Ocelot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gunplay) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
smash_logs2012-06-06 07:02 pm
gunplay) wrote in smash_logs2012-06-06 07:02 pm
HAPPY MEOWDAY MEOW MEOW
Who: Ocelot, and anyone! COME ON IN.
What: IT'S OCELOT'S BIRTHDAY MEOW MEOW MEOW
When: June 6th, evening
Where: room TD-19
Warnings: so far, booze
((pic source))
HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY, MAJOR!
A big colorful banner hung over the open doorway of TD-19, shining those words. And, as if that alone weren't obviously "party time" enough, there was a thumping of music (taken from brawl CD drops) and the sugary warm smell of cakes wafting out into the halls. Inside, Ocelot's unit of identical soldiers were busily maintaining their little hero-worshiping party, some wearing aprons as they brought out a cake, a few wearing party hats over their berets, and a couple laying gifts out onto a table. The rest were hanging around a table laden with alcoholic drinks, though there was never any glimpse of any one of them lifting their balaclavas to take a sip.
The birthday boy himself was arrogantly enjoying the well-trained attention. Self-esteem was rarely a problem when he had his cheerleaders around, but now their adoration of him was going even more over the top. He spun a shotglass between his fingers and held it out for one of them to fill, then knocked it back while another one cheered. One looking in might have assumed he was drinking because it was his 21st year, but... well, he's from Russia.
What: IT'S OCELOT'S BIRTHDAY MEOW MEOW MEOW
When: June 6th, evening
Where: room TD-19
Warnings: so far, booze
((pic source))
HAPPY 21st BIRTHDAY, MAJOR!
A big colorful banner hung over the open doorway of TD-19, shining those words. And, as if that alone weren't obviously "party time" enough, there was a thumping of music (taken from brawl CD drops) and the sugary warm smell of cakes wafting out into the halls. Inside, Ocelot's unit of identical soldiers were busily maintaining their little hero-worshiping party, some wearing aprons as they brought out a cake, a few wearing party hats over their berets, and a couple laying gifts out onto a table. The rest were hanging around a table laden with alcoholic drinks, though there was never any glimpse of any one of them lifting their balaclavas to take a sip.
The birthday boy himself was arrogantly enjoying the well-trained attention. Self-esteem was rarely a problem when he had his cheerleaders around, but now their adoration of him was going even more over the top. He spun a shotglass between his fingers and held it out for one of them to fill, then knocked it back while another one cheered. One looking in might have assumed he was drinking because it was his 21st year, but... well, he's from Russia.
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"Hello Flint," he purred, leaning close to his ear. He hadn't cashed in on that auction bid yet... as exciting as the cowboy slave idea was, making Flint anticipate it was sure to make it sweeter.
"Did you bring yourself to me as a gift? You should know you can't give me something I already bought. Unless you want to give me an extra day for my birthday..."
I THOUGHT I REPLIED TO THIS WHOOPS....
god
Flint tried his hardest to look like he wasn't screaming inside. Personal space! Personal space!
"I, uh. I think I just took a wrong turn..." Now, how to escape without making a scene?