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Ain't no party like a Tronhaus party [open]
Walking is Zen.
theuserabides wrote in singularitylogs
'Cause a Tronhaus party don't stop until the guests have set the buffet table on fire and thrown it into the pool, and probably not even then.

who ; All the everybody
what ; Housewarming, Tron-style
where ; The newly-occupied Tronhaus in Zone 05 (Gibson) [subject to change if any of the Troncast absolutely hate the idea]
when ; 4/15
warning(s) ; None currently
notes ; Tag yo'self, and I'm turning off notifs, so if you need me, hit up my contact post.

The elevator whisks you up to the penthouse level of a skyscraper in Zone 05. You could follow the music, but you don't have to, because the apartment occupies the whole floor.

Welcome to the Grid...sort of. Flynn's clean, geometric design aesthetic has carried over to the real world, but here it's been rendered entirely in natural materials--slate and sandstone, hardwoods, linen and raw silk, all in grays and earth tones. The overall effect resembles having walked into an issue of Architectural Digest.

A catered issue of Architectural Digest. Grab a drink and a snack, say hi to your host (or one of his proxies--they're the ones in the glowing catsuits), and have fun.

OOC: Prose or action is fine; ain't nobody picky here. Specify in the subject line if you want a private thread.

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What would be an almost oppressively elegant space if a cheerful Flynn weren't wandering around it barefoot, the living room has been furnished with extra seating and tables for the occasion. This is where the main buffet and the bar have been set up.

There is truly a vast and varied amount of food and drink available, but the signature cocktail of the evening glows blue and tastes exactly like you thought electricity would.

How did Bro know there was a party? He just did. It was an old finely-honed talent from his days as a freelance DJ. Sometimes there were parties. Sometimes they need a bro to drop sick beats, and sometimes they didn't and you just showed up before completely owning the shit out of the resident DJ and then chucking out business cards like goddamn confetti.

So Bro's here. And he's finally gotten good enough at holography that over his normal clothes he's skinned himself a Tron outfit. No hat this time, but the glowing sunglasses and lines? Fuck yes. Stylish as hell. He's chilling by leaning up against the fireplace and sipping at this delicious drink, and thinking to himself that man, Lalonde would have mainlined about ten of these by now.

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The main room opens directly onto a sprawling terrace with a breathtaking view of Zone 05. The acrophobic will want to stand back from the edge--all that appears to separate it from open air is a knee-high stone wall. A forcefield will stop anyone from falling, but it's invisible.

The primary attractions on the terrace are the pool, which extends to an infinity edge with an amazing view, and the firepit, currently turned off because the programs haven't all had the fire safety lecture yet. (Those controls should be easy to override, however.) There's more than enough open space to use for a dance floor or fist fight, if one were to pull the chairs and tables out of the way.

Wandering had its perks, and it was the main reason the TARDIS found her (holographic) self staring up at an impossibly large building, then stepping inside said building and following the noise to the sprawling flat at the top floor. Being a time ship who specialised in not being seen, attending a party wasn't the most comfortable thing she'd ever done, projection or not, and the ship eventually found herself out on the terrace, standing at the edge and staring out over the expanse of Zone 05.

She stood well away from the pool, simply enjoying the view. It was high enough that if she closed her eyes, it was almost as though she were in her proper form and flying, rather than hiding in an out-of-the-way corner whilst her hologram explored.

Edited at 2011-04-15 11:05 pm (UTC)

[ Jalen's holding a flute of electric blue and is drinking from it intermittently, surveying his surroundings with a healthy mix of wariness and enjoyment. Cycles of mingling with programs back in Arjia had taught him how to handle social gatherings with ease, but for now, he's content to observe the pool and the sprawling view with his drink. ]

She was hiding a statue feature, a talent that was as good as her affinity with animals. Deep breaths, she knew why she was here. Fluttershy was on a mission. First part of the mission? Find who was ever in charge and ask them, politely, to keep the volume down. This was key- the animals leaving near this large skyscrapper had become rather...disturbed by all this sudden noise, even so high up. She thought, maybe. If she asked super nice, everyone would be happy.

Fluttershy started to edge out further into the terrace.

