Who:  Terra Branford, Dragonclaw, Irvine Kinneas, Kail Nurah, Selphie Tilmitt.
Where: Garden Quad, Terra's dorm.
Why:  Dragonclaw's hatchday party!
Date of Log:  August 27, 2000.



Terra drifts into the area, having been informed via a certain grapevine that there is a PAAAAAHTAY going on (guess whom this grapevine is) and, well, having gotten dressed up. And looking rather nervous. But fortunately, it's not that crowded; yay!

Dragonclaw is, predictably, already here. The first one, maybe, or close to it. He's looking even more uncomfortable then Terra, stuffed into a new suit and without an axe.

Dress up? What? Har! The cowboy enters the Quad area in his regular cowboy gear, complete with duster, chaps and the hat. Of course, he hasn't really been feeling well. The nap helped though, he's got some more energy at least. Glancing around, he spots Dragonclaw and starts walking in that direction. Must... not... giggle... at the suit. No.
      
Terra doesn't giggle at the suit. She just kind of blinks at it, since it's... incongruous. But she's known Moogles. MOOGLES. So, well, it's not any big thing. She kind of heads for the refreshments area, in order to hide from excess attention. ._.

Dragonclaw looks back at Irvine, sending him, despite the species difference, a clear 'help-me' look. He moves that way, quickly, mostly so he's not being looked at all by himself.

Irvine loses all desire to laugh as he sees that look from Dragonclaw. Drawing toward his side, he nudges his friend and quips, "Looking good tonight, do you have a lot of outfits like this?" It's meant as a joke, really. He hasn't seen Terra yet either.

Terra having made her way to the refreshments table, pours herself a smallish glass of punch and looks at the various munchies and crunchies with... well... some reservations. Some of them seem to be of an, erm, lizardish bent - and that's not inherently bad, just not quite what she's used to eating.

Dragonclaw, who eats meat, has made absolutely sure they have food he likes - in other words, fish of all shapes and sizes in various degrees of cookedness. To Irvine, he shakes his head. "Only one. Feel stupid in it - silly."

Irvine chuckles, hands finding the pockets of his duster. "You look fine, Claw. Don't be so embarassed. Happy hatchday, by the way." See, he even uses the proper term for it. Well, for Dragonclaw anyway.
      
Terra sips at her punch and eyes the fish of many and various colors. Hm. Ooh, that one's one of those 'icefish' she read about, the ones with antifreeze-ish blood. Getting one of the cute little paper plates, she uses the serving tongs to place one of the little filleted bits onto her plate, before lifting it up and nibbling. ....eek, it's chilly. But... not too bad. o_o

Dragonclaw fixes the suit on his shoulders. Again. "If you say so." He stands on tiptoe, for anyone else he happens to know - and Terra is one of those people. "Terra!" he calls out, putting his hand up and waving.
Irvine glances over his shoulder to look around, and does finally spot Terra as Dragonclaw calls her name. He hmmms to himself, wondering if he should go over and talk to her. Well heck, now that she's been officially spotted, maybe she'll come over. He reaches up, tipping his hat in her direction as greeting.

Terra smiles and waves to them both, rather shyly, before taking a few more pieces of icefish fillet. Mmm, it's actually tasty, she decides. Of course, this could just be because she's a pale and lightly-colored organism herself. Or, alternately, it's that delicious glycol in the blood. Mmmmmmm. Nibble, nibble. Sip. Nope, she's staying over there, where it's safe.

Dragonclaw is not going to stand here, alone - well, he's got Irvine, which is a start. Tugging on Irvine's coat, he wanders over toward the food himself while fixing the suit jacket /again/. "You said we would have dancing and things? I would like to see that."

No she's not staying over there, well, if the cowboy gets his way that is. Patting Dragonclaw's shoulder as the two wander over to the food area, he mutters, "Be right back." And he starts loping off toward Terra's hidey hole, safety spot. Grinning with all the arrogance he's known to contain, he holds out a hand to Terra, "Come on. Don't be a wallflower, the guest of honor has requested dancing. Care for a dance, Miss Terra?" Luckily, someone's decided music is necessary too, turning on the stereo system Selphie's had set up for the festival.

