halfbloodhill_logs | ( open ) ❧ johnny's party (come get it)

Entry tags:

( open ) ❧ johnny's party (come get it)

Who: Johnny and everyone ever.

What: The party of the month -- NAH, THE PARTY OF THE YEAR.

Where: Cabin 12.

When: September 28th.

Why: Walkin' round the house like who's the man? (Nobody can do it like Johnny can.)

So, that whole Red Room business was, to put it plainly, whack as hell. Everyone at camp's spirits are way down. Johnny's spirits are way down, to say the very least.

See, Johnny hates feeling like he's trapped. Now, after that debacle? He pretty much feels like a caged animal, stuck here and left to pace back and forth with no real goals, no real anything to look forward to. That's where Heather's incredible, incredible suggestion comes in.

Why not throw a party? After all, he's a Dionysus kid. That's pretty much what they're born to do.

It's taken about a week of heavy preparation, but he's done it. By the time he sends out his short Iris Message (it's pretty weird, seeing as he's practically sitting in the dark, lit only by the cabin's blacklight), it's evident that he's already set everything up, decorations visible faintly in the background, music playing as he reminds the campers that it starts tonight, at 8 PM, though it's not too loud (yet).

Upon arriving, campers will notice the very purposeful selection of only rock and pop punk-y kind of music (and no slow songs, sorry Certain Camp Couples) and a table full of strawberry Slurpees (strawberries... Dionysus... it's a thing, he guesses), the cabin's furniture cleared off to the sides to make an impromptu dance floor. And then there's Johnny, lurking by the sound system, fiercely protective of his precious tunes. Don't mess. (Or, maybe mess, if you so choose.)

He may not know a whole lot of people at camp, but he does know Heather, and knows how persuasive the daughter of Venus can be, so. Party at the Dionysus cabin!

( ooc: I figure everyone can post their own starters and tag around and mingle? HAVE FUNNNN! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( He'll raise an eyebrow as she drinks straight from her flask but won't say anything. Instead, he peers down into the depths of his now strawberry-and-vodka Slurpee. Welp, here goes nothin'. )

Yeah, cheers.

( Not that he expects it to be life-changing or anything, but he definitely expected the alcohol to totally overpower the fruitiness. Johnny's gladly proven wrong in this case. )

Huh. Not bad.

Nope, not at all. [She practically dances a bit closer to him as she sips on her straw, keeping her eyes trained on him.]

I'll take it you don't do my kind of partying often.

( Johnny doesn't dare let her out of his sight for a moment; oh, no, Éponine looks far too dangerous or something, in a way. He thinks it's pretty cool, actually. )

Not really. Parties back at home are, like, way more chill. Laid back. You know.

( Parties? More like bumming around a convenience store parking lot or sprawling across the floor of a dirty basement bedroom talking about life and on very rare occasions, passing around a joint that he and his two best friends pooled all of their lunch money together for. Nothing quite like this. )

[Johnny, she will rip your heart out for fun. Because that's just the type of person she is. At least, without certain other people running around making her fall in love with them. SO ENJOY IT, okay?]

I don't know, actually.

[Her parties? Were always like this. Drugs and booze free-flowing. Most of it she got for free, one way or another. It paid to be part of the New York underworld and drug scene. When your dad ran one of the gangs? You got all the spoils.]

( And this poor boy is doomed. Just doomed. Johnny's the kind of guy that falls hard and fast and doesn't even care how reckless it makes him seem. Ripping out his heart? Please. He'll practically hand it to her on a silver platter. )

I dunno, everything in California just seems so ... mellow compared to how exciting I picture shit being in New York. Not that I don't like it there, but. Yeah. Always imagined bigger and better things.

( With a shrug, he takes another drink, nearly forgetting about the hint of vodka in there. Oh, right. That. )

The only way I'd be able to do California was if I was down in LA. [Because hot damn those parties? She'd totally do cocaine with Charlie Sheen, okay?]

We'll get out of here for a night. I'll show you how we really do it in the city. Long Island is just full of guidos, so we've really got to get out- there's no way I'm taking you to a place like Nachos or Dizzy's. [Two classy Hempstead bars right there on the Turnpike. No way. You could get an STD from sitting down in there.]

[And she's drinking again.] I mean okay, I grew up in Jersey so I'm one to talk.

( He smiles knowingly. Yep, she definitely seems more LA than San Francisco and Oakland. Probably could've figured that out just by looking at her.

Éponine's proposal excites that ever-restless part of him that's always longing to just leave wherever he's at, go anywhere, as long as it's new and different and fun. ) Yeah? I'd dig that. No guidos allowed.

( And there's a laugh. ) Really? You didn't really strike me as a Jersey girl.

Then we'll do it. You and me, we'll take off for a night. If anyone can get you out, [She winks] it's me.

[Here, Johnny, have a bitchface.] Fuck you. Yeah, we moved when I was seven to Brooklyn. I try to avoid being a Jersey girl at all costs.

I don't doubt that.

( A bitchface in exchange for a wink? He'll take it. And, naturally, it's time for another sip of his Slurpee, which is starting to melt. ) Seems like you're on the right track. I mean, you're not orange, to start. And you definitely don't look - fake.

Good. Runs in the blood.

[She isn't going to take her eyes off of him.] Good. I try not to be. The hell is the point of being fake anyway? I'm me. If you've got a problem with it, fuck you. [She smiles around her straw.]

