A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (closed)

[Greg Mackenzie]

Hiding had never been Greg’s strong suit. He’s always been the biggest guy in class – the fattest back in elementary, then suddenly the tallest once that summer of puberty came. And now, with the addition of fast-paced sports in his repertoire, he’s also among the bulkiest.

He had just sort of figured out how he’d hide by the corner of the closet (with the help of a cleverly placed blanket) when he heard Marnie’s inquiry. Greg stared, eyes wide and mouth agape, as the girl slowly vanished to the wall. “That is so awesome.” She’s like an octopus in those YouTube videos Greg loved to watch in his spare time – the kind that effortlessly blends with the colour and texture of its background. “The dress needs some work though. It’s like halfway between a red and whatever the colour of the wallpaper was.” Hopefully something would stall the room occupant enough for Marnie to successfully hide.

And Greg’s wish was quickly granted with Ashley hurling tonight’s dinner, and even some of today’s breakfast and lunch, onto their host’s roommate. Great.

He stood there, frozen for a split-second (because come on, that was just amazing), before realizing that they needed to get out of here – the party, not just the room – fast. Not just because the girl’s some sort of kinetic (pyro, hydro, tele – Greg wasn’t sober enough to find out the finer details), but she seemed rather close to the party’s host and if the party’s host gets wind of Greg being associated with the little girl who threw up, his chances of dating the party host’s friend would go down real quick. And he can’t have that. Especially since he’s already thought of names for their future kids. (They’d have three: two boys and a girl. Lawrence, Frederick, and Beatrice).

Without much of a warning, Greg scooped Ashley up – bridal-style – and grabbed Marnie as he made a beeline out the door. “Excuse me everyone, passing through,” he yelled, projecting the same thought lest they couldn’t hear him over the gossiping and the gasping and the laughing and the music. “Marnie, I saw some bottles of water by the fridge. Right beside the vodka, so be careful. I’ll meet you outside?”

Carrying Ashley out had not been that easy, given his level of intoxication, but the adrenalin that surged in his system for that short period kind of helped. Kinda. “You ok now Ashley?” he asked when they reached the dorm hallway, Greg absentmindedly sitting on the floor, “Feeling better now?”

[Marnie Sullivan]

Rooted to the floor, all Marnie could do was watch in horror as Ash launched a truly spectacular defense against the incoming room owner. Even though it was clearly time to bail, she simply froze and stared until Greg yanked her out while the chance was there. It took the boy yelling about obtaining water for her to come to her senses to any functional degree.

Marnie split off from her companions to duck into the kitchen. Still mostly green, with her flashy necklace and pilfered red dress, she must have been quite a sight. Luckily the lights were still dimmed throughout the dorm. It wasn't luck that Ash had created such an effective distraction, but Marnie wasn't abou to complain.

Once in the kitchen, she was relieved to find the water exactly where Greg said it would be. Someone else must have grabbed the vodka, because there were only clear, unmarked plastic bottles on the counter. Marnie loaded three, one for each of them, into her purse and took off for the exit.

Outside, she found Ash and Greg in the hallway, thankfully having not left her behind. Marnie hurried over and knelt beside her roommate. "Are you okay?" she asked, and passed the girl a bottle. "That got crazy fast." She pulled another bottle from her purse and offered it to Greg, hero of the hour.

[Ashley Engel]

Ash groaned incoherently.
People were talking and gasping and laughing and shouting and it was entirely too much.

Greg made it infinitely better and worse.
Ashley had only been carried by one person in her life, and he was both a quiet mind and trusted friend. A stranger- a bigger, male stranger -was not a welcome point of contact. Especially not considering his personality.

As soon as Ash was off the ground her world was shrinking and expanding altogether.
Greg in all his endless detail and sound was pouring out in all directions, soaking her senses. He became the beginning and end of her awareness and for as loud as the partygoers were he was moreso. He wasn’t a screaming, frantic pierce of sound. He was.. different. Close. An omnipresent boom in the back of her ears that filled every inch of her understanding with the slightest of murmurs.

It did nothing to settle her stomach.

As soon as they were in the hall, there was a brief clarity.
Greg sounded like a song with the background pulled out- just the powerful, looming vocals. Not as busy, but still overpowering. Ash groaned, hands scrambling with a slowly recovering weakness. She couldn’t manage the words to tell him to let her go and not touch her. Her mouth was soured and her throat burnt. All she could do was put up a weak fight and a lot of guttural noises, all of which were painfully reminiscent of exactly why she hated people touching her to begin with. It had little to do with telepathy and a lot to do with an older man and an almost empty house. She didn’t keep in mind in her drunk haze that Greg was also a telepath. If she had, she might have found more strength and speed to get away from him with. As it was she took her slow, clumsy time in disengaging from him. She had the grace of a drunk foal in those moments.

