<div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/88/2b/7a/882b7a8e5773e2ce3bc7f8b7dcefca89.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Eiryn Grim<br/><strong>Location:</strong>At da Partay, finally.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>All and Sundry<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Socially Awkward is the New Cool<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Something Witchy This Way Comes. (http://41.media.tumblr.com/efec81c4668d854e1713032a3930c8e0/tumblr_nd9bf43l9x1tsaz7eo1_1280.jpg)<br/><hr/>"Dumbass," she thought to herself. "If you wear it because you<em>feel </em>it, it's Goth. If you wear it for a fucking stupid show-and-don't-tell, it's<em>lame</em>."  Sighing, she settled the (fake) athame on her belt. She had<strong>no</strong>fragging clue why she was going to this thing- except she'd sorta half-promised Emmet she'd drop by and meet his sis. She had work that needed doing, and sleep that needed ignoring. On the other hand, she'd probably hear the music up in her flat anyway, so unless she ran for the loft instead, the party'd haunt her whether she was there or not. So, better to be a devil with people you don't know or...something equally crap.<br/><br/>At least being a 'witch' meant she could smoke. Magic herb, oh yass...Of course, she knew perfectly damn well the main reason she was down on the party was because she was single again, and parties sucked to be alone at, and sucked even worse as a place for meeting real people. And she wasn't any good at small talk, anyway. And some folks got creeped out by her art, and said so, and she got pissed off over it, and sorrow ensued...OK, that was several reasons. Plural. Fuckit.<br/><br/>At least she looked appropriately spooky, all pale skin and dark cloak. She'd show the flag, so to speak, long enough to not be written off as a<em> total</em>bitch, and then...go scare some trick-or-treaters to death, or something. That, at least, gave her a grin as she waited for the lift.<br/><br/>When she hit the green, there were fewer people than she had hoped- or feared.  Too few meant you couldn't avoid them, too many meant it was a mob scene. At least it looked like the food had been set up. And, looking more closely, she saw there were a couple of extremely cute chicks parading around in outfits that could be cordially described as 'distracting'. So at least there was eye<strong>and </strong>stomach candy. OK.<br/><br/><em>Showtime. Swallow hard. Wish you hadn't had that last cup of coffee. Step out into the world and...</em><br/><br/>"Yo." She gave a very un-Servant-of-the-Horned-Man wave to whoever was closest, and started moving for the food table. With luck, there'd be some decent..."Oh, CRAP!"  She'd bought a case of beer to kick in, and left it sitting on the table in her kitchenette. Didn't THAT just figure?