Endless Prom

9:00 | The School Hallways

teendean — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 21:31:56 GMT

Sheldon hadn't been Dean's only run-in at the diner earlier. He'd also overheard a conversation that some much nerdier kid was having... with himself. Muttering and mumbling and messing with some weird looking websites online... He'd shut the lid hard when Dean had walked up behind him, but he'd gotten a glimpse.

Something about rituals, and some of the words that kid was mumbling sounding a lot like 'revenge'.

He'd noticed the ticket poking out of the kid's jacket pocket, and figured that if there was gonna be some kinda action going down here tonight, he'd be on top of it. It wasn't enough to hang a solid lead on though, so he didn't want to bring it to his Dad, seeing as how he was busy with his own hunt. Something he didn't 'want Dean messin' around in' which had led to some arguments on his side, but eventually he buckled down and agreed to do what his old man said.

Nerd could have been all talk, but it was either this or spend the evening with Busty Asian Beauties.

He sure as hell wasn't about to invest in a suit, though, and he hadn't paid enough attention to know the damn prom had a theme. And then there was that whole paying for a ticket thing, that he'd also rather avoid... So he'd just jimmied open a window and landed inside the men's room near the bandroom.

Now he made his way through the halls, eyes and ears peeled for trouble.

9:00 | SCHOOL GYM

prompatrol — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 20:34:41 GMT

With an hour of the night's social events already winding down, there's been some wear and tear on the glamour of the Venetian sunset. Some students who forgot their masquerade masks appear to have taken them from the table decorations, and others have simply given up the ghost early and left theirs on one of the many clothed tables.

Overall, though, the mood has been maintained, and thus far no fire hazards have sparked into actual fires via knocked over candles. The gym is still done up in a flurry of deep, warm colors -- royal blues, purples, rich oranges and heavy reds. There are streamers, balloons, and crescent moons all floating around and hanging near the ceiling to complete the setting.

There's still plenty of food and punch to go around, laid out in a table off to the side, and people seem to be slowly gravitating toward the dance floor in pursuit of the throbbing beat of familiar music. Off in a corner, a photographer is setting up -- ready to take everyone's picture with the promise that he'll be there most of the night. With the stirring of rumors that the punch may have already been spiked, Principal Snyder has begun to make his rounds in an attempt to remind students that, after all, this is a school-sponsored event and certain behavior will simply not be tolerated.

After all, it's still early, and there's plenty of trouble to still be made.

[ Please utilize the subthreads that we will be making for all prom activities. The punch bowl, the bathrooms, and the dance floor will each get their own, and we request that you keep threads taking place there in that subthread. However, if you're picking a different prom location, feel free to make your own subthread. And, like always, if your thread takes place outside of the gym, please make your own post with the location in the subject line. ]

9.00 | The Lake | In Which Jim Kirk Has The Sulks

chairismine — Thu, 04 Aug 2011 13:11:40 GMT

Jim picked the last ice cube out of his plastic cup.
He inspected it for a second or two before lobbing it into the lake. It landed with a unsatisfying plop, just as the others had done. He waited until the ripples faded away and pulled his mobile out of his pocket.

9.05PM. Ten minutes since he'd last checked. A hour since the prom had started. An hour an ten minutes since Sanatana had said she didn't actually want to go to the prom with him anyway. So sorry.
Fan-fucking-tastic.

There was still time to go, if he wanted. Here he was sitting here in his suit, on a park bench in front of the lake. For all the world looking like the world's best dressed hobo. All dressed up with nowhere to go.

He wasn't going home (think of the smug look on his step-dad's face. Fat chance). He no longer had a date to the fucking prom (he should've known it wouldn't have worked out.). Prom night meant every cop in town was on the road (which sucked, because he could have done with a good explosion right now).

Oh, fuck everything. Jim stood, kicked the plastic cup into the lake and didn't feel any better about it. If nothing else, he could find whoever was spiking the punch, nick the beer and drink it all himself. That'd be a good start.

[ooc: feel free to crash his party or retcon texts for the past hour! Jim'll be heading to the prom soonish.]

