PARTY PARTY PARTY

[allie]

CHAT DEMANDS IMPROMPTU IC PARTY FOR THE WIN AND THE LULZ

LET'S GO!  JOIN IN!


At the end of the day, your character is led back to their room in the usual manner.  The nurse's hand reaches for the doorknob and the door swings open, then--

Poof!

Your character appears in a large ballroom with an exquisitely tiled floor and a large stone fountain in the center.  The centerpiece of the fountain, shaped like a large fish, continually emits a spray of glitter from its open mouth.  Several tables covered with crisp white tablecloths are positioned near the walls, and a jar of sharpie brand glitter-paint markers serves as a colorful centerpiece for each.

Against the far wall is a long, rectangular table, with two bowls of red punch.  A sign written in fancy calligraphy rests against each: Yes, and No.  In addition to the punch, there are bottles of every liquor imaginable, as well as several fine wines and packs of cigarettes (though partygoers will have to fight for a single lighter).

The bathroom to one side bears a creepy resemblance to the bathroom in a normal house, complete with a medicine cabinet worthy of a lonely 50's housewife.

On the other side are a series of doors leading to rooms.

CURRENT SUB-ROOMS:

Bathroom
Office
Room of Mystical Legal Aging
Vegas Hotel
Broom Closet
Walk-in Freezer

If your character goes into a room, please put that room in the subject line.  Rooms are lockable.  If you want a room that isn't listed, tell me and I'll give it to you.  XD




Since this is not an actual damned event and is not srs bzns, feel free to join in with a character that from another rp if you're a potential player.  If this is the case, instead of entering through a door in the institute, your player would enter through a random door in the RP from whence they came.  XD  EDIT:  Party is now also for trying out potential characters.

The YES punch smells and tastes alcoholic, and has the same effect as a normal spiked drink.  The NO punch smells and tastes like normal non-alcoholic party punch.  IF YOUR CHARACTER DRINKS THE NO PUNCH, IM ME AT QUANTIFYTHIS AND I WILL TELL YOU ITS EFFECT.

THE FIRST RULE OF THE PARTY IS DON'T BE LAME.  THE SECOND RULE OF THE PARTY IS SRSLY, DON'T BE LAME.


FORMER MUSIC
FORMER MUSIC
CURRENT MUSIC
(music will be updated when Allie is not lazy and people give requests)

SMALL PRINT:  Powers and weapons are go as long as whoever you're using them on is cool with it.  Continuity from previous damned parties is intact if you want it to be, or not intact if you don't want it to be.  Clothing is whatever your character wore in canon, whatever they should have worn in canon, whatever they wore in their rp game, or whatever isn't in the dryer.  This impromptu chat party will last until everyone gets bored.

prose plz

Comments

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Touche, Wright. But then again, isn't imitation supposed to be a form of flattery? With that he switched sides, nipping again, and harder this time. If it left a mark, well, that wasn't his fault, now, was it? No, it most certainly wasn't. "What was that you said about copying?"

He didn't give Phoenix a chance to respond before moving up to his ear, flicking his tongue over that lobe. "No, really. What was it? I'd love to hear."

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

The hard pressure bloomed to a sting, then slowly down to a tingle -- not that Phoenix even had time to process that before that voice was at his ear, all honeyed courtesy and challenge. He shivered, groaning frustration.

"Honest question," he managed throatily, show of resistance betrayed by the way he did not make any movement away, or even obliquely. Not that he easily could have, practically pinned as he was, but it was possible. Still, for the moment it didn't even occur to him, the parts of his brain he liked to consider clever and innovative neatly drowned by those chanting more, more, more.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

"Was it?" There was that taunting laugh again, but this time a little more ragged, a little less composed and careful. It shattered that air of feigned indignance - if it hadn't already been shattered. Miles wasn't entirely sure, and if he was honest about it? He didn't care.

