IRL: Literotica SRP Convention

(Any who wish to join..go to the OOC)


Sighing, she contented herself with pacing around the hotel room, invite in hand, as she waited for the make-up to dry. It would be a lie to say she wasn't nervous, but she was good at those so she might as well. Catherine was not nervous. Oh yeah, much more convincing. Looking at the invite she was busy turning around with her fingers, she perused over the minute details of it once again. No, she wasn't obsessed. She was just easily bored and distracted as well, as it turned out. Very fortunate that they came hand in hand like that. It wasn't like she could sit down and read right now. For one the hotel problem wouldn't like having theater make-up on their furniture. That stuff was a bitch to get out of cloth. So, right now at this moment she was naked except for make-up put in places that only the actress playing Mystique had ever probably imagined make-up would go. It was her own fault. She always did tend to make things too ornate and complicated when she got the chance.

The thing was, she wanted to match her screen name. For some odd reason she found it important to do so. It could have been just a simple outfit and a mask, but oh nooo she just had to cover all her bases. Now her skin was covered in swirling patterns of blue, gold and white. That wasn't too bad, but her back and ass had been a bitch to do and there was no way in hell she was going to go through the trouble of re-doing it if it smudged. Experimentally, she touched her cheek and pulled her fingers away. Nothing. Then she touched her lower back. Again, nothing. Great. Now the only way that stuff was coming off was if it was pressed against or scrubbed off.

"Now on to the rest of this bullshit."

Yes, there was more. First, the panties. They were new. Silk. They felt weird. Nice, but weird. Then a slip in another effort to keep the make-up from ruining her clothes. Now for the the tough part. It was definitely a risque-less dress. Probably not appropriate for going among a bunch of people that were virtual fuck-buddies, but again, she wanted to keep with her screen name. The look that most people would see her in was a combination of her icons. The dress, high-collared, dark, long-sleeved, Edwardian inspired, and built with more buttons than she thought necessary as she worked fitting one black, pearl-sized button into into its' corresponding loop at a time. It was fitted and accordingly tight around her ribcage, but she could breath. Her hair had already been pinned into a flat bun on the crown of her head. Now she only tied the featureless white mask over her face and places a long black wig over own short brown locks completed the image. Turning to a nearby mirror, she let out a low whistle as she inspected her work.

"Damn, that's freaky."

Then she giggled. It was exactly what she was going for. No matter how she turned, the only part of her skin the was exposed were her hands. Now to go mingle among the populace. Picking up her invite, she pinned her name tag, her screen name of UnseenMaiden scrawled in flowing black letters, onto her dress and strolled out the door.

The event was supposed to last throughout the weekend and was a landmark occasion. It had even made national television. Not only because of the adult content of the Literotica site, but because the convention was supposed to be completely uncensored. A few on the general forums had been noted to say that it promised to be a veritable playground of erotic delights. By the time Catherine had received her invitation in the mail, she'd already filled out more forms asserting her real and online identity than she cared to count.

Once she entered the auditorium-like space, it wasn't hard to see what the hype was all about. Rooms had been set up along the perimeter, each featuring a different fetish. The walls were clear but when she moved forward, she realized that they were actually double sided mirrors. Those inside wouldn't be able to tell who was watching them or if anyone was. The couple before her were fairly vanilla compared to others she had spotted, but she could still feel herself getting turned on in response to the scene of their copulation.

Sighing, Catherine shook her head faintly and forced herself to look at the pamphlet she had been handed on the way in. She could ogle at others later, for now she needed to make her way to the Lilac Conference room and register for the costume contest.

“It’s only a bit of fun…” She kept repeating to herself. Pulling her strapless bra around her breasts and adjusting her matching black panties, she then carefully pulled her black dress over her head. With its asymmetrical neckline, it skimmed her curves down to the floor, a side split revealing flashes of her legs up to her thigh when she walked. The black dress, she hoped, would compliment her online identity, along with her long dark hair, curling halfway down her back.

