[OPEN]

[othersdie]

Who: Everyone!
What: Drinking!
When: March 3rd
Where: The Blue Light
Rating: Let's say R (I'll edit if... things happen)

Note(s): Party time!  Tag all over the place, threadjack, make new friends, forget new drinking buddies--have fun!


There are a number of bars in the City.  The Blue Light is one of the busier ones and, on the weekends, it's at its busiest. 

This Saturday is no exception.  Drinking, dancing, flirting--if it's legal, it's happening (and if it's questionably legal, it's probably happening more discretely; this is one of the nicer bars the City has to offer, after all).  Whether you're a social drinker on a night out with your friends, a hardcore partier who habitually clears your Sunday schedule, or just there to drink the last of the desert away, you'll be in good company.

Comments

[othersdie]

Justin is already well into his third or fourth--sixth? who's counting--drink when the hollering begins. He's usually happy to stay in an out-of-the-way corner when he drinks, but irritation and alcohol motivate them to locate the disruptor of the peace.

"Can you keep it down?"

[minigolfandsushi]

Peter gives a slow, dramatic turn to face the newcomer - a young man, rather adorable in a sallow, mopey kind of way.

"Look at Mr. Grumpy-Face!" he coos, reaching out to pat the younger man's cheek.

[othersdie]

He might look like he's been crying about a girl lately, too (mostly because he has). He may also seem absolutely mortified by the physical contact (entirely because he is).

"Please. Don't."

[minigolfandsushi]

That just eggs Peter on, and the pat becomes a pinch. "You should turn that frown upside down! You're never gonna get laid with a face like that."

[othersdie]

Justin's not exactly sober and he's certain that this man is heavily intoxicated; this prevents him from delivering any death glares or reconsidering murder as a past time.

"I'm never getting laid. Ever."

[minigolfandsushi]

That almost makes Peter cry. "Oh come on, it can't be so bad as that," he says, and wraps an arm around Justin's shoulder. "What's your type? I'm sure I can hook you up."

[othersdie]

This is uncomfortable. Justin can't bring himself to care. "Type? The type who want to be friends." He sniffles and picks his empty cup up, glaring at it for having the nerve to be empty.

[minigolfandsushi]

"Aaaaah." Peter nods thoughtfully. "Have you asked her about friends with benefits?"

[othersdie]

"I wouldn't do that," he replies, not half as appalled as he feels he ought to be. "She's a... she's a princess. Literally. She deserves better."

[minigolfandsushi]

"What's better than a roll in the sack with someone who likes you?" Peter is legitimately confused. But a thought occurs to him. "Though there's a lot to be said for angry hate sex..."

[othersdie]

Justin shakes his head and ducks away from Peter. "I wouldn't know."

He certainly didn't enjoy it when Richard was angry with him and things got physical. It wasn't sex, thank whoever, but adding sex to violence doesn't seem... appealing.

[minigolfandsushi]

Justin's not getting away that easy. "You poor, poor thing," Peter says sympthetically. "Tell you what. If I don't find you a girl to get your mind off your troubles, I will do you myself."

[othersdie]

It takes a moment--or several--for those words to form a coherent sentence in Justin's head. When they finally coalesce into something he recognizes as language, his jaw all but drops to the floor.

Have some stunned silence.

[minigolfandsushi]

Peter takes that as acceptance and slaps him on the ass. "SO. What's your type? Physically, I mean, not emotionally. We already know you like the 'just friends' thing a little too much."

[othersdie]

That makes Justin move--specifically, into a standing position. "Did..."

Oh, the bar's spinning. He sits back down and stares at Peter. "Who are you?"

[minigolfandsushi]

"Peter Vincent, Master of Darkness." The melodramatic title is delivered in an almost business-like manner. "But tonight, I am your wingman. And/or your cherry picker."

[othersdie]

"No." It's unclear whether this is in response to Peter's twofold offer or his title or simply a denial that this is happening. Justin gets up again and tries to remember where he left Neil and Todd.

On second thought, he doesn't think he wants to be around those two right now. They never flirt in public, but their mere togetherness is like a slap in the face. Justin sits back down, gives Peter a very serious look, and says, "I've died a virgin three times. I'd rather do that a fourth time than have a... a wingman, or..."

Justin doubles over to put his forehead on the table, wondering what his life is. "You're the Master of Darkness?"

[minigolfandsushi]

"According to my IMDB page." Peter frowns. "Why would you want to die a virgin a fourth time? More importantly, how did you manage to die a virgin the first three?"

Selective hearing has its advantages.

[othersdie]

"Your IMDB page." This is a look that conveys a lack of being impressed.

Justin shakes his head. "Dying is remarkably... insignificant." And now he will count on his fingers. "The first time I was asphyxiated in a gas chamber. The second time, I was eaten alive by an alien. The final time I was torn apart by zombies."

[minigolfandsushi]

Justin's lack of amazement is disappointing. Sigh.

His recounting his multiple deaths provides a good distraction from Peter's wounded ego. "Fuuuuuuuuuck," he breathes. "You need a girl."

[othersdie]

"You say that like I've taken up dying as a hobby."

[minigolfandsushi]

"You've died three times," Peter says. "Is someone paying you to fucking do it?"

[othersdie]

"No," he answers lamely, aware that dying three times in as many years is a bit... on the high side, statistically. "It just happens. And it's not always worth fighting to stay alive."

[minigolfandsushi]

That idea boggles Peter. The will to survive - in any form, in any matter, regardless of quality of life - is so deeply ingrained in him that the idea of it being easier to die is inconceivable. It doesn't stem from a philosophy or any kind of spirituality; he doesn't put much stock in the "sacredness" of life. Life is suffering and people are shitheads. For him, the will to live is simply a fact of life, like the beating of his heart.

"Here's the important question," he says. "Do the people around you tend to die, or is it something you do on your lonesome?"

[othersdie]

The will to live, the death drive--thanatos. In another universe, this might have been a deep, philosophical conversation. In this one, it's mostly just making Justin wonder how the hell he's managed to die twice since actually dying.

He frowns. "I'm usually the only one."