8:00 | The Choir Room

justignorance — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 19:09:17 GMT

Blaine had passed warming up and had moved into simply having fun. He was singing a mash-up of a few song choices for that night when he saw the door handle to the outside move. And then jiggle and he heard a few choice curse words.

Well, he could just make it easier for them to get inside. So he did, walking across the room, unlocking the door and opening it to reveal a crouching ... man. In a mask, at least. He wasn't going to forget that a minute ago this guy was trying to pick the lock of the door.

"Why do I feel like I just let in a party crasher..."

Something felt wrong and a bit off but Blaine was generally cheery and always friendly.

[ open for spike ]

8:00 | Outside the School

breakmychest — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 18:53:40 GMT

Spike had learned through Facebook that the theme of the prom was Masquerade Ball. Of course, he hadn't bothered to think about that until the day of the prom, so it was a bit late to go buy one. That wasn't such a big problem, though. He'd found a boy with a mask he liked and snapped his neck. It was a nice mask, very Dread Pirate Rogers. It went all the way over his head and the top of his face, with holes for his eyes. It was times like this he wished he had a reflection. He probably looked very dashing.

Not that it mattered how he looked. He was just coming to kill Buffy and her friends and that sort of thing. But still. It was nice to think about.

He found a door that seemed more or less out of the way and knelt down to start picking the lock.

Two minutes later he started cursing violently. If this took much longer, he was going to give up on being subtle and just smash his way in.

[Open, but also continued here.]

8:00 | SCHOOL LIBRARY

slayerdom — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 21:57:38 GMT

After she and McCoy reached the school, Buffy immediately snuck off with her duffel bag to the library. The locks were done, but it took one encouraging slam of the handle to convince it otherwise. God bless Slayer strength. She snuck inside and dropped her bag in the caged area where they'd been keeping Oz over the full moons, paying a visit to Giles to explain the situation and pulling a stake out of the bag to keep with her. She stuffed it into her purse, which was almost too tiny to hold it and her lip gloss.

Then, she slipped back into the halls to move past rows of lockers towards the gym. It'd help her to walk around the long way, to get an idea where people were and make sure that Spike wasn't living up to his threat. Not that she took him too seriously as a general rule anymore -- weeping on Willow's shoulder had cleared that right up. But, last time he'd showed, Cordelia had to be hospitalized.

That wasn't going to happen again.

Once she was satisfied that the halls were clear except for students who'd snuck off to make-out early (raise your hand if tacky), she headed for the gym.

[ to here ]

8:00 | School Parking lot.

fuck_mars — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 02:08:34 GMT

John finishes his beer and sets the empty bottle back in the box, before he smiles at his friends. "Well I guess we should head in there." He says picking up his mask off the dashboard and putting it on.

Text To L McCoy: Are we carrying Jan in or what?

8:00 | SCHOOL GYM: THE PROM

prompatrol — Sat, 02 Jul 2011 03:29:49 GMT

Promptly at 8:00 PM, the gym dooms are propped open by over-eager Student Council volunteers and faculty volunteers, revealing a glance at the final product of this year's Prom Committee. The gym has been entirely transformed (well... more or less) into a romantic display of deep colors: crimson red, rich orange, royal blues and purples, all creating an attempt at a Venetian atmosphere of sorts. The lights are dimmed, and small votive candles sit on each table, just asking to set the nice tablecloths aflame by accident or design. In stark contrast to the teenage recreation of 'classical elegance', popular music of today throbs through the air, prompting scowls from some of the more finely aged teachers.

A fine array of finger foods designed to hit the sweet tooth are laid out on little trays by the punchbowls alongside the far wall, and decorative masks hang from the front of the table. Random flower petals, streamers, balloons, and hanging crescent moons complete the feeling of 'prom', even if they don't particularly seem to accent the theme whatsoever.

The atmosphere however, is charged with excitement. It's prom and anything could and probably will happen. The night is young.

[[ooc: We will subthreads below for the punchbowl, the bathrooms, and the dance floor. If your characters make their way to any of those places, please take the to the appropriate subthread. Anywhere else, you're free to start your own thread, or hijack someone else's!]]