He changed positions again, moving down and kissing the same spot he'd nipped at a moment earlier, then moved back up, positioning himself just millimeters away from Phoenix's lips. "Somehow, I doubt that."

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

He smirked, hand sliding up the thick cloth of the vest to grasp the band where it crossed Miles' shoulder, still shaking loose flecks of glitter that obligingly scattered across Phoenix's shirt. Whenever they finally left this room, there wasn't going to be much of a question as to what exactly had taken them so long.

"I'm not surprised," he murmured wryly, and pulled himself up to the taunting, barely-denied mouth before the turbulence of breath and words palpable against his kiss-sensitive lips could drive him any deeper into distraction.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Miles pushed deeper and harder into the kiss, with a low noise that was by thirds approval, desire, and anticipation. He was vaguely aware that he was still sparkly, and probably transferring a lot of that glitter, but that had stopped mattering quite a while ago.

And when, exactly, had his hand moved from its position on his back and slipped under that blue jacket, almost-but-not-quite gripping his shirt? That didn't matter, either. In fact, it made it easier to press Phoenix closer.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

It was hard for Phoenix to entirely mute the curiosity always sparking at the back of his mind -- how many times had they done this already? What had he done before? He could guess at what he might have done two years ago. How he would have reacted, back when the world was still so big and bright and any moment ready to burst open at the seams. Back when he was still half-awed with his own ability to pull down giants. He could imagine how a situation like this would have struck him then, back before really knowing for himself the terrifying, immutable truth of locks and ransoms and the madmen() who wielded them. Back before he knew just how helpless he could feel.

For a split-second, he wondered if Miles was actually aware of who he was kissing.

But no. Edgeworth wasn't stupid. He knew about the intervening years. He might have pursued him based only on a person he remembered, but . . . well. Hadn't Phoenix himself done something similar? At that thought he smiled slightly against the kiss, sinking another few inches toward the desk, pulling Edgeworth with him. They could both be right. It had happened before.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

There were those memories again, brought back by Phoenix's action. It was hard to reconcile that two-year time gap with the fact that there were things that hadn't changed. He could still smile - an actual smile, not a smirk or a grin or a sneer - even when his lips were otherwise engaged, just as he had before.

Miles didn't know every detail of that two-year gap, but he thought he had a grasp on the more important details. Those two years couldn't have been easy. You didn't come out of a difficult situation without it leaving its mark.

I'm glad you didn't end up so frustrated and so angry at yourself that you chose to run away from the world rather than face it. I did enough of that for the both of us.

He pulled away long enough to get a full breath, then kissed Phoenix again, this time with renewed enthusiasm. At the same time, Miles bent low and pressed him down against the desk's surface.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Phoenix actually sunk back gratefully; the leaning would have been fine, but with all of the pushing and pulling it was starting to make his shoulder tired. Besides -- this finally freed up his hands again, which he considered nothing but a good thing. Not that he remembered this right away. In truth, he was so blissfully wrapped up in a kiss that had begun to creep from merely 'impassioned' toward the territory of 'lingual inspection of dental work,' that the broad, certain hands pressing him down did nothing but elicit a small shiver and noise of encouragement.

Only then did he realize that he had two hands again and reached between then, finding the broad, fabric-covered buttons of Miles' vest and working them open impatiently. He finished and ran his hands down the front of his shirt, along the dips and planes of his body finally palpable beneath the thin, warm cloth. Better. Much better.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Those light touches sent another jolt of electricity racing down Miles' body, and there was no stopping the shiver and moan that came with it. Even if he could have, he didn't want to stop that reaction - all he wanted at that moment was to encourage Phoenix to do that again and do it now.

It was in that spirit that he broke the kiss and pulled away, a teasing smile coming over his face. He slipped out of his suit jacket and tossed it onto the desk. There. That was more like it.