Sighing she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Pausing to add a little mascara to her already long eyelashes and smudge a little eyeliner along her lids, she then stepped back, gave herself another glance and then left the hotel room. Fingers idly toying with the name tag pinned to her dress’ sole shoulder strap, announcing her as ‘Britwitch’ as she headed into the auditorium.

Her blue eyes widened as she took in the sights. So many people milling around, some clearly on the prowl, others as taken aback as she was.

She felt a tingle race up her spine as a man passed, his eyes passing appreciatively over her curves as he did so. She tried to read his name tag but he’d already moved on. It was definitely a strange thrill to know that in this room were people she had written erotic scenes and stories that were, in some ways, more than anything she had ever experienced in real life and now…they were all in the same room.

When the invitation had arrived she had faltered over responding. But her other half had, surprisingly enough, encouraged her, making her promise to share her experiences with him when she returned but only if she had enjoyed herself. Otherwise, if it turned out to be a mistake, they would forget it and move on.

Licking her lips, Britwitch moved further into the auditorium, glancing at the people passing by as she opted to stand in a shady corner, almost out of sight. Preferring to watch for a little while before making any decisions about talking to anyone…or doing anything else.

Josh

Anyone standing out in front of the Convention center could hear the bass before the vehicle came into view. The 96 Mustang, showing a great deal of wear and tear, rolled slowly around the corner. The white paint had peeled away from the piece of metal above the windshield and layers of rust had built up, the convertable top looked splotchy with water stains and tears. Lastly the three bullet holes in the passenger side door marked the car forever as "The Crustang".

Despite the nice weather, the top was up (as always), but it was next to impossible to see inside. Thick clouds of white smoke filled the cab, only occasionally whisping out through tears in the cloth cover or the bullet-holes. When the passenger side door flew open the music increased in volume ten-fold, echoing down the street. Billows of the same acrid white smoke rolled over onto the sidewalk, followed shortly by a black and green Air Jordan size 13 shoe.

Grassy stepped out of the car, passing a still burning blunt to the driver, wearing an oversized white Tshirt which hangs almost to his knees. An equally oversized portrait of The Joker has been replicated in pen on the front of the shirt.

"Thanks for the ride Steve... Hopefully I'll be able to find a room to crash in tonight, so you don't have to come back." I say while grabbing a small duffel bag from the back seat. "Only thing I'm certain of is that I won't be fit to drive myself."

"No problems, blood." Steve replies hazly, "Thanks for lettin me borrow your car for the weekend."

"No worries bro. See you Monday." I say, closing the bullet riddled door closed. "I wonder how much they charge for drinks in there."

Josh suddenly jumps, remembering the nametag and invitation. He begins fishing around through the pockets of his jeans, locating his sought items at last in his back right pocket.

"Let's get this party started!" He says out loud, placing his "LitShark" nametag opposite the portrait on his white T.

Josh walks in through the large convention doors grinning like an idiot, as he tended to do when he was excited. His wide smile almost mimicking the one drawn on his shirt.

Upon entering the exhibit hall he stands in awe for a moment, scanning the overall layout with his sharp green eyes (Contrasting with the bloodshot red).

"I wonder who I know here..."

Dan approached the convention center from the parking garage on the south side, hands thrust deep in his pockets, keeping an even pace. His green eyes took in everything around him as he entered, wondering who was going to be here tonight. It's a good thing everyone had name tags, else he imagined they would have to introduce themselves over and over again to everyone they met.

Speaking of nametags, he almost forgot. Fixing his to the front of his silk-black dress shirt, he eyed it to make sure it was at least semi straight. It read simply, "Leopald". Satisfied, he gazed around the room, looking for anyone he knew. Of course he didn't see anyone he recognized. Without being close enough to read the tags, he wasn't able to pick out anyone's face in particular.

He headed to the bar and ordered a Jack and Coke, and once he had his drink, shoved one hand back in the pocket of his plain black slacks and wandered arounds, trying to find someone to mingle with. He had chosen black because his profile and characters he usually portrayed were very dark and Dominant. He had tried to get the elegant look to the silk, and hoped he had succeeded.

He smiled slightly at a passing woman.