Marnie’s return brought an odd sense of comfort with it.
Certainly, it was better than being alone in contact with Greg. Nothing against him personally, per say, she’d likely hate Marnie just the same if they were ever touching like that. She didn’t like the feeling of someone collapsing her senses into just their sound. Only one soul on earth could get away with that, and only rarely.

No sooner was the bottle in her hands than to her lips, and barely a moment after that than a single swallow and seize followed. Ash, seated and pressed against the wall opposite Greg, spat and coughed and gasped. As raw as her throat had felt, the bottle of clear liquid helped nothing. Her mouth felt almost cold after she spat the “water” out, and when she fought to catch her breath it was heavy with scent close to rubbing alcohol. Her hands scrambled to slap the cap back onto the bottle and screw it on while her lungs heaved in attempts to breathe evenly again. Great. Now she smelt like Cain. This night was going from unpleasant to just plain awful.

“I have decided-” she struggled over each syllable, with intermittent hacks and winces, “-I do not.. like parties.” She glanced up to Greg, almost adding Or You, but deciding against it. As deplorable as his habit of touching and talking was, he’d still rushed her out of a fairly terrible situation. He’d salvaged some degree of her pride. She owed him for that. Suddenly the sour taste in her mouth got worse.

“Other than that.. I’m fine.”

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg tried to look around for something Ashley could possibly throw up on – she didn’t look like she’s done and from his experience, things felt so much better after a good vomit – but unfortunately couldn’t find one. He knew he should’ve grabbed that tacky Hello Kitty vase he saw on the centre table.

“She’ll survive,” said Greg with a chuckle, grabbing the water bottle Marnie gave him and mouthing a thank you. He moved a little over to the side, trying to reinforce his mental walls and make some sense of that snippet he saw slip out of the smaller girl’s mind. It seemed rather ominous and he’d totally pry a bit further had he not sense how personal it was. And besides, now wasn’t the time nor day to mull over things like that.

He leaned to the wall and threw his head back, letting out a loud sigh. “You don’t by any chance have some mint with you, do you?” he asked Marnie. She probably didn’t, but the purse they stole“borrowed” might. He did laugh out loud when Ashley spoke (finally!), finding it oddly reminiscent of the first time his friends got him shit-faced. “What? You’re doing fine. Too early to call the party a bust yo.” It was barely midnight. They can’t let a small hiccup ruin their night right? “Save for a small group of people freaking out over your wonderful act, everything’s back to normal. Though someone did take a video of the whole thing.” Oops.

“And besides, Marnie’s having fun, right Marnie?” He sent the other girl a wink. “You did have dinner before you went here right?” The steady stream of people going in and out, as well as the music still roaring despite them being a good room or two down the hall, told Greg that the party still wasn’t over. “Come, take a breath, shake it off then let’s go back in! We’ve still yet to meet that nice gentleman who’s been having inappropriate thoughts about Marnie all night.”

[Marnie Sullivan]

Only when Ash managed to tell them she was fine did Marnie realize she'd been holding her breath. The girl was only here because she had insisted, now Ash was a helpless wreck. She watched miserably, flinching away from the spray of what smelled distinctly not like water because of course it's not water goddammit, apparently even finding the right bottle was too difficult. It wasn't until Greg declared the girl all right that Marnie allowed herself to smile at the absurdity of their situation.

"Here, let me check..." Digging past the black dress she'd tucked away, she rooted through the filched purse in search of mints, gum, maybe one of those tiny bottles of mouthwash if they were lucky. Nothing. Not even a tube of chapstick. Either the purse was new or its owner didn't use it much, because it was empty save for Marnie's dress and the bottle she'd stowed away for herself. The contents of which were now unidentified, she realized, but she could figure it out later. "Nothing, sorry."

The wink threw her off a little. "Uh, yeah, I guess," Marnie lied. She'd been so nervous about tonight, so occupied with making herself presentable that she'd completely forgotten to eat. But she could figure that out later as well - apparently there was a gentleman she either needed to chat with or run from. Feeling distinctly more sober after their daring escape, Marnie grabbed the bottle Ash had abandoned and forced herself to take a swig. It stung terribly, filling her nostrils with the smell of nail polish remover, but she managed to get it down with only a small coughing fit. This night wasn't going to be salvaged without a little help.

"It's up to you, Ash," Marnie offered, attempting and failing to clear her throat of the aftertaste. "I'll go if you're up for it."