7:45 } { main street

ilove_atallman — Sat, 25 Jun 2011 14:33:41 GMT

[There's a flash of lights as a car blares down main street, but when the headlights fade, Ruby is left standing in it's wake, dressed in a very pretty prom dress but otherwise looking unimpressed. The thing isn't the worst thing in the world to move in, but it's still not the most comfortable.

Not that she cares.

She probably SHOULD be going to grab her date right now, but she's in the middle of being a little busy and trying to avoid some of the demons that have swung into town.

So she'll just hang out here until Cas decides to come pick her up. Good plan.]

7:00 PM / the TARDIS

raggedydoc — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 01:11:20 GMT

The Doctor frowned at the coordinates displayed on his screen. America? He didn't even like America - well, he didn't dislike it, but he hadn't been there for awhile. It just didn't have the excitement that Britain did. And the biscuits weren't nearly as good. (In fact, American biscuits just confused him. So did their collective addiction to coffee, though it was certainly better than that ridiculous concoction they'd made of dried boiled chicory when boycotting the East India Company's tea during the revolution.) At any rate, he didn't really understand who or what was broadcasting a mauve alert in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, from a spatial-temporal perspective.

He did rather hope it wasn't Jack, though.

Or Daleks.

It was probably just some innocent traveller stranded lightyears from home, he told himself. One who'd be glad for a bit of help because they were lost and scared and confused.

"Well, it looks like we've taken a bit of a detour," he said out loud. It was the sort of thing that he suspected might make Amy a little shouty - although she should have grown accustomed to the detours, really, because they happened quite often. Maybe she wouldn't notice. Maybe she was too preoccupied with Rory to ask where they were. Maybe-

No. He was pretty much doomed. They were never going to make it to DisneyPlanet. Which was a shame, because he'd really been looking forward to getting a pair of mouse ears.

7:00 l The Choir Room

justignorance — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 18:43:46 GMT

[ from here ]

Blaine was the first one to arrive which wasn't exactly a surprise. He was eager. Excited. And any time he could stand alone in a room and belt out notes other less talented folk wished they could hit was a good time to him. Besides, he not only had to warm up, but he had to ready himself. He was going to prom. Senior prom and not his prom at that but it was like a ... prom test drive. His prom was next year and hopefully then the class would spring for a band but this year he was a part of the entertainment. He had to make sure these seniors had the prom of their life.

Setting down his mask on an empty chair, Blaine didn't waste any time before getting right to it, warming up.

So, there he was, doing a few dance moves, a turn here, a jump on one of the chairs there. A new song was stuck in his head, "The Big Bang" by Rock Mafia and he found himself singing that, sliding down into the chair he was standing on a minute ago. Moving across the classroom, he grabbed a music stand and spun it around before lowering to his knees, sliding really, before leaning back.

The song having ended, he stayed in that position, stretching himself out before sitting up.

[ OPEN to any Glee club-ers, etc. ]

7:30 | Solomon Residence

amazonhomemaker — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 21:47:53 GMT

HARRY!

[Sally's yell resounds through the residence, and she stomps her way out of the bathroom, wearing a tight red dress that shows off her bazongas. Her hair however, looks like one helluva hot mess. She holds up a tiny vial that is now totally empty, and glares down the other alien]

I thought you said this was STYLING GEL you bought. It looks like the blob threw up in my hair.

7:00 | School Parking Lot

fuck_mars — Sat, 18 Jun 2011 07:36:31 GMT

John pays for his Slurpee and cigarets and leaves the 7/1l, he drives over to the coffee shop and picks up Jan at the coffee shop, before heading over to Monty's house and picking him up.

They drive over to the school and park in the back lot, there aren't many cars there yet which is good considering the flask stashed in John's glove box and the six pack of Blue Moon under the back seat. He is wearing a simple black suit hair slightly ruffled and this mask is sitting on his dash board.