It was just another fine day outside. However, unlike many other similar days, Paula was not going to spend it in her room in front of a computer, or reading a book. Nope, today was a special day that brought a powerful reason to cast off the chains of e-slavery and go out there into The World (tm).

This didn´t mean she was a pirate, though. She was actually pretty nervous, which probably was what made her choose the clothes she wore. Clothes she felt comfortable in, casual and stylish in the "look at me, I´m like one of those famous rich singles that go to prestigious events in jeans because I´m rich and famous and wacky like that" way. She felt better in her beige pants, tight enough to show off her hips but let her blood run past them, and completely white blouse worn out of her pants a la Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. Well, the blouse was a few inches shorter than that, which made her breasts stand out and a bit of waist show when she bent over or stretched, but who didn´t like looking sexy? The occasion demanded it.

She just hoped there was a dancing stage to make the look worth it.

"Ok, it´s here." She told the taxi driver in her slow, hard-toned English as she reached for her black purse.

She paid the taxi driver, didn´t bother to take the change, and strode into the convention area with a confident outlook. The same way action movie cops walked into a bar full of criminals hoping not to get disembowelled. Her dark ponytail flapped against her back as she walked in, taking in the sights. Most people that had come looked fairly normal, leaving aside a couple of weirdos, the lady in the lady dress, and... the ones engaged in voyeuristic activities with a little bit of every other imaginable fetish, and a couple she didn´t even know about.

As her sight sweeped away from them, Paula realized everyone was wearing their nametags. Cursing softly in Spanish, she dug into her purse. Good thing she was one of those people who was used to make up for poor memory by preparing everything as soon as she was reminded about it. The nametag she received was a little bit too short for the full "Katamari Roller" name, so she simply wrote "Katamari", and then brought out her special identification. A pin with a multi-colored ball pushed by the tiny Prince of Cosmos. The nametag went right above her left breast, and the pin to its right. She thought she looked fairly good with the colourful pin, but that was up to others to decide. The same as her golden earrings, her lip gloss, and her mascara. A little bit of make up went nearly everywhere, but she wanted to go more or less natural.

It wouldn´t do to hide her true self... after all, she had come precisely to show herself to other writers. And speaking of that, she began wandering around to see if she could find one of her old writing partners...

It had been something of a surprise to him when the invite had arrived at his door, considering his only casual stops at the Literotica forums, and the fact he had never posted a single story. None the less, there it was in a fine, curving script; RP519. His nom de plumb, on those few occasions he'd used it.

That had been weeks ago when it came, and he'd looked forward to the event since...he rarely got out, and a weekend long convention sounded like a pretty good excuse to do just that. Now however, standing outside the convention center doors in his black slacks, collared shirt, and darkly red tie, suitcase in hand, the weight of it all came down upon him and he felt suddenly nervous.

He took a brief detour up to his room to unpack, hoping the extra few minutes would help to settle his nerves. It didn't, not really, but it did give him time enough to decide I'm here already, I don't fly back until Sunday night, so either I can waste my trip here in the room gorging on room service and pay-per-view movies, or I can grow a spine and go down there among the other life forms.

Pinning his nametag to his shirt and taking a moment to run a brush through his red-brown hair, he gave a sigh and went down to the main hall, stepping in with more than a little feeling of unease...crowds always got him...which he could only hope would pass in due time.

An hour. That's about as long as it took for boredom to settle firmly around her. Her short attention span striked again.Well, really Catherine was being more than a little melodramatic. She'd never expected not to be bored. She was almost always bored. The only thing to do was always have something around to entertain herself with and this place was full of new things for her to do so with anyways. Not that this ever kept her from daydreaming like she was now. Even though she held a book in her hands and had actually been enjoying the story.

Suddenly a wave of panic washed over her and she glared at the guy next to her for feeling so hard. Yes, she was aware it wasn't really something he could control, but she had all her walls up as it was and the fact that even one person's emotion got in for a little bit was enough to piss her off. Which meant there really wasn't much to do except to find out what his problem was and fix it. She wasn't being nice. She was being selfish. Sighing, she studied the stranger for signs. He was glancing around now, not unusual and it didn't seem like he was looking for something specific, so it wasn't a particular person that had him all riled up. His muscles were tensed though, probably because she was staring at him so openly. A smirk of abject amusement formed behind her mask when she realized what it was and settled back in her chair.

