firstofitskind | MHA #6, Thursday Evening

Liam and Verity had decided to celebrate the whole 'officially moving in together' with a housewarming of sorts. Never mind that even before the rest of his stuff had made it over there, Liam had basically been living at the apartment in practice if not in name. Look, they wanted to throw a party, they were throwing a party. 'Housewarming' was just a convenient excuse.

The weapons that usually were strewn about the apartment had all been stashed in the bedroom, and there was a good selection of food and drinks (both alcoholic and non) laid out on the kitchen table. They might be in debt to the various restaurants in Fandom for providing the spread, but no one wanted to nosh on Verity's "leftover Chinese food fajita specials." The mice had even been bribed with a selection of the appetizers to stay away from the table of food. (They had not, however, been expressly forbidden from trying to convince anyone to give them food once it had left the table, so... fair warning.)

Coats go in the spare room and please don't touch the Barbie Dream House. Unless invited to by the mice, of course.

[ooc: up early for SP because things like timezones and work get in the way. open to all friends, neighbours, ex-housemates, coworkers, friends-of-friends, etc. basically, if you're an adult you got an invite.]

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Well, Liam had never hosted (or co-hosted) a housewarming before, so they were on fairly equal footing here.

"Octavia, hey. Good to see you!" he beamed at her, not at all put off by that wary look, which he was pretty familiar with by now.

Ignoring the look was really the first step in surviving with Octavia, so things were going pretty well for him!

"Hey, Liam," she said, with a nod. "Happy housewarming?"

Which was apparently a thing.

It probably helped that he'd worn a fairly similar expression fairly often for, oh, the first few years of his life. So he understood the kinds of situations that more or less made that the default.

"Thanks," he said. "I'm sure this is probably bending the rules a bit since it's not really a new place for either of us, but," he shrugged. "I wanted to celebrate, so." And Verity had only somewhat grudgingly agreed.

Octavia took a few seconds to wonder if this was something she and Bellamy should've done when she first showed up.

But, nah.

"Can't see there being too strict rules about parties, anyway," she agreed. "I mean... it's just about having a good time over an excuse, right?"

“Basically,” Liam nodded. “There’s no party police or anything ready to knock down my door.”

[and now it’s my turn to crash and pick up pings tomorrow!]

Octavia paused. "That's... not a thing anywhere, right?" she asked slowly.

Maybe it was a ridiculous question, but she'd pretty much decided you couldn't be sure about anything. And Liam was a safe person to ask.

If he thought it was a ridiculous question, Liam didn't give any indication.

"Not anywhere that I know of," Liam shook his head. "Well," he amended. "Sometimes you might refer to someone as the 'fun police', but that's usually sarcastic. Like if someone knocked on the door right now to complain that we were being too loud." Because this party was clearly out of control. "But no one's gonna get on our case because we're not having the 'right' kind of party or whatever."

Octavia snorted and, if you looked closely enough, maybe there was even sort of a wry smirk? Maybe? Her face did have the muscles for more than just scowling, after all.

"Good, 'cause I wouldn't know how to have one, anyway."

"Would you want to?" Liam asked, eyebrow raised. He was having a hard time picturing it, but you never knew.

The answering shrug was pretty non-committal.

The words weren't much better: "Everyone else seems to come by it naturally."

"I wasn't exactly sure I'd be able to pull this off myself," Liam admitted. "But things seem to be going okay."

Octavia took a thoughtful look around. This was a lot of people, by her standards, by the way.

Then she shrugged. "I guess it's just... people with drinks, huh? Like, that's all it is." A party.

“Basically,” Liam nodded. “Sometimes there’s dancing, but, well...” he shrugged, glancing pointedly around the apartment. It was a good size, but it was no Stark Industries rooftop; certainly not large enough for a dance floor. “Figured food and drinks would be enough for this one.”

MHA #6, Thursday Evening - PARTY!

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