DISSENSION -> in our prime

 
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 in our prime, new years eve 2025, ronty
25 | Fringe | Anarchists
R.J.
Coroner, Informant Whitefish, Montana Single Played by Shawna
shipper dragots 4600
"I'll get us some more," Reagan yelled in her friend's ear, grabbing her cup before slipping through the throng of jumping bodies on her way to the kitchen. The lights were down and colored strobes pulsed through clouds of smoke. The band roared on from a corner of the room, furniture pushed aside and stacked to make room, not enough room, for everyone in attendance. Friends and strangers flowed in and out of the house, couples and trios making their way up an down the stairs, taking turns in locked bedrooms. The front door and all the windows were wide open, but the air was sticky sweet with sweat and booze and drugs.

There was still plenty of time until midnight. Between the pre-game, and the bar, and however long they had spent at the party, Reagan was well beyond inebriated. The scent of her perfume had long dissipated and the limits of her waterproof makeup were being tested. She ran her fingers along the wall to maintain her balance as she dipped into the kitchen. The blaring music faded slightly and the room seemed to be a few degrees cooler. She took a deep breath to steady herself, eyes blinking to clarity.

A slender figure obscured the barrel, surely sweaty palms trying to manipulate the tap. Reagan leaned against the wall, along with the rest of the party-goers who were impatiently waiting, their cups empty and their buzzes steadily dropping. After what seemed like forever, but was realistically only a few seconds, she pushed herself off of the wall and meandered up to the boy and the keg.

"What's so taking long?" she half slurred, half shouted over the music. She nearly shoved him aside - she knew that she could tap it faster even if she was drunk. Shit, she was drunk.

TAG @MONTGOMERY FITZPATRICK

May 2 2018, 11:29 PM
26 | Magical | Neutral
Monty
Security Guard Seattle, Washington Desperate Whore Played by Lana
shipper dragots 9600
Though the night was young it was already a blur, memories sifting through his fingers like ribbons of cold water. Consequences held no weight in his consciousness, but he wore the proof of what he’d done.Cocaine painted the whites of his eyes pink, the neck of his shirt sagged towards his chest, either grasped in a moment of lust or violence - he failed to identify which. A hello kitty bandaid clung to the palm of his hand, covering a fresh, spherical burn left behind by the glowing embers of a girl’s careless marlboro.

It was difficult, he realized, to tap the keg while encumbered by such an injury. Or at least that was the excuse he’d give, though truth be told it was just too fucking hard to make sense of the pump while he was this plastered.

An assertive voice interrupted his struggle, a bony hip clashing against his to knock his limp body out of the way. He blinked, fighting to bring the newcomer into sharper focus. Blonde, long legs, full lips, round eyes, drunk as fuck and thoroughly pissed off. His lips split in a grin.

He lifted his hand in surrender, dropping the red cup he’d been brandishing fruitlessly towards the barrell. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He slurred, chortling at his own foolish choice of words. “Go on. Show me how it’s done.”

Jun 9 2018, 04:24 PM
25 | Fringe | Anarchists
R.J.
Coroner, Informant Whitefish, Montana Single Played by Shawna
shipper dragots 4600
He stepped aside as she hip checked him, not doing much to put up a fight. He was as fucked up as she was, maybe a bit more, as she noticed a smudge of white at the corner of his nose, but her focus waned as his cup bounced on the floor, clattering to a stop a few feet away.

She stepped up to the keg and, despite her inebriated state and a bit of fumbling, her muscle memory kicked in and tapped it. She was smug - overly proud of herself for something that didn’t require much skill, but she was having a good night, and this was just one more gold star for her book.

“I’m not wearing any, big boy,” she said with a cheeky grin as the cheap, frothy beer poured into her cup, spilling over her hand as she held it at a lazy angle, as she looked up from the tap at the boys face. Ohmygod,” she uttered, as his face found itself in her memory.


Jun 10 2018, 11:29 PM
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