7:00 | Dita's Place

iluvaliens — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 05:38:49 GMT

Dita had only just transferred to West High School a month before prom. She was figuring everything out but didn't want to miss the event. To her, the new school was like being on a whole different planet. Men and women freely mingled with each other and no one found it strange. She felt like the alien here. She missed all of her friends back home but she liked her new school so far. She was in awe of everyone she met. They all seemed so amazing.

She studied her reflection in the mirror, smacking her lips together playfully. She didn't get dressed up very often so this was kind of fun to do. She touched the curls framing her face gently. It had been a lot of fun trying on all the different styles but she liked the elegant updo the best.

It suited her dress wonderfully. With a grin to her reflection, she stood up and swayed in front of the mirror a few times. The skirt swished around her legs, rhinestones glinting brightly. She felt like a princess. Maybe tonight would be the night she met her alien!

Excitement colored her cheeks. She couldn't wait for prom to start. Dita picked up her purse and checked her phone one last time. There was a short while of time to go before she had to leave. She was excited to see everyone's dresses. She wondered if the boys would be wearing them too. She didn't know what they wore to events like this. Most pictures showed them in tuxedos, but that seemed so boring! Most of them all looked the same. She hoped they wore something cool.

[OOC: This is mostly just a narrative introduction to Dita. However, if you would like anyone to stop by or text or call or whatever, feel free to!]

7:00 | The Grimm Household

2minutes_older — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 02:54:44 GMT

She shouldn't be nervous. Not really. Yes, it was prom, but it wasn't that big of a deal. Or maybe it was. She still couldn't quite believe that Mohinder had asked her, though if he hadn't, she would have asked him. So no reason to be nervous. Her brother was out doing whatever it was John was planning for pre-prom. Her grandparents had promised not to embarrass her. So family embarrassment should be at a minimum.

She had just enough time to check her hair and dress one last time when she heard the doorbell. Calling out that she'd get it, she hurried downstairs, smiling as she opened the door.

(7:00) The Boarding House

historyrepeater — Sat, 04 Jun 2011 19:04:02 GMT

Stefan hadn't started getting dressed yet. Instead, he was sitting on his bed, his diary in his hand. He needed a few minutes to himself, never mind the afternoon he had to himself, that hadn't counted considering he spent most of it trying to come up with their next move. All he had come up with was, talk to Damon. Buffy was a vampire killer with superhuman abilities and a broken heart which would make her even more volatile. Stefan had also spent the afternoon researching.

There was lore of a vampire slayer. One girl in all the world who apparently was called to slay them - vampires. She was superhuman and if she died, another one was called. Damon would have no problem getting rid of her if she became a problem, but an endless conveyor belt of Buffy's? Could they handle that?

Sliding off the bed, he picked up one of the books he had brought before heading downstairs. Damon and he needed to come up with a game plan for Katherine, Buffy, and quite possibly the Buffy's that followed.

A part of him wished Zach were still alive. Or, Lexi. She could calm him down. And he still needed to get dressed. But first, he had to do the younger (but clearly much wiser) brother thing.

Normally, he would complain and grumble about Damon being a chaperone but he needed his brother there tonight. They needed to work together. One way or another, people were going to die tonight - and Stefan would much rather prevent it.

Coming into the main room, Stefan opened the book to the passage on Slayers. Damon was standing by the fire, his signature glass of scotch in his hand.

"We have a problem."

Correction, the possibility of a never ending problem.

[ooc: For Damon but anybody else who wants to text either Stefan/Damon or wants to drop by later on in the hour before prom, can. Katherine, whomever. We're easy! Just put who you want in the title of the comment. ]

7:00 | The suburbs

imthecostner — Sun, 29 May 2011 19:28:52 GMT

The best part about prom night? Going to pick up your date.

Not.

Gabriel had no real desire to meet Cassie's parents, because he... Honestly didn't care, and he was only going to prom so the two of them could mock the rest of the population and possibly spike the punch. Also, Cassie could probably make a bundle ensuring whiny teenage girls they were sure to make prom queen with her nifty powers.

