taxonomites | [location: John Everton's House] [OPEN TO ALL!] BLOCK PARTY!!!

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[location: John Everton's House] [OPEN TO ALL!] BLOCK PARTY!!!

The time had come. Charlotte left John in charge of setting up the bar, giving him only the one request that he have a decent selection of beer, and did the work of dialing up the food. She knew she was going way over board. For all she knew no one might show up, even though she'd gotten a bit of a response to her invite. How could people resist, though. Food, drink, Dean's music, kittens? Okay, and an ex-vampire, but that wasn't his fault.

Pushing that thought away, she continued laying out the food and the carefully crafted warding spells that would protect it from the kittens. They had been given run of most of the patio, but not the yard, and not the food area. That meant they'd still be popping in and out of people's laps, but at least they wouldn't do it to plates.

When everything was ready, Charlotte ran up to change into skinny jeans, a crisp white button down and a ridiculously shiny pair of cowboy boots. Not unlike Dawn, not that she knew it, Charlotte was having too much fun with the fashion options the replicators afforded. Properly armored for the event, she headed back to the patio to wait for their first guests.

OOC: This is an open event, folks, anyone should feel free to tag in, even if they just discover the party. Start a new thread with a label if you want or just tag in on another thread. Feel free to hop around, too. IT'S A PARTY, PEOPLE! Also, this will go on as long as people are interested, so backtag all ya like. We know people will be in and out all weekend. Have fun, drink all the booze.

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"Nah, with the people we've got here, I'm pretty sure it'll be the opposite," Dean grins at Charlotte.

Dean takes the offered hand and shakes it firmly, turning that grin on John. He'd heard about the vampire deal; hell, he'd fixed up Inara. But he doesn't know the vampire was John, so he'll just continue to be blissfully unaware.

"Plenty of good music. The classics," Dean replies, and by that he means mostly Led Zeppelin, Boston, Kansas, Journey, and the other classic rock bands. Stuff no sane people can hate.

That brought her up short, but just for an instant. The evening had been going too well for him to mean anything by it. "Help yourself, please. Half of it will end up back in the recyclers, which is a shame because apparently my food imagination is pretty good."

And thankfully he didn't mean anything by it; while once he might've thought Charlotte a treat, he's beyond that now. He's had his fill for the evening, anyway, so there's no trouble in eyeing the actual food. It looks... well, very inviting.

"My compliments to your imagination."

With her arm around John's waist as the men shook hands, Charlotte tried really hard not to think about the fact that whoever brought them there had pretty good taste in men. It was just too weird a thing to think about. "Hopefully we'll have enough people for some dancing."

She bowed slightly as she offered him a glass of the wine. "I do try. There's been so little else to do, I spend time testing the limits of the technology." It had kept her busy for an entire day, trying to see if she could get the machine to fail. That was a bet she'd lost.

Cian accepted the glass - yes, that feeling was certainly from her, he decided - and raised it in a toast-like manner. "Sláinte. I've had a good run with the things myself. Seems they'll do anything short of living things."

~~Somebody say dancing? Give this kid a few beers.~~ Have an eighteen-year-old who just got here wandering onto the scene, taking everything in. So this is the party that dude was talking about.

"Uh. Hi there!"

"Check, John and defilement, Dean and complaints, kittens and avoidance. I ought to be able to remember that." And beat Kasparov at chess without batting an e-eyelash.

Inara stared at the walls of her shuttle for a good long time before she decided, finally, all right.

There was no avoiding it. She had been living like a hermit for weeks, months really. And one of the only times she'd ventured out she'd nearly been killed. It wasn't a phenomenally confidence-stirring fact.

Still. There were people out there, a greater society, and she was at heart a social creature. It was difficult watching other people network and participate while she endlessly made herself tea and prayed.

Only shénshèng de gāowán did it have to be at John Everton's house? She rubbed her neck reflexively. He'd apologized in a very halfhearted way with no assurances that it wouldn't happen again, the entire becoming a monster of legend...thing. And nearly killing her. Was she insane to contemplate walking directly into his home? She already felt so stupid for it happening in the first place.

By the time she was running in mental circles about this she'd already dressed, prepared and was standing at the loading dock of the ship, ready to leave. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, and then announced "I'm going out!" To whomever it concerned. Assuming that anyone was even still there and hadn't all already gone over themselves.

It wasn't far to John and Charlotte's apartment. By the time she arrived there were already quite a few people there...well. At the very least if something awful was going to happen there would be plenty of witnesses. She drew her embroidered shawl around her arms more firmly and ventured forth, going in to see what, and who, was there to be seen.

Charlotte poured herself a glass and took a sip before shaking her head. "That's not strictly true. I've gotten a few plants out of it." She shrugged. "They work better for some of the recipes I use, so I gave it a try. I can get them, but they aren't large. I thought I'd start up a little garden."

She chuckled. "Of course, then I have to explain to John why I want to grow belladonna."

He might have had the order right, but she had a feeling his comprehension was a little low. Particularly where the kittens were concerned. Oh, well, he'd learn the first time one popped up in his lap and asked for a treat. "In that case, I release you on the party. Have fun."

"If not, I'll go down to Buffy's house and drag them all out for a party. I've got to see her drunk," Dean chuckles.

And then there's a random eighteen-year-old. Who looks vaguely familiar. Dean recognizes him as the nose-kid, and flashes him a grin. Why hello there, kid who Dean can quite possibly take under his wing. Dean sees potential. This is not a good thing.

