It's not everyday I throw a party. Wait that's a lie. {OPEN}

"What, I'm not invited to my own parties anymore?"

The day had started out much like any other day. Only, this one began with a prank phone call. Might have been a wrong-number, but the dialer or dialee was female, sounded frank, and may or may not have been out to get him. In a bedroom kind of way, he wished. Another breach in security, another day. It made Jack wonder how anyone before Aaron himself managed to maintain a secure network anywhere let alone protect Creta's secrets, (which were really not that great tbh). Regardless, when this lady called, his phone died--fried. Better term. Unsalvageable, all that. Funny, he had thought himself to be the only one capable of creating something with that much output. A phone call? He was still getting over that. Probably a calibration issue, system vs device. Anyway, it was already fixed. So, while that happened, the ancient motherboard of, oh just the main security of the White House was taken down. Now, mind you, he was in the process of updating the entire system. And Aaron, well, Bioshock Infinite finally hit stores in Creta last week. Yeeeeah.

He threw his phone into the corner, grabbed the nearest touch screen, and proceeded to detect the coordinates of said rude interruption. The lady's Creig accent didn't give her away at all. "You're mine," she said. But unfortunately, she didn't have facetime, could be godawful ugly. In fact, by the sound of her voice, she was probably missing a few teeth. Scratch that. All of them. Unbrushed, disgraceful by dentist standards, curly cues of opposite pearly whites. But he digresses. She actually wasn't from--didn't live in Carraig. Not important. What was important from this whole fiasco, was that she was now behind bars. Not that bars could stop him from ruining her entire arsenal of techy gear and insulting attempts at terrorism. Dust. Or more accurately, wires--wires in the wind now. A couple of codes sent right back through that big, large portal of cyberspace she opened to contact him and everything she owned, everything she cared about, in his hands. Why did she call him then? He might have gotten drunk once and could have possibly spilled his phone number at some point and potentially bragged about getting a high position in the military with a bit of clearance pertaining to, well, everything. And yeah, drinking is bad.

Shhhhhtttt. The bottle cap touched down. "Welcome back, Jack." Some chick he didn't know.

"Can I at least take my shoes off?" Classy. Expensive beer. Not the best tasting. He had it stashed away from his last 'gathering'. He swallowed and swatted a stray graze of orange hair from out of his face. Made him remember with clarity that his body was just a rental. Ouch. The bloodseal smarted in retaliation, but honestly that was all just in his head.

"You can do whatever you want." 'Course he could. This was his house, his party, his--

"With you?" At this point, he was dragged away. By whom, he wasn't really paying mind to; he was too busy finishing off his beer and wondering "Who started all this anyway?" Damn, he should really work from home.

Another one of those days where Aaron was trying to be nice. Against his better judgement, he decided to help with Jack's party. The man had been working way too hard and it was one of those things he enjoyed.. right? God the whole thing was awkward for Aaron. The hardest part was trying to convince people to come to Jack's house. His cheek still hurt as one of Jack's other friends had punched him in the jaw. At the moment he stood in the bathroom, nursing a lump on his chin. Damn, it hurt like hell. He had seen stars actually. Whatever that guy's name was, he had a HELL of a punch. The ice pack stung like hell when Aaron pressed it to his chin. Maybe he should exercise some more.. nah.

Deciding that standing around in the bathroom all day wouldn't work, he finished getting ready. In fact, Aaron actually shaved. Yes. His stubble was gone for the night. In hopes that it would help hide the bruise, he popped up the color of his white shirt (The only nice one he really had) and rolled up his sleeves. He look presentable, but his hair would remain a mess. A complete mess that was untameable despite the whole half an hour he spent trying to get it flat. At least he had tried?

The guests started coming in and all looked equally displeased to see him. It was okay, though, because this wasn't for Aaron. He just decided to try and NOT embarrass Jack. Aaron dressed for company. He felt a bit weird and uptight, but hey, it was worth it he supposed.

Jack came in clueless and rather annoyed which made Aaron paranoid. Was this a bad decision? "Can I at least take my shoes off?"

"You can do whatever you want." Aaron had started but Jack just brushed by.

"With you? Who started all this anyway?"

.. Aaron actually blushed. Damn it Jack. He swore in his head. Why did he have to make things so awkward? "You did, didn't you?" Aaron rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and sighed. "Look, Jack. I just saw how hard you work and shit. Ugh.. just.. you like these kinds of things don't you? I kinda tried to help out." He was trying, probably too hard. It wasn't like impression or anything of the like, but Aaron cared too much for Jack to just let him overwork himself. Or something like that, he convinced himself. He probably looked pathetic and likely his phobia of massive amounts of people would kick in, but he could swallow it all. Aaron was the suffer in silence type anyways.

His goofy grin showed nerves, while he looked away. "I mean- uhh.. if you don't like it, you can send them all home, but I brought some drinks in from my stash." Oh .. right.. he hadn't mentioned his stash. Eh, he could deal with that later. It wasn't like Aaron had a lot of alcohol, since he rarely drank anyways, but Hell he might have one drink.

