The Nighthouse [members / party crashers]

Roddie... How Rodolphus detested that little nickname, especially when it was coming from the mouth of one drunken buffoon, Bellatrix Black. Honestly, how much liquor had she funneled into that stomach of hers before coming here? She was swaggering about like a monkey on stilts, and he expected that any moment now she would be tripping over her own feet, passed out on the floor in a pool of vomit. Would serve the bitch right for crashing his party. Was it her life's mission to ruin his every opportunity for fun? First the Fall Formal, and now the Nighthouse. It was more than a bloke could take. Without meeting her green-eyed stare, he replied back dryly, “If this is a zoo, Bells, then you're the fat hippopotamus. Must say, the resemblance is uncanny.”

Throwing back another shot of Firewhisky, Rod savored that burning sting as it coursed down his throat. He was beginning to feel a warm buzz settling over him, and he would need it to get through this circus of a night. That was the last of his shots, and he knew he would need more to get as drunk as he wanted to be. Lifting his head, his eyes went to the bar where there stood Integra, some Ravenclaw girl, that git Malfoy, and Joram. Jaw clenched, stiff-backed, body tense. He needed a few drinks in him, that was for damn sure, but... To his relief then, Joram walked off with a Hufflepuff girl, and Rod waved his hand for Integra. “Make yourself useful for once and get me a drink, will you?” He might not be able to order Integra around in the bedroom anymore, but at least she was still at his service where drinks were concerned.

A smirk appeared on his face at Zeke's egging taunt. Clever move, Maxi-pad, Rod thought to himself. Unable to resist a good challenge, Rod threw in five more of his own Galleons, curious to see where that would lead him that night. Just then, James Potter came in, fashionably late, though that wasn't exactly a surprise. He sat down at the table, and Rod greeted him with a callous laugh. “Glad you could join us, wifey. Having fun in the kitchen? Toiling over my dinner, I'm sure. Don't forget, I need my laundry done and would like a foot massage when I get home. I'm just so lucky to have you in my life, darling.” The only way Rod could tolerate being paired with James on their Muggle Studies project was by turning it into a joke.

His eyes furrowed skeptically when Bellatrix strode toward him, no longer appeased by his younger brother. Fortunate for Rabastan, unfortunate for Rodolphus. Disturbed didn't even fully cover Rod's state of mind upon hearing his fiance's inane request. After everything she'd put him through the last couple of days, was she bloody serious? His mouth was set into a thin, severe line as he quickly examined the situation. Bellatrix in his lap... drunk off her ass and in his lap... it was a difficult image to compute, that was to be sure. However, she was already causing a ruckus as it was. If he turned her down... Rod rolled his eyes in exasperation, knowing he didn't have much of a choice. For now, he was under her thumb, at least until that sodding formal was over and done with. Wordlessly, Rod motioned for her to sit down, willing himself to not vomit. Now he definitely needed to get schnockered.

After a few hands, Rod was feeling ok about his chances that night. He'd only had a couple of bad hands to speak of. Overall, it wasn't a bad night, and Rod knew he'd be in the game for quite a bit longer. He arched a teasing brow in Zeke's direction, wondering if his fellow Slytherin was still as cocky as he'd been earlier in the night.

Ooc; Ok, so I know I kind of made it seem like a few rounds had gone through with that last paragraph. I don't have any preference as to who wins the jackpot, and if y'all want, I'll just pull someone's name out of a hat or something, ROFL. I just did that because I know some of us aren't experts on blackjack and I don't want to force anyone into winning or losing. So if you want your character to do well, they certainly can. I really don't care, I won't accuse you of god-modeling or power-playing or what have you. And if you want your character to be losing terribly or just doing so-so, then feel free. I feel like the blackjack part isn't even that necessary to what we're doing, it's just the setting, you know? If that makes sense. I'm honestly more interested in the drama that's happening around all of them. Ok, this is long-winded, I know. I just didn't want anyone's wires to get crossed. I'm paranoid. Don't judge me. xD Also, I just didn't want us to be stuck on the same hand for thousands of years.

