It's Brittany, Bitch | Ερις (eristic) wrote in paxletalelogs, @ 2011-07-03 14:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | eris, phobos, tiamat |
Our Right To Bear Arms - And Fireworks
Who: Charlie & OPEN TO EVERYONE
What: It’s the Fourth of July. Let’s blow stuff up.
Where: Parking Lot of Pax Letale
When: July 4th, 9:00 pm
Warnings: TBA
Notes: TBA
Charlie could claim that she wasn’t one much for holidays - Christmas sucked, Halloween was mainly an excuse for her pranks and petty crimes, and she never was quite able to wrap her head around Easter. A rabbit that pooped chocolate eggs? What would they think of next? But the Fourth was another case altogether. Not that her town was especially patriotic, but growing up with the Ekholms nearby had changed that. Rylee’s father had infected his son with love of country, and the Fourth of July was akin to the birth of Christ at their home. Mrs. Ekholm’s cooking was something to be respected, and Mr. Ekholm always managed to scrap together a fantastic bit of bang in a bag otherwise known as fireworks. And after her military service, aside from Veterans Day, the national holiday held a little more respect for her.
Mainly, though, the one thing she loved most about it were the fireworks. And that was why she was currently in the Pax Letale parking lot with a box full of them - screamers and sparklers, fountains, ones that promised to spin and others that guaranteed a rainbow of colors. Charlie had gone through a few counties to pick these babies up, since they were outlawed in Newport Beach. And though she was quite aware of the law enforcement living in the building, the worst she figured could happen was a ticket and a hefty fine, something she’d be willing to accept as payment for her fun. But somehow she figured that if Sam managed to involve himself, he’d probably end up just looking the other way.
The darkness was permeated with the off-kilter coloring of the street lamps, and Charlie unloaded her box of tricks from the back of her motorcycle. A clear enough space was right in the middle of the lot, well enough away from the building to prevent fire and most damage, provided nothing flew toward windows or other openings. But if shit happened, shit happened, and all Charlie was looking forward to was a good time.
Setting the box on the ground, she dug her cell phone out of her pocket and looked up Rylee’s number. A quick text out to bring him running out, and then they could have some fun.
Get your ass out here or I’m gonna throw a bunch of lit sparklers in your car’s gas tank.