Terra blinks a couple of times at Irvine, before taking another bite of the fish and swallowing. "Well," she says, glancing at the floor and scuffing the sole of one shoe slightly, "I... I don't really know how, and, um.." She was beating up on Irvine earlier, too. And then he flirted at her. (Of course... then she scared off the evil Cathy-thing.) "Well, I haven't eaten supper, so.."

Dragonclaw follows Irvine - when in doubt, stick together. "I could dance," he offers to Terra. "I do not know how either. We can both learn. But eat first," he adds. "Do not want you to be hungry."

Irvine laughs, though it's not meant to be mocking, he's trying to be gentle now. "Come on, I've seen you dance before. The food table will be here most of the night." Looks like he's not all that willing to take no for an answer. Wait! An idea. "Well, you can always try dancing with Dragonclaw, it is his birthday we're celebrating." Your choice, Terra. Egotistical cowboy, or somewhat clumsy hatchday boy.
      
Terra doesn't wanna eat fish that's been left out for hours though. But, well, she's kind of trapped now. Meep. She smiles a little tentatively and says, to Dragonclaw, "All right, just let me finish this up..." She'll, erm, dance with Irvy later. Yes. Yes, she will. (Or Selphie will appear and bail her out. Oh please oh please.) So, she finishes up the pallid fishbits and drains her glass of punch, before walking up to the hatchday_boy and... pausing, before holding out her hands. Does she have to lead? She's taller, yes, but.

Dragonclaw steals one of the bits of fish ( rawer ) while Terra eats, then stares at the hands before putting his in them. "Never learned at all," he admits, "but watched once." With that, he /does/ try to lead. He's coordinated enough, but suffers from near-terminal enthusiasm /and/ lack of ability.

Though it's bound to get him into trouble, Irvine produces Selphie's camera from the pocket of his duster. He keeps it hidden for now, just waiting for the two to get out onto the dance area. Several other couples are already there, having fun to the beat of the music.
However, as Terra and Dragonclaw actually start dancing... *click*

Terra doesn't notice Irvine's camera. Good for him. Anyway, she lets herself get dance'd, doing her best to use her somewhat more advanced dancing skills to keep the enthusiasm from... Tugging her around too hard, or banging into things. So she's dancing with DC! Yay for him. It's too bad he doesn't have any other girls of his phenotype around to dance with, but she's got green hair, so she'll have to do.

Dragonclaw wouldn't notice anything like that. And while he's stronger then many humans, he seems content to be led by Terra when she tries to. "Is this all right? I did not step on your feet. People told me not to do that."

Irvine replaces the camera in the duster pocket, smiling quietly to himself. Fish isn't his thing, so he mostly stands by the food area to watch Terra and Dragonclaw. At least until another little brunette haired Cadet walks up to him and strikes up a conversation. *sigh* Old habits die hard.
      
Step two three, Step two three, Step two three. Terra says, with what she hopes is reassurance, "You're doing just fine," as she does her dancing thing. At least it's not, like, an involved dance. She wouldn't mind so much as be uncomfortable due to the general differences between self and DC. (And Irvine will die for that photo. Sigh.) "Have you had enough?" she asks a moment afterwards, almost eagerly. But not quite.

Dragonclaw hesitates. "If you would like to stop," he says, actually - maybe - learning something reading humans. Either that, or he just assumes Terra doesn't like dancing. "We can stop if you want."

Irvine has no idea what in the world he's gonna do with that photo. More then likely he'll forget he even took it and Selphie will wonder where the heck it came from when she gets her film developed. Meanwhile, the Cadet has the cowboy thoroughly distracted, looking up at him pleadingly and gesturing toward the dance floor. Good thing Selphie's not here. o.o

Terra nods a little, and gravitates over near the refreshment zone, before disengaging from the lizardguy and going back to munchies. She pours some more punch and sips it; if it's been spiked, she's clueless. Let's hope it hasn't been.