It had been tough sneaking out of the ~~Cullen house~~ angel HQ, but as he outranked every other angel, no matter what his vessel looked like, he won, and he got to do what he fucking wanted. Per usual. Geez, if it wasn't such a pain in the ass to jump off the celestial towers and shed your Grace, he'd have done it a long time ago.

But fuck, he liked his Grace and going into hiding was hard when everyone figured you were going to do it one way or another. That whole fascination with human pleasures would get you every time.

....halfway down the street, Gabriel realized he'd missed Cassie's house about a block ago and doubled back. Dammit. He really needed to introspect less. Once positioned out on the lawn in his already-rumpled suit with the corsage in one hand and a rock in another, he stared up at Cassie's window- or what he hoped was Cassie's windows. Angel-stalker senses don't fail him now. He paused for dramatic effect and then threw it. And then another. And another.

...Dammit. If she didn't answer soon, he was either going to throw the whole damn corsage at the window or fly up into the trees like a real creeper. Anything to avoid the front door.

[[OOC: For Cassie Holmes, anyone who's picking up their dates, and anyone who wants to question the guy in the suit out walking the streets.]]

7:00 | THE BUSHES

breakmychest — Fri, 27 May 2011 14:06:05 GMT

Spike wasn't sure where his bright idea to go to Buffy's prom had come from. It probably had something to do with arguing with her on Facebook. That and not being very good at backing down. Oh well. The plan had been made, and he'd even stolen some fancier than usual clothes. He wasn't bothering with the dress coat, of course. His duster over a nice shirt was as fancy as he'd get for crashing a high school prom. The only reason he was bothering with anything nicer than usual was because he wanted to fight Buffy, not the entire bloody school.

First he needed to find the girl, though. Maybe get a pre-prom workout. Or just go ahead and snap her neck just for the hell of it. He'd never been great at sticking to plans. He wandered around in the dark, off the path, hoping to find her.

Or maybe find someone to eat. He'd had some blood from a random human earlier, but he wasn't averse to indulging in a bit of snacking.

[OOC: Namely for Gabriel so that... they can have creepy bush chats, but open to anyone who wants to chat with Spike or just... hang out in the bushes. I KNOW YOU ALL WANT TO. THE BUSHES ARE WHERE IT'S AT, MAN.]

7:00 | The Quik Stop

mackdaddyjersey — Tue, 24 May 2011 15:49:15 GMT

Just like every day, anyone walking past the Quik Stop Convenience Store / Video Rental shop would see a bright yellow coat outside - but today things were a little different than usual. Jay's usual partner in crime was nowhere to be seen, and as a result of this, Jay's expression was unusually dour. He didn't exactly know what the word 'dour' meant, but that didn't stop him from projecting it. He was pretty sure this was what phantom limb felt like. He actually kept turning towards where Silent Bob was usually stationed behind him and beginning to say something brilliant, only to trail off as he realized that fat fuck was nowhere to be seen.

"Check out the rims on that fly ass bitch, tubs of fun," he said with a huge grin as he watched a hottie slide by, and then scowled again when a) he realized Bob still wasn't there and b) the chick looked him over like he was not only dirt beneath her feet, but probably a mental case too.

"Like you never fucking talk to yourself!" he shouted after her, slumping back against the wall.

"Man, this blows," he muttered.

[OOC: Wide open, for PROSE or ACTION SPAM, I'll follow your lead. Jay & Bob peddle their illegal wares here all the time, so if anyone's looking to score some drugs, this is the place. Or to... go to the Quik Stop too, I guess. Feel free to threadjack or make a new thread.]

(7:00) the fancy restaurant.

concocter — Mon, 23 May 2011 23:24:51 GMT

The scene starts off with a shot of New York City, as all good movies tended to start. The moon hung high in the sky; the stars shimmered brightly amidst the clouds ... not that they could be seen beyond the city's illuminating glow, but they were still there, regardless. Flash forward to a group of teenagers, all dressed elegantly, entering a large hotel lobby. The group of individuals are all laughing and whispering amongst themselves -

Until she walks in, and the group all hushes. Or, rather, they would have hushed, had they not all started sighing dreamily to themselves at the sight of her. Dressed in a lush block gown with golden adornments, she was a perfect picture of beauty -

Blair's daydream was shattered by the sound of Dorota calling her name. "Miss Blair, we are here -"

"Dorota, you know not to interrupt me when I'm imagining what my prom is going to be like!" Blair snapped, giving her maid the usual Waldorf death glare. "Especially considering prom is in a matter of hours! Do you have any idea what you have done? How my confidence could potentially be shattered?"