"Yeah....look you have to ignore them as fiercely as possible. If you don't, your head is liable to catch on fire or something."

She was laughing now, soft chuckles that she held her breath for so she wouldn't give voice to them. Though that didn't stop her shoulders from shaking. It was mean, she knew, but she'd been dealing with the same problem, albeit more than likely for a completely different reason, ever since she got here. She didn't like people and she hated crowds. One more person added to the mix meant one more thing or things she might feel. It was why she had all of her walls around her now, why she had to keep mentally re-inforcing them, and why she was determinedly ignoring the undercurrent of anquish that seemed to come with most every crowd. Frowning at the sudden thought, she glanced back at her book and rushed back into the words in order to distract hersef from those around her.

Josh had been mesmerized by one of the small mirrored cubicles in which a couple were occupied with some very energetic Doggy-Style pounding. He was almost drooling in his fixation with the sex scene when a girl in a mask and very ornate gown spoke to him.

He turned a bit late, as she had already sat in a nearby arm chair and retreated into her book.

"Let me guess..." Josh said, holding his hand up to obscure the girl's nametag from view. "UnseenMaiden right? Sorry about that, I didn't see you there.... Haha..."

Josh trails off as his mild attempt at humor falls short.

"I'm Josh, but my friends call me Grassy. What do you answer to in the world outside of 1's and 0's?" He asks, feigning confidence as he pulls up the armchair next to her and sits.

"Let me guess... UnseenMaiden right? Sorry about that, I didn't see you there.... Haha..."

She'd been caught of guard when he spoke to her, had been at least expecting the other one to speak to her instead, but she didn't let it show and slipped a finger between the pages of her book in order to look at the other man. One that seemed to be familiar with her. To be frank, she hated his joke, it was one she'd only heard hundreds of times before, and was sorely tempted to cause him physical harm for making it. Still she couldn't really go around maiming people all the time. That would just get messy real quick and she was seriously way too lazy to make it worth the effort.

"I'm Josh, but my friends call me Grassy. What do you answer to in the world outside of 1's and 0's?"

"Lilith."

The lie slid easily from her tongue for no reason other than she could. It wasn't that she was a compulsive liar. She was very conscious of her lies and the decision to make them. She could definitely tell the truth if she wanted to, but she happened to find it amusing from time to time to see exactly how much bullshit she could get away with. At least she wasn't telling him some fake life story about how she was a government agent or something like that. A name was so easily cast aside anyways.

"Nice to meet you...LitShark"

She'd roleplayed with him all of once. A pirates rp if she remembered correctly. She'd liked his character, though the specifics escaped her. The only thing she really missed about that rp was her own creation, Selene. Selene had been such a fun little thing to play, all cuteness and death. It made her feel faintly forlorn just thinking about it. So she made a mental note to definitely play the little psycho next time she got the chance. She didn't smile behind the mask, but she didn't really need to, so it didn't matter. Decorum demanded she shake his hand though. Therefore she extended it along with her introduction.

"Oh, goddammit."

Stumbling out of the bathroom of the hotel room, one leg stuck in the pair of black silk pants while the other had already gotten into the black boot she had forgotten needed to be in the actual PANTLEG first, SJ took a moment to glance at the clock. Yet another place she was running late. Well, true to life...

Having resituated the whole leg-and-boot issue, she set about swapping glasses for contacts. It seemed weird to her, really, how doing so gave her the Superman feel. With the frames on her face, she was the girl everyone knew at home.. but without, she felt like someone completely different. One of the joys of being a theatre student.

That, and the lack of concern to be half naked in a room full of other half naked people. She laughed to herself on that, pulling her recently magenta-ed hair up in a half-assed ponytail before shoving the white lily blossom into the top if it. There.

It wasn't much longer before she finally made her way to the lobby, stopping by the main table to grab her name tag. Started to write it out, she paused as she realized she had written a bit too big.

