Special Event: Pilot Ridge Holiday Bash!

[Event !]

Who exactly started the Pilot Ridge Holiday Party tradition has been lost to time, as at least three different people in town claim it was their idea. (It was totally Mrs. Perry, but not enough people can corroborate it, so she has to share the credit.) But no matter who first put it into motion, the party is a tradition the whole town anticipates every year.

It is held in the largest rental hall in town, at a nice restaurant. Admission is $20, and half of that is donated to the charity-of-the-year, or $10 if a donation is supplied. (This year's charity: Toys for Tots.) There is plenty of food, and plenty of booze. Not to mention, a lovely dance floor.

And they're serious about carding. No Hammel students or characters under 21 allowed.


This event will be closed on January 14. This thread is not eligible for Thread of the Month. It is a party thread, so do not worry about post order, so long as you have something to respond to. (And get people involved! Drink and dance with someone new!)

[Victoria Jefferson]

It was relatively early, but the place was already pumped with music, people, food, and drink. Victoria had allowed herself an evening out for fun, and she'd remembered being younger and hating being excluded from the 'adult' party.

Cocktail in hand, Vikki's hips swayed in rhythm with the music as she watched couples, friends, and acquaintances bob around each other in holiday cheer. Fuzzy feather earrings brushed her the peek-a-boo shoulders of her top as she bopped her head to a particularly fun section of the music.

Waving to a few people she knew, Vikki smiled, said hellos, but mostly stayed in the same spot close to the wall and bar. She wasn't much of a dancer, that had been her more vivacious sister. She wouldn't decline a body if they'd asked her to dance, but it seemed everyone had their own partners and she was content enough to watch those that were move around. Some were performing more formal dances, others had their arms wrapped around each other and swayed back and forth ignoring the actual music playing and moving to their own whims.

Regardless of how people danced, it was a nice sense of community.

[Tarak Rana]

Tarak had not intended to attend the holiday bash alone. He and Yizel had planned to go together, as a nice date night, and he'd been so looking forward to taking her.

As with many plans, however, unforeseen circumstances had forced the couple to reevaluate: Michael had come down with bronchitis, and they couldn't leave him at home alone. They also didn't yet know anyone in the area they trusted enough to babysit, although Tarak was uncomfortable with the idea of leaving a sick child with anyone who wasn't family regardless.

Yizel had volunteered to stay home and sent him on his way. He wasn't thrilled to attend solo, but part of his job involved networking, and a party attended by half (if not more) the adults in Pilot Ridge was a spectacular opportunity, one he simply couldn't afford to pass up.

He'd worn a suit of a rather mundane charcoal grey along with a red tie with a small holly print, which he considered seasonal without being overtly Christmas themed; he had always allowed Michael to celebrate the secular variant of Christmas because he considered fitting into the rest of society important, and Christmas for better or for worse was a huge deal.

In any event, he wanted to be festive without confusing people as to his religious affiliation, and that had seemed both classy and celebratory.

He gave Vikki a wave, then glanced around to see if there was anyone else he knew, or perhaps anyone who looked like the sort of person he needed to connect with. It was unfortunate that he didn't drink; the bar would have been a good place for that.

[Joshua Bernstein]

Last year's holiday bash had not been the most fun party Josh had ever attended. In fact, he was fairly certain that it was the worst. He'd not only been injured and on overpowering pain killers, but because of those pain killers he hadn't been allowed to drink. He hadn't felt up to dancing, and people had hovered over him and proclaimed to the entire world he had been assaulted.

This year would be better.

This year he was not only not recovering from broken ribs, but he could drink, he could dance, and his date was actually officially, well, his date.

The only similarities to the previous year's party were that they had loaded up the trunk with toys as donations and the snow falling on the ground. And, of course, his companion, though this time sans Clarisse.

"I know what I'm doing." He announced after they had dropped off their donations and hung up their coats. "To the bar, to celebrate the holiday season like it's meant to be celebrated!"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Last year’s holiday bash had been a fairly miserable affair for Sean. While it wasn’t the worst party he had ever attended, it was on the list of the worst ten parties, and there had been concerns. Not only had he been concerned about Josh’s safety and health, but he’d had to preserve his friend’s dignity, and then deal with his mother. Additionally, he had abstained from drinking for Josh’s benefit, and then there had been those people who had given him the vibe. Who had later proven to be part of M.S.A.D.

Fortunately, M.S.A.D. was gone, and Josh had recovered, and neither of them needed to abstain from drinking. This last point was underscored by his partner’s declaration no sooner than they had hung their coats.

Two minutes into the party, and they were already going to drink; this was the proper way to party.

“I hope that I’m invited to this celebration,” he replied, but he didn’t given Josh the opportunity to uninvited him. Instead, he walked beside the other man over to the bar, and pulled out his wallet. He flagged down the bartender and said, “When you have the time, could we have a Matador and a Three Wise Men, please?”

