06-11-2018, 08:54 PM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10pt;"][color=black]You're too young to be here. That's what Connie is waiting for someone to say to her. To confront her, to tell her what to do or how to act or who to be. As far as she knows, these people have no clue who she is. She is just another face, another guest. Luckily for her, the guy who seems to be throwing the party is absolutely shit-faced. With most people in attendance already intoxicated, they won't notice an underage girl partaking in the festivities. And if anyone did happen to notice, she'd protest and claim that sixteen is basically an adult and the legal drinking age in most countries is eighteen which means she basically eighteen. Besides, who cares anymore? Most people's parents are dead and Blackfall is known for having...questionable morals. At this point, Connie who not care any less. She's already downed a mai tai within the thirty minutes she has been in attendance and she has no plans of stopping anytime soon. The girl just wants a nice buzz and then she'll go home. Probably. Alcohol calms her. Seems like it, anyways. Stops all the buzzing, stops all the energy within her from feeling like she'll explode if she doesn't do.
She wears a simple outfit: grey-striped crop top, white ripped jeans, a jean jacket, and black vans. Connie thinks it might be something her older sister might wear, if she had one. Dark hazel eyes sweep over the crowd as the girl pilfers yet another fruity cocktail from the drink bar, sipping on it delicately while swaying lazily to the music. Shouting catches her attention, and she finds herself observing a small group of individuals. A beautiful, albeit tiny, woman is surrounded by two others. One is shouting about how the women talking with the other person is illegal, somehow. Not to mention that the host of the party has returned. Thomas, she thinks his name is. He is handsome, though it is marred by his current drunkenness. Then again, she's pretty sure she's drunk, too.
Her limbs feel like clouds as she strolls casually to the snack bar, making the smart decision to break up the constant drinking with lots of snacks rich in carbohydrates. Connie finds her attention drawn to Amren and Thomas once more. She wants to be one of them. She envies the friendship, the state of being known. Ever since her parents died (which is years ago, now), Connie has been on her own. No friends, no family, but she makes do. Honestly, she might actually g over and make conversation were she not so afraid of getting kicked out. She feels like these people don't care, but Connie is not stupid enough to risk her fun just because she's lonely. She isn't some stupid baby.
She wears a simple outfit: grey-striped crop top, white ripped jeans, a jean jacket, and black vans. Connie thinks it might be something her older sister might wear, if she had one. Dark hazel eyes sweep over the crowd as the girl pilfers yet another fruity cocktail from the drink bar, sipping on it delicately while swaying lazily to the music. Shouting catches her attention, and she finds herself observing a small group of individuals. A beautiful, albeit tiny, woman is surrounded by two others. One is shouting about how the women talking with the other person is illegal, somehow. Not to mention that the host of the party has returned. Thomas, she thinks his name is. He is handsome, though it is marred by his current drunkenness. Then again, she's pretty sure she's drunk, too.
Her limbs feel like clouds as she strolls casually to the snack bar, making the smart decision to break up the constant drinking with lots of snacks rich in carbohydrates. Connie finds her attention drawn to Amren and Thomas once more. She wants to be one of them. She envies the friendship, the state of being known. Ever since her parents died (which is years ago, now), Connie has been on her own. No friends, no family, but she makes do. Honestly, she might actually g over and make conversation were she not so afraid of getting kicked out. She feels like these people don't care, but Connie is not stupid enough to risk her fun just because she's lonely. She isn't some stupid baby.
JOLENE, I'M BEGGIN' OF YOU
"please don't take my man" — crow — she/her — characters