddamn party girl of Cochise. Junko really did have a shit memory apparently.

There was a splashing sound and she looked up, only to see that Darius had just taken a can of beer all over his nice, clean face. And clothes, and just about everything he had on him. She wondered what had triggered Raina to chuck it. Maybe Darius had made a move or something? Seemed likely. Raina was relatively sensible, not the kinda chick to just start flinging booze around like that.

Talking of booze... She had finished her third can of beer. She tipped the can all the way round, even going so far as to pop a hole in the side with her penknife to get the last drops. Alcoholic she wasn't, but you didn't waste beer. Even if it was kinda shit and was dangerously tiptoeing the line on 'piss.' Still, she'd need a lot more to get drunk. More than just beer as well. She had the pills, although...

Well that solved a lot of problems didn't it? Junko turning down that spliff just made it all the more easy for her to pop that 'I'm not gonna remember this in the morning' grin and indicate for Johnny to pass the roll-up. "Hey, buddy, I got something a lil' stronger for when the party heats up, but for now, mind if I can have a toke?"

You don't win the game of death by dying first. The name's a little misleading.

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