Dragonclaw actually has no idea if it's spiked, either ( one of them is ) but gets himself a glass at random. "So is this a party?"

Irvine isn't the one who spiked it, if it is, in fact, spiked. But, there are a number of pranksters here besides the cowboy. And so thusly there's bound to be some alcohol floating around. In the meanwhile, however, he's lead-- being lead, by the brunette Cadet toward the dance floor at this time.

Terra wrinkles her nose a bit, and sips her punch again. "I suppose," she says; fortunately for her, she got a glass from an area with a low booze concentration. And besides, it needs a little while to percolate in. Fear.

Dragonclaw didn't, but then again, how does he know what he's tasting? Strong all the way. "So. That's good." He looks at Irvine, then back to Terra. "He dances better then we do."

Irvine isn't paying any attention to Dragonclaw or Terra at this point, losing himself to the moment. Dancing is about as fun as... other things, though on a lower scale. And, he hasn't gotten to do it since the 'tomorrow we die' festival before attacking ShinRa. The little Cadet seems just as happy, not even really hitting on him, it's all in fun. (And from rumors going around, Sefie'll kick anyone's ass who dares to hit on her cowboy.)

Terra looks at Irvine, and squints for a long moment. And then sets her punch cup down and marches over towards him, quite militaristically, and then peers up from her somewhat lower vantage point. Peeeeer. "....." Maybe she's going to chide him.

Or maybe she wants a dance. Dragonclaw doesn't have a comment either way. He found a big fish, and is quite happy with his prize and the punch, of which he has to refill once.

The Cadet sees Terra before Irvine does. She blinkblinks, wondering why Terra is looking like that. Touching Irvine's arm, she gestures toward the lingering green haired lady so that the cowboy is aware of her. Only then does he actually look at her, and since he feels this was done in innocence, he sees nothing wrong with it and smiles at Terra without a hint of sheepishness or guilt, "Feel like cutting in?" Why not? Heck, he's always had that blatantly laid back view on life.

Terra ...giggles. And it's a strange-sounding one, too. So, looking downwards (And wondering why her stomach lurched! Jeez.) she latches one hand on Irvine's forearm and tows him out towards the dance floor. No words of explanation, just action. And more of that frenetic, somewhat unhealthy giggling.

Irvine blinks, not sure why Terra's giggling like that. It's unnerving. Has he ever actually heard her laugh? He tries to remember, actually. Waving over his shoulder toward the other Cadet, he gets towed out to another area on the dance floor. "Hey, Terra... you ok?"

Dragonclaw stays out right where he is. Away. And, o course, with another punch, which he looks at oddly before drinking. "Have fun!" he calls out, staying near the sidelines...after all, no-one's asking /him/ to dance.

Terra answers that by grabbing Irvine by the hands! And then pausing. It's one of those tango-style dances. Ta dum ta duduh, ta dum ta duduh, ta dummmmdahahahadadummm.. She's doing it fairly well, too. And she's stopped giggling too, sort of staring upwards at Irvine and peering at him. She's getting into this entire 'tango' thing.

Watches Terra with a touch of wariness as he falls in step with Terra. She's acting really really odd and it's making him wonder. Still, part of him's paranoid, she mighta just done that to keep the cowboy away from other wily femmes. Yeah, that must be it. It sure beats thinking Terra's gone insane or something.

Irvine can't help but look at Terra oddly as he drifts away from her at the dance floor, letting her go wherever she wants to. Getting a cup of the punch, he heads back toward DC's area before taking a sip. He blinks, the damn thing's obviously spiked.

Dragonclaw hasn't noticed, and he's had - two, three, maybe four, who counts? And if he's feeling it, he hides it pretty well, chatting well ( if slower then usual ) with someone else.