[Nepeta may not like actually swimming, but water is always fun to look at! so that is exactly what she's doing - sitting on her haunches and making fun ripples in the pool.

she's tempted to toss something in, but that's probably rude. still, it would make such a nice splash...]

OTHER ROOMS ON THE FIRST FLOOR (descriptive, yes?)

While the rest of the first floor is not explicitly part of the party, it's not explicitly off-limits, either. And if you thought Flynn wouldn't have a sweet AV setup, you haven't been paying attention. The couches are hella comfy, too.

There are also handful of other rooms--the formal dining room, guest bedrooms, some lounges, but no one could possibly have a reason to want to sneak away from such an awesome party for some privacy, right?

For now, it seems, the Councilwoman is unharmed. As he expects. There are some point of entries in this place that one could skate by if they were a highly trained infiltrator, but for the most part, this place is. Secure.

A bit surprising.

However, Thane is not very talented at socializing. So he finds himself instead sitting at a table, to attempt with his meditations that have been -- for the most part -- failing.

This is where the bedrooms are, and it's private. Of course, anyone who lives here can invite a guest up, or guests with a shaky understanding of and/or disregard for what exactly being a guest entails can just sneak up.

OOC: Clear it with the player before filling their character's room with shaving cream (WHO KNEW IT WAS SO FLAMMABLE?!?) or the like first, of course.

Ram's Room [ CLOSED ]

[ Tipping his head back and holding the bottle against his lips, Fenris was just letting gravity do his drinking at this point. He wasn't sure what goldschläger was, exactly- but it was doing the job for which it was intended with impressive haste. It hadn't been more than an hour since Fenris was more or less banished to Ram's room and already he was feeling the warming, dizzying affects of the brew. From head to toe Fenris was good and buzzed. Aside from being displaced and without all he knew and loved, no complaints.

Sitting on the foot of the black sheeted bed, he kept his eyes closed so he could concentrate on drinking and ignore the offense nature of the room's aesthetics. It matched the rest of the buildings interior with it's buzzing blue glow that reminded him too much of lyrium and alien geometries that reminded him of nothing. Oh, how he hated this place. How incredible it would be if he drained this bottle until he was gone and waking up somewhere familiar. He cursed his own desires away with another swig of heavy liquor until he had a simpering grin plastered all over his face.

Much better.
]

The roof, which is likewise private, is devoted to a lush garden that's as far from the spare lines of the rest of the apartment as can be. Once again, scoring an invite shouldn't be too hard, whether that invite is legit or self-generated.

[ The noise downstairs, and the stares at the obvious cybernetic parts and bulges in his shirt hinting at more, have gotten to be a little much for Sollux. He's not a social creature by nature, even if he's better at it after half a year in Sacrosanct than he ever used to be.

So he sneaks away and up to the roof to chill out for a bit. Dave's been okay at teaching him to clear his head; Striders are masters of cool and chill, after all. He's just resting for a bit, okay? And fuck anyone who pulls "not for guests" on him. ]

the roof, THE ROOF!, the roof is...a decent hiding place, actually.

[It was a textbook case of being on the outside, looking in.

That wasn't going to stop either of them. Analyses had suggested the fields didn't extend to the roof. And if they did...Clu wasn't incompetent. he hadn't been doing nothing for a thousand cycles. He knew how to hack a door. Even an invisible one.

And Rinzler was stealthier than anything alive. Literally. Access to the rest of the complex, from here, should be fairly simple.

Now, if he could just. Forget the fact that they were huddled in the shadows of--of photosynthetic vermin that feasted on the poisonous radiation of the sun.

...Lesser beings would have called it a shrubbery.]

[Protoman feels a very pressing need to get away from the noise of the party. He finds a door and takes it, heading up to the roof. A lot has happened in the past two weeks, new information pouring in that's simultaneously happy and impossible to believe, no matter how much he wants to. He's barely had a moment to himself since his arrival, and...he just needs to relax. He was never as expressive as his younger brother was. He was never exactly meant for social interaction either, though he did learn he was surprisingly okay at it. He didn't understand why he'd come to crave such interaction, either.

So he's just going to head over to the railing and chill, looking out at the sprawling city below. Robot needs to clear his head.]

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