044 [location: a warehouse in shelley] we go to parties, listen to the DJs

[justaddmarbles]

These days in Taxon were short, the sun rising a little before ten in the morning and setting shortly after one in the afternoon. It was also cold and snowy, and combining all of that together it could be difficult to find anything worth celebrating. Fortunately, there were some individuals intent on making making sure there was still warmth, that

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All your midnight smooches are belong to us - placeholder for the big 12 o'clock

[tin_hearts]

The year draws to a close, and fast. The music fades away and the starlit ceiling seems to take on an ever brighter cast just as the face of an elaborate time piece holography appears out of thin air. It's like some kind of magic, and behind it, Glitch's stars and moons are accompanied by vibrant bursts of color and fire dancing across the indoors sky.

It's counting down backwards from ten.

Raise your glasses, one and all. Bid the old annual a sweet farewell, and greet the new one with lifted spirits. Find someone to kiss, or sing a song - do whatever your heart desires.

'ROUND MIDNIGHT

[justaddmarbles]

That wine? That wine had meant business. Glitch was just about euphoric, and though he'd been dancing more or less nonstop since he'd finished his drink he was far from tired and now...

Now it was raining confetti and glitter and he was grinning and looking up at the holograms and if anyone's interested in a kiss now'd be a good time to spring it on him.

:D

[colacherri]

Cherri arrives at some point, lurking around, talking only to those that really matter to him--which is mostly just shadows in the corner of his eyes--but he knows what the countdown is. He doesn't have News. That's the sad part, but it's quickly blocked by the fact that it's midnight.

So he does what he does best: the first person with equally odd hair he sees he happily wraps an arm around, brings his face up, and kisses him as hard as he can before literally skipping away, retreating to the punch table and pouring himself some punch before tapping a rather incredible amount of sugar in it.

[justaddmarbles]

Oh hey getting kissed a lot! Glitch digs that, he digs everything right now and he's just about grab onto this kind soul and give as good as he gets when--

Whoosh. Gone. Glitch stands blinking after Cherri for a few moments, his ninja reflexes too impaired to follow through on his tackle-and-return-the-favor plan. Instead he...scurries? scuttles? sidles to the bunch bowl and watches with interest.

"Hey," he begins, all manic grinning and bits of confetti in his hair. "Thanks but what was that and what are you doing?"

[slayersidekick]

Having been drug to the party by DG - and thus dragging Buffy with her - one redhead witch made her way through the party. She wasn't really feeling in the party mood, but she knew well enough that that was probably the reason she needed to be there at all. It was supposed to be a time of celebration, but with the new year came a reminder that her cat was now a year old... and Tara had been gone for months. One of her most important people wasn't there anymore and it still hurt.

But she had to put on a brave face, so there she was, walking around and trying to find other familiar faces while making sure certain friends didn't remain wallflowers. With luck it would be a good end of the year anyway.

[buffy_slayer]

Buffy is not far behind her, dressed in what she hopes is an appropriately festive red satin sheath with an overlay of black lace. She'd dropped her winter coat off at the door, and nervously rubbed at her bare arms.

"Anything I should know here? Party tricks for the new guys, things like that?

[slayersidekick]

"Not really," Willow admits with a smile, trying her best to feel up to the party atmosphere. "They're usually a lot of mingling a-and alien-hate. Most of us have been through a lot with them and these parties are... sometimes our only way to get away from that." And even then they weren't always the best way to do that.

"But, I've got a whole bunch of people I'd like you to meet! I think you'd really like them."

threadjacking ahoy!

[tin_hearts]

Part of being a good host was, in Cain's opinion, making sure everyone felt welcome - and that went especially for newcomers, and people he hadn't had a chance to meet in person yet.

And all that besides, his...what's it called? His resolution involves getting to know more people. In that respect, this seems like the perfect opportunity for doing just that.

Even if it's been a really long time since he took on this particular kind of responsibility, he walks over with the kind of confidence you only get with age (and dear goodness he's starting to realize he's old enough to be everyone's father).

"Ladies," he says, adding a smile to the greeting. "Welcome to Annual's End. I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

Handshake?

