Casino Night!

[broken_brushes]

When I'd first come up with the idea of Casino Night, I wasn't sure if it was even possible on the island. In retrospect, that might have been naive of me, because if there was anything I'd learned in over four years on Tabula Rasa, it was that its residents were capable of doing just about anything save getting home

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[lucked]

"Well, technically you're on a roll," Claire points out, nodding toward the pair of dice on the table and smoothing down any folds in her dress, feeling overly conscious for the sense of style she's borrowing for the night. "So you could totally just be stating a fact, nothing wrong with that."

Pursing her lips and turning a few chips in her fingers, Claire tilts her head at the table, leaning against the table to relieve her feet just a touch. "You know what I miss tonight? Colors. I totally should have gone with a bright dress, like you did."

[floozyfacade]

Olive grins, glancing down at her dress. With its high, if sheer, neckline, its knee length hem, its girlish color, it may well be the most demure thing she's worn to a party since she arrived, and she loves it. Truthfully, it feels more her than corsets and thigh highs. "I almost went red, too," she says. "I'm kind of glad I didn't. And not just because of the clashing -" She gestures up to her hair, which she's worn loose, and which doesn't really clash with all reds. "- but because God, I mean, I'm all for standing out, but this is like the penguin exhibit at the zoo. You, though, Claire, oh my God, you look so good."

[lucked]

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, Claire tilts her head, trying to imagine how red would look against Olive's burnt auburn hair- in all honesty, she doesn't think that red would clash all that much (pink might be another story, depending on shade), but she goes along with it anyway, a crooked grin on her lips. "Well, I think you made the right choice," she affirms. "Not because red would be bad, but this is just... I don't know, it's really natural, and that just makes me think of you. It's confident without being a huge target, I guess. Doesn't try too hard."

Allowing herself a brief huff of a laugh, Claire then shakes her head. "But me? No, no, seriously, the back of this dress would make anyone here look good, I'm sure you'd look twice as awesome if you put this on than I do right now. I'm just, trying, you know." Claire reaches her hand out, tilts it from side to side in a so-so gesture. "Up the classiness a little. Think my personality's getting in the way, though. And my inability to walk ten feet in these without tripping."

[floozyfacade]

Olive grins, head ducking slightly, and takes the opportunity to get a better look at the shoes in question. The compliments never get old, honestly. It's not like she never had them growing up, wasn't, in fact, showered in a surfeit of praise, but aside from her parents, who never counted, the idea of herself as someone pretty was a rarity, and certainly she never heard it so often as she does here. Given the usual sources, she only half-believes it, but the ego boost is still deeply appreciated.

"I think there are catwalk models who'd have trouble with those shoes," she points out with a slight laugh, "but they look great. And Jesus, if you're not a classy person, I'm screwed." That may in fact be true, she thinks. She's hardly Grace Kelly with her off-color humor and innuendo.

[lucked]

"Dude, that is so not true," Claire argues, almost tempted to swat Olive on the arm in the way that she so often has Lyle, back in Odessa. As much of a dainty appearance as she tries to put on in front of her friends, there's a part of her that's always been a tomboy too, that opted for cheerleading partially for the athleticism and not just the status. "I am... classy's cousin. You know, I can curtsy, but I don't ballroom dance, I square dance. And I might go for blonde curls most of the time, but you'd be hard-pressed to find me putting on, I don't know, a headband or a bow or anything like that. Plus, I've never ever been to Hollywood."

Pressing her lips together, Claire grins. "Which, well, I guess Hollywood isn't really the center of class anymore, but I think Cali still has an edge on Texas."

[floozyfacade]

Olive scoffs, brow raising, her grin broadening as she claps a hand on each of Claire's shoulders. "You've never been to California," she says. "Sure, we have the film industry, but that's a double-edged sword, trust me. Class is... not our middle name. Anyway, whatever, you'd look stupid with a bow in your hair anyway." It's the kind of insult that can only be traded between good friends, softened by her smile, and it's kind of nice to know she can say things like that to someone and they won't be offended, to have a friend like that again. "How much gambling have you been doing?"

[lucked]

Claire wrinkles her nose, feigning hurt as she purses her lips, patting the hair on the top of her head down, as though comforting the nonexistent bow- which, admittedly, she'd never even try in the first place, but she's seen some people pull it off. Maybe she's thinking too much of that one brunette who used to walk around the island, nose raised high whenever she walked by someone who didn't meet her standards. (Blair, Claire's mind supplies, but as she never did directly meet the girl, she can't be sure.)

"Hey, don't knock blondes in bows until you've seen it. I hear that they became really popular in 2008, which may not be a big deal to you, but I arrived from a full two years before then, so it's kind of major to me," Claire protests, although she dissolves easily enough into giggles. "Anyway, uh, not too much gambling, really. Every time I try, I feel like my dad's watching over my shoulder and totaly disapproving. But I did my fair share in donating a couple of things, at least, so I'm not totally uninvolved."