Irvine shrugs, it's not like he can't tolerate alcohol at all. A glass isn't gonna kill him. Still, he begins to wonder about Terra's odd behavior. She was drinking the punch last time he saw her. Uh oh.... "Hey, Dragonclaw?"

Dragonclaw looks up and around, quickly. "What?" Of course, given how rough his voice /usually/ is...changes are hard to spot.

Irvine wouldn't have any idea how to tell if Dragonclaw was, in fact, drunk, or even tipsy, anyway. He gestures to the punch cup in the hatchday boy's hand and says quietly, "It's spiked, be careful." Too late, but how's he to know?
      
Dragonclaw looks in the cup, then back up, squinting. "What is 'spiked'?" he inquires, sniffing it. "There is no spike in it. I would notice."

Irvine clears his throat, feeling it getting scratchy again, dammit. He thought he'd beaten that damn flu bug after the long nap session. Patting Dragonclaw's shoulder, he says quietly, "I can taste it, some of it may not be as strong, just be careful, ever had alcohol before?"
      
Dragonclaw sniffs. "No," he says. "No-one would give some to me to try. Why? Why would people put it in that without asking?" He sniffs it again, deeper.

Irvine resists the urge to facepalm. "Because some people think it's funny, others just love breaking Garden rules." Of course, the cowboy's done it before, just not here. He takes another sip and wonders how the hell 'Claw can't taste it... must have a lower concentration of it in his cup.

Dragonclaw actually just doesn't know what he's looking for, and is punch something a carnivore usually has? He finishes that cup and sets it aside. "Can ask something, Irvine?"

Irvine nods to Dragonclaw, sipping the heavily spiked punch without worry. It's -one- glass. And it oddly feels good against his scratchy throat. "Sure, 'Claw, what's up?"

Dragonclaw waves a hand absently, gesturing to the other part of the room. "What does it mean when the walls blur? Is that usual at parties? Is it a show?"

Terra had retreated to the stage area with a plate full of those nummy icefish bits, after that abrupt Irvine dance. She's probably visible from the main quad area, but there's the question of if anyone's actually WATCHING. (If so, she's giggling to herself.)

Oh crap. Irvine reaches for the cup in Dragonclaw's hand, if he's still got one, "That's enough punch for you tonight, my friend, it means you're getting tipsy." If not drunk already. Eeesh. The cowboy sighs, wishing he'd known this earlier.

Irvine finds the nearest trash can and tosses out Dragonclaw's remaining punch and cup. "Drunk, inebriated. Too much alcohol makes your vision fuzzy." And a load of other oddball things too. Sticking now to DC's side, he wonders what in the world he'll do if he passes out.
      
Terra lifts up a sliver of fish and dangles it up, giggling happily, before dropping it on her - forehead, since her aim's kind of off. A random gust makes some snow blow up from outside, just enough to look purty. Aw. They really ought to seal this part of the place up.

Dragonclaw tilts his head and amazingly doesn't fall down. "Oh. What else?" He looks at Terra, head tilted. "Is that it?"

After another sip, Irvine has to suddenly wonder what the hell kind of alcohol was put in the punch cups now. Half the people at the party, at least, are acting off their rocker already. Great. He looks at his own cup dubiously, already feeling the warming effects on him. Best not to have another one if he's gonna keep an eye on Dragonclaw now. And then... out of the corner of his perception, he sees Terra. Oh for... *sigh*

Terra realizes, at least, that she's not exactly in the most 'normal' of situations at the moment. So, she scrapes the bit of fish off of her forehead and gulps it down. At least the fish is going to be kept from going bad by the cooler air over there. Mmmm, she has to remember to eat more of this stuff.

Dragonclaw wanders off, looking around and leaving Irvine to do - well, whatever Irvine does. While he's not acting like a complete lunatic, he is speaking a bit faster then usual.