[Ashley Engel]

Ash groaned and pressed her hands to her face.
She wasn’t so much embarrassed as she was frustrated. Maybe the normal reaction would have been social stress and shame and anxiety. But the only things tumbling in her were concern over the video and a mild sort of almost-anger. If there was recorded proof then there was a chance of it getting back to her grandfather. She wasn’t concerned of him not approving- she was fairly certain he would shrug off the idea of her drinking or going to a dorm party. But throwing up on someone? That was a bit too far.

Heaving a sigh, she grit her teeth against the feeling of her throat.
Greg and Marnie were deferring to her and she wasn’t quite sure how to deal with it. Slowly her hands peeled away from her face and she looked between the two of them. It was in that moment she realized they were two people who had gone with her. Not stood there, watching or laughing. Not lingering in the background as she moved by. But they had taken action to get out and now they were standing there, staring at her, leaving the choice in her lap.

It was about as close to an “I have friends, apparently” epiphany as she could get.
To say things clicked into place wasn’t quite accurate. Greg and Marnie weren’t suddenly sunshine and rainbow pals. But they were special. Important. Not so much background set pieces as active possessions on the field. Ash liked that. Even if she still didn’t like parties, despite Greg’s encouragement.

She didn’t want to go back in per say.
Absolutely nothing about that place or those people streaming in and out appealed to her. But just leaving, running away.. That bothered her. She had a furious young woman to apologize to, and people to face. Even if she didn’t like them, Ash liked the idea of going back in headstrong a lot more than slinking off. It was all a matter of ego, like most things.

“I feel better.” She nodded slowly and stood with some help from the wall behind her.
“I’d like to find some actual water, but beyond that I should be fine.” She eyed the water bottle in Marnie’s hands as she spoke. Carefully, she moved back down the hall towards the source of tumbling noise both audible and mental. People were constantly opening and closing the door, and before moving to hold it open for Greg and Marnie she paused to step just slightly closer to the other girl.

“We can get food later, whenever you want to leave. You shouldn’t go to bed on an empty stomach.” Sure, it was technically prying into the girl’s personal mental space to say so. But Ash was.. well, her tone suggested worried. Really it was more that Ash took care of her things, and Marnie was indeed one of her possessions, just like Greg was impossibly turning out to be. The two teens were interesting, and that made them hers. She looked after what was hers.

[Greg Mackenzie]

“That’s the spirit!” yelled Greg, jumping up and grinning widely as he squatted in front of the two. The night was far too young to retire just yet, and while he’s planning on going back anyway despite what the two might say, he had a feeling the night would be a bit more interesting with these two around. If the outfit hunt for Marnie and adrenaline rush cause of Ashley was any indication, that was. He’s had way too much fun in the half hour he’s been with the two than the whole hour he was in the party with Marcus.

Which reminded him, where the fuck was his friend anyway?

The Canadian wouldn’t be too pleased being thought of as anyone’s possession (unless he’s in one of those kinky moods, which in itself was a subject for another time), but given that it came from Ashley the Ice Queen herself, he’d probably take it as a small win. “Oh you filthy hoes,” he said with a sly grin, playfully wagging a finger then lightly tapping both their noses, “Party Foul 101: Never drink on an empty stomach. Goodness.” But, what done was done. He’d just be on the lookout for the girl who Ashley threw up on and her posse.

He took a swig off the water bottle Marnie gave him and almost spat it out. “…This isn’t water.” He said with a deadpan, unimpressed voice, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. But no time to give the two girls another sermon – Greg just saw the cutest little Asian boy walk in the room. Target locked.

“Come my children,” he said, linking arms with the two once again, “So Marnie, three guys had inappropriate thoughts about you. There’s a blonde, a brunette and a redhead. One’s our age, one’s younger and one’s older – way older. Who should we go to first?”

Greg hoped Marnie would choose the blonde and/or the one who’s way older. Cute Asian boy was that way and it’d be hitting two birds with one stone.

[Marnie Sullivan]

When her roommate suggested obtaining dinner after the party, Marnie remembered with a tiny jolt that Ash could read minds. Most of the time they had enough distance between them that it didn't matter, but she was going to have to get the hang of not fibbing around her. Or Greg, apparently, although for a moment she assumed he'd just somehow overheard what Ash had said to her. The noise wasn't quite loud enough out in the hallway to drown her out, maybe.

Still, with the mood significantly lightened by the decision to return, Marnie just grinned when Greg scolded them, though she faltered when he pointed out her mistake with the drinks she'd grabbed.

