[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

[whattingawhat]

"That was part of it. Also...probably on the side of TMI." She takes a sip of her drink and then rolls her eyes. "Masochist much? You'd make a great vampire with a soul."

[minigolfandsushi]

A snarky response dies on Peter's lips. Her words bring him back to the night his parents were murdered, the vampire that had hunted them through their own home. The nightmares that woke him, gasping for air, as the demon came back for him.

"Vampires don't have souls!" he snarls, knuckles white around his drink. "They are ravenous, insatiable monsters. The closest thing they have to emotion is sadistic delight. There is nothing human left in them."

He pictures his parents hunting the streets of London. Nothing left of the people they had been; just monsters hiding in the brutalized shells of their bodies.

"BARKEEP!" He slams the glass down on the table, hard enough that it flies out of his sweaty palm and crashes onto the floor. Whatever. He pounds the table with his fist. "BARKEEP. GET ME ANOTHER DRINK."

[whattingawhat]

Oooookay that's not the reaction Buffy expected. She's a little shocked for a minute before she reaches out and wraps her fingers around Peter's wrist.

"Hey, give him a second. He's getting there."

Once he's got his drink, Buffy is going to slide her hand down from his wrist to take his hand. If he'll let her, she's going to take him over to a corner booth that's a little more quiet, give him a chance to settle down and talk about what the hell exactly happened there.

[minigolfandsushi]

Peter doesn't want to talk about it. He just wants to get completely and utterly wasted. He wants the liquor to wash away the memories. It never has before, but that doesn't stop him from trying.

He doesn't protest as Buffy leads him to a quiet corner, but he does steal a pitcher of beer from a passing waiter.

There is not enough liquor in the world.

[whattingawhat]

Buffy scoots into the booth with him, nudging him over with her hip and sort of turns to face him, one knee pulled up to her chest. She rests her chin on her knee and watches him for a little while before saying anything.

"Okay, so clearly that was all chord strike-y. Want to discuss?"

[minigolfandsushi]

A noise escapes his throat that can't honestly be described as a laugh.

"I'm going to say 'No,'" he says. "And you're going to make some sympathetic noises and try to convince me that it's for my own good. And I'll continue to say no, and you'll continue to push, and we will be here for fucking hours before going home fucking miserable."

He downs the rest of his drink. "So allow me to propose an alternative. You get us another round of drinks, forget this whole thing ever happened, and I will go on stage and sing Katy Perry or whatever fucking awful pop shit would make you laugh. Everybody goes home happy!"

[whattingawhat]

"I'm not really a push people to talk kind of girl." Because she doesn't like being pushed. "It's more of a wait around until they're ready to talk kind of thing." She will, however, provide people with a target to hit or hit back in return if that's what makes it better. She and Faith go round and round in this manner. She and Angel and Spike did as well.

She grins a little and shrugs. "Who am I to turn down an evening's entertainment."

[minigolfandsushi]

That takes him by surprise. He doesn't smile, exactly, but the look he gives her is warm, grateful, and genuine - nary a leer in sight.

"Well then," he says. "Go forth and get drinks! And I will seek out an appropriately humiliating song."

[whattingawhat]

She recognizes that look and takes it for what it is before she leans in and kisses him on the cheek. Just as quickly, she slides out of the booth to procure the drinks.

She'll join him in song selection with a glass of that weird green stuff he likes to drink and a girly, frozen daiquiri for herself.

[minigolfandsushi]

[Peter flips through the the karaoke selection, and he finds the perfect embarrassing song. Hopefully the cheesiness of the song will block out the memories.]

[whattingawhat]

[She'll pass off the midori for liquid courage. She might even come up there and help him out with the singing. She's had enough to drink.]

[minigolfandsushi]

[He gives her a crazy grin in thanks as he downs the midori and then jumps onto the stage.]

AND NOW, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME, I WILL BE YOUR MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT OF THE NIGHT!

[He bursts into song.]

[whattingawhat]

[Buffy is going to be front and center for this one, eventually doubled over laughing and attempting to cheer and clap wildly at the same time.]

[minigolfandsushi]

[He ends the song and bows.]

THANK YOU! THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

[whattingawhat]

[Buffy is even going to pass over a drink to him. Yeah she's enabling now.]

[minigolfandsushi]

[He takes the drink and chugs it down.]

SO. What's next?

[whattingawhat]

You tell me. You're driving this train but I will tell you, no, I'm not getting naked.

[minigolfandsushi]

Well you know how to take the fun out of everything. [good humoredly]

[whattingawhat]

[Buffy smirks and shakes her head, clearly not offended.]

It's a special gift. Buffy the fun slayer. Do you dance?

[minigolfandsushi]

DO I DANCE, the lady asks!

[Peter starts dancing. It's not a pretty sight.]

[whattingawhat]

[Oh God, she's going to die laughing but she is also going to dance with him. Her embarrassment threshold is fairly high.]

I should have never doubted you.