That smile stayed fixed as he bent down again, this time only briefly kissing Phoenix's lips before moving down to his neck again.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Until the coat rustled into a heap off to one side, Phoenix hadn't really given that much thought to how big this desk was. But it was impressive. Broad. The thought occurred to him, somewhere the split-second of fine hair brushing his temple and breath on his neck, that it looked awfully sturdy, too.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa, back up, just what do you think you're suggest-ohgod. The upright and moral protests of his inner monologue stopped abruptly the second Miles' mouth went back to his neck, and he found himself half-gripping the backing of his vest in response, groaning and pressing the nails of bent fingers in long, straight lines down the black silk.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Miles looked up, feigning surprise at that reaction. "Like that, Wright?" He didn't have to ask, and he knew they both knew it. He just wanted to hear what the answer would be.

It was tempting to make him wait, hear that answer first, before doing anything else, but he decided against it. He moved a little further down, letting his tongue move in slow, deliberate circles.

If he was going to tease, after all, he might as well do it with both words and actions, right?

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Somewhere in the muddle of aroused, disorganized thoughts spinning in Phoenix's head was a very strong one regarding Edgeworth being a complete and utter bastard, which was less angry and more appreciative than he ever would have admitted to himself.

He bit back the better part of the noise that particular action elicited, burying the fingers of one hand in Miles' hair. "I think so," he managed, the necessary few panting breaths that preceded it ruining any attempt to be coy. "-but you know me. I could always use a bit more convincing."

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

"Is that so?" Miles traced another, slower, circle, then pressed a kiss into its center. "If that's the case, I'll just have to try harder to convince you, won't I?" He scraped his teeth over the spot he had just kissed.

He moved a hand to Phoenix's shoulder, gripping it tightly, and then his eyes flew open, the realization of how easy it would be to climb up and on top of him slamming into his brain. What am I thinking? I can't do - well, no. I could do that, and I really want to, but there's only one way it could be taken, and...

It was still tempting, however; it was almost enough to be irresistible. Miles only just managed to hold himself back, instead focusing that energy on getting Phoenix to make that noise he'd only just stifled a moment earlier. He moved down and to the base of his neck, kissing hard and alternating between flickering the skin with his tongue and nipping it lightly.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

If he'd been tempted to forget, even for a second, that once Miles put his mind to something there was very little that could divert him, then that was a more than adequate reminder. Phoenix held back his voice until the urge to show his appreciation threatened to emerge as a writhe instead, finally gasping out a few short, unmistakably vocal pants.

Alright, consider me persuaded. Bang the gavel, call in the bailiff, I am one hundred percent guilty of liking that, he thought (more or less -- he couldn't say with certainty that his mental grammar was still that correct). But his reply to the as-yet unanswered question instead emerged as a simple, breathless, and entirely unintentionally eager 'yes'.

He felt his face flood crimson the moment the word escaped -- he wasn't so far gone as to not realize what that sounded like -- a second later trying to append a few more words quickly and with a minimal amount of stuttering. "Yeah. Convinced."

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Miles looked up the minute Phoenix answered. That one word, said the way it was, combined with the way Phoenix looked right now - hair falling out of its usual neat spikes, flushed, breathless - there weren't words for what it was doing to him. That cool facade was gone, and he knew his eyes were telegraphing the mix of heated emotions that replaced it.

The question of how far was too far popped back into his head, the one coherent thought in the sea of half-formed, muddled ones. He moved up, kissing his earlobe again, and whispered, "I - I can't promise I'll want to stop if I keep going. No. I know I won't want to."

He paused, face turning the color of his suit. He needed to wait and to ride out the sudden wave of nervousness, before speaking again. "What do you want me to do?" Congratulations. You're once again twenty-four going on sixteen.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

The second that question was voiced, Phoenix bit his tongue, waiting out the sudden feeling that he was going to laugh or moan or die or something that would come off far too strongly. The feeling settled back like a low tide and he exhaled with a shudder, making a futile attempt at actually thinking in a sober and patient manner. The way that Edgeworth had asked seemed to request deliberation (and he still wondered at it, how he could be so polite right now. half-dressed and pinning Phoenix to a stranger's desk, eyeing him in a way that, if looks could fuck, would have necessitated a cigarette by now -- and he still managed to pause, conscientiously asking opinions and warning of consequences).