Lucius was, without a doubt, an absolutely terrible dancer. He could handle himself well enough in a ballroom dancing scene. Most from pure-blood families learned the traditional dances, anyway. Dancing at parties, however... that was another matter entirely. Perhaps it was due to the fact that Lucius was tall and lanky or the fact that Lucius wasn't a fan of physical exertion in general. Whatever the reason, when the fair-haired Slytherin danced, he looked something akin to an epileptic string-bean. Normally, Lucius wouldn't dare embarrass himself in front of others with this unfortunate fact. However, he was far too drunk to care. Completely pissed off his shots of vodka, Lucius was shaking his body back and forth in a most chaotic manners. His pale arms were flailing about madly and his white-blonde hair that had formerly been slicked back was now sticking up about everywhere.

Everything was blurry now to Lucius. He was in a complete daze, off his rocker, one might say. If he took his eyes off Addie, he knew he'd probably collapse to the floor. Yet he couldn't stop himself from dancing. The loud, pounding music was so addicting and in away, therapeutic. It was then though that he turned his head and noticed a karaoke machine. Had that always been there? If there was anything Lucius was worse at than dancing, it was singing. But Drunk Lucius possessed little in regards to dignity or conscientiousness. Staggering toward the stage, Lucius withdrew his wand and silenced the overall music with a flick of his wrist. He tapped the microphone, one, two, three times before clearing his throat. “Heeeey.... everyone. Um...” his voice was thick with drunkenness, deep-throated, and not particularly clear. The music began to play, a classic electric guitar sound.

“This... this goes out to my new friend Adverrrrlina... um... she has a last name. I can't remember it... Oh, music!” Lucius had chosen to sing More Than a Feeling by the American rock band Boston, however, there was no way anyone in that crowd could have discerned a single word that drunk Slytherin boy was saying. He swaggered up and down the stage, leaning on the microphone stand for support, whilst sputtering sounds that sounded more like the grunts of a neanderthal rather than music lyrics. Lucius was, of course, completely oblivious to this and sauntered about the stage as if he were a British Keith Richards. Half-yelling, half-moaning into the microphone, Lucius, mid-song, pointed toward the poker table, “You're all-- you're all so beautiful tonight! You, you!” his finger was fixed on Vincent Mortelle. “You're beautiful.” Then he moved to Bellatrix who sat on Rodolphus' lap. “You're beautiful. Your love is so beautiful.” He opened his mouth as if he were about to add something else, but then the power of the vodka hit him and he collapsed to the floor, asleep.

As the night unfolded before her and Caitlin found herself alone on the dance floor, she had come to the conclusion that none of this was how it was supposed to be. She had never in her life felt so depressed while drunk. Lucius was now singing and frankly, it scared Cait a little. As she turned very slowly to view him, she was making up her slightly tipsy mind just then that it was probably a good time to make her exit. But not before one final act of awesome.

There was something that had come to her attention earlier in the evening and now it was in danger of exposure. Something had to be done. And something bigger than the little smooch she had earlier. If the big bad slytherin's started questioning Waverly for impersonating Integra, Caitlin was certain this couldn't go down well. Yes, Cait had known something was up when the second Integra entered. And though it had taken her a little while, she was certain now of Integra's true identity. Between the little curses she had made at Rabastan, and the absolutely perfect way she had done her make up, Caitlin had deducted it to the only person she actually wanted to see that evening.

The real Integra was careless about her eyeshadow and had made no attempt to cover the little scar on her eyebrow. Waverly had and was very meticulous about her liner. To save her friend, Caitlin had to go all out at this point. Watching Lucius dancing around exclaiming everyone's beauty was giving her an idea; so when he passed out on the floor, Caitlin took matters into her own hands.

Grabbing up the microphone, and switching the stereo to something so much better, the petite Hufflepuff girl cranked the volume. She'd picked Anarchy in the UK by The Sex Pistols and was now singing as loud as she could while walking through the sea of dancing people. Having made her way finally to the poker table, and stepping over Malfoy, Cait climbed on top of the game table in the middle of a new deal, and continued to yell "Cuz I wanna be, Anarchy!!!". Her feet were finding the chips and cards to be a nuisance so she kicked them all over, scattering them everywhere. No one was leaving with the right amount of money now and the cards were flying through the air. But this was certainly going to be the impact she needed.

"I wanna be an anarchist! Oh What a name! And I wanna be an anarchist!!! I get pissed destroy!!" With the last word she threw the microphone over her head, hopped off the table and grabbed Waverly's hand. The look on her face was all elation and thrill. "Come on. They'll be right bloody pissed now. Run for it!!" Her eyes begged the girl to follow her as she let go of her hand and backed away toward the bar, stealing a bottle of whiskey for herself. Integra had the right idea, take the party somewhere more fun than this place.