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Post by magnus on Aug 20, 2009 15:18:20 GMT -5
The party was bustling already. It had only started at ten, an hour and a half ago, and the apartment was nearly cracking under the pressure from so many people. He was pleased with the outcome--there were not as many troublemakers as there usually were, but just enough to keep things interesting. The theme for the night was "rockstar". He hadn't been bothered to get into much costume. He'd thrown on a pair of silver-glitter, star-shaped "rockstar" glasses and lined the walls of his apartment with guitars of all shapes and sizes. He'd gone for the skinny jean look, however, and found the tightest pair of white jeans that he owned. It was a miracle that he squeezed into them, frankly, but it worked nonetheless.
He sat in one of the "pod" chairs (or, as he liked to call them, "the annoying, useless, egg-shaped chairs"), legs crossed and bouncing his foot lightly to the music. A vampire and half-fairy had joined him over some drinks, but he was paying more attention to what was going on outside of his apartment at the moment. A storm had been brewing at around eight, and had hit full force about now. No sign of thunder or lightning yet, but he was sure that any moment now the crackling and lights would flash across the sky. The rain came down hard--it was romantic, in that sort of way that only happened in poor romance novels.
Fortunately, he wasn't one for sappy romance novels. The warlock tore his gaze away from the window, nodding politely along as the two before him continued to chat. He raised the glass to his lips, downing more alcohol and pretending not to notice the group of boys who were quite clearly grinning at the pictures of Alec that he had on one of the shelves. He sniffed, having half a mind to kick them out then, but then slowly rose and excused himself to mingle among the guests. He would end up turning someone into a rat if he had to listen to any more of how much potato soup a half-fairy could choke down before giving into stomach acid.
Two vampires, a hippie werewolf, and three very unconventional witches later, he was back at the kitchen counter, mixing himself another drink. It had to be the times like these that made him actually wish that the Scooby-Doo Gang--er, what he affectionately called Alec's friends--would show up and beg for help of some sort.
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Post by bris on Aug 21, 2009 5:47:30 GMT -5
WHY DID IT ALWAYS RAIN?
Why, oh why, did it always rain when she found herself travelling to a new place alone? Take this boutique, for example. Her mother frequented the store and sent Bristol to pick up a jacket that arrived later than the rest of the special order. On the way the clouds had opened up and relentlessly tore at her skin with the dull nails known as rain. All three times that she passed the store a car had driven by, throwing up a wave of water to finish her death by H2O.
Now, on the way to the apartment of the infamous High Warlock of Brooklyn, rain fell sideways thanks to the wind. The numbers on the flats blurred indecipherably with the sheer amount of liquid dripping kin front of her eyes. But that looked like the right one... Pressing her ear against the door after scurrying under the awning type thing, the teen could make out the distinct sound of a party going on upstairs. She squeaked and jumped back when the door gave way and swung open to reveal a man with silver skin and green hair that looked suspiciously like moss. He didn't say anything; he just looked at her funny and slipped past her.
Well, the door was opened..
The stairs creaked beneath her feet and heavy bass thrummed in her ears as she crept up the stairs, second thoughts racing through her head. Tracking down this damn warlock--"who better not be able to read minds"-- had been more trouble than she felt he deserved.
Biting the inside of her cheek, the brunette pushed open the door at the top of the stairs. And then she stared. The room was filled to the brim with people who'd long since figured out the secret to moving as one distinct body without stepping on someone else's foot. It amazed her to see the sheer amount of "mythical" creatures packed into a room and having a good time.
It was so not fair that she was here on business-- and had no idea what the person she was looking for looked like.
&&&
Eventually, she found him in the kitchen. He was easy to spot, actually, what with the hot pink and the fact that he'd opted to make his own drink safely in his kitchen rather than trust the bar in the corner of the main room. The drink they'd offered her had looked a hell of a lot like the poison Snow White's apple had been dunked in.
Now that she'd found the person responsible for her being there, it occurred to her to notice how absolutely drenched she was: her bangs stuck to her forehead, her shoes squeaked, and everything seemed to drip. She probably looked awful. Maybe it would earn her a sympathy vote.
Oh well, here went nothing. "I hear you're the guy to come to when in need of magical help."
[/color] Bris phrased it as a question, delivered it as a statement. She thoroughly pleased herself by not sounding pathetically hopeless. ---------- TAGGED!? Magnus friggin Bane <3
WEARING WHAT NOW!? No link yet, sorry!
LISTENING TO!? “Hot Mess” Cobra Starship
WORD COUNT!? 513 if Microsoft is to be trusted.
BABBLE AND NOTES!? Edited for prettyfullness
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Post by magnus on Aug 21, 2009 23:04:41 GMT -5
He'd been trying to convince himself to stop the awkward teenage vampire from asking the woman with the frog for a head what she was, but he'd been a little too distracted by Chairman Meow to do anything about it. His cat was sitting on the counter, watching the warlock as he made his drink. He looked thoroughly annoyed. Eh. He'd deal with that in a moment. Magnus paused, sweeping over to the refrigerator and pulling open the freezer. The mist swirled up into his face for a moment as he retrieved the ice cube rack--the new one which, Alec had discovered to his mortification, produced heart-shaped ice cubes--and kicked it shut before lazing back over to the counter.
