Third Annual Quistis Ball

[OceanEyes28]

Once Ocean spotted who she considered to be the cutest Iowan ever, it was time for a goddamn hug. "Hold this!" she said as she handed Che her pint before making a flying leap into Rocky in an attempt to squeeze all the oxygen from his body. "Oh don't worry, Gypsy," Ocean said, "I'm coming for you next."

While Ocean had Rocky in her huglock, she spotted what was mostly likely Sasquatch sitting at the bar. The rifle tipped her off. Ocean and Sasquatch rarely agreed. The things they could agree on were Guinness is good, sex is also good, and pedophilia was, Ocean assumed, uncool. "Cheers, soldier!" she waved.

Ocean finally released Rocky and greeted Gypsy with a hug that was a bit less like an assault.

.........uh

((OOC: .....I have no idea where to go from here. Post over.))

[Xithor]

The teleport stone flashed and Xithor entered into the Calm Lands cracking his neck and brushing off grass from the sleeve of his black sports coat. Looking down towards his feet he saw a little moogle standing there.

"Welcome to the Third Annual Quistis Ball! My name is Stiltzkin."

"You're a moogle correct?" Xithor inquired, having heard of such creatures before but never actually having the chance to meet one.

"I am indeed sir! Welcome to the Calm Lands. The ball is straight ahead in the Garden." Stiltzkin replied with a smile.

"Thank you for the welcome." Xithor drew back his coat tail and stuck his right hand into his pant pocket. Striding into the Garden he looked around examining the going ons that he had missed. I guess fashionably late is better than never he thought to himself. Looking to is left he saw a women in an orange satin dress talking with a man in a black cape trench coat pointing back at a fallen T-Rex behind him, Where in the world did that thing come from, there has to be a story behind that. Walking into the Garden he proceeded to the bar and sat at a stool awaiting for the bartender to come attend to him.

"What will it be for you?" The bartender inquired.

"I'll have a Rum and Coke." Xithor replied and placed 10 gil on the counter top, "keep the change."

The bartender quickly made him his drink and thanked him for the tip, "Don't just sit her though, go mingle."

Xithor chuckled, "Hahaha I may not be new here but I am far from being a normal. I'll circulate though." As he spun around in the stool a woman in a red dress ran by him and appeared to attack a man with a huge hug. Laughing to himself he proceeds to get up and have a conversation with someone.

(OOC: Maybe a little late but I thought I'd jump in on the fun lol, PM to let me know if anyone wants to interact I'd be happy to, or include me in your post and I'll go from there)

[Sasquatch]

Adam quickly unloaded the spent casing from his grenade launcher. Luckily, the soft "thoomp" sound it made did not draw too much attention over the music. The focus instead was less than two hundred yards away, on the giant tyrannosaurus that had just been blown backward by what looked like an extremely powerful, somehow explosive, punch. The man who delivered the punch looked like he had done it to impress his date, and it looked like it had worked. Adam was impressed with his own timing, factoring in the delay of the grenade travelling to let it strike the dinosaur at the exact same time as the other man's jumping uppercut. Satisfied with his "good deed", Adam smirked, closed the breech on his M203, turned back towards his Guinness, and slung his weapon again across his back. "Might not get laid tonight," he thought to himself, taking another sip, "but at least I could get an 'assist' for that guy."

"Hey there! What's with the rifle man? Oh, sorry I haven't even introduced myself. Name's Andrew, what's yours?"

Adam turned and looked at the young man standing next to him, in a white dress shirt and black pinstriped pants. After an initial thought of, "dammit, everybody's dressed up but me," he extended a hand. He accompanied his firm handshake with, "I'm Adam, good to meet you." Noticing that Andrew was still warily eyeing his rifle, he reassured him. "Don't worry, it's not like I'll go postal or anything. It's just something I've always kept with me recently. You know, hazardous workplace environment and all."

He watched Andrew glance around him -- at the sling, then the rifle, then the camouflage pants, then down to the dusty boots -- and waited as the understanding quickly came to him. Andrew exhaled as he nodded, the old "ah, I've got it now" nod.

If Andrew said any more at that point, Adam didn't notice. Some nearby commotion had drawn his attention, just some hugging between friends. But one of them was a stunningly gorgeous redhead in a red dress, who, while still hugging, turned to him and waved. He became immediately jealous of both whoever the hell she had her arms around and the man she had just handed her drink to. He raised his glass to her, consciously making sure his jaw didn't noticeably drop. But he recovered quickly from the initial shock of the girl's beauty, and instead raised his lips into what he wanted her to consider a sexy little smirk, uttered a low and confident, "well, hi," and took another sip, noticing that he was getting close to needing a fresh, full beer. He assumed that the girl was Ocean, whom he had encountered a few times but never actually met, by her hair color. They didn't agree often, but that made her more intriguing. She seemed like a mix between girl-next-door sweet and biker-wife stern, with just enough of each. The type of girl that Adam would intentionally aggrivate because the angry sex would be unbelievably good, then be extra sweet to because the make-up sex would be just as incredible. Yep. Adam loves redheads.

He shrugged off the erotic thoughts and finished the last swig of his beer. As he got up and walked toward the bar, he noticed that there was no moogle behind it. But as he approached, the moogle quickly climbed back up the stool and set two things down in front of him, then looked up at Adam with a satisfied smile on his little moogle face. Adam looked down at the bar and immediately thought, "the little guys are awesome." In front of him on his right was a freshly poured Guinness, nearly settled, frost still covering most of the glass. To the left of that was a forty-millimeter grenade that the bartender had retrieved from Adam's gear.

"Ready for another one, kupo?" The moogle was referring to both the beer and the grenade.

"Actually, I doubt I'll need that grenade. I can just leave the rest of them with my gear, if that's alright." Adam chuckled, realizing that the bartending moogle, at least, had noticed his launching of a high-explosive-dual-purpose grenade into the skull of a tyrannosaurus, but seemed to have no qualms with somebody firing a grenade launcher in the middle of the Garden. He took the old grenade's spent cartridge out of his pocket, but before he could ask where to throw it away, the moogle hopped onto the bar and grabbed it out of his hand. He hopped back down, and Adam had to stand up and lean over the bar to see that he was putting it aside to be washed with the shot glasses. He wondered to himself how long the night would go before somebody was taking shots of whiskey out of it.

Adam grabbed his fresh beer, savoring the first cold sip of the glass. He walked back into the small crowd and sat back down, absorbing with his eyes the many types of beautiful scenery to be enjoyed.


[OOC: ... alright, what now?]