Kail jogs down the stairs towards the party. Sure, it was at least partly his idea, but he woke up this morning with a stomachache that basically kept him in his quarters all morning and most of the afternoon, and making him miss a good first part. So here he comes, hoping to at least find out who showed up! He passes by the punchbowl, stomach still just a little bit twingy, and shows up next to Irvine. "Hey, how's it been goin'?"

Irvine looks away for just a minute and what happens? He loses Dragonclaw. He glances around frantically for a moment, instead finding Kail, "Someone spiked the punch, help me find Dragonclaw, he's a little... tipsy."

Kail stares. "Somebody -what-?" And he hasn't even been around to check on it. This isn't a good thing..."How much did Dragonclaw have? How much did you have?" he asks, concerned, and looks around. ...Hoo boy.

Dragonclaw, kneeling down - in his good suit, no less! - is behind one of the tables, exploring under the table-cloth.
      
Terra is sitting over in a corner of the stage, eating the icefish sashimi with great relish and fair to middling accuracy.

"Not much, for me, Dragonclaw, I dunno," Irvine responds, not seeing Claw under the table. In fact, any quick search he does leaves him without actually finding him.
      
Dragonclaw clambers a bit farther under the tablecloth. Look, it's dark. Kind of cool, too. In general, nice, when you're from caves. Putting his head against the midbar of the table, Dragonclaw closes his eyes, probably ready to doze off hidden under all the snacks.

Terra sure is. Not only was she dancing, but she's now sitting there, nice and sloshed, out there in the chilly reaches of the Quad. Fwoooo! Insert SNES 'wind sound' here. She's still eating from her collection of Lots Of Sashimi, and doesn't seem to be too affected by the cold! Yet.

Irvine sighs, looking down at the sloshed Terra. "How many glasses of that punch have you had, Miss Terra?" He looks perturbed, not at Terra, but at this situation.
      
Terra looks up and giggles, before saying in a rather mushy voice - oh yeah, she sounds drunk - "One'n'a haaaf." Then she grabs up a handful of the fishy yummies and crams 'em in her mouth. Aw! Innit cute.

Cute? Eh, in a drunken sort of way. Yeah, that musta been strong stuff, cause just a cup of it is messing with the cowboy's equilibrium slightly. He reaches down toward Terra, hoping to get her back to her feet, "Come on, Darlin'. Time for bed. You're a little wee bit out of it."
      
Terra doesn't react. She holds up the plate, which contains the remnants of that colorless fish-meat, giggling again. Her cheeks are quite red, thanks to our friend the liquor, and in fact that plate is wobbling noticably. That -must- have been something strong, or else maybe she got a cupful before it could diffuse into the bowl at large.

Irvine takes the plate, and grabs the hand with his free hand. "Come on, up you go." And he tries to lift her up to her feet. Of course, if she's unsteady, it won't do much good and the plate will probably end up on the floor if he has to catch her.
      
Terra waghs in surprise as she's hoisted up. She's a limp sack, yes, but she's not a limp sack of much weight. She starts to wriggle, rather fishlike - you are what you eat, after all! - as she gets at about feet level, and indeed, the plate gets dropped. Twap. The bits of fish hit the ground, and let out a little bit of condensation as they cool rapidly. In a minute or so, they'll be frozen. (That'll be fun to discover once Garden goes somewhere warmer.)

Irvine forgets about the plate, just concentrating on keeping Terra on her feet. Damn, this is really awkward. It'd be easier to just hoist her over his shoulder, but that'd really look bad. Trying to keep her steady, he sighs. "Well, hope you're having fun at least. Come on, let's get you to your room."
      
Terra's mouth hangs open a little as she feels things wobble. Gwarhgphg. And she wobbles. And slumps against Irvine, mostly because he's stable. Yes, she is seeing things double. Her eyes are doing a sort of slow kaleidoscope thing, which would probably surprise anyone who looked straight at them... But fortunately enough for her, most people don't. Phew.

Irvine isn't looking into Terra's eyes, letting her fall against him for support and wrapping both arms around her, meant for support. Believe it or not, the cowboy is not out to take advantage of this situation.