Dorota appeared flustered, looking down. "You look beautiful, Miss Blair. Like a princess."

This appeared to appease Blair, who floated out of the limo that she had rented (she had said she was going to rent the nicest limo in the state, hadn't she? And she had kept that promise.) as if she were a fairytale princess. Cinderella, perhaps, stepping out of her carriage. ... Speaking of, why hadn't she rented a carriage? She'd have to look into that. "Thank you, Dorota. Did you really expect anything less? I mean ... come on. I'm Blair Cornelia Waldorf, daughter of Eleanor and Harold Waldorf. I have an image I have to uphold at all times of the day! No, at all times of my life! You understand, don't you?"

Dorota muttered her agreement, but at this point, she couldn't even hear her. No, she was too busy once again lost in the swirl of images flashing through her mind. Her prom was going to be perfect. Nothing was going to go wrong.

... But, she supposed, if something did go wrong, she was still invited to go to the prom at Constance. She could always rely on Nathaniel to be her date for that, at least.

Sweeping elegantly (or so she tried to do. Except, she did it perfectly.) into the restaurant, she gave her name at the front. She had made a reservation, and had asked for the best table, and was given just that. A special corner, laid out with sparkling lights. It was perfect.

"That is all I will need of you for now, Dorota," Blair dismissed the woman with a wave of her hand, turning to look at her with a smile. "I'll see you when I get home. Be sure not to cry too much in my absence, okay? You know crying makes your face splotchy and that's not allowed."

Dorota, bless her heart, simply nodded her head and left. How was she getting home? Who knew. It didn't matter to Blair at that moment. All that mattered was that tonight was the night every girl wished for. It was going to perfect. It had to.

(free, though she'd probably want serena first and foremost. for any of the girls in blair's "group", feel free to come and what with her, too, since she does have a table. if not, she'll talk to anyone. .... for the ... most .... part.)

(7:00) The Diner

perspectiveguy — Mon, 23 May 2011 18:58:43 GMT

Even before stepping inside, Xander had to loosen his bowtie. In an uncharacteristic moment of maternal pride, his mother had to take pictures – and then she had to tighten his bowtie. It’s not that he thought he could pull off the skinny tie but at least it would have been more comfortable. He dabbled with the idea of taking it off together but the night had just started.

Then again, who was he trying to impress?

Yanking it looser, he pulled it off completely and pocketed it. Unbuttoning the top button, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Pulling open the front door, he stepped aside when a promly couple arrived. He had manners! Where he learned them, he wasn’t quite sure. But, they were there. Under the surface and his hair that had way too much gel in it.

Finally, he made his way inside – alone – and watched as the young couple was seated. He tried to place who they were but he didn’t recognize them. He proudly, or as proudly as he could manage, announced his going stag to prom this year. And then, he tacked on an embarrassingly long ramble that ended with, “…but, really, the first Die Hard is clearly the best.”

Sometimes, Xander couldn’t even follow his own train of thought.

He sat alone at a booth for two grateful for the leg room. The menu was slapped down as he ordered a beer. Of course, the waitress asked for ID. He stuck with coke. Maybe he could pretend. Or, maybe he should’ve taken his Uncle Rory up on that shoddy fake ID. Shoddy worksmanship was better than no worksmanship at all.

He scanned the menu, trying to blend into the booth. He just had to get in and get out. And then he would meet Buffy at the library and prom would start. And…maybe it wouldn’t be as painful as he knew it was inevitably going to be. Forgetting about the menu, Xander let his eyes wander. He hoped Cordelia liked her dress. It was the least he could do past a card apologizing for the pole to her gut. The waitress returned and he asked for a few more moments.

