fandomhighdorms | Francine's Birthday Party, Sixth Floor Common Room, Thursday Late Afternoon/Evening

Katchoo had felt justified in blowing most of her last paycheck on food for this party, because this was a girl who would eat half-raw macaroni and cheese if left to her own devices and you really didn't want her cooking. It helped to have a radio cohost who ran the diner ~~and could be shamelessly self-modded~~ and had the weirdest mushy soft spot for her and Francine, so she'd been able to call in favors from Lacey, who'd supplied trays of sandwiches, salads, a couple of fancy-looking pasta dishes, and a large chocolate and raspberry mousse cake.

She'd thought setting up for the party would be a lot harder, but . . . eh, this wasn't the kind of party that you had just to see how many high-profile politicians you could get blackmail material on in one night. Simple enough. And as far as Katchoo was concerned, a hell of a lot more important.

The music for the night was a combination of Griffin Silver and the Beatles, there was extra room on the tables for food in case anyone else felt like bringing stuff, Clocky made occasional tweeting circuits of the room, and the ball pit was there for you if you needed it.

And Katchoo was even around, her usual diffident expression dialed down half a notch. The things we do for love, man.

. . . and then a bed of plastic squirt flowers sprang up in one corner of the room near the ballpit. Sigh. Happy frikkin' April Fool's.

[OOC: Up eeeeeeeeearly for SP, ~~with the caveat that thatsamilkshake will be AFK until evening EST~~ and can has a birthday girl! ~~Wait for the OCD or I'mma sic Clocky on you~~ OCD is up, party is open, huzzah and go forth and all that jazz.]

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For the people (previously arranged or otherwise) helping Katchoo set up. She'll even kind of act like she likes you for the time being! Well. She might actually like you, but that's classified. Or something.

You know what to do here. YOU DO KNOW, RIGHT? GEEZ.

No neurotic diner owners were actually harmed in the shaking-down for the goodies, even though Katchoo had far too much fun doing the shaking down.

It's so delicious and moist. Look at her still talking when there's science to do. When she looks out there, it makes her glad she's not you.

Aside from the one Lacey sent, there . . . might be a couple of others . . .

Once she pings in. For the good of all of us. ~~Except the ones who are dead.~~

You know you wanna. Katchoo won't even throw the balls at you. Well, probably. The plastic squirt flowers, on the other hand . . .

It's there. Frikkin' use it.

Because there's no sense crying over every mistake.

Please, like you were getting out of this OCD without multiple gratuitous "Still Alive" references. THE CAKE IS A LIE. No, wait, it's not.

Turning off notifications, OMG, tag me here if you need . . . uh . . . any one of all four of my . . . yeah. *sigh* Look, I relinquished any claim to the notion that I have sanity a long, long time ago.

Well, of course they knew what to do there!

Arthur, for example, was an expert on arriving and mingling right now. He did so in style (and one of his more royal-looking jackets, for that matter).

You didn't spend a weekend as a small child on the hunt for chocolate plants in the preserve with someone and not go to their birthday party, in Tahiri's opinion, and she liked Francine enough to risk the possibility of tolerating that Tiny Creepy Kid nickname for the night. Or getting snuck up on by Gabrielle.

She'd even put on a new set of robes for the occasion. So . . . a slightly less faded set of shades of brown and tan.

And oh, hey, Gabrielle had shown up too, still a bit rumpled from trying to do some minor damage to Emmett for his frightening Richard Simmons prank at the club meeting.

What? She had to. Out of some vague sense of obligation.

Karla hadn't actually promised to help set up, but she'd been tasked with getting a bunch of decorations and things and kind of assumed that this was a continuation of that.

So she was there with balloons and streamers and whatever the heck else, grateful that she hadn't accidentally dropped another jar of glitter into the air vents again.

After helping with the setup, Karla began the ever-important 'mingling' part of the evening. She was also dressed nicely, having branched out beyond her usual blue in honor of Francine's birthday.

Or something.

And also hoping no one was going to bring up yesterday's debacle.

Firekeeper did indeed know what to do. As did Blind Seer, since Francine was on the very short list of People He'd Attend Parties For.

Kennedy had shown up, too, because clearly someone was looking for trouble. Or, you know, just wanted to be supportive and stuff and totally thought she could take Francine's girlfriend if she had an issue with her. Whatever. (Not that it was going to happen. Lucky you.)

The music was, again, not really to her taste but she could deal.

"Geez," Katchoo noted from where she was shoving tables together, "what the hell didja do? Buy out the store?"

Karla looked down at Katchoo, confused. "I wanted to make sure we had enough," she replied. "Besides, it's Francine's party. It should be...festive."

"Relax. I'm not complaining." It just sounded like she was. Katchoo was difficult that way. "I'm impressed you went all out."

"Besides," she added with one last nudge to the table she was moving, "you're right. Francine deserves one hell of a festive party. Senior year, last birthday in Fandom, all that."

And with any luck, there wouldn't be public nudity involved.

Oh, $*@!, did you just jinx it, Chewie?

ARE THERE BROWNIES INVOLVED?!

"Are you guys leaving right after graduation?" Karla asked. "Or are you going to stick around for the rest of the summer, at least?"

She just kind of took it as a given that, whenever they left, they'd be going together.

Oh, Karla. Brownies are not a prerequisite for accidental public nudity when Francine's involved. Trust Katchoo on this.

"Dunno." Katchoo, who also took it as a given, glanced around the common room with what could have been a brief, wistful smile if you squinted just right. "She --" by which she actually meant both of them -- "loves it here. I think we'll end up sticking around as long as possible."

Mat was ready to arrive and mingle--not that he'd done much more than flirt casually with Francine in the past--because parties are Not to Be Missed.

And people were always glad to see him, right? Ooh, Kennedy!

Francine was both his roommate's fake sibling and his AU-version-of-his-BFF-practically-brother's fake sibling, which was a pretty good reason, as far as Bobby was concerned, for him to show up.

Especially since ~~soliciting hugs from~~ talking to Jean yesterday had put him in something of a better mood regarding the whole Rampage mess.

Oh, yeah, Kennedy was real thrilled to see him. Okay, okay, she wasn't jumping for joy or anything, but you had to at least acknowledge a guy who'd kicked some wolfy ass with you. (No offense, Firekeeper and Blind Seer.)

"Yo, Mat," she acknowledged, waving the hand that wasn't currently holding a ridiculous amount of grape tomatoes.

Katchoo . . . might be peering around Arthur for some evidence of the threatened horse. "No red carpet for you, your Highness," she informed him dryly. "There wasn't one that came in exactly the right shade you wanted on short notice."

Karla missed the grin that might have been, mostly because she was also giving the room a fond glance. "Considering how dead-set I was against leaving Glacia...I'm almost surprised how much I've come to love this place." She blushed, not wanting Katchoo to think she was a maudlin idiot. "I'll be sad when you all leave."

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Francine's Birthday Party, Sixth Floor Common Room, Thursday Late Afternoon/Evening

Setup: Before the Party

Arrive/Mingle

Food!

Cake!

Talk to the Birthday Girl!

Ballpit

Dance Floor

OOC

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