Pilot Ridge Holiday Bash 2012!

There was no way that Nini wasn't going out tonight - drinking and people would get her to the ends of the earth if her shoes could handle it, and given that this was a yearly event, she really didn't have an excuse not to be there. Classic black dress, heels at far too high a height, liver pre-warned that it was going to have to work harder than a Chinese orphan in a Nike factory, the weeks' work already finished - there certainly wasn't going to be anything productive done tomorrow! The only two grating issues were that due to the copious amounts of alcohol that she intended to consume meant that she would have to walk - Nini kept reminding herself to just drink with one body and see what happened when she was half-sober, but whenever she tried to do it she just ended up joining in. Perhaps it was something to do with being a single entity, but Nini thought there was more likely that it was impossible because she was French. The other real kicker was that she would have to pay $40 rather than $20 - wonderful as keeping her sight after blindness and having the cognitive skills of two brains at her disposal (which averaged out with the stupidity of two brains, but she preferred not to dwell on that particular aspect) was, she still didn't enjoy having to pay twice.

On the upside, this would hardly be her first visit to this particular destination, and any chance to acquire both alcohol and the sight of an attractive young person in very few clothes was always enjoyable. Handing over the fee while disguising a grimace as a slightly forced smile, Nini soon found herself smiling as the music starting pounding a familiar beat (was nobody ever going to produce another piece of music that wasn't in 4/4 time?) and a very quick trip towards the bar landed two very enjoyable drinks whose names were lost on her, but their taste certainly wasn't, as she slinked around to a table, fiddling with Catherine's red & green silk blindfold, teasing herself while she waited for the house to fill out a little; Nini was not intending to be that one person who stood in the centre of the dancefloor awkwardly and probably went into the bathroom some time afterwards to cry, snort cocaine and throw up. No, probably want to avoid that, she decided, while Nicole sipped at her drink. Those people always get murdered in films.

It had taken a while for Barbara Robinson to decide she would attend the holiday bash. This was not her first year in Pilot Ridge, nor was it the first time she had been invited (after all, it was open to all adults in the area). She usually came up with one excuse or another, though, dancing herself around the truth that she just didn't feel comfortable in such a setting. She didn't have many friends in the area, and she certainly didn't want to stand in the corner watching other people have a good time. That just wasn't her style. So she would come up with one rationalization or another - she didn't have anything to wear, or she didn't have anyone to look after the shop while she was gone, and on and on.

But this year was different. She was feeling antsy - and, in truth, like she could use a drink or three - and had overheard one day at Shake a few older folks discussing the upcoming party rather excitedly. After thinking it through, she decided she had nothing to lose. She would go, grab herself a drink, and stay if she had someone to talk to. Otherwise, there was no shame in heading home early; it was just a party, after all.

And so it was that Barbara arrived at La Maison Magnifique - now there was a place she never thought she would walk into - and handed her twenty bucks to a rather friendly young woman at the door. To another member of the staff, she handed her black coat, revealing beneath it a purple dress that she thought did her a few favors. Walking through the entryway, she found herself in the middle of a large room. Oh, Lord, a dance floor - she would be staying away from that. She was, however, quite impressed with all the decorations. What, was there some sort of committee? "Fancy shmancy..." she muttered to herself good-naturedly before making a bee-line toward the bar.

There were several people there by now, but it was obvious that there were still many more who had yet to arrive. Ordering a vodka soda from the bartender, she received it in her hand just as an older man was announcing that he would be paying for the first round. Hey, only there two minutes and she was already glad she came.

"A man after my own heart," she called back as she lifted her glass into the air, before taking a deep drink.

It had been a while since Greg went out, seeing as he's actually made proper use of his time and has set to work on different projects. He wasn't trying to be a busy body though, and knew when he needed a rest.

Leaving $60 at the door, Greg instructed whoever was listening to donate the rest to charity. "I'll be spending more than that on drinks anyways," he said reassuringly. He sighed. If only that money could be donated as well.

