watchingdeath (watchingdeath) wrote in oblivion_rp, @ 2010-05-02 18:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-12-30, brodie, nayan |
Hellava Party
Who: Nayan and Brodie
Where: Circean Delight
When: about 8:30
What: Tight pants and whips
Nayan was having a remarkably good time. It could have had something to do with the liquid metric fuckton of whiskey he'd been knocking down. Okay, so not that much precisely. Nayan had never been a heavy drinker but he had enough recreational alcohol in his system to make the festival colors of the costume party the most incredible thing he'd seen in months. He'd gotten into the spirit of the costume theme more at the demand of Sacha, who'd enthusiastically run out to find a suitable costume and force him to have fun. The end results of her zeal had been his current ensemble of dusty cowboy hat, old leather jacket, fitted khaki pants, leather boots, and several belts from which an empty revolver holster hung and the coiled length of Indiana Jones' infamous rawhide whip. (His wife had made some incredibly creative uses of that whip after purchasing it, mostly as a bribe to make sure he wore it later. So this was him up holding his bargain despite her absence.)
He carried with him also his own tan shoulder bag that bore a remarkable resemblance to that of Harrison's Ford's on the grounds that his was a real archeologist's bag. Currently he was leaned up against the bar and enjoying the ridiculousness of his hat. He was getting lots of compliments on it and occasionally asked for pictures. There were a lot of Marvel super heroes and villains wandering around and Disney princesses galore. (Snow White may or may not have accidentally on purpose copped a feel while getting her photo taken with him.) Either way he was having a hilariously good time.
It was a moment of chance that he happened to spot a familiar face in the crowd, and only because he was wearing that very distinctive 'I am a million miles away thinking about God knows what' expression at the time. Brodie the distracted blue-eyed drummer from a band Nayan was pretty sure was a big deal to certain circles and he was accompanied by a gray curl of smoke from his cigarette and... wearing extremely tight leather pants. Probably indecently tight really considering Brodie's rockstar physique. Nayan would have posited glam rock mockery - the a wildly curly wig being what it was - but there some something familiar about the style and the ensemble as a whole.
Nayan spent a moment laboring over what the hell he was supposed to be. Figured it out and crossed the room to tap him, grinning.
"Mr. Morrison I presume?"