[Joshua Bernstein]

Before he could even blink Sean had ordered for them both, accurately assessing what he'd wanted. That was unsurprising, given the nature of Sean's abilities combined with thirty plus years of intimate friendship, but he always felt the need to comment nevertheless.

"So which one is for me? Or are they both for you?" He teased as he rested his elbows on the counter, tugging at the sleeves of his black suit. His tie was silver and blue stripes; he hoped that would prevent people from wishing him a Merry Christmas, as they ought to understand why he'd chosen those colors.

As per the advent calendar he had been allowed to pick out Sean's suit, and so, after careful deliberation, he'd chosen one in a blue color not because of Hanukkah, but because it matched Sean's eyes.

He really enjoyed gazing into them.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Knowing what Josh wanted to drink, or if they were at a quick serve restaurant what he wanted to eat, and ordering for him was what Sean considered to be a fair use of his telepathy. It wasn’t invasive, and it saved time; as such, he wasn’t apologetic for it, particularly because he assumed it wouldn’t make the other man uncomfortable.

Sean shifted slightly closer to Josh, as he settled at the bar, so that his hip brushed the shorter man’s. “They’re both for me. I assumed you might want to dance later, and I need to get properly liquored for that.” It was a joke, but contained an element of truth, since he didn’t dance sober.

The telepath pulled a twenty out of his wallet and set it down on the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender to mix their drinks. Since the holiday bash was only beginning to get underway – Sean had insisted they not arrive fashionably late – there weren’t many people ahead of them in the line for drinks. Thus he didn’t expect to have to wait too long.

Sean was pleased with the other man’s choice for his outfit today; fortunately, since he was at his partner’s mercy for clothing choices as per the advent calendar. He thought the blue looked acceptable on him, and hearing Josh’s thoughts, he knew the other man agreed.

That caused him to smile.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Ahhh, that's so thoughtful of you." Josh rejoined, one hand snaking over to rest lightly on his partner's knee. "I did hope to dance. I appreciate that you thought of that."

That was one activity where they weren't entirely in sync, as Josh loved to dance. He wouldn't say he was good at it, but he enjoyed it, and the music was already playing the sort of music that, while perhaps aimed more towards the younger guests, was clearly intended for dancing. He wasn't that picky; if the beat allowed for it he would dance to it.

As the bartender returned with their drinks his free hand grabbed the Matador and he murmured a thanks to the man behind the counter.

"You don't have to dance if you don't want to," He began, lifting his drink to his lips. "But I would appreciate it if you would join me on the dance floor for at least one or two songs. Perhaps the last dance at the very least?"

Last dances were always supposed to be special, but he rarely had anyone to dance them with.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean pressed his knee up into the other man’s hand, feeling the warmth from the physical contact. Light touches beneath the bar where nobody could see were one of the many pleasures that came from public drinking in formal settings.

Less pleasurable was the expectation and act of dancing. Sean had taken some dance instruction as a boy, and he knew how to dance the waltz and a few other dances which were formal and novelties at this point. Despite the knowledge, he didn’t enjoy the act. Unlike with playing the piano, where he had found a sense of reflective enjoyment – although he didn’t play for entertainment purposes, he did play voluntarily – he was satisfied never dancing. He didn’t even dance at weddings; he preferred to watch.

Still, he knew of Josh’s love of dancing, and in fact had made an allowance for that later this month. While he knew that his partner wouldn’t pressure him into joining him on the floor, he knew that it was meaningful, as Josh reiterated when the bartender handed them their drinks.

The telepath paid the bartender and thanked him, before taking a sip of his cocktail of whiskies. “If both of us can still stand by the time last dance comes around, I’ll dance with you.”

It wasn’t an idle promise, although given how they drank at parties, it was quite possible they’d lose interest in the notion when it was time for last dance.

[Gerard Mayburry]

Gerard was nearly the precise opposite of a party type of guy. He liked karaoke. He liked going to a bar. But things like this? Absolutely not his style. Between this and the OP New Year’s party that was happening, he was probably going to go nuts. At least this party didn’t have a white elephant exchange.

This party had egg nog. With plenty of nog. He nodded to Tarak from the bar and raised his glass, glad to see several of his employees at the party. It was really his own fault that he had to come at all: Alyssa had pointed out how good for business a party like that could be. His daughter was right, and he’d encouraged his employees to attend. That of course meant he had to practice what he was preaching.

Gerard secretly felt that Alyssa had only really suggested it to try and get him to be more social.

[Joshua Bernstein]

"That's so romantic," Josh murmured in amusement before returning his attention to his cocktail. He was aware that the caveat was all too likely to materialize, and that thus most if not all of the dancing he did tonight would be sans Sean. He would live with that; if a willingness to dance were his biggest requirement from a partner he would have known not to request a second chance with his best friend.

