<div class="floatleft">(https://imgur.com/MyXF7VZ.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Emma Grey (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=337584.msg16026944#msg16026944)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Patio table<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong><del>Black jacket</del>, Black top, Belt, Jeans,<del>Sneakers</del><br/><strong>Content Warning</strong>:<br/><strong>Optional</strong><br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Patio Posse (Chloe, Jonathan, Lance) and Friends<br/><hr/><br/>Emma was starting to regain an appreciation for the glorious invention of cushions while the boys and Chloe had their flirty fun. Her hands kneaded into the edge of the couch like Emma was practicing her own massage techniques. Whatever it was that she felt under her fingers prompted a thoughtful nod from the inebriated woman left to muse over whatever topic happened to grab her fancy. Currently, that meant wondering if she could get away with tossing a couch cushion into Jonathan's lap when he returned. Emma wasn't saying he was bony, and sure, she brought plenty of her own natural padding, but darn it, this was the kind of couch you could just sink into and get lost in forever. Come to think of it, a nap sounded pretty nice right now...<br/><br/>The return of her Chair snuffed out any hope Emma's brain had of tricking her into calling it a night, sleeping it off, and dealing only with a mild hangover in the morning. There was a short consideration given to having the best of both worlds by promoting her Chair to her Pillow, but Emma knew that would likely earn her the ire of Izzy and a few of the other guests.<br/><br/>So back onto Jonathan's lap Emma went, half rolling up his leg and trying to make the rest of the climb by grabbing onto his shoulder and hoisting herself into place. Of course, Jonathan ended up doing a lot of the work, but Emma still looked pretty pleased with herself. "<strong>Nope.</strong>" Emma smiled proudly at the declaration of her Chair's unmourned absence. That look slowly melted into something more playful as her hand moved along Jonathan's shoulder and started to explore along his back. "<strong>Hm, okay, <em>maybe</em> a little.</strong>" It wasn't the soft comfort of a couch cushion, but her fingertips bristled with a desire to curl and grope that Emma had to consciously restrain. Thankfully, she wasn't grabby drunk. Yet.<br/><br/>"<strong>Woo! More drinks!</strong>" That reply and two triumphantly raised arms, one of which still clung to a sloshing and mostly empty bottle of dark alcohol, was Emma's response to Arthur and Chloe's plan to raid the kitchen for more booze. The thought of being left alone didn't seem to cross Emma's mind until a tightening grip brought her attention back to Jonathan. The excited smile that Emma wore started to fade, replaced by an almost dumbfounded look. It felt like the moment to sample what the second half of the party might have in store -- to see what she felt and to discover the truth about how much of her heart was really into Izzy's game.<br/><br/>But alas, before Emma could make the first move of lowering her face partly toward Jonathan's to see if he would close the rest of the distance, the inside came out to greet them. That fleeting moment of 'what if' drifted away as swiftly as it had arrived, its voice lost in the sudden deluge of jubilant greetings of faces both old and new. Being separated and placed back on her feet only served to put the opportunity firmly out of reach. Emma was unsure how she felt about this loss -- just as unsure as her legs seemed to be after the unexpected change of elevation.<br/><br/>"<strong>Butterflies? Pfff.</strong>" Emma rocked in place as though her exhale of air was enough to threaten her balance. She didn't want to be a butterfly. Butterflies were what basic bitches tattooed on their ankles when they were feeling rebellious but couldn't summon up a personality other than pretending to be cute. Butterflies were<em>lame</em>. "<strong>I wanna be a social praying mantis.</strong>" Emma showed her teeth and chomped in Jonathan's direction, either unaware of the implications or too drunk to care. After all the calories she had consumed from the Patrón, Emma probably wouldn't be up for some post-sex cannibalism anyway.<br/><br/>"<strong>Heeey!</strong>" Emma moved toward the crowd, not really addressing anyone in particular but happy to ramble on all the same. "<strong>You guys out here to put a stop to Chloe's tyranny? She won't let us win.</strong>" The brunette pouted and glanced down at her pink-painted toenails as if to say 'look what that evil Chloe made me do.'<br/><br/>Of course, adding more people meant Emma's own odds of detaching herself from Jonathan dropped even more. Emma didn't seem to register that quite yet, or if she had, she wasn't outwardly bothered by the prospect. "<strong>I'm stuck sitting on this guy until I win.</strong>" Emma pointed at Jonathan with a thumb. "<strong>Had to watch an <em>awful</em> Britney Spears impression too. All in all, it's been rough out here. How are you guys getting along?</strong>"