Costume Party in Honor of Lex Luthor's Birthday [OPEN]

[defenestration]

As stated on the invitation, Adrian is throwing a costume party to celebrate Lex's twenty-fifth birthday at the Luthor-Veidt Building in Brock Marsh. Everyone is welcome, whether they know Lex or not. There's plenty of food and free alcohol (mostly wine, fancy beer, and champagne), music and a space for dancing, and room to mingle and make new friends. Some simple and classy decorations, purple of course, have been put up on the first and second floors to create a festive atmosphere.

(A note to those who might try to take the opportunity to go snooping: security is insanely tight. The elevators will not go beyond the first and second floors without a special code, and there's an elevator operator who is very obviously there to make sure you don't try anything funny. The stairwells are likewise under guard and the private areas of the first floor are locked and under camera surveillance.)



[ooc: Please wait until a few threads are set up before tagging! Party time! Everyone is welcome!

Note: I've turned off notifs so if you need my attention in a specific spot, please PM or plurk me.]

Comments

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Told you so." He finally catches a glimpse of the tiara --which up until now he had mistaken as a hair accessory-- and leans over to give it a tiny prod back in place, trying not to mess up her hair. "Third time's an obvious charm. Princess."

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

Her eyes follow his hand upwards and then back down when it returns to his side of the couch. It's less of a matter if he messes up her hair. Her hair will eventually be pulled out from the tight bun it's in just because Cindy will only drink more once she gets up. That's just the way things are.

"But which one?"

Let's up the difficulty on this, shall we?

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Do I look like a Disney know-it-all? God, let me think." And he throws his head back a little dramatically (look, he's had a few himself by this point). "Okay. Your dress is blue. There were two of them with blue dresses, weren't there? Were there?"

He glances her over once more. The hairdo triggers some memory from when he was an itty bitty Nordling and after a moment or two he grins. "Aha! Are you Askepott? I mean, uh --fuck, don't fail me now English-- Cinderella?"

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

"Maybe..." Depends on what version he's thinking of. Cinderella never paid much attention to Disney's retelling of her story. They got so many things wrong, mainly about Prince Charming. In addition, she didn't pay any attention to how they reenacted Briar Rose and Snow White's life either. If she ever gets back to Fabletown, she'll ask them just for curiosity's sake.

Her first reaction to hearing the name Askepott is to widen her eyes. It's been a long while since she's heard her name said in that language. But she quickly remembers her cover and relaxes back into her drunken state, pointing a finger at her friend. "Bingo. Your prize is to get me another drink."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

The Norwegian story involves Cinderella being a better sharp shooter than the Prince and it's part of Christmas TV, every year without fail. Guess which version Asbjørn prefers.

"Anything in particular or are you open to surprises?" He might have something in mind, who is to say.

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

To be frank, that's probably closer to the truth than any other retelling. She actually is a better shot than Prince Charming; too bad she never got to use it on him.

Cindy shrugs out, "Surprise me." This may not end well if he drinks like the Europeans she knows drink.

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

He does indeed drink like most Europeans, but that's not what he's going for. After about the average time it takes to shake up two cocktails, he comes back with two glasses in hand.

"Two fairytales --well, improvised fairytales. They didn't have the exact ingredients. Good vodka, chocolate liqueur, strawberry slices." He hands one over and takes his seat again. "I would have brought you a Cinderella but they're non-alcoholic." Maybe someone, somwhere has an interesting sense of humour.

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

"I would have kicked your ass," Cindy says as she weebles and wobbles in an attempt to sit up fully. Okay, maybe she is drunker than she thought before, but she's still conscious enough to take the drink that's handed to her and down a majority of it before any spills on her dress. She'll be pissed if she ruins this costume. Parts of it can be used again.

"Not bad. Could use more vodka, but that's for the second round."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

Likewise, he slumps down in his seat, getting more comfortable. "As if I would do something that cruel. And it's duly noted."

In the meantime, his mask is pissing him off a little, so he pulls it off fully from where it's been sitting atop his now flattened faux-hawk and balances it on the arm of the sofa. Now the room has the disembodied face of a polar bear to stare at them while they drink.

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

With her elbows leaning on her knees, Cindy sips at her drink around slices of fruit. It's a hard battle and she gives up midway to snatch the mask off the sofa arm, staring it down as if it threatened her. "Why a bear?"

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Why not?" He's not exactly sharp about his answer, but there's clearly something there. Enough to make him study her for a beat. Normally he's good at keeping secrets but right now he's at just the right side of tipsy for his inhibitions to be lowered.

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

"Because you half-assed it?" She's wondering why outloud more than asking him or even answering him. Something about his response bugs her, the little hesitation he gives before answering a question with a question. Cindy's not on her toes enough to call him out on it directly so she takes the next best route. "They were giving free masks. Why buy one if that's all you were going to wear?"

