Alice (Whitlock) Cullen (
manicpixiedreamgirl) wrote in
sirenspull_logs2012-12-31 08:34 pm
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Entry tags:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
Who: Anyone!
When: 5 pm to...when everyone goes back in time at midnight.
Where: Alice's shop in Sector 3
Summary: New Year's Eve paaaaartay
Warnings: Make your own
[Alice's boutique, normally decorated in floral blacks and whites (prospective bridal clients like florals, usually), has been entirely transformed for the night. Thanks in no small part to Kurt's genius, the entire place decorated in beautiful blacks and golds. The place looks more like a high end night club than anything else. The jet black chandelier is hung with gold chains connected to the walls at various places, creating a shining web above the dance floor.
The handful of small dress racks there are have been emptied, and the few pieces of furniture there are have been pushed (artfully) to the walls. In their place are a few tall tables for people to congregate and converse around. The dance floor takes up most of the room, though, and a DJ is tucked in the corner ready to take requests.
Upstairs in the loft there's an extensive buffet, with everything from sushi to quiche, and a full bar up against the wall. And, because Alice is a good Sanguinarian, there's also a cooler under the bar specifically for guests who don't drink...wine. There are also a few sit-down tables if you want to actually sit down to stuff your face.
As for the hostess herself, she'll be fluttering around the most of the night, making sure everything is absolutely perfect. She's preoccupied, but she's still free to talkyour ear off if anyone were to pull her aside.]
[OOC: Feel free to use the threads already up, or make your own! Have fun y'all.]
When: 5 pm to...when everyone goes back in time at midnight.
Where: Alice's shop in Sector 3
Summary: New Year's Eve paaaaartay
Warnings: Make your own
[Alice's boutique, normally decorated in floral blacks and whites (prospective bridal clients like florals, usually), has been entirely transformed for the night. Thanks in no small part to Kurt's genius, the entire place decorated in beautiful blacks and golds. The place looks more like a high end night club than anything else. The jet black chandelier is hung with gold chains connected to the walls at various places, creating a shining web above the dance floor.
The handful of small dress racks there are have been emptied, and the few pieces of furniture there are have been pushed (artfully) to the walls. In their place are a few tall tables for people to congregate and converse around. The dance floor takes up most of the room, though, and a DJ is tucked in the corner ready to take requests.
Upstairs in the loft there's an extensive buffet, with everything from sushi to quiche, and a full bar up against the wall. And, because Alice is a good Sanguinarian, there's also a cooler under the bar specifically for guests who don't drink...wine. There are also a few sit-down tables if you want to actually sit down to stuff your face.
As for the hostess herself, she'll be fluttering around the most of the night, making sure everything is absolutely perfect. She's preoccupied, but she's still free to talk
[OOC: Feel free to use the threads already up, or make your own! Have fun y'all.]
no subject
Perhaps I should leave you in peace.
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I've told you not to do that, it makes you look helpless and pathetic.
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[He doesn't even remember anything about himself, and there's still this crushing sense of uselessness and despair that hangs over him when he stops to think about, which he tries not to. But he is helpless and pathetic, that much is obvious even without his memory.]
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[It's said sharply, in a commanding tone that he hasn't used in a few weeks -- mostly because Crowley, as he is now, can't command much of anything, but he can at least act like it, god dammit. And he does, in lowering his hand to curl into Castiel's arm, eyes narrowed.]
If anyone is helpless and pathetic, it's me, and you don't see me wandering about like someone's going to run me over with a Prius, do you? I still rule Hell and you still -- well, spoilers, but you aren't as helpless and pathetic as your idiotic guardians tend to let you think.
[Fucking Winchesters.]
no subject
Except he is, because he doesn't remember how to be an angel, and even if he did he's still useless in the ways that count. He's lost and confused, and apparently incapable of being any help to even someone who was once his friend.
He stares back at Crowley, unable to maintain any sort of even expression, clearly confused and a little alarmed and upset, but at the same time there's something familiar about this. Something about being this close is just making him more confused, because he can't figure out what and why he's feeling what he is.]
You're not helpless and pathetic.
[He finally offers the response, quietly.]
no subject
He's horrible at this.
Crowley is silent before he purses his lips together and lets go of Castiel's arm, moving his hands to Castiel's sides to pull him forward a little, off of the wall.]
You're going to freak yourself out even more if you stay up against the wall like that.
[It's murmured, as he tugs his jacket a little straighter.]
Sorry to say, but you've got issues.
no subject
I'm fine.
[It's all he can really manage to say, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jacket as they begin to shake just a little, too many emotions and too much confusion all building up at once.]
I shouldn't have issues if I don't remember them.
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Don't count your chickens before they hatch, kitten.
[And he lets his hands slide off of his ribs, to settle at Crowley's own sides.]
Just stay away from tight spaces.
no subject
I don't have any chickens.
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[He needs another drink.]
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[Hm.]
Why shouldn't I count it?
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[And Crowley pulls another drink toward him from an innocent waiter, amused.]
And yet.
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[He frowns slightly at the taking of another drink, but says nothing about it.]
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[Pot, meet kettle -- and as Crowley notices the look on his face, he looks briefly irritated, and he doesn't take a sip of his drink.
Not yet, anyway.]
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[Which is terrified and withdrawn, and involves a lot of staring at the floor.]
no subject
[He tweaks Castiel's collar, fingers brushing against his shoulder.]
You can be honest with me. Likely no one else.