He had finished his drink and called for a second round when he noticed someone new at the bar. Or perhaps he had been there all along and the attorney simply hadn't noticed, too focused on his partner and their flirtations.

He didn't recognize the third person, although he had to be around their age judging by the greys in his hair. He had a very professional air about him from his neatly barbered hair to his clean-shaven, open face and wrinkle-free suit.

This was another reason to like parties: a chance to meet and interact with people he didn't know and to make new friends.

"Bartender!" He shouted, trying to catch his attention, "Include this man in our second round if you don't mind."

He patted Sean's knee affectionately while beaming at the stranger. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Joshua Bernstein and this," He inclined his head toward Sean, "is my partner, Doctor Sean Neville. And what's your name, friend?"

[Victoria Jefferson]

It was more than a little entertaining, watching the two just a little ways down the bar from her knock back drink after drink. If it weren't a party she'd be a little concerned for their alcohol levels and if she needed to direct them to the nearest AA meeting. She might still need to do that. But it was a party, and they weren't harming anyone. So long as they didn't try to get into a car afterwards, she'd let them be.

But if they DID try to drive. Well more would be their pity.

Just a little ways past the couple trying to see who could get drunker faster was her boss. To whom the bespeckled of the pair was buying a drink. Raising her own cocktail, which she quietly preened herself for still nursing, Vikki turned her beaming smile on and nodded her head back at her boss. She hadn't noticed Tarak come in, but he was often overlooked whether she meant to or not. It was on such occasions as meetings that she wondered why she hadn't noticed him sitting in the chair next to her until he said something. Though there were times when she noticed him straight away. Those were relatively rare, however.

Leaning her ample frame against the bar, Victoria winked at her boss, a teasing gesture meant to convey that she thought it was rather nice he was out and about with the town rather than shut away in his office. The latter was more common, but then Vikki couldn't really say much abut that as she didn't exactly go out often herself.

But this was a party. A holiday party. For the town.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I’m a natural romantic,” Sean retorted, before he knocked back the rest of his Three Wise Men. He had to hand it to this bartender – and to the holiday bash every year; the drinks were never watered down. He promised himself to intersperse the alcohol with water, and he also had a taxi number programmed into his telephone for later tonight.

He assumed that he and Josh would require assistance in returning home, and he could always pick up his car tomorrow morning. He didn’t worry about it being stolen overnight, which was the security that came from living in this small town for over two decades.

In anticipation of this next round of drinks, Sean pulled out his wallet again, withdraw a small stack of twenties and set them down on the bar. He knew that he and Josh would keep this up for a while, and it was better to get this necessity out of the way now.

While the bartender went about mixing drinks, Sean turned in the direction of the man to whom Josh was introducing them both. Setting his empty glass down, he offered his hand to the grey-haired man. “Actually, I’ve never seen this man before in my life.”

Obviously untrue, since Josh’s hand was still on his knee. “But it’s nice to meet you.”

[Gerard Mayburry]

He missed Vicki’s wink by only a millisecond, distracted as he was by the younger man’s hand on the other’s knee. The other man’s knee. Gerard would be the first man to admit his flaws, and this was one of them. He was so incredibly uncomfortable around homosexual people. No reason why really, ‘cept maybe his upbringing, but he just always got a little knotted feeling in his stomach around gay couples.

And make no mistake: He wasn’t one of those ass holes who thought every one was flirting with him. These two were clearly committed. It was as frustrating as it was inexplicable. Gerard awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, offering a hesitant smile. “Well thanks neighbor. That’s awful nice of you.” He said to both men: to Josh for including him, and to Sean to laying down the cash.

He laughed tensely at Sean’s joke, but shook his hand firmly and looked him in the eye when he returned the introductions. “Mister Bernstein. Doctor Neville. Gerard Mayburry. Good to meet you both.”

[Feivel Silverstein]

Feivel usually didn't attend the annual Holiday Bash that the town held. He was rarely seeing anyone, and he'd just never been all that interested. Despite their solid Hebrew names, he and Gideon had stopped practicing pretty much any religion after they'd started at Hammel. They'd observed Christmas in the most secular way for the past few years, but mostly Feivel had been working and Gideon hadn't been. Same as any other month of the year. But this year, the editor actually had a date, and he had a plan in mind too. One that Gideon absolutely could not ruin, as he made sure to lie about where he and Esme were going to go.

There were only two stages to his plan, and the first part was actually the more difficult one. He'd dressed up nicely, and he'd pulled out his one very nice coat that he'd had altered to allow for his wings. But more important than how his was dressed was that he'd insisted on picking Esme up.

He arrived at her door and rang the bell, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for her to come out. No, Feivel hadn't brought his car. When he'd said he'd pick her up, he'd meant it literally. "Are you ready to go?" Because he was pretty sure Esme would never turn down being flown from her door to the entrance to the party, over the little town covered in Christmas lights.