<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/>"<strong>Sic semper tyrannis!</strong>" It was a celebratory cry -- a call to get the party started and rally everyone to the cause. Chloe and Rose were going<em>down</em>-- or at least their underwear was. Emma smirked at her own thoughts, the expression lingering on her face overly long. In case it wasn't clear that the brunette was firmly under the influence, she raised her arms with a triumphant "<strong>Woo!</strong>" and put away away another mouthful of Patrón.<br/><br/>Emma's face was scrunched up in a sour way when she lowered the bottle. That shot hit different. Emma gave the bottle a second look, winced at the amount of alcohol that was missing, and then found a piece of furniture on which to surreptitiously place the Patrón down. Parties where the drinks, drugs, and dick were plentiful seemed to attract Emma like a moth to a flame, and that vast experience was enough to usually tell her where the line between 'fun, inhibitionless night' and 'miserable, someone hold my hair night' was. Hopefully she hadn't crossed it in her haste to feel comfortable with this particular brand of party.<br/><br/>Emma seemed to perk back up at Jules' introduction of himself and Rose -- or to be more accurate, Emma took a keen interest in the whole blazer situation. "<strong>Daaamn. Mister Muscles has some game.</strong>" A hand reached out to find one edge of the blazer which Emma then shamelessly pulled aside as if she couldn't believe that there was actually a shirtless Rose under there. "<strong>Holy shit. Shirt first, huh? I like it.</strong>" Emma confirmed her approval of Rose with a few nods of her head and then locked eyes with the nearby Jules. Emma's eyes drew a few invisible lines between the two of them before she offered the bodyguard a completely unsubtle grin that just screamed "You<em>have</em>to hit this." There were probably plenty of people better suited to playing wingman, but Emma was on board nonetheless.<br/><br/>"<strong>Hey! You guys <em>have</em> to try out the sofa. It's amazing.</strong>" Emma had already drunkenly wrapped herself around Rose's arm and gave it a pleading tug in the direction of where Jonathan and herself had been sitting. Rose and Jules seemed like Emma's kind of fun and she wanted a front row seat to see what might happen next. And if some of Rose's luck just so happened to rub off? Well, that was just a nice bonus.<br/><br/>Of course, whether or not Emma could join them was currently at the mercy of the Chair that was busy pretending to be a Jonathan. So, for now, Emma let her attention drift out toward the others that were congregating around the table. Much like how celestial bodies capture everything around them, it was Donavon, the largest of the guests, whose gravity pulled in Emma's gaze. "<strong>Jesus, you're tall.</strong>" The filter between brain and mouth was basically gone at this point, just as non-existent as Emma's ability to recognize that she was stating the obvious. "<strong>You should play basketball or something.</strong>"