![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
Out on the far side of Lake George, just far enough off campus to allow apparating for those that could, was an old, abandoned boathouse. Many, many years ago it had been used by one of the families in the area but over time it fell into disrepair, forgotten by all. Except for the enterprising troublemakers of Dresden Academy, that is.
What had once been an elegant exterior was now covered in vines and graffiti, windows shattered and boarded up against the snows and rain. The upstairs had been a small apartment, presumably for the family to stay overnight on fishing trips. Now it was a gutted series of connected rooms and a dirty (but functional) ensuite that provided an ideal party venue for the kids who wanted freedom and mayhem all in a conveniently sheltered location. The downstairs had been storage for the boats, leading into the lake via a gently sloping ramp. The exterior doors had long since been sealed, and the dark, dank, cobweb-filled cavern of a basement had sat empty ever since-- save for the brave young lovers from every party who would take any opportunity for privacy.
No one was really sure who organized the secret afterparty for Halloweenfest every year. It was almost as much of an institution as Halloweenfest itself, and had been going on for far too long for it to have been planned by any current student. Some speculated that the details were handed down from class to class, but nobody ever seemed to have any exact details. Others held the suspicion that one of the cooler professors must have a hand in it, but no one dared ask lest they blow the cover and find themselves blacklisted from all future events.
On the morning of Halloweenfest, a flock of bats burst forth from the woods acting as messengers, delivering little scrolls with a simple message. You have been chosen. No one knew who sent them, or how the scrolls worked, but without the tiny invitations the boathouse became impossible to find on Halloweenfest Night. Presumably it was the same magic that kept the location cloaked from suspicious teachers, but it made the invites all the more valuable. They could not be traded, or kept for future use. For that one night only, they were the most precious things in the world.
At any rate, by the time the first student arrived at the old abandoned boathouse, little jack-o-lanterns and candles had already been set up all over the top floor, and the tub in the bathroom had been filled with ice awaiting donations of drinks. Someone would bring a laptop to pump music through the building until the battery died or everyone sneaked home, and although nobody ever stayed behind to clean up, the following day the house would be empty and dusty again; as though no one had set foot in it since the year before.
This year promised to be no exception. The decorations were effortlessly spooky, the music impossibly loud, and by midnight the place was already packed.
What had once been an elegant exterior was now covered in vines and graffiti, windows shattered and boarded up against the snows and rain. The upstairs had been a small apartment, presumably for the family to stay overnight on fishing trips. Now it was a gutted series of connected rooms and a dirty (but functional) ensuite that provided an ideal party venue for the kids who wanted freedom and mayhem all in a conveniently sheltered location. The downstairs had been storage for the boats, leading into the lake via a gently sloping ramp. The exterior doors had long since been sealed, and the dark, dank, cobweb-filled cavern of a basement had sat empty ever since-- save for the brave young lovers from every party who would take any opportunity for privacy.
No one was really sure who organized the secret afterparty for Halloweenfest every year. It was almost as much of an institution as Halloweenfest itself, and had been going on for far too long for it to have been planned by any current student. Some speculated that the details were handed down from class to class, but nobody ever seemed to have any exact details. Others held the suspicion that one of the cooler professors must have a hand in it, but no one dared ask lest they blow the cover and find themselves blacklisted from all future events.
On the morning of Halloweenfest, a flock of bats burst forth from the woods acting as messengers, delivering little scrolls with a simple message. You have been chosen. No one knew who sent them, or how the scrolls worked, but without the tiny invitations the boathouse became impossible to find on Halloweenfest Night. Presumably it was the same magic that kept the location cloaked from suspicious teachers, but it made the invites all the more valuable. They could not be traded, or kept for future use. For that one night only, they were the most precious things in the world.
At any rate, by the time the first student arrived at the old abandoned boathouse, little jack-o-lanterns and candles had already been set up all over the top floor, and the tub in the bathroom had been filled with ice awaiting donations of drinks. Someone would bring a laptop to pump music through the building until the battery died or everyone sneaked home, and although nobody ever stayed behind to clean up, the following day the house would be empty and dusty again; as though no one had set foot in it since the year before.
This year promised to be no exception. The decorations were effortlessly spooky, the music impossibly loud, and by midnight the place was already packed.
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn
Thorn groaned, but then he couldn't help giggling. "I know two very classy girls," he tried. He wasn't quite as drunk as they were, but he was close enough. They were just a big sloppy mess in the corner.
Bernadine laughed even harder. "Nice try." She reached over and slapped his bare chest and then gave him a good grope.
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn
"Both of us?" Bernadine snorted. "Probably at the same time."
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn
"I'm just that awesome," Hawthorne replied and rubbed the back of his against Abernathy's leg. He was surprised that she hadn't bitchslapped him and stalked off already, but maybe she was drunk enough to let go and just enjoy herself.
She put her hand on his forehead to stop him. "Careful Thorn, you're going to get us all hot and then you'll have to make good on this offer."
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn
"Ohmygawwwd, he'd hate that so much," she teased. "Wouldn't you hate that, Thorn? Two girls? Like us?" She wiggled underneath him. "Abby you're the worst!"
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn
Bernadine looked up at Thorn with a mix of amusement and apprehension. He thought she was Abby and from what B knew, he'd probably been thinking about all the bad things he could do to her sister since before they broke up. "At least you can walk us home," she said and took his hand. She had to use Cinna's shoulder, the wall, and Thorn to get up properly and slumped into his side to stay upright. "We're gonna slumber party," she said, offering her free hand along with Thorn's to pull Cinna up.
Bernadine/Cinna/Thorn