She was just about to offer to seek out cups of tap water for her companions - surely she couldn't screw that up - when the boy gathered them up and led them into round two. It wasn't until he mentioned inappropriate thoughts (how inappropriate?) that she recalled Greg's ability. Guys, huh? And multiple to choose from... Part of Marnie was flattered. The other part hastily unscrewed her plastic bottle and forced down another swallow. Flirting wasn't her strong suit, but she'd come this far. Might as well try.

"How much older are we talking?" she asked, voiced raised now that they were reentering the belly of the beast. "Because if he's like twenty-five it's weird, but I could maybe do twenty-one." She spoke with decidedly more confidence than her lack of experience should have allowed - was it the vodka talking? No, more like the tight dress and the presence of a certain fairy godmother-in-training.

[Ashley Engel]

Ash went between eyeing Marnie and outright glaring at Greg.
As in high standing with her as he was for the moment, she still didn’t like his habit of locking arms. Despite that, she didn’t weasel away from him. She fiddled with the sleeves of her jacket anxiously but otherwise tolerated his closeness while watching Marnie. Her reliance on the not-water bottle was worth observing. Liquid courage indeed, it seemed.

Greg’s obsession with shallow romance was largely annoying.
Ash didn’t see the point in any of it. She also didn’t like his steering Marnie in hopes of furthering his own agenda. (Such a thing was fine if Ash did it, but it struck her as unpleasant in others when she noticed it.)

“My best friend is twenty-four.” She stated it flatly as Marnie debated the age of a romantic pursuit. The way she looked between Greg and Marnie was question, as if to ask if it was really so weird to be close to someone older than oneself.
“And why are you two so hell-bent on snaring people with interest in you? What exactly do you plan to do? Immediately take them to bed? Date indefinitely? Propose on the spot? Procreate to further your bloodlines?”

[Greg Mackenzie]

Had the lights been a little brighter, the two girls could’ve seen the not-so-wicked smile that formed on the Canadian teen’s face when Marnie asked about the older guy’s age. Maybe mind control was also part of his metahuman repertoire and he didn’t know it yet, the boy thought. “Eww twenty-five is way too old,” laughed Greg, shaking his head slightly at his seemingly naïve partners-in-crime, “Half your age plus seven is what my friend always said the youngest you could date. So doing the reverse, the oldest we can, and should, date is-” The boy paused, not only verbally, but also physically. Mental math had never been his strongest suit, even if it involved simple addition and subtraction. At his current state of intoxication, well, it was lucky he even knew that eleven times two was “-Twenty two! Yes, the oldest we can date is twenty-two. Thankfully he’s only 19 so it’s all good.”

Just because he still remembered that nine minus six results in a negative number didn’t mean he’d know the right answer.

“…You have a best friend?” Greg didn’t mean the question to be as sharp as it sounded, but the boy was obviously a little surprised and a lot less inhibited. He didn’t even follow the question with his “trademark” sarcastic-maybe-I’m-serious-maybe-I’m-not smile. He just continued their wonderful swim across the sea of wildly drunk teens, with the telepath trying his best to hone in on his new life partnerMarnie’s admirer. “Oh shush you. He has a best friend who’s also slightly available-“ –drunk minds can’t read thoughts all too well – “-You’d be perf for each other.”

Once in front of the two men(?), Greg tapped one of them on the shoulder and said, “Hey! Have you met Marnie and Ashley?” Because despite the ending, Greg really loved that show. He snaked his arms off the two and gave them a slight push towards the two gentlemen(?), adding /Good luck you two!/, as he set off to hunt his own prey.

[Marnie Sullivan]

Something about Greg's math seemed a little off, but before Marnie could figure it out she and Ash were being dumped in front of a pair of strangers. One must have been the guy she'd "selected," a brunet around her height with a bit of a leer in his expression.

Marnie offered a timid smile and wave, confidence suddenly deflated by Ash's pointed questions. What was she doing here, anyway? Not the party at large, that was to have fun and maybe get a sense of what she figured was teenage normalcy, but here. She was a little rankled by the idea that chatting up boys at a party was some sort of personal deficiency. Maybe she just wanted to feel noticed, what was wrong with that?

Then again, Marnie realized, she didn't have to do anything with this guy. Not when she recognized the other half of the pair as Caramel Hair Girl, who had the bright and significantly less creepy smile.

"Oh my god hi!" Marnie exclaimed, feeling a little more assured. Fuck that guy, who cared about him anyway? "I meant to tell you earlier, that dress looks amazing on you, where did you get it?

The girl, apparently happy to oblige, rattled off a thank you and a store name Marnie couldn't make out over the music. Well, it's not like she was going to buy it anyway. Caramel was pulling it off much better than she could. Distracted by the girl offering a similar compliment (and maybe a little bit by the vodka), Marnie was already forgetting Ash's questions, and to a degree, her presence.