He wasn't sure he even wanted to contemplate, not when every inch of him was clamoring something, anything, everything in reply. He craned his head to look at him from the corner of his eye, whispering his answer with a crooked quirk of his lips. "Do you want the list alphabetically, or chronologically?"

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Edgeworth smirked, then hummed. "I think I want it sorted by location," he said.

He didn't give Phoenix a chance to respond to that statement. He nipped at his ear one last time, then moved his free hand up to his shoulders, pushing his jacket off.

That done, he pulled away, looking at him again, all anticipation. He didn't stay away too long, though, leaning in and kissing him hard.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Before he was being kissed again there was barely time for Phoenix to wrestle his arms out of his sleeves, let alone consider an answer to that statement -- which was probably a good thing, as considering what his answer would have been would have had him blushing all over again. Getting free of the jacket was a relief, though; it was far too warm, even if its range of motion hadn't left something to be desired.

They were pressed too close to even consider getting at the rest of those buttons, so Phoenix contented himself to untuck Edgeworth's shirt with a few easy tugs, humming intent pleasure into the kiss. The warning -- promise? -- had left something pleased and jittery fluttering around his ribcage, but he wasn't half as nervous as he would have expected. He just felt coltish, eager and giddy. He felt certain, for the first time in almost six years, that this was bound to go well.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Edgeworth replied with a hum of his own, as much approval as it was pleasure. The evening was going a million times better than he could have anticipated, with the exception of the glitter fountain incident. He couldn't even be mad about that anymore, though, not when it had led to this.

He pulled away from the kiss a moment later, putting just enough distance between them so he could slide his hands down and begin to undo the rest of the buttons on Phoenix's shirt. He realized his hands were shaking, though whether it was out of a little nervousness or a lot of anticipation, he couldn't say.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There. That was more like it.

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Phoenix had leaned back, as much to oblige Miles as to catch another admiring glimpse of him. He'd always seemed a little out of date, even as a boy -- a pace out of step with the forward march of time. But it fit him, especially at times like this, when he became a near-silent construct of lidded eyes and broad shoulders that somehow remained congruous with the finer lines of his face, when the controlled hazard of his hair and clothes gleamed monochrome. He'd been plucked from a hundred-year-old movie; women in bobbed hair and wide fur collars had swooned for him.

He glimpsed down at the unexpected tremble at the front of his shirt curiously -- his hands couldn't be shaking. There was a very short list of things that made Miles Edgeworth's hands shake, and even in his greatest fits of ego Phoenix had never placed himself on it. But they were, and at the sound of that deep, deliberate breath Phoenix couldn't help the quirk of a grin that tugged at his lips.

He reached for one of Miles' hands once he was finished, taking it in both of his own and unfastening the buttons at his cuff. He didn't let go once then, though, instead lifting it to his lips, kissing the side of a broad knuckle. "You know you're not defusing a bomb, right?" he asked with mock-concern, grin briefly turned teasing.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

If anyone else had cracked that joke, it would have led to Miles throwing his jacket back on and storming off in a huff. This wasn't anyone else, though, and while he was still a little self-conscious about the whole thing, it was still okay. If there hadn't been those moments of verbal sparring, after all, it wouldn't have been them.

He had half a mind to lean down and kiss that grin off his face, and would have if Phoenix wasn't holding his hand like that. That was more endearing that it had any right to be, just like all those moments of sentimentality he displayed were. How do you get snarky and sentimental at the same time? It shouldn't be possible.