Then he caught sight again of all the people. Aaron had to remember to breathe. Right, too many people (though to a normal person, there was only a handful). All of them were in the same house and drinking and God. "HE-HEY! DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Aaron stammered, as he saw a man pointing to his computer. The man looked up and laughed at him, but walked away. Thank god. "Anyways.. yeah.. I'll uh.. be around.. helping hosting.. and .. shit.. I guess."

"Look, Jack. I just saw how hard you work and shit. Ugh.. just.. you like these kinds of things don't you? I kinda tried to help out." He kind of heard him. With a cocky smile and the rest of his beer, he turned to the party-goers party-comers with sardonic eyes. That was more like it.

"To putting O'Malley in jail!" He cheered. Unenthusiastically. Honestly, he wanted to destroy her first, but his report to the authorities had surprisingly quick results. But again, like he said, bars weren't going to protect her from the shitstorm he was considering. Then again, wouldn't that be cruel? He really didn't want to be that guy--the cruel guy--the guy everyone hated because he was an asshole. Yet wouldn't that be like lying to yourself? He was totally that guy, and he was totally going to do it. No considering involved, really.

Everyone raised their glasses in cheer. So much happiness it nearly make the beer come back up his throat: empty stomach and bubbles. He swallowed hard and composed his latest bow-before-me smile that pretty much said just that. The music was turned back up and people started dancing all over his newly polished floors. Not like he cared, but still he was--who were half these people?! He looked the other way and grabbed another beer near Aaron who looked like he was about to give birth. Wasn't his. "I mean- uhh..." he raised an eyebrow, "if you don't like it, you can send them all home, but I brought some drinks in from my stash." Jack grinned and slapped him on the back. Good friend.

"Used to it. Every Tuesday night someone usually throws some sort of party. Seems you picked the perfect day. God, rich people and their flamboyant shit. Sometimes it drives me crazy, other times it can be kinda fun. I say that now, but after a few more beers, nothing'll matter. Hey, is that a lump on your chin? What the hell? Did you run into a wall again? You really need to watch where you're going sometimes, you can't go around thinking that things will get out of your way for you; you gotta move them yourself sometime--most of the time." Jack meandered off to the other side of the drink table, coasting with a bit of a swing in his step to the music. "That's probably your best shirt, isn't it? You need new clothes. Remind me, I'll take you out to get a better selection. Trust me, it'll be fun. You, me, the open road."

"HE-HEY! DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Jack whirled around to see the guy, then turned back to Aaron with a laugh.

"Doesn't matter I have a million of those." Those, computers. He could make 'em from leftover scrap metal from the junkyard and it would still operate better than most computers in the mainstream market. Ahahah.

Ahhh, parties. William really didn't go to as many parties as he used to, these days, whatwith being nearly in his mid-thirties. But back in high school, haha, THOSE were the days! He was a regular party animal, then! These days, though, he could still party, he just did it... Classier. That is to say, he showed up at a house party in a nice white tux, with a matching fedora atop his messy locks, a rather fancy (and expensive T^T) blue rose pinned to his lapel. And comically depressing, as always, he'd special-ordered the seeds for them from Aerugo, only to find that there was no such thing as a truly blue rose, without dying a white rose; they are actually a mauve-ish purple. Ah well, it looked nice on his tux anyways. He certainly looked out of place though; whereas everyone else seemed to be dressed like they were out at the club, he seemed to have gotten lost headed for an aristocratic gala or a wedding of some sort. It was just how he rolled; class over conformity!

And likewise, in stark contrast to the beer, while expensive, he'd gone out and bought a small bottle of champagne, currently residing in his inner tux pocket, like a bawss. Even if Sun would probably murder him for blowing half their budget on flowers and a single bottle of booze... WORTH IT! For a single party... Finding a glass, and thoroughly washing it (who knows what someone could have been doing with it just moments ago!?), he poured a glass of dat crisp champ, and sipped it a bit, seeking out the parties' hosts. He was quite interested in finding them, as they WERE pretty cool guys, or so he assumed. He really didn't hang out with them much, outside work...

But they WERE his bosses, and he figured it wouldn't hurt to be social for once. Soon enough, he heard familiar voices and followed them, waving as he spotted the pair of men shooing away some guy at a computer. And as he approached them, it occurred to him; they looked so YOUNG. Like, they had to be in their twenties, fresh out of college or something! And here he was, father of two, in his THIRTIES. LIKE SOME KIND OF ANCIENT DINOSAUR. Mind, six years wasn't much difference, but to HIM, he felt OOOOOOOOOOOLD. DID HE EVEN KNOW HOW TO TALK TO YOUNG PEOPLE ANYMORE!? HE USED TO BE HIP, WAS HE STILL HIP!? OH GOD. DOES ANYBODY EVEN SAY HIP ANYMORE!? "'Loha, fellas~ Great party you guys got goin' on here. Totally rad." SUCCESS. HE'D USED A COOL WORD THAT PEOPLE USED TO SOUND HIP. "Erm... People still say rad, right...? Please tell me that wasn't just when I was in high school..." So much for playing it cool, William...