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Post by Rhys Armitage on Nov 17, 2012 10:44:37 GMT -6
(ooc: Everyone is welcome, etc.)
Rhys wandered through his empty house, stopping every few seconds to take down a childhood photo -- namely, anything where he appeared naked. Or fat. He cleared all of the photos off the top of the piano, opened a closet and stashed the frames between two towels, which he then shoved towards the back.
He pulled a pan of pot brownies from the oven -- slightly burnt, but the taste wasn't really the point, was it? -- and wisely cut them into tiny pieces. It had taken him a couple... or three... mishaps involving giving people more drink or drugs than they could handle, but he'd finally kind-of-sort-of learned his lesson. Until he forgot it again, of course.
Stopping in front of his iPod hooked up to speakers, he put on some Top 40 dance-y music he thought girls would want to hear, not knowing that the girl he was currently trying to get with had far more refined music taste than he did.
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Post by Lydia Coulson on Nov 18, 2012 13:02:53 GMT -6
((ooc: Not that it matters but Lydia is wearing This!))Lydia entered the house; really it should have been called a mansion. She peered around, continually turning in circles and such as she walked towards the living room, or where Rhys had told her the living area was located. Finally she found him in front of his iPod. “So, am I going to get to see these embarrassing baby pictures of you?” she asked glancing around, “Oh, here’s one,” she said crossing the room and picking one up off the mantle he had missed. “You were so cute, look at those cheeks and that grin,” she smiled holding it up to his face as if to compare, “I dunno if you’ve really changed that much, I still think you’re pretty cute,” she smiled. It was his birthday; he deserved a few extra compliments. Then holding out a neatly wrapped present to him with a large bow on top she said, “Happy Birthday.” After the third Top 40 song that repeated most of its lyrics, and were not very unique verses at that she walked over to his iPod and shuffled through a few songs before finding ‘Kids’ by MGMT, it seemed appropriate.
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Post by Rhys Armitage on Nov 19, 2012 18:08:22 GMT -6
Rhys turned around and laughed, greeting Lydia with a wave. "Oh God, that's from my first piano recital. Traumatic. Burn it!" he joked. For her benefit, he attempted to match his pose and expression in the photo as she held it up to his face (one of an excitable, over-loved child who was about to find out that he wasn't perfect and amazing at every single thing he put his stubby little fingers to) and shook his head. "Sure, sure, but look at my cheekbones now," he said while motioning to his face, only half-joking.
"Aw, thank you. You didn't have to get me anything. I feel bad now! I just wanted to hang out outside of work," he told her with a head-tilt and small smile, eyes lingering on hers. He had all the material possessions he could ever want, after all. He put the gift down and looked back towards Lydia and his iPod. "Oh, I love this song! Nat got me into it. Like... it's weird but good?" It was telling that the most 'offbeat' song his music selection had to offer was both chart-topping and constantly on the radio, but that was Rhys. People-pleasing, crowd-blending, let's-make-everyone-happy Rhys.
"My friends might be a little fashionably late, sorry," he laughed and shrugged. He was also a bit lax with planning, so most of his acquaintances got a message along the lines of 'yeah yeah, it's whenever, bring whatever, invite whoever...'
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Post by Claire Wilkins on Dec 1, 2012 18:27:51 GMT -6
Claire entered Rhys' home, the rather deceptively large townhouse his mother still occupied, and still couldn't help but silently mouth 'wow' as she moved through to what she assumed was the living room. Spotting him and a dark haired girl by his ipod dock she smiled enthusiastically, "Hey Rhys, Happy Birthday!" she enthused, giving him a quick hug hello, as was her way, before she held up a little gift bag, "And look I know you probably have like... everything you could ever want but I thought I'd get you a little something anyway, in the spirit of birthdays. And no, it's not pot before you ask," she joked with a teasing roll of her eyes as though she'd exasperatedly had just such a conversation with him many times previously.
Putting the gift bag on the side table the blonde smile cheerfully, "Hi, sorry, I don't think we've ever met, I'm Claire," she introduced herself to the other girl, nervously smoothing down the skirt of her dress which had no creases of course but she was paranoid it did. She'd dressed simply, no quite sure where to pitch it in terms of formality, so had went for an old favourite red party dress that had a lace top to it, cinched in at the waist and was completed with a short semi-translucent flared skirt. Fun and floaty, as opposed to form-fitting and short, was more her style of fashion which often made her feel a bit overly formal at such house parties.
((ooc: Well, she's terrible since I haven't written as her in aaaages and have semi-forgotten how to. But hey, she's here, will throw in some more of my characters here asap!))
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Post by Rhys Armitage on Dec 5, 2012 16:48:54 GMT -6
"Claire Wilkins!" Rhys exclaimed warmly, reaching out an arm to hug her. He liked to stay on friendly terms with his former flings; he felt life was too short to dwell in awkwardness. He wandered over to where she'd left his gift, sniffing the small bag and shaking it a little bit as if to confirm what she'd told him.
"Geez, how did I get such a reputation?!" he laughed good-naturedly. "Come on, Lydia here is going to think I do nothing but sit around stoned. I am an accomplished polyglot and semi-mediocre pianist, okay," he said while smiling down at Lydia. While he preferred to spend the majority of his time floating around in a mental state as far from reality as possible, he was making an effort to stay sober(ish) for her benefit. "Want anything, Claire? Beer? Wine? Vodka? Brownie? Protein shake? Shot of wheatgrass?" Rhys asked while sticking his head in the refrigerator.
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