"Crap. Can I get another one?"

With a new sticker, she wrote it out once again, this time managing to squeeze all of 'Mephistophelily' onto one sticky. Slapping it against her black tank, she grinned at the guy at the table, starting into the auditorium. She had wondered for awhile what her fellow writers were like in person, but this whole mess before her was starting to make her wonder about her decision to come here. Were those people- Yep, they were making 'friends' quite quickly over there. Blowing a soft whistle between her teeth, she just shook her head.

Just like the forums; some people wanted to skip the whole conversations and just get straight to the fucking...

Bernie walked into the Hotel it was plush and he knew he was acting like the tourist he was as he grazed open eyed at the whole place. He was carrying one suitcase and a massive sports bag, he'd have just used his back pack my a friends wife had forbidden that saying something about impressions and trying to make a good one.

Reaching the reception he smiled at the young lady behind the counter "Yeah G'day I have a room reservation" repeating himself and speaking slower finally got a result.

As he followed a chap who was carrying his bags, something that bemused him , he was aware of the whole bellhop thing in movies but he felt a liitle odd getting someone else to do a job he was more than capable of doing, he looked at all the people they passed and wondered if they were Lit's, it all seemed odd that he was actually going to meet these people after two years. He'd not been able to tell his friends what this convention was really about...the pressure they would have put on him would have been unbearable, even now his own instinct was the shoot thru and left this place.

Ten minutes later he walked out his hotel room a little name badge on it which read Eiselmann, he looked forward to meeting this people only slightly more than he looked forward to showing up and leaving without actually meeting anyone...he was a mess and yet he hide it well keeping his fears to himself a trait he'd developed growing up when fear was weakness and weakness got you a pounding.

"Shite" he said quietly as he walked into the conference room loads of people had already coupled up and where banging away....the story of his life. "Hi you wouldn't have Steinlager" he asked at the bar his New Zealand accent clear as he slowed his speech. "No, how about a Fosters? " the Aussie beer had managed to export itself everywhere...even here.

Costume Malfunction

"Nice to meet you...LitShark"

"Nice to meet you too Lilith." He says behind what he hopes is a charming smile.

Taking the offered hand, and without thinking, Josh leaned forward to kiss the back of it gently. He had not considered how stupid or corny it might have been, nor did he notice that her hand was ornately painted with blue and silver swirls, worse still was his failing to notice the silk covers which were situated over the plush armchairs in which they were seated.

If he had paid attention to any of these things, he might have avoided what happened next.

While pulling away from the brief kiss to Lilith's slender hand, the sterling silver "Hatchet-Man" chain got itself caught on the silk chair-cover. As the thin fabric stretched out, it built up momentum and soon tugged Josh's head downward onto Lilith's painted hand, leaving blue paint over his nose and forehead as well as pancaking that same dainty hand onto the chair of her seat.

"Oh Christ, I'm sorry..." Josh says startled, struggling to unhook his charm from his seat. "That's one way to make an impression I guess... Yeah, I'm the hand-kiss, head-butt guy."

It seemed impossible (maybe it was the drugs), but the stark white mask seemed to be scowling at him. The blank expressionless wash of purity, blatently judging him to his face.

"Did you really just try to kiss my hand, you loser?" The mask seemed to say.

It was really quite terrifying to stare into a motionless mask when suffering through a humiliating moment of discomfort. He sat there for a moment berating himself for trying such a risky maneuver right away, he wondered about why the instinct to attempt a hand-kiss had even struck his mind.

It must have been the dress...

Even though her mask seemed to say: "Fuck you, Go away!" The dress seemed to say: "Court Me, Swoon Me."

David spotted the bar area and made his way over, side-stepping around the collected masses to avoid bumping anyone; his mind flashed with paranoid images of accidently brushing against exactly the wrong woman, who would asume from their location he had made a move on her, and...well, he didn't want to consider beyond that.