He cocked his head to one side, looking down at Phoenix with false indignation and an overly exaggerated eyeroll. "I'm not? I never would have guessed that, Wright. Thank you for enlightening me."

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

"Always glad to help." He reached for the other wrist, undoing those buttons as well, then moving on to the rest of his shirt, doing his best to keep his own hands steady now that he'd gone ahead and shot his mouth off. It wasn't as easy as he would have thought, though.

He'd always expected that Edgeworth was in shape. Something in the way he moved just communicated it. But it took an act of supreme willpower not to whistle lowly as he ran his fingertips down his bared torso slowly, rising and falling with the warm, well-defined contours of muscle visible below the skin.

That does it. If I didn't remember this, I'm not going to remember anything.

He couldn't help it -- it was the last little detail he could take before everything hit him between the eyes. He couldn't be expected to help it, and even if he could've he wouldn't have wanted to. He pushed himself up on one hand, leaning in and kissing at a sharp, straight collarbone. "Unless there's another reason," he murmured against his skin, taking a deep breath as he felt his pulse pick up again, needing to force himself to finish the thought. Because damn it, the man was brilliant and gorgeous and he not only put up with him but apparently wanted him and he smelled good and it was practically a miracle he could keep himself from clinging to him and pulling off the rest of his clothes right there and then.

The second half of the thought emerged nearly as a whisper. "You want me to keep going, right?"

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Miles blinked, not sure he had heard that question correctly. What do you mean, do I want you to keep going? I thought I'd made that perfectly clear the moment I asked you if you wanted me to keep going.

He didn't answer right away, at least not verbally. Instead, he untucked Phoenix's shirt, undoing the last button holding the front open, and followed that by unbuttoning his cuffs. He leaned back just a little, wanting to look at him.

There hadn't really been a moment he could pinpoint as being the one where he realized how he felt about Phoenix. He wasn't even sure whether the physical or intellectual attraction had come first, but right now it was the former that was coming out in spades, propelling him forward.

"Wri - no, Phoenix. If I can be so blunt as to say this..." He paused, pushing an unruly lock of hair out of his eyes. "I've wanted this from the moment I saw you back here, and seeing you looking the way you do right now...well, I'd be crazy to tell you I wanted you to stop."

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

There wasn't a moment of conscious realization that accompanied the slight relaxation Phoenix felt creep through him, because he hadn't even acknowledged the worry that statement reassured. But he knew that decision wouldn't have been crazy -- Edgeworth could have been perfectly sane and still decided not to chase this appearance, the one that meant a thousand different things than shapeless gray and slippers did. It might even have been saner to forget it, to step back and remember that a suit and proper shoes implied personal and professional relationships that might not have accommodated this, careers on two continents that could not be compromised without being altered. It was more presentable, but Phoenix knew too well that the way he was attired might not have been more attractive.

He leaned in again, if only to hide the inevitably sentimental smile he knew that statement had brought on, and murmured a 'good.' He tugged at the back of Miles' shirt, skewing it before kissing the bare skin of his shoulder, higher this time. "Now, I'm still working on my list," he murmured, almost conversationally, lips brushing his skin. He inched closer to his neck, kissed harder, feeling his thumb push the fabric of the shirt down another inch and settle atop the solid rise of his belt. The tone of his voice as he went on was nearly indescribable, question and suggestion and flirtation at once. "So what's on yours."

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Just like that, there was a palpable shift in the room's energy - not that it was a bad thing. It wasn't, not at all. Miles laughed, low and seductive.

"Oh, I could tell you, and in a few different levels of detail." There was a hitch in his breath, and he had to suppress the shiver running down his spine. He couldn't resist the urge to reach up and tangle his fingers in Phoenix's dark hair again, and did so before he continued speaking.

"But why should I? Other than the fact that you want to know so very badly, of course. I just don't know if that's a good enough reason." Miles' lips quirked upward into another cocky smirk. "I suppose you'll just have to convince me."