icecoldfrost | Solstice Party at 33 Apocalypse Avene, Weds Evening.

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Solstice Party at 33 Apocalypse Avene, Weds Evening.

The sun had barely begun to set when the house on Apocalypse Avenue lit-up like a small supernova. Each of the zombie lawn gnomes each had their own little candle in a cup, and the walk up to the house was strewn with fairy lights between the trees.

In the backyard, you would find wine, mead, fresh fruit, sparklers, and pretty much anything else required for your midsummer solstice party. There was more food in the kitchen, of course, and rather than the traditional bonfire, the residents had rigged their own burning sun in the center of the backyard.

Merry meet and welcome on the longest day!

[Open! If you think you got an invitation, you did! Townies, students, alumni, teachers...all welcome. Up ridiculously early for maximum SP.]

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"We do! Now you can work on your tan," Emma promised from her perch on the porch railing where she was taking a smoke-break. "Hello, Northman. Make yourself at home, there's True Blood in the fridge."

They knew far too many vampires not to keep it stocked, after all.

"So that's an invite inside?" he said with a fangy grin.

Emma just laughed at the fangs and batted her eyes in return. "Yes, that's an invite inside, and into the backyard, and if you catch any of the students drinking you have permission to scare the shit out of them."

"You through the best parties," Eric declared.

"I know," Emma agreed. "True, it's not the social scene of New York, but one does what one can when your house is surrounded by zombie lawn gnomes."

~~And we'll just pretend I can spell, kthx...~~

"If they rise up and attack before dawn, I'll feel like I'm in Bon Temps."

THAT WAS MEAN, ERIC. MEAN. EMMA'S HOUSE WAS NOT BON TEMPS.

The look she gave him was one of sheer horror. "No. They've been decently behaved so far, even if they keep coming back after we trash them."

"If they do revolt, it's your fault, and you have to eat them."

"I've just become vegetarian," Eric lied.

Emma just raised an eyebrow at him. "Telepath."

Which, in Emma-speak, meant 'LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE.' Also, this was Eric. The day he went vegetarian she'd have to give up wine.

"Cheater," Eric accused.

"It's one of the many reasons you find my company amusing," Emma replied cheerfully. "If I were 'good,' I'd be boring."

"And I've known a lot of boring," Eric said. "How have you been keeping yourself occupied, Miss Frost?"

"College, mostly," she said, starting to tick off things on her fingers. "Apparently I'm insane and may be going for three majors. Lying or charming my way into parties I shouldn't be at, living beyond my means, and dealing with rising anti-mutant hysteria."

"So I'm working at 'Dite's for the summer to pay for the glories of higher education, and teaching a community class starting next session for an internship credit through school."

Beat.

"They don't know the class is about psionics or I'd be kicked out of school before they rounded up the pitchforks."

"Three majors?" Eric said, still stuck about halfway up the conversation.

"Three," she said agreeably. "Business, Human Development - which sane schools call 'Education,' and Psychology."

"When people ask, I just tell them I'm going to take over the world."

"And the stupid ones don't believe you," Eric replied.

"They're stupid. I suppose I can't expect them to recognize the truth even when I beat them over the head with it," Emma sighed. "You'd think they'd never seen a blonde co-ed with ambition before."

"Clearly they don't spend time watching those terrible Housewives shows," Eric agreed. "Even if most of them aren't natural blondes."

"Oh my god, their hair." Emma shook her head in disgust. "If they have that much money, can't they afford a decent dye-job? Or a spray-tan that isn't leather?"

"I've seen people who've met the final death who've looked more lifelike," Eric chortled.

Hey, when you were nocturnal, you watched a lot of crappy television.

"How can they recommend their plastic surgeons to anyone?" Emma asked. "I mean, I can understand wanting a nose job, but if mine came out that badly I wouldn't want to screech giddily about it."

"It's utterly grotesque. Obviously, not everyone can age as nicely as you," Emma teased, "but there's no call for being trashy about it."

"Exactly," Eric said. "My personal rule is 'no turning ugly people' anyway."

"Isn't that a general rule?" Emma asked. "I mean, 'no idiots' should be a rule, but it sadly isn't always followed, but you don't see many homely vampires."

"I've met a few," Eric admitted. "Some vampires have no taste."

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Solstice Party at 33 Apocalypse Avene, Weds Evening.

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