Upon spotting Greg and Josh, Greg gave a little wave, but was soon distracted by what Stefan was interested in.

"He's just kidding you know," he said, sitting next to his friend who he hadn't seen in a while, "I'll finish it before he does."

Barbara had to admit she surprised herself sometimes; she had been there for all of two minutes and was already meeting folks. She wasn't the type to go up to people randomly and start a conversation usually, so she was glad someone else had done so. It helped that he seemed like a real adult, too, not some of those younger ones who barely knew how to behave. This was definitely more her type of social situation. She made a mental note as she observed this man's physical closeness to the other male sitting beside him. She wasn't terribly surprised: it seemed like just about everyone in this town was gay, but Hell, to each their own, right? As it was, she was just here to mingle.

"Nice to meet you both," she said, shaking hands with each one. "I'm Barbara. Own the ice cream place over at the mall." Most people knew of that establishment even if they didn't necessarily go there, or at any rate it made her seem like less of a stranger. "You, uh, you work in town?" Small talk was lost on her, since she so rarely made it, but she did try.

She watched as two other men approached this man; he sure seemed to be Mr. Popular. She couldn't help but smile as the men each declared their love for all things alcoholic. "Boy, this is turnnig out to be my kinda crowd," she said, allowing the aforementioned smile to spread into a grin. "Drink up, boys," she added with a laugh. "Oh, I'm Barbara," she added to the two newcomers, giving a friendly little wave.

This was something Brendan felt he had to do. He had to face his old coworkers again. He had to not be terrified of running into them. Of course, there’d been that one time with Sean at Fifi’s party. Hell, that was really awkward. But ultimate, Bren felt this experience would be a lot better.

For one, if nothing else, he could get completely and utterly sloshed tonight. Second, Jake would be with him.

Yes, that’s right, he was dragging Jake with him. Because his friend needed to face these people just as much as he did. Actually, more so. And Brendan was absolutely happy to be there with Jake as he did what Bren told him to do.

Ok, so it hadn’t been that easy. There may have been a little white lie at first about what they were actually doing and a promise from Brendan to buy copious amounts of drinks for throughout the evening, which he had every intention of doing. And considering the amount of times Bren went over to Jake’s and drank him almost completely dry (with the help of Ella of course), it was only fair.

“Jake. Come oooon! It’s not gonna be that bad! Moooove!” Bren, having come clean about what they were actually doing, had one of Jake’s hands grasped in both of his own and was quite literally dragging the man to the door. “Face your demons, Jakey boy! It won’t be that bad. People probably won’t even want to talk to us! But we have to show them we’re not afraid to show our faces. Now come ooon!”

Finally at the door, Brendan huffed, adjusted his jacket and shirt to sit properly again, and opened it, waving Jake in. “Go on, go straight to the bar. I’ll buy baby a bottle.”

Eric loved teleporting. It was just... so convenient, as far as powers went. And it meant he could spend that extra fifteen minutes on his hair. By the time he arrived to pick Blaire up (in a taxi because no drinking at a holiday party? No) he was looking pretty nice if he said so himself. A man in a tailored suit was apparently, to women, what a girl in nice underwear was to men.

"I love the dress. You look like a disco ball," he commented once he'd kissed Blaire on the cheek.

Smirking slightly at her as they walked in, Eric raised his eyebrow. "Don't tell me you forgot already," he scolded. "Zebra is 'this is a bit awkward', meercat is 'get me the hell out right now' and lion is 'you'll need to get a separate ride home because I am finally getting laid.'"

Glancing at the bar, Eric chuckled. "You want our old school therapist to buy us drinks?" he asked, "that's cheap. But, tis the season..." checking his cuffs in case they had picked up any dirt between the taxi and here he thought. "Rocks if the best they can do is Johnny Black. Straight if it's actually nice, thanks. You getting something fruity?"