So, when you're done with your Slurpee, you're gonna take me for a spin on the floor. [Not a question.]

( Hey, hey, no problems over here. With a small grin, he puts his hands up in mock surrender as best he can while holding his drink. )

Oh, am I? Good to know. ( And, as if on cue, Johnny downs the rest, disregarding the straw and then setting the cup back on the table very triumphantly. ) Shall we?

Figured you'd like the heads up. [she, too, finishes off her Slurpee- which is mostly slush now- and looks up at him with a nod.] Lead the way, Johnny.

( It's probably the tiny bit of liquid courage in him that still hasn't fully settled over him that makes Johnny grab her hand and tug her towards the center of the cabin. He takes almost comically careful steps backwards as he leads her, grinning widely, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that he doesn't bump into anyone. That'd be a definite loser move. Which is totally not allowed right now.

There's rock music playing, of course, something probably way too loud that he's gonna get scolded about tomorrow morning. For now, though, he couldn't care less. )

[She follows him wordlessly to the center of the floor, and once they're settled, she wraps her arms around his neck, bringing herself closer to him. She's tiny, in stature, in size, but that doesn't stop her in the least, as she sways her hips against his.]

( Gods. Well.

Johnny certainly can't say he does a lot of dancing like this - no, definitely not; his dancing skills lie in jumping around and headbanging - but he's not at all complaining as Éponine presses closer. Without even thinking about it, his hands go to her hips, her very slender hips, starting to get into the music more and move with the beat. )

Thaaaat's it, [she coos, wrapping her arms around his neck to keep them closer. It takes him some time, but she's not going to judge as soon he's got the rhythm down as she grinds against him. After a bit, she spins in his arms, keeping his hands on her hips as she presses her backside against him, her hands on his.]

( Her words bring a shy sort of smirk out of him, highly aware of just how close she is -- he could probably just lean down and --

Okay, okay, getting ahead of himself. But this is practically, like, mindblowing to Johnny. A pretty girl's actually showing interest in him? He can hardly think straight right about now because of Éponine which is just so... He thought he was supposed to be the one who could make people go crazy.

His fingers lace between hers against the fabric of her skinny jeans, maybe gripping her just a bit tighter. )

[She's grinning, dancing against him. He's certainly not bad looking, that's for sure, or she wouldn't be here in the first place. Plus, he has an adorable charm around him. And things were getting... they were going someplace with Dave. So running around being free was certainly the way to go about dealing with that. Yes, Eponine. Run away from your problems. That always ends well.

She reaches on hand behind her head, wrapping around his neck to keep him even closer, lowering his head to her neck. Her other hand is still very happy to be on her hip, in his.]

( Johnny doesn't want -- probably doesn't need to know whatever's going on with Éponine and Dave. He doesn't like complicated shit. He's just gonna enjoy this while he can, because it's his party, so he gets to do what he wants to do, damnit.

Okay, well. Éponine could probably make him do whatever she wanted him to do, in all honesty. But still. She's successful in bringing him even closer, his lips practically against the soft skin of her neck -- until he can't help but grin cheesily to himself. He's hopeless. )

[Then he will remain in the dark while Eponine runs around breaking everyone's heart into a million pieces.

She can practically feel his heartbeat speed up, his breath on her neck. And y'know what? She will never get tired of being able to have that effect on men. To use them just as much as some people back at home would use her. Call her vain, a slut, a whore, whatever. It was awesome.

She tilts her head just a little bit more to the side, egging him on.]

( Okay, okay, he gets the hint. Johnny pretty much thinks that it's the hottest thing on the planet that Éponine's able to just do whatever she wants with him without batting an eyelash. Like. The hottest. What a time to be a hormonal teenage boy.

He's probably lucky that he's starting to feel a little bit of a buzz from the booze she gave him, or else he'd be stuck overthinking everything and acting stupid and ruining the whole moment. Instead, though, he just lets his lips do what they've been wanting to do -- her skin is soft like he thought it'd be and it's really nice. His hand gives hers a little squeeze against her hip, a little smirk playing at his lips. )

[She's smirking, too, enjoying the soft feeling of his lips against her neck. She shivers slightly, pulling him closer, squeezing his hand back. Then, she raises her head slightly and smiles at him, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Oh, yeah, Johnny. That's a challenge if you've never seen one.]

( He pulls back for a moment, just to acknowledge that innocent little smile of hers, the raised eyebrow just daring him to do it.

Nope, he's not at all backing down from this challenge. Hastily and without much thought at all, Johnny just goes for it, head tilting slightly as his lips crash against hers. He's probably kissed, like, two girls in his very short lifetime (and one may or may have not been purely in a truth or dare situation) and he should probably be more awkward about it, but even if he is, he sure as hell doesn't care. )

[innocent smirk. Oh, Johnny, you know nothing.

But he's going for it, and she's not going to stop him, meeting his lips with her own, parting them slightly as she kisses him, letting the hand around his neck move to play with his hair. He should be awkward, maybe. But he's not. And that is extremely refreshing.]

( Holy shit. What. What.

Taking her hand within his own, he tugs her so she's facing him straight on again and he can kiss her harder this time. The hand that rested on her hip just so happens to stray a bit to her backside, nudging her further to the outskirts of the cabin's makeshift dance floor.

Johnny knows he should probably be a little more self-conscious about the small crowd of people still remaining at the party but he's not. Because -- holy shit. )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

six hundred years later ;;

it's okay because i saw your face

VERY TRUE #smallvictories

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject