2.14 – Party

Natalie could hear the loud, thumping music nearly from the Union Plaza. The healer’s guild was in the back right of the five-pronged star, at least from the direction Natalie approached, and as she closed the gap to the white and green building—green was the color of healers, the same way gray was for tanks, or red for fighters—it started to vibrate in Natalie’s head.

She found herself grinning in anticipation. She’d been honest when she’d said that she hadn’t come to Tenet to party, but that the pseudo-university was infamous for them? Well, she didn’t consider that a bad thing. Plus, after the events of the past few hours—or, gods, honestly the past week—she could use a few drinks. Time to cut loose and burn off some stress. Company with Sammy was sure to do that. A girl with who her relationship hadn’t become so suddenly complicated, like Jordan. Not that Jordan’s company was ever stress-inducing, just, it’d become … again, complicated.

People were strewn about the benches, yard, and the pointed edge of the plaza leading up to the guild. Tons of them. Dozens and dozens, probably close to a hundred, outside alone, bleeding from the healer’s guild and out into the Union Plaza, encroaching on other guild’s territories. Half the campus had to be here.

Some stood about, drinking and talking, others playing various sorts of drinking games. They’d appropriated tables from somewhere and set them up outside, the inside of the guild apparently too cramped.

Natalie even saw some couples getting probably a bit too frisky for public, emboldened by how the sun had set, and, presumably, the alcohol buzzing in them. Natalie only smirked, glancing sideways as the couples so shamelessly—and not half as subtly as they thought—groped each other. It boded well for her. Managing the less appropriate parts of her class really might be easier than she’d first thought. The Tenet campus had redundantly made itself clear: not a prudish place to be.

Inside, the healer’s guild was cramped, as expected of the packed outdoors. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, and the flashing, magical effects zipping around the room to add ambiance. The music was even louder in here, though she grew quickly accustomed to it. Definitely, it wasn’t the same atmosphere as parties back home. Or, kind of. Same basic package: stands with drinks, cliques clumped together laughing and drinking, dim lighting and the smell of alcohol in the air.

But everything was dialed up. And the crowd, the sheer number of people, was dialed up twice over. There were so many people. Natalie had been reminded constantly that she’d crawled out of nowhere-land and to the capital city of Valhaur, but here, she was given another huge one. Seriously, half the campus must have come to this party. It was packed.

Her eyes sought out Sammy. In face of the enormous press of bodies, she was suddenly concerned about whether she’d even be able to find her. Sammy was waiting for her, right? Watching the doorway from wherever she was, maybe the upper balcony? But people were streaming in and out, and Natalie didn’t want to stand in the way. She scanned around the enormous lobby, and higher up, tracing the stairs and the upper landing. But it was too dim. No success.

Shrugging to herself—she’d find Sammy eventually—she waded through the crowd, headed for the drinks table. Sammy was Natalie’s first priority, but getting buzzed was a secondary mission. Might as well attend to that one first, then tackle the other afterward.

She briefly noted the people here. She’d come dressed the way she usually did, though with a bit more effort than normal, and that was probably a good thing, because even with the extra effort, she looked kind of scruffy. She wasn’t alone in that style, but most of Tenet’s studentbase had a casual form of dress that was only a step or two below Natalie’s formal.

Tenet’s typical student was a stuffy aristocrat. Nobody looked oddly at Natalie for her jeans and t-shirt—and she even caught some appreciaivte glances, but that probably wasn’t for her choice of clothing—but she felt a bit out of place, regardless. Hopefully Sammy didn’t think she looked bad. Maybe Natalie would have to start paying some more attention to how she dressed. It’d been fine back at Tinford, but her lack of effort was a lot more noticeable here.

Though, having those thoughts just made Natalie’s annoyance flare. Why the fuck would she care? If they thought Natalie looked scruffy because she hadn’t worn button-ups or a dress to a party, then that was their problem.

The drink table, keeping to the trend, also wasn’t like Natalie was used to. Instead of flimsy disposable cups, there were crystal glasses stacked in rows. She eyed them, incredulous, wondering how the entire display wouldn’t end up broken come the morning. Or even an hour from now. Or even yet, since the party was definitely underway. There were more than a few people already becoming rambunctious. Natalie hadn’t arrived late, but she hadn’t arrived early, either.

Either way, Natalie didn’t pause for long, staring at the ridiculous display of crystal glass. It wasn’t her problem if they ended up broken. At a guess, they were more durable than they looked. Didn’t matter. She picked one, then took the heavy iron ladle and poured herself a glass of, presumably, punch. At least that looked normal, though she supposed it was hard to make fruit punch ostentatious. What would they do? Add garnish?

She sniffed. It smelled more strongly of alcohol than she’d expected. Stepping to the side to clear away from the table, she took a drink. The taste confirmed it—they’d hadn’t gone light on the mixing.

She didn’t plan on getting wasted tonight, so she’d probably keep to one or two. The goal was to be ending up in Sammy’s room, and sex while plastered—while not the worst thing in the world—wasn’t her goal tonight. She needed her wits about her. She still had the ‘big reveal’ to navigate.

At the reminder of that—how Sammy would react—she grimaced and took another drink.

“Hey!” a familiar voiced exclaimed to her side, making Natalie blink and turn her way. “I was calling for you!” Sammy stood there, hands on her hips. “What are you, deaf?”

Sammy grinned despite the words, cheeks slightly flushed, her friendly demeanor even more teased out by the excited atmosphere. Or more accurately, the alcohol. She’d definitely been drinking; the hint of redness on her cheeks made that obvious, if the wide smile hadn’t. But her words were spoken clearly, without a slur. Sammy wasn’t drunk, just tipsy.

Natalie was suddenly appreciative that Sammy had made her intentions clear. That, assuming Natalie didn’t screw anything up, the two of them would be ‘making it back to her room’. It cleared up any hesitations on whether—if anything happened—it’d been the alcohol. Definitely Sammy’s plan from the start. Still, she hoped Sammy wouldn’t get drunk-drunk. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t care, but for a first time, especially considering Natalie’s circumstances—the surprise addition between her legs—she’d rather Sammy had a mostly clear head.

“Not yet,” Natalie answered, having to half-shout the words over the pounding music. “But by the time we leave, I might be. I can’t even hear myself think.” The blaring music added to the ambiance, but seriously. It was loud.

“It’s quieter up on the balcony,” Sammy said. “Here, come with me.”

She grabbed Natalie’s hand, and Natalie let herself be dragged away. She took a second drink as she went. By Sammy’s flushed cheeks, she had some catching up to do.