Maybe the night wouldn’t be a complete trainwreck. Maybe Spike would stay away. Maybe, for one night Buffy could be normal and Xander could be the best friend of the normal girl.

Maybe.

[ For Cordy, but anyone can run into/recognize him before they connect. Or, for that matter, outside in the parking lot, the bathroom – etc. And, anybody else at the diner replies to this anyway. ]

(7:00) 7/11

slayerdom — Sun, 22 May 2011 08:20:05 GMT

To say that Buffy looked out of place in the dilapidated flickering fluorescent lights of the 7/11 was to say that water looked kind of wet. She was dressed in a short red formal dress with thin straps, her hair tied up (albeit, she hadn't quite mastered the art of the neat up-do yet) and her makeup fresh. Her heels were high and red, and they looked hard to exist in, let alone walk. Out of her tiny, shimmery red fabric purse, she pulled some wadded up bills and paid the cashier for a bag of Smartfood^™ popcorn, two big liter bottles of water and a protein bar.

And this was seriously going to be her pre-prom dinner. Classic Buffy Summers, living her stellar Slayer lifestyle. You know, some people were out at fancy places, like Breadstix or whatever. With dates, even! What a concept. That was a normal teenager's version of prom preparation. That, or alcohol and a limo or something. But, not Buffy. No, instead, she was standing in a 7/11 with a duffel back stuffed with weapons and a spare set of casual clothes at the top to hide the variety of stakes, the axe and the crossbow, crosses and holy water within.

She took her change from the cashier and stuffed it into her tiny purse again, then reached up unconsciously to brush her fingers over the familiar silver cross around her neck. Lately, she kind of hated that cross, but not wearing it tonight was just stupid.

Because this wasn't just prom she had to prepare for. It was prom on the Hellmouth. And the Hellmouth was going to turn this into Buffy and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Prom if it had its way. Between Spike's threats (okaaaay, so maybe they might have been more like promises -- instigated promises) and the general promise of this town ruining anything nice in the universe, she had to be ready. Which meant quick stop for dinner, quick stop at the library, and onto the gym to hope that she didn't need the kind of heat she was packing.

Then again, if wishes were horses …

She unzipped her duffel a little and stuffed the water bottles into it, zipping it back up and grabbing her snacks off the counter. Long live overly processed American cuisine. Maybe she should have opted for a twinkie or something. And God help her if she ran into vampires on her way to the school. If she broke a heel before she even got into the gym, they were going to wish they were -- okay, so technically? Already dead. So wishing they were dead would kind of be, well, redundant. But they'd wish they were dead-dead like non-existy dead.

[ Free! Meaning anyone can reply to it if they want to. She'll also be at the library later in the hour to drop her bag off there. ]

7:00 : MCDONALD'S

illjustdieagain — Sun, 22 May 2011 06:42:53 GMT

McDonald's wasn't exactly Nathan's first choice for pre-prom hangout. After picking Wichita up and doing the lovey-dovey picture taking thing -- well, just on their phones, but that still counted for something -- they hopped in his car and started driving around. Nathan couldn't decide how he felt about the whole thing. That is, was he putting too much effort into all this prom bullshit? Or too little? And what if they actually won?

And then he remembered he was Nathan Young and stopped giving a flying fuck.

He had been slowly meandering towards Lookout Point in hopes of getting some pre-prom snoggage and possibly shaggage going. And then Wichita had to ruin everything by threatening to punch him in the face if he brought her anywhere near Lookout Point. What the fuck else were they supposed to do in town?

McDonald's it was. They were the epitome of class, sitting at one of the booths in their fancy prom get-ups. Nathan was slowly drinking his McFlurry, if by slowly drinking his McFlurry you meant chewing on the straw/spoon apparatus while staring longingly at Wichita's cleavage. The dress was perfect. Perfect for looking at them, that was.

[For Wichita.]

[Just a reminder for how the game works: posts to any other location can be formatted similar to this one. Even though the top post is directed to one person, any other threads taking place at McDonald's (for example) should go in this post.]