Once you party with us

[knightime]

Characters: Dave Strider, the loser Homestucks with birthdays in December, Naminé, and everyone else who's in the Media Room at that time.
Setting: Media Room
Format: Either
Summary: Party in the media room. Look at all these stupid kids who have birthdays in December.
Warnings: Teenagers are dumb. Stupid shenanigans.

It wasn't really a proper party set-up. There were no decorations or anything that would signify it were a party. Dave didn't really have supplies or time to make anything and he wasn't really around to even plan anything in the first place.

Jason didn't really make it any easier by giving them only foodbars and water for this month either.

But he did try. He made those shitty paper ringlets to hang and he taped really crappy drawings of balloons to the walls. An attempt was made and he thinks his balloons are pretty fucking awesome anyways. It was a little sad. The list was a lot shorter than he anticipated. He ignored that nagging thought though. He didn't want to recall that a lot of his friends had left while he was gone.

Yeah, pretending that isn't a thing that happened.

Too busy admiring his really shitty attempt at birthday decorations.

Damn, he even made a cake. Ok. It wasn't really a cake. He mashed nutrition bars into a bowl with water and attempted to bake it. That...that didn't actually really come out like he hoped. Mostly, he put it in too long so the outside was completely burn yet the middle was still a really gross mush. No one was probably going to eat it. But it's the thought that counts...

It's a really gross fucking cake.

Obviously though, he should be in charge of birthdays all the time. "Fuck, I'm amazing at this." No, Dave. This is pretty shitty and you know it. You tried though. You tried.

[[OOC: Feel free to threadjack and mingle!]]

Comments

[heirterosexual]

[Shrinking a bit under that look.]

You obviously aren't aware of the intense hatred I have for nearly every form of baked good. I don't know if you've ever met my Dad.

[plushaeusrumpified]

[Good, shrink harder, because he's trying to make it even more intense.]

I think Dave's cake is worth it, bro. I bet that cake's better than anything your dad could ever make.

[heirterosexual]

Hey, shut up, even if I didn't like it Dad rocked at cakes, okay.

[Maybe a little bit too defensive, there. Touchy subject. Sorry. He grumps, hunching his shoulders.] Whatever, dude, I don't have to do a damn thing you tell me to.

[plushaeusrumpified]

[And he does realize that it's a touchy subject, and he looks and radiates 90% less intimidation than before.]

Alright, alright, sorry.

[He's quiet for a moment, before letting out a sigh.]

Please eat the cake? [And he actually sounds like he's sincerely pleading. Because he is. IN HIS MIND eating the cake will make Dave happy. Dave doesn't have enough happiness here. He needs someone to eat the cake.]

[heirterosexual]

[Wow, what the fuck is this. Bro Strider breaking out the p-word that doesn't end in -enis? John looks a little startled.]

...Tell you what, I'll eat a piece if you do.

[plushaeusrumpified]

[Yes, he used the P word. You should be proud of yourself for getting this out of him, you annoying little fucker. It amuses him though, the startled look. But he doesn't say anything.]

How about we compromise further and split a piece? That sound like a deal?

[Because to be honest he really doesn't want to eat an entire piece for himself.]

[heirterosexual]

[John frowns a little, then holds out a hand.]

Shake on it.

[plushaeusrumpified]

I'm nothing if not a man of my word.

[He spits into his palm and then holds out the hand.]

[heirterosexual]

[That is so gross, dude. But John takes the hand and shakes it firmly, because he refuses to look squeamish.]

[plushaeusrumpified]

[Good John. If you'd have looked squeamish, he would've gave you shit for it. Once their handshake is done, he moves over and cuts a slice of cake big enough for them to share, grabbing two forks and offering one to John.]

You first.