"Hey there, kiddo. Good to see you're keeping your nose out of trouble," and yeah, that was a terrible pun, but Dean couldn't resist.

And over to your right, Inara, is a one Dean Winchester, who is very glad to be seeing you not... bleeding to death. He's got a beer in hand and is leaning against the wall, people-watching for now. When he spots Inara coming in, looking plenty nervous, it's vaguely confusing for Dean, considering he doesn't exactly know what John did.

But hey, that's not going to stop him from coming over to Inara and flashing her a grin, offering her a beer. No use in being shy.

"Hey. Good to see you."

He's raising a hand to wave at the couple, too, when Dean says that, and Dexter pauses at the vague familiarity of the voice, looking at him.

"Aaaah," he grins, embarrassed, tapping his nose. "Yes. Nose. Funny!"

He took a sip of his wine, listening, unable to stop himself from thinking about his mother's garden back in Clare and the fight with Hoyt that had ensued about it. You can't miss him, he had to tell himself.

Cian raised his eyebrows. "Why do you want to grow belladonna? Perhaps I should be second-thinking the food," he joked.

HAY GUYS, it's Toby, and he's brought Canadian beer (bow down). He smiles upon seeing the crowd that's formed, although he's expecting a headache from trying to block out all these thoughts.

Pillage away.

The little red dot was annoying. Gwen had been tracking it for half an hour getting lost countless times throughout the city before she finally thought she was heading in the right direction. One thing she hadn't expected to find upon her little quest for the red dot was finding a shindig.

Stuffing the tablet into her pocket the brown coated captain stood off on the edge of the group quietly tilting her head to the left and studying the people there. Yeah she had a few options mostly centering around being sociable or continuing on her way however the want to need to find out more about what was going on overcame any need for red dot hunting.

Lowering her arms to her side one of the newer arrivals progressed toward the group with a wry smile upon her face. "If I had known there was a party I would have remembered t' bring somethin'."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it, and if, after the party is over, you need any help cleaning up, let me know?" Just because Jarvis has a shiny new body, doesn't mean he's lost the need to buttle.

Charlotte chuckled, keeping just the tiniest bit of danger in the sound just for fun. "Where is the fun in poisoning new guests? You have to know them a while to enjoy their painful and inevitable death." She let that sink in for a moment, then shook her head. "Belladonna works well in certain medicinal and spiritual concoctions." Which was a fancy way of saying it made great flying cream, of course.

Charlotte chuckled. Got one signed up and she wasn't even trying. "Oh, rest assured, I'll let you know. I will be absolutely sure to let you know."

Barnabas knew that it would be rude if he didn't show up, especially since he'd seen the invitation, so naturally, he put in an appearance. Besides, it was a good opportunity to get out of the room he'd been staying in and actually look around the city a little bit.

Of course, he's a little late, but he's been "busy" all day. Surely people will understand.

And there he is, generally observing the entire thing. Especially the kittens. He may or may not think they're the cutest things ever.

Brigitta has actually managed to leave her sword behind for the occaision, gasps of shock are allowed... Basically, she managed it thanks to a handy amount of mental trickery on her part, and she does have a good few knives shoved in the coat that she's wearing, it is thus tolerable.

...Aaand she also has a bottle of Everclear tucked in among the knives, for just in case, but nobody knows about that except Dean and she's not telling.

So, yes, Brigitta shall just be standing there wearing a innocent smile that might just be taken to mean 'Nope, of course I don't have several weapons and some very strong alcohol on me, I don't known what you're talking about' but shall probably just be taken as a friendly smile, feel free to bug her!

The Deadmobile idled in front of John's house as Cassie looked out the passenger window. She'd been driving around the city, ~~nothing better to do~~ and noticed the decorations and the people milling about. Cassie wasn't much of a partier, but she'd done it once. It was a cover, of course. Hunting Father Wrath on Spring Break. She'd drank, danced with a cute boy, kissed a girl. But all for the sake of getting the slasher. Course, the vomiting and the hangover the next morning weren't exactly awesome, but she'd survived. But would she survive this?

With no Vlad to make fun of it with her....

Cassie sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. "...the fuck, man?" She growled to herself. "It's not like you can't excuse yourself if you don't feel welcome or just get fucking bored. You gonna do it or not?" She noticed Dean's Impala parked not far from her and she arched an eyebrow. At least she'd know one person for sure. Biting at her bottom lip, she exhaled sharply, then ran her fingers through her hair again, making sure it didn't look completely jacked.

Climbing out of the van, she shut the door, glancing down at herself. Her usual attire wasn't exactly people-friendly, but she didn't feel over or underdressed. Steeling herself, Cassie started up the walkway that led around to the back of the house. Lifting her hand, she knocked at the door, waiting ~~awkwardly~~ for it to be answered. She may curse like a sailor, and kill things for a living, but she still had some manners.

John recognized the newcomer and grinned. "Glad you could make it." In this place, John has decided that edge doesn't matter in the least. He handed Dexter a beer by way of further greeting, then gave Charlie another kiss before pushing her toward their guests.

"Go mingle, woman. You're distracting me."

John walked over to where Charlie and JARVIS were, grinning. He came in just in time to hear the offer of helping clean up. "Of course we'd love the help."

He offered his hand to JARVIS. "Hello. I'm John, your other host for this little party."

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[location: John Everton's House] [OPEN TO ALL!] BLOCK PARTY!!!

The Bar

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The Bar

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JARVIS

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JARVIS

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JARVIS

[later that ~evening.]

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JARVIS