"I don't know why you're so annoyed," the warlock muttered, nodding in the cat's direction as he plopped the ice in a separate glass. "It's your party, after all," he added, pouting as the feline grumbled and headed off into the bedroom. He blew a few strands of hair out of his eyes, a little glitter shaking off of him and falling to the ground, and then moved back to the fridge. After digging through several racks of unnecessary drinks, he pulled out a jug of sparkling water and poured it into the second glass that he had set out. Finally, he was done, and he leaned against the counter, sipping the alcoholic drink and leaving the water to sit idly by.
Human? What was she doing here? His eyes snapped upward to meet the girl who stood in front of him. As she spoke, his catlike eyes surveyed her. "How unfortunate," he muttered, glancing at the puddle of water that was beginning to form on the floor. "You're dripping on my floor." He sniffed once, and then set his drink back on the counter. A frown twitched at his face, but he brushed it off, and looked back to the soaking girl in the middle of his kitchen. Funnily enough, this wasn't exactly what he had meant by a little adventure. He would've much preferred to have a visit from the Scooby-Doo gang.
But what was a human doing there? Quite obviously, she had the sight; otherwise, she wouldn't have been looking for answers (unless she was a flustered neighbor of some sort, which was possible, considering the usual noise level of his apartment). He looked her up and down one more time. "I don't recall inviting you," he added, hoping she would catch his drift and leave the party. He wasn't in the mood to deal with drenched teenagers who much resembled sewer rats.
But, ah, he supposed Alec would be at him for it later.
"What do you want?" he asked, sounding vaguely annoyed and crossing his arms over his chest. He nodded a little towards the dance floor, more glitter falling out of his sparkling hair. "A dance? A drink?" A question? Spit it out, girl. "I have those appealing little parasols." He held a bright blue one up between his forefinger and thumb and twirled it a bit.
NOTES ?!
this. sucks. ass. D:
sorry.
my magnus muse is low as. ): |
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Post by bris on Aug 22, 2009 21:38:38 GMT -5
OKAY. UM. WOW. CAT EYES. Bris totally hadn’t been expecting to see the slitted eyes of a feline in the sockets of a fellow human. Or, at least, someone who looked human. For all she knew, Magnus Bane could have been a flamingo under one of his own spells so he’d be able to blend in with society. She suddenly felt the need to hope that if a talking flamingo did happen to get loose in New York, someone would notice, freak out, and then catch it and post videos of it on YouTube. She blinked once, silently chasing after her train of thought until she grasped it firmly in her mental fingers.
Upon being informed that she was dripping on his floor, the girl crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. She bit her tongue to keep from saying the duh that that comment clearly called for. Breathe in. Breathe out. Okay, good-- her head hadn’t exploded. Yet. “Yes, I know I’m dripping on you floor. I apologize for that. Sadly, I can’t control the weather. If I did, global warming wouldn’t be an issue.”
[/color] The sarcastic shield was up. She turned over whether that was a good thing or a bad thing for a nanosecond before dismissing it as unimportant to the situation at hand. While the High Warlock busied himself with assessing the factor five violation that was her appearance-- or that’s what she assumed he was doing-- she ran her fingers through her hair in a self conscious attempt to help the situation. Her fingers abandoned the action almost instantly. Of course he’d realize he hadn’t invited her. She’d realized while roaming through the party goers that she stood out like a sore thumb just as much as her name stood out on a school roster. Nonetheless, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded flier that had somehow managed to avoid getting waterlogged. Bristol carefully unfolded the green paper as to not get it wet, and turned the writing towards its writer. “You may not have invited me, but a friend gave me their invitation and told me to tell you that I was to take his place for the evening.”[/color] And, unbelievable as that may have been, it was how things went down. A rogue werewolf-- Caleb-- frequented the Chinese restaurant that she just so happened to live above and they’d gotten to talking one day while he awaited his order. The servers did tend to be a little on the slow side. He’d passed on the invite to her almost immediately after receiving it, admitting that parties just didn’t mesh with his quiet personality. The shower of glitter that fell from his hair caused the corner of her lips to twitch upward. It reminded her far too much of how pixie dust had been represented in Peter Pan, which led her to believe that he’d recently either gotten into a fight with a pixie or fucked one. The smile remained-- or more precisely, grew-- when he held up one of the little drink umbrellas. “In order: I want to know why I can see you, because I’ve gathered that plain old humans like myself aren’t supposed to be able to see you guys; I’d love to dance with you, but you’re not my type, sorry; a drink would be wonderful! If only I were legal; and lastly, I see that you have little parasols. Very classy.”[/color] Had she been closer, she would have plucked the parasol from his fingers and stuck it in the ribbon-y band wrapped around his hat. Even if he towered over her by more than a foot. ---------- TAGGED!? The awesomeness known as Magnus
WEARING WHAT NOW!? I promise I’ll think of something in the morning!
LISTENING TO!? “Homecoming Queen” Hinder
WORD COUNT!? 615 I think
BABBLE AND NOTES!? Pardon the randomness-- I’m tired.
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