As he walked, he became aware that his attire may be a bit much in comparison to others, and he quickly undid the red tie, stuffing it away in one pocket as he settled in at one end of the bar and ordered himself a diet soda. His attention turned to the entry, watching the guests as they arrived and began to mingle. Though it seemed 'mingle' was not the right word for them all. Some, yes, appeared to be conversing with one another. Others however simply gave in to the urge to merge, forming up in lines at the mirrored cubicles, while the less demonstrative left the lobby, no doubt scurrying away to their hotel rooms.

He gave a shake of his head and consulted a sign listing lectures that would be given over the next few days. "Improved Writing - Tips From the Experienced" sounded appealing, and he made a note to listen in on that one. His attetion went back to the people arriving as he sipped at his drink, feeling a bit easier inside his own skin now that he was settled in somewhat.

Upstairs in a somewhat spacious bedroom, Kim stood in front of her full-body mirror as she gave herself one last look over. Deciding that everything was in order, she ran her hands through her longer-than-usual blond hair before moving over to a different dresser to pick up her I.D. tag. Written on it were the words: TearsoftheWorld.

"Guess that's it," she said to herself.

Moving back over to her mirror, Kim couldn't help but smile as she realized she was about to head out and meet some of her online friends.

To her parents, however, Kim said she was going out for a job interview.

"Where are you going again?" her younger brother Mark asked, standing at her door with a smirkish look on his face.

"None of your business," Kim replied, promptly throwing a crumpled up shirt in his direction. Naturally he vacated the area almost immediately, so the shirt landed on the floor.

"Dumbass," Kim muttered under her breath.

It was a good thing that she decided to give herself one last-last lookover, as Kim decided to change her outfit completely. Her dress ensemble just didn't quite look right. Most of her outfits were composed of loose fitting shirts and jeans or shorts, though she did wear the occasional skirt. When she was younger, Kim had often been labeled as a tomboy for her short hair and boy style clothes. Now that she had filled out a little, grown her hair a bit longer, and dressed more like a women, Kim had almost no problem receiving various offers to go out.

For now she chose to wear a black, long sleeved shirt over a white undershirt, a pair of blue jeans with matching belt, and her sneakers. The I.D. tag she kept hidden until she would leave the house, putting it on once she neared the Convention Center.

Which, not surprisingly, was packed.

Packed full of people wearing identical tags, though with different names written on them.

Dan stood off to the side for a while, playing wallflower. He watched with some interest the small groups mingling, and some doing more than just mingling... He tilted his head to the side as he tried to grasp something his eyes were not quite comprehending.

Is she really fitting that entire thing in her..? Wow.

He broke his gaze with a start, and took a non-chalant sip of his drink. It usually took him a drink or two to get into the swing of things, but it was being made more difficult by the groups in various stages of interesting behavior. His eyes came across a very curious couple, the male looked like he'd just headbutted her hand.

The look of instant shame on his face was priceless though. One of those moments you wish you had a camera for, really. He watched as the guy struggled with something in seat, and Dan couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Then he looked down and realized he needed another drink.

He was about to head to the bar once more, when a woman passed, whom he cordially greeted.

A loud crash,a mubled curse,a shirt tossed out the bathroom door. Anita came hurring out of the shower,she wanted to make a good first impression to her Literotica friends. She had tried everything on she had and still wasnt happy.

"Damnit,Why cant they make everyone shaped the same,then we wouldnt have these problems."She muttered pulling on her low rider blue jeans,her pink thong showing above the waist band. She pulls on a white bikin bra and say the hell with it.

She takes elevator down and slowly walks into the convention area. SHe fills out her name tag Darkstarr39,and start to put it on,,she realises she has nowhere to put it cussing under her breath she sticks it on her jeans back pocket. She takes another and writes her Literotica name agains and slide it in her front pocket sticking out.

She goes to the bar,orders a budweiser in a bottle and turns looking around the room. She tries to see most of the crowd but being short sucks sometimes. She walks around noting everyone,she wouldnt know any of her lit buddies if they was standing next to her.

SJ noticed now that she had passed quite a number of people with drinks in their hands. Open bar? Sweet. Following the trail of cups-in-hands, she found the bar, ordering herself a Guiness before peeking back out at the horde of people. Sipping the bottle as it slid into her fingers, she gave a slight contented sigh. It'd been awhile since she'd had a drink. Ranny's birthday, back in- February.

