ain't no party like a tardis party [open to everyone forever]

[i_jones]

Once you get to the TARDIS - because you did follow those blue balloons through Central Park, didn't you, you got that clue, and maybe those of you with good (or not-bad) intentions found it a little easier to find, and were drawn to it, even - anyway, once you get to the TARDIS, you find a sign on the door, which is ajar. No, not that sign, a handwritten sign taped to the front that says PARTY (I PROMISE) with an arrow pointing inside. And yes, oh, isn't the console room nice, how merry-go-round, whatever. More importantly, there are signs on every door out of the room that say assorted things like PARTY THIS WAY and ALSO THIS WAY and JUST PICK ONE REALLY. There is one festive balloon tied to the console.

If you go through any or all of the doors, you'll find yourself in a room with a very large pool (that one might say looks like this one except much grander in scale). The pool is lined, not excessively, with taps in various shapes, sizes, and colors. Some pump out bubbles, some foam, some clouds, some... who knows? Surrounding the pool are chairs and tables with appetizers, desserts, drinks, and various types of cake. Also pie. There's a jukebox tucked into a corner playing a mixture of 80s songs, unfamiliar songs from various points in the future, and the occasional song in an alien language with a good beat. There are rooms if you need to change, and some doors might even take you to the wardrobe room if you need a bathing suit. And I guess you could explore further if you really wanted to, but why do that when you can party? Because most doors will probably lead you back to the pool room, let's be real.

Comments

[powerdealer]

Seth ends up bumping into Peter on his way to leave - after that rather uncomfortable conversation when meeting Rush, and afterwards standing in a corner texting Daniel for ages, Seth decided that maybe coming to this party was not the greatest idea. Not that it's a bad party, but when you can't actually swim, and he hasn't spotted anyone he'd want to approach, it's mostly just awkward.

He's just trying to find his way out, when he turns a corner and walks right into a not particularly sober Peter. A Peter with a drink of some description in his hand. A drink which is now mostly on both their shirts. Whoops?

[fucking_ebay]

Peter wouldn't mind taking his clothes off, and frankly he's drunk enough that he's considering going swimming just so he has an excuse to do so, but the pool itself isn't all that alluring. Not much here is, actually; he's less tense now that a few people have more or less explained things and the TARDIS has failed to light him on fire, but it's still not exactly his kind of party.

And there goes the one thing that was his style. Peter spreads his arms, his now mostly empty cup still in one hand, and looks down at himself and then up at Seth as if to ask what the hell. "What the hell?" he adds for good measure.

[powerdealer]

Don't go swimming while drunk, Peter, that is most definitely a Bad Idea. Then again, TARDIS wouldn't let Peter drown. Probably.

Seth looks down at his now wet (and sugary - why does Peter always drink sugary things?) t-shirt sticking to him, then looks up at Peter with a mix of dejection and annoyance. Apparently one awkward and unfriendly encounter wasn't enough for this party.

"Hi," he answers, seeing as he has no idea what else to answer 'what the hell' with. He doesn't apologise, seeing as it was just as much Peter's fault, and just as much Seth's inconvenience. And Peter was the one wandering around with an open drink.

[fucking_ebay]

He likes his booze to taste good, is that a crime?

"Fucking," says Peter, digging for a word to follow it and only coming up with "fuck. Watch where you're going -- aren't you the one who's supposed tob e able to walk through things?" And now Peter's all sticky because Seth couldn't be bothered to walk through him, clearly that is the takeaway here. He sets the cup down on the nearest horizontal surface and dabs at his shirt with his fingertips for a moment as if that's going to help, then looks around in sudden bewilderment for napkins. "I like this shirt," he complains. He likes all his shirts.