Terra is sure this is something familiar to Das Irvine, or at least, she would be if she had more than sixteen functional brain cells at the moment. "I feel sick," she slurs, head swaying back and forth slowly. ~_~ At least she's not being sick. Yet.

Irvine groans, great. "How sick do you feel, Terra?" This is so he knows whether or not he can get her back to her room before she starts throwing up. Jesus, what was in that punch, anyway? Otherwise, he starts to lead her out of the Quad, trying to let her stay on her feet for now.

Terra says, faintly, "A lot..." And so she does. @_x She remembers drinking something in Midgar and feeling like this, but that was some kind of trick or poison! ...right? And otherwise, well, she hasn't been ABLE to drink. Not around kids, certainly.

Luckily, a trash can isn't far away and Irvine grabs for it to drag it in front of Terra and lean her over it, "Throw up if you need to." He really doesn't want to take her any further until he's sure she's not gonna upchuck on the atrium tiles or something.

Terra stares down into the recesses of a trash can, seeing the contraband that's been hidden there, the cheap Triple Triad cards, and assorted other bits of organic refuse. As well as a miniature penguin subspecies that glares upwards, angrily. (Some of them, it seems, can fly after all! o_o) "...I don't want to.." After all, it makes her mouth taste yechhy.

Irvine draws Terra back, "Can you walk on your own?" If not, she's gonna get herself carried back to her room. The cowboy's not gonna bother trying to lead her if she's just gonna nearly fall and stumble all over the place.
      
Terra says, cogently, "Huh?" and stares down into the can. Yeah, that's a penguin alright. She's already hallucinating. "I don't know..." Cough, cough, and then with an, erm, endearing little slump forwards, OUT comes all that fish gunk. She groans, and her eyes roll back slightly in her head, along with some more coughing; yes, someone ought not to touch alcohol, this is certain.

Irvine sighs, holding onto Terra with one arm while he draws that pretty green hair back with his free hand, keeping her from throwing up on it too. He's been drunk before, and remembers quite well how icky it feels at this stage of the game. He tries to sooth her a little, knowing how embarassing and gross this must be for her. Poor thing. He honestly feels sorry for her.

Terra feels sorry for herself, but only a little. Okay, now she blames the icefish for her bad feelings. Oww.. stomach cramp. She coughs again, weakly, spitting up some more miscellaneous crap from the Garden-fresh kitchens onto that penguin, which blinks, within its little heap of fish. And then starts to eat it all up itself! (ew) For the reference of certain parties, she's over by the stage, and is in a moderate-to-advanced stage of drunken-ness. And being tended by the cowboy.

Irvine twists Terra's hair against her neck so it stays put, relatively anyway, rubbing at her back as she continues to spew into the trash can. He does feel sorry for her, this isn't her fault, after all, she had no idea that the punch was spiked. Hell, he really wishes he'd tried it earlier when he coulda warned her and Dragonclaw.

Yay! A 2 month anniversary! Selphie's never had one of those before. And the fact that she nearly -forgot- it kind of irks her -- seeing as how she remembered it yesterday, the day before, the day before THAT... But either way, having recieved Irvine's note, Selphie comes trotting into the Quad, tonight dressed in her normal whore_dress and boots. Yay! Some light red marks are still left from the gloopy_incident, but they're not TOO terribly obvious. Cradling who both Terra and Irvine know as 'Mr. Radar' against her chest, it should be noted that he's gained a little mini pair of boots and a mini cowboy hat. Aww. Trot, trot. The two are not seen yet, as she's working on fitting one of the boots to STAY on.

Terra is done with the spewage, for the most part, and lets out another groan, her stomach doing a little cramping thing on the same principle as squeezing the toothpaste tube from the bottom. Shivering, both from the cold of the unenclosed quad and from, well, you know, she straightens upwards slightly and slumps against Irvine. Yeah, this probably looks bad, but at least she's not looking very healthy (even for her) which hopefully would help dissuade any Cheating Assumptions.

