MASQUERADE PARTY

[masqueradeparty]

[the day of the party has arrived!

right around dinnertime, fairies will try to round up every single character and gesture, lead, or pull them towards the courtyard. there, the miniature castle has finally been completed! there are fairy lights and beautiful singing all around you, and it looks like there's some kind of a party going on in the castle, but...

...but it's still so tiny. how could you possibly get in there? it would be hard just to get your hand through the front door!

but the fairies will persist, and as soon as a character steps into the fairy ring...

they find themselves in the ballroom.

this post has been forward-dated to tonight, of course, so mingle in the comment sections and have a fun time with the different rooms.]

SECTION LINKS FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE:
• The Ballroom
• Side Rooms
• The Garden
• The Altar

Comments

[samson]

[He stays where he is, rubbing at her legs.]

You do it when you're sober, too.

[molotov]

No.

[samson]

I'm pretty sure you do, Molotov.

[molotov]

No.

[samson]

[squint...] Don't be a baby.

[molotov]

[She's mumbling into the pillows.] 'm not.

[samson]

You are. You give me blowjobs all the damn time. You even started swallowing!

[molotov]

Then I won't anymore.

[samson]

No, why would you say that?

[molotov]

Because you are mean.

[samson]

What? I just got you off, I'm so fucking nice.

[molotov]

You only did it so I would re... resi... respip... do the same thing to you.

[samson]

That's a lie.

[He grabs her hips and tries to like, half-heartedly pull her up next to him again.]

Come here and I'll do it again, I'll show you.

[molotov]

Nyet, I'm tired. [She's whining, and letting her body act as dead weight.]

[samson]

[Noooo! Brock keeps tuggin' at her.]

So? I'm the one who's gonna be doing stuff. Just lie back and let me do it, huh?

[molotov]

I don't wanna, Brock!

[She continues acting like a piece of lead.]

[samson]

[He abruptly lets go of her.]

What, are you saying ... I'm not good at it or something? Fuck you.

[molotov]

Nyet, stop. I'm tired.

[samson]

[That's not acceptable!!! Brock huffs and smokes angrily at his cigarette.]

Fine.

[molotov]

[Molotov lies there silently for a moment, then shifts.]

Fine. Don't move me too much.

[samson]

[Give him a second! He's a little buzzed.]

Fine ... what? Really?

[molotov]

Just... don't move me around.

[Read: she's probably going to fall asleep during.]

[samson]

[It doesn't matter!!! He's just excited now!]

Well, alright!

[He has to move her a little, though, she's like all curled up and stuff. He gently moves her legs, stretching them out on the sofa, and pushed her skirt up a little.]

Is that fine?

[molotov]

'Sfine.

[She's already almost asleep.]

[samson]

[Wow, what a jerk! Brock pauses in messing around with her clothes and just squints at her face.]

I'm not gonna do it if you're gonna nap.