Ieesh.

But drinking wasn't her reason for coming here. She could've done that very easily in New York. Hell, she lived 5 minutes from a bar. She had come here to meet her online buddies. Of course, it looked like some of the other online friends had other plans for coming here... Again, something she could have easily done at home.

And now there was a couple trying to go at it at the bar.

"Oh, come on... You're gonna spill my drink," She pouted, pulling her arm away from the woman's flailing hands before moving fully away from them. "Go get a room or something..."

"She likes to do it in public!," the man crooned from his hiding spot between her boobs.

"She like peanuts in her crotch, too?," SJ asked as she walked away, nodding towards the wooden bowl perched on the bar behind them. That guy had a pretty strong southern accent. It made her wonder, was her New York one that noticable? People had picked on her about it when she was in Georgia a few years ago. Hell, even her friend in Indiana said she sounded like she was straight out of NYC. Strange, especially when she could hear it in other NY'ers... Just not in herself.

Dan was just approaching the bar as there was a bit of a ruckus. It seemed that a couple had randomly started their own National Geographic special right there on the bar. Some spilled drinks, an annoyed woman with a heavy New York accent, and a bump into the back of said woman as she was trying to retreat. Another spilled drink. Guiness, if he could read what little of the label was showing through her fingers. Dan stumbled backwards and raised a hand to steady the woman he'd run into.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, dear heart. Let me get you another drink. My own is empty anyways," he said as he righted himself and struggled to make sure he read the bottle correctly. Satisfied, he made his way over to the bar, excused himself, reached between the rather sweaty couple, and took the two drinks he'd called for. He hoped nothing dripped in either of them as he extracted them carefully.

He returned, carrying each, to the woman he'd run into.

"My apologies again, here's a fresh one for ya."

Anita walked around a couple on the bar polishing the wood,she passed several people talking to each other but she herself wasnt brave enough to make first contact. She had never been an outright flirt or conversation starter. She took a drink of her budweiser and looked around she reached down and readjust her thong that had begun to slide lower inder her jeans.

She had just started to get away from the grunting gropers when someone bumped her, SJ at first thinking it was the guy smacking her for the comment she had made. Starting to turn around, a rather aggitated look on her face- she found someone completely different... Who was apologizing and trying to help her from falling over.

"Nice to see there are some gentlemen from the boards here," She said with a smirk, nodding at his offer for a replacer.

"Thanks for that. Can you believe those guys. God. Wonder if they even know each other's name?" She took a drink, pausing as she looked to his nametag. "I mean, aside from these." She tapped her own, shaking her head. "You think they'd want some other name to call each other. Don't find crooning 'You're so hot, Boobs69' that attractive..."

"Speakin' of which..." She smiled, holding out her hand. "I'm 'Lily online, but most people call me SJ off of it."

There's another one. Let's see, that would be...oh, only 'bout a dozen just here in the bar. Assuming that couple is with us, I couldn't spot nametags on them.

Remec stepped out of the way of the man with multiple drinks, then slipped into the void he left behind and called out, to the bartender before they moved to someone else. "Vodka and Coke, please. Thanks."

Turning with his glass, he stirred the swizzle stick a few times while checking out the crowd. Who would have thought a little national attention would pump things up like this? Is this what Chicago is going to be like in a few more years? Or any of the other Litogether sites?

As his gaze recrossed the room, he looked beyond the man he had passed and cocked his head slightly. Remec was positive he knew that woman. Well, only by name and silhouette, granted, but sometimes that was could enough for an icebreaker.

Now, he wondered to himself, go straight over and make introductions based off of being a fellow conventioneer, or wander close enough to read her name and see if it really was who he thought it was. Crap! What if she only used her real name on the nametag?

Remec suddenly took off his own nametag and rolled his eyes. Naturally, he'd put his name name on his own. With a sigh, he slipped a pen from his pocket and added REMEC above his name; then, as a side thought, put Aldarras within parentheses in a smaller font below the name.

