fandomtownies | Fandom High 20 Year Reunion Mixer, Community Center, Saturday Evening

Fandom High 20 Year Reunion Mixer, Community Center, Saturday Evening

The bulky booze reserves Tamsin had reeled in during their last stop had no real end in sight. So great was their wealth that this time around, they'd actually just put wine and beer barrels out to function as tables across the community center.

The decorations were nice, though. Just a dusting of gold and blue glitter, nice tablecloths, and a wide selection of food. That was all you needed, right?

[ocd up!| Arrive/Pick Up A Name Tag | Food/Open Bar | Dance Floor | Dark Corners | OOC]]

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Just in case people might not recognize you without one.

No, seriously. There is a lot of booze.

Now starring a greying DJ in a beanie playing Best of the 10s.

So, you know. Oldies.

These days, the decorators actually go out of their way to make sure a few artful shadows fall in the right places to accomodate the brooders.

Ping heeeeeeeere if you need anything.

This Tamsin was most certainly twenty years older, but you wouldn't think so to look at her face.

She rolled her eyes as she picked up a nametag and pinned it onto her jacket. "So lame."

The years had actually been fairly kind to Kanan, all things considered. He seemed to be aging gracefully, with the exception of a few lines starting to show on his face and a few flashes of grey at his temples. But besides that? He was still in good shape, still seemed to get around with little difficulty. He was blind, not infirm. And even that couldn't stop him from wearing a lightsaber at his hip while he was on the island. There was no way in hell he was going to wear robes to go with it, though. Old habits died hard, and Kanan just didn't see the point.

He also didn't entirely see the point in the nametags - either people would know him or they wouldn't - but he'd agreed to wear one regardless.

Edward had half contemplated the notion of avoiding his fancy dress at all. Perhaps it was that he had actually internalized more posh git than he was comfortable to admit, or perhaps it was just that he liked these clothes - but he found himself wearing a fine suit indeed when he arrived at the mixer.

The fineness of the suit did not preclude him just sticking a nametag on it and calling it good, though.

Cassandra was not wearing formal wear. She refused. If she could avoid wearing gowns to Inquisition functions, she could afford to show up to this mixer in her thinly-armored casual wear, mostly leather and rough fabric.

Eggplant and black.

She ignored the nametags and clomped somewhat awkwardly into the room.

... Yeah, Jono had been living on the island fairly consistently for the past twenty years, but was probably going to need a nametag all the same, for the benefit of those who hadn't been.

If it just said 'Jon' on it, well, he'd always been a bit of a little shit. Time hadn't changed that in the least.

At some ~~undefined because certain people aren't around yet~~ point in time, Dante arrived, having somehow managed to piece together enough money to buy something appropriate - by someone's standards, anyway - that actually fit him.

He picked up a nice, cold glass of tomato juice at the bar, leaned back, and eyed the floor.

Not that Jono would admit it in a million years, but when your spouse was as skilled a chef as Hannibal was, sometimes you just really needed to raid the food tables at a Fandom gathering and make off with as much greasy garbage food as you could get your hands on. Not that most of this was greasy garbage food, granted, but Jono liked to think he had a sixth sense for these things.

Mostly he was just settling for anything that had bacon in it. Anything.

Roscoe hadn't had many clothing options in his old dorm room that he still found acceptable, so he felt underdressed in skinny jeans, a pink button-down and a sport coat. At least his teenage self had kept a decent selection of designer sunglasses to choose from, although the style felt a little dated by 2030s standards.

He sipped a mimosa and idly watched the rest of the alums mingling, looking for a familiar face.

Edited 2016-05-28 13:00 (UTC)

You had better believe Sparkle was here, and he was even dressed up neatly, wearing a suit he'd tailored himself. Nothing was quite so sharp as a well-tailored suit, after all.

And yes, he'd even made sure there was room in his inside jacket pocket for a package of sparklers. Because some things never changed.

"That's a nice suit," Roscoe volunteered after a few moments of (subtly? Not so subtly) eyeing Sparkle up and down from a few tables away. "Looks like an original."

"Home sweet home," Atton muttered as he parked himself in the shadowy area.

He'd gotten hit upside the head last night. He was going to swear up and over that it'd been in some combat engagement, and he had not at all not been paying attention when one of the 10-year-olds had decided to test his reflexes by throwing a lightsaber at his head.

(See, this is why he had never wanted a Padawan.)

Oh, Sparkle would live with being not so subtly eyed, thank you. Especially when he was being eyed by the sort of person he really quite enjoyed eyeing right back.

Hi there.

"That would be because it is," he replied, "and thanks. I'm liking the retro look you've got going there, yourself."

There was amusement in his voice that suggested that he completely understood. Most of what had been in his closet when he woke up this morning had been torn jeans and chopped-up t-shirts.

And see, Sparkle had always gotten along with the kids at the temple! Hell, he'd probably give that ten year old a high five and some candy the next time he found himself visiting Coruscant.

"Hey, look who the cat dragged in," Sparkle drawled, smirking as he made his way over to park himself next to Atton. "Wasn't sure you were going to make it back in time for this thing, you know."

"You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I rejected," Roscoe replied, just as amused. "You know I actually thought I was fashionable?"

Well, he still did. But now his style was better.

"Yeah, well, Brianna thought it was a good idea to get all the kids together for a long lecture about the Force last night," Atton said, rolling his eyes.

Then stopped rolling his eyes. It hurt.

"And I mean long."

Face picked up a tag just in case someone had forgotten how rakishy handsome he was.

"Oh, I knew I wasn't," Sparkle laughed, shaking his head a little, "but I think that was the point. Some kind of teenage rebellion thing I grew out of around twenty."

He winked.

"You should have seen the things I did to my hair. It's a wonder I still have it today."

"So, Brianna did a lecture," Sparkle summarized, smirking a little. "And let me guess, you were stuck in there the whole time. Making sure the kids didn't do anything stupid?"

Because... they were kids. They were smart, for kids, but they were still kids.

"Let me guess, it used to be ten different colors and spiky?" Roscoe laughed.

Smirk.

"I'm lucky I never grew my hair long enough to do much damage to it. But I did wear heels almost every day. We're talking tons of ankle-sprains.."

"She thinks my glowering is a 'handy peacekeeping tool'," Atton groused. "Who let that woman be in charge?!"

Well, you did, Atton, among other people.

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Fandom High 20 Year Reunion Mixer, Community Center, Saturday Evening

Arrive/Pick Up A Nametag

Food/Open Bar

Dance Floor

Dark Corners

OOC

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