[freaks_myword]

Gwen strolls in fashionably late. Her nervousness is barely noticeable--maybe only revealed through a quick tug on her gloves or that short intake of breath she takes to steady herself--but it's there. The last time she attended a party, she was turned into an animal...and not the fun party-girl kind. It's not something she plans on repeating, and if things start going sour, she'll make a break for the door and fry anything in her way

[slayersidekick]

Willow takes note of Gwen as soon as she sees her, which does take a while. But eventually, she heads over, recognizing the woman from the tablets.

"Gwen, right? I'm Willow. We talked a couple of times on the tablets."

[freaks_myword]

Gwen takes a sip of her drink and eyes the other woman, a witch, she remembers from her still-ongoing search to find something that could help her.

"I remember," she answers, and while anyone else might hold out a hand for her to shake in a normal greeting, hers remains stiffly by her side. Even with the glove, it tends to make people nervous, and it's always been something she's never wanted to make a habit out of. Just in case one day she forgot.

As if she ever would. "Haven't seen you around much. Not that I can blame you."

[slayersidekick]

Willow doesn't take much notice of a) the gloves and b) the not-handshaking. People have their preferences and some are just more forward and friendly than others. If this woman knows Angel, and is trusted enough with Connor, then Willow won't knock her until she knows her.

"It's been a... a kinda crazy month." What with the seeing things that weren't there and the painful reminders she'd been trying to avoid. "Kinda just trying to make it through everything. How've you been?" Couldn't hurt to be nice to her.

[imperial_long]

Mayland Long shows up on time (despite his typist), with a quite large bag with him that doesn't match his immaculate white tuxedo at all. He's carrying the bag easily enough, but it appears to be heavy by the thump when he sets it down against a wall and crouches down to rummage through it.

Inside are a number of wrapped little gifts, and he hums to himself tunelessly as he starts looking through for who goes with what.

[freaks_myword]

For some reason, Long doesn't strike Gwen as the Santa Clause type. It's not the big bag of gifts that draws her over (she doesn't expect one), but simply the sight of a friend.

She interrupts his humming after listening to it for a few seconds. "You're not gonna carry that thing around all night, are you?"

[imperial_long]

"Certainly not," Long respond without turning. "I will leave it here and fish presents out as I observe their recipients. And on that note--"

He straightens, turns around, a package thrust out to Gwen in his long-fingered hands. The wrapping is dark gold, bronze almost, with a dark green ribbon.

The inside is a little more tacky than the exterior. Long had to hunt for this one, but it's a glossy, spiral-bound cookbook. It's not incredibly thick, but then, the writers could only come up with so many methods for preparing rodents, it appears.

"A happiest of new years, Miss Raiden."

[smecker]

It's the most he's dressed up in... a long time. There was a point in life where he wore a suit every single day, mister fucking FBI, but he's been in Taxon over a year now, an impossible year, and there's quite a few things he's been getting out of the habit of wearing. Neckties and suit jackets. And oh yeah, his badge. These days it's usually a button-up and trousers, sometimes even jeans when he's doing work around the Birdhouse.

Paul adjusts the cuffs of his shirt-sleeves until they are the exact half-inch beyond his jacket cuffs that they should be. He passed on the tie but his shirt is stark crisp white, single-stitch tailoring, and he knows he is looking... fabulous. Snort.

New Year's, Jesus. There had been one or two Bureau parties back when he'd been young enough to still try to network, to shmooze, but mostly New Year's for Paul is a patchwork memory of some highly ridiculous one-night-stands and, on the better end of the spectrum, nights out on the town with Angela

[buffy_slayer]

Buffy's wandered off, feeling a tiny bit overwhelmed in the midst of the glitter and the noise and yeah, it's time for a glass of something sparkly.

The glass of bubbly is being clutched like a lifeline, and it takes a moment for her to notice who she's standing next to.

"I hope you're not still stuck at Cinderella's castle."

[smecker]

Paul glances over, nods to Buffy.

"Nope, it's back to being the ugliest goddamn building in Taxon. Thankfully. Except for maybe that fish-gutting factory I saw somewhere over in Osten."

Paul has a sip of his wineglass, looking Buffy over critically. "Nice dress."