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Half-assed." He almost smiles, before he tips his head back, thinking. At first a few bullshit excuses come to mind. But then again he did see 'Cynthia' hanging around with Ilde before. And Ilde is --well, when he first met her, she boldly sauntered up to him at a bar and poked him about being non-human before declaring herself to be a fairy.

He closes his eyes in what looks like more contemplation, until a moment later when he makes a very distinct low, growling noise. If anyone nearby hears, they can apparently suck it up. "That's why."

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

Most people would just think Ilde and Cindy are an unlikely pair of friends and nothing more than that. They are friends, good ones, but they are more than that. They're two people of non-human kind who connect over similiar makeups. A fae and a fable. Can't get any better than that.

Cindy hears him growl in a way that reminds her of Bigby, but she can't put two and two together to fit right. "What's why?"

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

Well, she is pretty drunk, Asbjørn will give her that. This time he turns to face her a little better. It's partly so he doesn't have to repeat himself, and partly to shut other people out of what's not their business.

"So you've heard of werewolves by now. Well, in my world it's not just limited to wolves. There's were everythings, from what I've been told. Including bears." He makes a tiny jazz-hand motion, before clarifying, "Like me."

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

"Oh."

That's really her honest and genuine reaction. He's a bear in a human's body. Nothing actually new to Cindy, nothing to get worked up over. So she shrugs and slumps back on the couch, handing the mask back to him.

"This ain't a costume." She follows her words up with a wave of the hand. A wobbly wave of the hand.

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

Sort of right; he's both. Human, bear and the inbetween area where both natures bleed into one another. But somehow he doesn't think Cynthia's in the mood for explanations right now.

He's about to laugh at her reaction but her follow-up comment catches his attention first. "You're...what. Royalty?"

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

"Was. The marriage stunk and so did the divorce."

She says that a little too loud at first, only realizing her mistake when a couple walks by close enough to hear the final word of her sentence. They don't notice much without particular details, but still that was a close call. Yeah, even Cindy knows she's too far gone at the moment to be careful about saying too much. It's better she sticks to vague sentences and explanations, things that let any passersby think she's just a normal bitter ex-wife.

"Don't let Disney fool you. There is no happily ever after."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Like anything in life is ever that easy. Especially love." In the meantime he's frowning, caught between thinking she's being allegorical, sincere or simply very drunk. "So... You were actually a princess? Did you meet while in his country or something?"

He's still caught up thinking she comes from L.A. Royal marriages in Norway have fairly egalitarian standards compared to most other places in the world. Marrying non-royals has been par for the course for at least two generations, unlike Britain. It doesn't strike him as being too out there.

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

"You don't get it, do you?" Cindy laughs as she leans closer in towards him. The next part is the kicker, the most important part of the story, the key to everything that happened to her since that one moment. It needs to be whispered in his ear in the lowest of low tones, booze-breath and all. "He found my shoe."

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

He appears silent and stoney-faced after this little revelation, processing what he's just been told. Promptly punctured by an exclamation of, "Faen i Helvete." And then a little bit quieter, "You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

Cindy waves her hand again, flopping backwards with her legs stretched out so she can wiggle her French manicured toes. "I'm too drunk to be pulling anybody's leg, including my own."

She's not sure why she told him, other than he's also not completely human. That was her reasoning for telling Ilde. It's a relief though to have one less person to fake your identity for. Speaking about that...

Twisting her fist in his sleeve, she pulls him by it to get him close again. "Don't go and tell people my name's really Cindy and not Cynthia now because I'll punch you repeatedly in the face for it." She so fucking would too.

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Wouldn't dream of it. But I hope you're willing to extend that both ways." And he gives her a knowing look, before his voice drops again. "Unless you want to see my head stuffed and mounted by those Concerned Citizens cocksuckers."

He's perhaps just a little too still as he eyes those in the nearby vicinity. "Don't get me wrong --I only like my burgers a little rawer than most. But I don't think anyone is too hung up on distinctions right now. Despite whatever bullshit the pamphlets are spouting."

[fuckyouboots.livejournal.com]

"Bears gotta eat too, but at long as they don't eat the people I plan on having one night stands with, I don't give a shit. Do you and I do me. And stick to calling me Cynthia in public. Cindy is find if it's just between us."

Her reasoning is simple and she will keep this secret of his close to her chest. It's a fair trade between friends.

[sailorofthefloe.livejournal.com]

"Deal." And he raises his glass in a little toast to the arrangement before taking a drink. After a moment's pause, he starts talking again. "A few other people are in on it. You know Ilde, right? There's Ki, who you might have seen on the network. And Ruby -she came here two months ago, about the same time as me."