Irvine lets Terra slump against him, shifting slightly to adjust her weight properly. He sighs, smiling down at her ruefully. "Well, I'm guessing this is your first foreray into being drunk, isn't it. Come on, let's get you back to your room." So far he hasn't noticed Selphie's entrance, having given up on her arriving a few hours ago. Perhaps something happened to her that required her attention, or she's got things to do that didn't allow her to get away. He's hoping, anyway.

To admit that Selphie got horridly distracted and -totally- involved in a game of Conquer and Command for the last 12 hours would most likely -not- sit well with Irvine, she suspects. But she'll just blow up that bridge when she gets there! Pausing a moment in her trek as she grr!s down at the stubborn boot, the girl -finally- gets it on the bear's foot. There. Nodding to herself, and Mr. Radar, Selphie then glances up -- and blinks a few times. Did she... miss something? First noting that Terra's obviously ill -- not yet thinking Bad Thoughts -- the brunnete frowns. What happened? Er, oh, she's supposed to -say- that. "--Terra?" Heading their way, she adds, "Irvy, what happened?" Confused? Yeah.

Terra starts to sliiide down the side of Mount Cowboy, but notices this in time to start to scrabble at his duster. She manages to get enough purchase to be secure, and clings to it, probably providing more disruption to Irvine's sense of equilibrium. What the hell. "Sel..phie?" she says, hazily, squinting over into Blurry Land. Brain, work! Selphie didn't have a koala bear for a child, did she? She can't recall... so Irvine's a koala bear? Or Selphie? Agh... Headache.

Irvine sighs as Selphie trots up, half out of relief to see her, and half out of pity for poor Terra. "Someone spiked the punch at Dragonclaw's party... Terra had a few too many." In other words, she's stone cold drunk. He does, in fact, scramble slightly to secure Terra against him, finally giving up on keeping her upright and just hefted her up in his arms. She's light, not as light as Selphie, but not too much weight for the cowboy to carry. "I gotta get her to her room. Come with?"

Selphie squints her eyes as Terra does, bending down a little to wavewave. "Hey...!" Glancing up to Irvine as he explains, she oooo~oooohs as she straightens. Then pauses, and blinks. "--I missed his party?!" Groaning, she slumps a bit, squeezing poor Mr. Radar. Hardly even responding to the Terra in his arms, Selphie kicks at an invisable rock. "Ma~an...! Yeah, o-okay-." She can be loud and trippy whilest Terra's drunk.

Terra probably looks rather... wrong while scooped up like that, since she's in her pretty dress. And she also looks, well, semi-conscious. "Uuuugh," she manages to say, this time at least not going utterly limp and sliding out of Irvine's mighty sinews. And she -is- pretty darn light, especially for her height. Deciding not to watch the world go by, she keeps her eyes shut and just listens, vaguely, to Selphie and Irvine shoot the breeze while she's irvylifted.

Well, it's not like Irvine's cheating on Selphie in this manner. He's just trying to get Terra back to her room with the least bit of trouble, and it's obvious to him that the poor girl is too dizzy to stand, let alone walk. He shifts her around a little, making sure she's not gonna slip out somehow, then gives Selphie a rueful smile, as he starts out of the Quad, "Missed you tonight, Darlin'."

Following not quite at Irvine's heels, Selphie erks quietly, looking around. "--Er, yeah! I know, I wish I coulda' been here, you know?" Glancing to the Terra, she shfits the subject. "Who spiked the punch?" Perhaps it's GOOD Selphie wasn't at the party -- she'd be just as drunk as Terra is, and a drunk_Selphie is a pretty scary idea.