That should cover all bases.

He pinned the nametag back on his shirt--one of those fantasy themed shirts from The Mountain, this one fire red and orange with a wizard centered upon it--put the pen away, and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Then Remec brushed a hand through his beard and headed across the room.

Mephistophelily said:

"Speakin' of which..." She smiled, holding out her hand. "I'm 'Lily online, but most people call me SJ off of it."

Click to expand...

Dan chuckled, "Yeah, I could just see it now, "Oh, God, Jester419, your so good at this!'" He broke off in a laugh now. When he regained compsure, he kept the smile and said, "Pleasure to meet you. Most everyone calls me Leo online, but the flesh before you is Dan."

She was quite charming, her New York accent not nearly as clear when she wasn't yelling. It was quite cute, actually.

"I don't believe we've done any threads together, but I know I've seen you around, right?"

Joe left his hotel, determined not to spend anymore money than necessary, which meant no cab rides if he could avoid it. It did mean he'd be a little late to the conference, but he'd have a few days, something told him an hour late wouldn't make that big a difference. He'd spent the last thirty minutes trying to decide on something to wear, an issue he rarely ever had. He'd settled on going casual, cargo shorts, his skate shoes and a long sleeve button up thrown over a worn Black Star t-shirt and a volcom cap covering his mussed hair. He was most comfortable in situations where he could be himself and dressing in clothes he wasn't comfortable wasn't exactly something he was interested in.

He pulled his headphones over his ears and slung his backpack across his back as he swept out of the hotel, checking his pocket to make sure he had his invitation. He had gotten his early and had spent a long time trying to decide if he'd be able to make it, money was a little tight, but he figured he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he missed this event. So he'd hitch hiked his way across two states to make it. His Creative Zen blazed in his ear as he pulled the door open, his mouth following open at the number of people there. Jesus... he knew Lit was a big site, but he had no idea there would this many people. He checked in, taking a name tag and cringing as he wrote his handle on it "Gagonthis.... Yeah that was a great idea registering while drunk..." He sighed and gave a small oh well shrug before slapping it to his left breast. He walked into the main room, gawking at all the sights. Wow.... just wow. The invite had said it be completely uncensored, but he'd expected a few naked old dudes wandering around, not this. Fucking, everywhere. Joe tried to avert his eyes, but everywhere he could avert there was something else crazy to see. A drink would go a long way to making this a bit easier to handle... he just hoped the booze wasn't too expensive he thought as he made his way over, looking for name tags he recognized.

Britwitch decided that this was definitely one of the most surreal places she had ever been. Not only did she feel thoroughly out of place as the mass of American accents washed over her, she also felt rather self conscious whilst also feeling oddly excited. It was a strange blend.

She decided a drink might alleviate the worries in her mind and headed for the bar. Which was more than a little busy. Britwitch edged her way towards the bar, weaving through bodies and hands and glasses, sighing with a small measure of relief when she was able to lean across the bar and order.
"Rum and coke, please...," She ordered with a bright smile, her British tones seeming more noticable now than they ever had before, nodding to the bartender when he asked if she wanted ice.

While she waited for her drink Britwitch glanced around, there were couples (and threesomes and foursomes) hooking up all around her. People will wildly varied appearances, some finding people similar to themselves, others apparently seeking the complete opposite. Oh well, as they say, different strokes for different folks.

She took her drink and paid, sipping the cool beverage as she turned to cast her eyes over the crowd before her. Wondering if there was anyone she knew, anyone she'd like to know...or anyone who might want to get to know her.

Remec had not gotten very far, though, as the crowd had closed up once more. He shook his head a little and smiled to the woman who had come to the bar as he was leaving it, gotten her drink, and then turned like he had to ponder what to do next.

"Wow," he said, "this is crazier than I expected. Are you with the convention?" He glanced down to read her name and squinted slightly. I am so overdue at the eye doctor. "Does that say Britwitch? From the SRP?"

He smiled and offered her a hand.

"Hi, I'm Remec. Or Sean, I still answer my given name," he said with a laugh.