Dave Strider (
shenunigans) wrote in
thecapitol2014-12-03 12:59 am
Double the Dave.
Who| Dave, Davesprite and anyone who knows them, has mutual friends with them (feel free to mingle)
What| The not-twins are 17, technically. Some people threw them a surprise party because they're adorable.
Where| D9 suites
When| December 3rd
Warnings/Notes| N/A
Once the word had slipped that Dave's birthday was on December 3rd, some people were pretty quick to leap into action. Apparently, even in a horrible murder-fest dystopia, there's room for the joint party of a boy and another boy who is a copy of that boy from the future. Let's just call him his twin. His twin with wings.
He happens to be ambling along with the very same twin when he guides him to District Nine to ogle his bird. He has no idea what to expect when he opens the door, but needless to say his poker face is shifted for the longest damn moment.
District Nine is decked out with an appropriate, ironic amount of streamers. Tacos, nachos and as close as you can get to doritos are on the menu alongside a wide variety of disgustingly awful, sugary food. There's also a cake that.. well. It looks like someone put their heart into it. There's plenty of soda, but a distinct lack of booze. Alas, you can probably get your kicks from the party hats and the obnoxious hipster music playing from the stereos. Between one Arena and edging on another, it's a pretty chill, little shindig to relax at rather than whiling away the hours being a bummer.
What| The not-twins are 17, technically. Some people threw them a surprise party because they're adorable.
Where| D9 suites
When| December 3rd
Warnings/Notes| N/A
Once the word had slipped that Dave's birthday was on December 3rd, some people were pretty quick to leap into action. Apparently, even in a horrible murder-fest dystopia, there's room for the joint party of a boy and another boy who is a copy of that boy from the future. Let's just call him his twin. His twin with wings.
He happens to be ambling along with the very same twin when he guides him to District Nine to ogle his bird. He has no idea what to expect when he opens the door, but needless to say his poker face is shifted for the longest damn moment.
District Nine is decked out with an appropriate, ironic amount of streamers. Tacos, nachos and as close as you can get to doritos are on the menu alongside a wide variety of disgustingly awful, sugary food. There's also a cake that.. well. It looks like someone put their heart into it. There's plenty of soda, but a distinct lack of booze. Alas, you can probably get your kicks from the party hats and the obnoxious hipster music playing from the stereos. Between one Arena and edging on another, it's a pretty chill, little shindig to relax at rather than whiling away the hours being a bummer.

no subject
"Man, just make sure they don't douse themselves in glitter. Shit makes me sneeze, and I don't want to spend two weeks washing it out of my pubes."
... you know you have ascended to a special level of broship when you can casually talk about glittered pubes and not bat an eyelash. Either that, or you're just a Strider, or have been around one for way too long.
Davesprite nods his head in the direction of the cake. "No way, man, there's no way we're replacing that culinary masterpiece. Have you seen it?"
no subject
The comment is offhand, and promptly abandoned.
"Hey, it's pretty great," he says, defensively holding up his hands. "They must've gotten a wizard or something to get so much sugar in one place. I'm just saying, it would be better if a hot babe jumped out of it is all."
no subject
Davesprite peers at the cake this time, as if trying to imagine some hot babe jumping out of it, all covered in icing. After a moment, he just wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, "Nah, man, I've seen enough butts at the end of cosmic jokes to know that that is a hella bad idea. Maybe if a hot babe was just delivering the cake, yeah."
no subject