Terra had one and a half glasses of the spiked punch. This probably would be enough to make noticable effects on most anyone. However, in her particular situation, it made her drunk as hell. As in, throwing up, wobbling, incoherent drunk. (Hopefully she'll be better tomorrow.) "Nnn," she manages to say, opening one eye halfway and peering over at Selphie, the red (red? yes.. red at the moment!) iris taking in that distinctly Selphie-shaped blob of yellow topped with a blob of brown. "..sorry," she manages to get out coherently, before closing her eyes again. Gwah.

Irvine is actually kinda glad Selphie wasn't at the party, for that exact reason. Though he doesn't fear taking advantage of her, he'd hate for her to be experiencing what Terra is at the moment. "I have no idea who did it, sweetheart. It was some strong stuff, though." Heck, it's cycling through him now and he only had one cup. Luckily, he's better able to cope with alcohol then Terra is, it just leaves him feeling a little 'warm' rather then stone cold drunk. Sighing at Terra, he replies to her even if she wasn't quite talking to him, "Nothing to be sorry for, let's go."

Selphie blinks at Terra's apology, looking back to Irvine as he says the exact thing she was going to. Well, not -exact-, but you know -- close enough. No one can say -exactly- what Selphie was going to. "Bummer," is said of the unknown identity of the Spiker, and she is indeed quietly thankful for not having attended. She's largely quiet as they trek to the dorms, not wanting to accidently reveal why she missed the party, and all. c_c

Terra remains somnolent and sickish, sort of squirming lightly in Irvine's mahnly arms, and occasionally making a light groan. She'd throw up on him, just to be affectionate, but she's already pretty darn empty.

Indeed, Irvine hasn't asked Selphie yet what held her up. It was probably better she wasn't there anyway. Things kinda got out of hand once the alcohol started hitting the party goers. However, much to his chagrin, the alcohol he consumed in ignorance is starting to get to him, though he fights to keep himself from getting unbalanced, trying to walk alongside the walls as close as possible in case he needs it for leaning. He's holding Terra, after all, and hanging onto her gets slightly difficult at times. What the -hell- was that stuff? More then likely something that also contained hallucinogens. He keeps swearing the hallway is bright purple till he blinks his eyes.

...While Selphie feels very sorry for Terra and all, and despite the fact that -she's- been 'busy' all day long, it's -her- anniversary! Well, with Irvine. The point is, she's quietly wishing that this would all go much faster, so that she can, you know, get a present. And give one, but still. Trying to sound positive, however, she notes, "At least you won't have any problems sleeping tonight, Terra...!"

Oh, that helped. Terra makes some kind of sound, acknowledging that she has yet to actually pass out, but it doesn't sound like a hugely cheerful or energetic sound, either. She does add, in a more neutral tone - since they're presumably reaching the dorms soon - "My room's not.." Inhale, and - "Locked." Ow. Head.

Irvine is half stumbling himself now, half with his own problems after the alcohol treatment, and half cause Terra's squirming too often and it knocks his balance off. Reaching Terra's door, he glances at Selphie and slips in, expecting her to follow.

Selphie, indeed, follows. But hangs at the doorway, giving Irvine's stumble an odd look. Did he drink some too? But he wasn't acting drunk earlier! So maybe he just tripped. ...Yeah! No problems here. Leaning against the doorframe, Selphie glances around a bit, waiting for Terra to get 'tucked in.'

Terra's room is, well, Nothing Special. There's wintery clothes laid out, along with a largish and empty knapsack, but otherwise things are dull and blank. If and when she gets placed on the bed, she says, more audibly, "Thank you..." And then rolls over. Nnnnngh. Maybe her brain won't actually crack the top of her skull like it feels like it's gonna. x.@

Irvine takes Terra toward the bed, setting her down as easily as he can. He's not really sure what else he can do for her at this point, except make sure she's tucked in. He does glance around for a trash can or bucket, or something he can leave by her bed in case she needs it in the night sometime. "Well, good night, Miss Terra. I sure hope you feel ok in the morning." His voice isn't slurring, so he's not drunk really, just kinda off. The hallucinogen gets to him more then the alcohol. Falling back, he turns the light off before shutting the door.