[sub][h3][center]Archie[/center][/h3][/sub][hr]
[i]"Is you hand, uh, better?"[/i]

Archie felt heat rush to his face, but at least he wasn't alone he thought idly. An idea popped into his head at her question, however, this time, his stomach knotted up, and he's one-hundred percent sure that he stopped breathing. Blushing even more at a small, absentminded scheme in his head, Archie swallowed his pride and embarrassment, leaned over and summoned every once of charisma and suaveness that he could. He took her hand in his own somewhat burnt one, not bothering with the pain. It didn't seem important right now.

"Yeah," he began, his lips curling up into an awkward, lopsided, but incredibly Archie smile for Natalie's benefit. "It is now."

[hr]

A few more days passed in relative peace. School chugged along, power training occurred on the regularly, and no extraordinary circumstances arose that seemed to require security's [i]full[/i] attention. But despite the relative peace, it was very obvious that all factions of The Promise, security, faculty, and occupants alike, were gearing up for something. That something being the station wide Homecoming dance. Sold as an excuse for the students to burn off all their pent up worries and fears for a night of laughter and party.

As with any large scale party, there was alcohol, and even substances if you knew where to find them. While the later was highly regulated, the former was much more difficult to enforce. The Promise took a worldwide audience and operated under the jurisdiction of international waters. For the most part, the age at which alcohol was allowed for purchase was eighteen, but several other countries only required a drinking age of seventeen to sixteen. All it took was flashing state ID to purchase below the standard age, although it wasn't like there was a shortage of student of age to begin with either. The atmosphere of the station was thick with a whole concoction of emotions. Romance, heartbreak, anxiety, courage, and the smell of teen spirit seemed to give the very air its own personality. As if the station was in the eye of a hurricane, or in the calm just before a storm.

Night was falling, and in the distance the early festivities are already beginning. While the school prepares its gymnasium, the campgrounds are creating bonfires, the restaurants and food trucks are open late, and the alleys are making deals. The whole station was coming alive, given a second wind of celebratory spirit when it normally would have long since fallen quiet until morning.

[hr]


Archie's not drunk. He's been pacing himself, being careful in his pregaming. He knows what happens when he drinks too much—-it's happened at least four times before, and he's determined to put a stop to it and prove to himself that he has at least a semblance of self-control left in his body. That and with his recent condition, he wasn’t sure a few drinks too many simply was worth the risk of Hyde coming out to play.

For the first time in a month, everyone's in high spirits. Everyone seemed to have a reason to celebrate, either in memory of a friend, surviving a brush with death themselves, high grades, graduation, or the upcoming holidays. A few weeks from now, many of the people he had met in his power class would be walking across a stage with a diploma in hand and either catching a ride back to Earth for the first time in what was likely their entire adult lives or moving forward to pursue higher education through The Promise. So, right. Being careful. Take a few shots of alcohol and down a half glass of water. Archie mostly falls into the category of a Social Drinker—-only really drinking when he's surrounded by others that are partaking in alcoholic beverages as well, but he was starting early tonight because he [i]needed[/i] the liquid courage for when he goes to pick Natalie up. 


With a sigh of resignation, Archie sets his half-full cup on his desk. He's almost positive that he’ll find a way to knock it over in like, two minutes, but he can't say that he cares. Archie hates that he goes to this extreme every time he drinks; the alcohol feels good when it blurs his mind just enough to forget all of his predicaments, but feels not as good when he drinks enough to make himself sad.

Archie stood up to dress himself for the evening. He wanted to look presentable, but not so much so that he would ruin his clothing if he and Natalie found their way into one of the campground parties that Eli had mentioned. He slid on a pair of dark blue jeans, but the less worn ones that he normally kept on himself, and tossed a pair of black dress shoes on. He put a black dress shirt on. He had purchased it pretty recently, it had been his size when he bought it but now it hugged his body more than most clothes did after he had washed it with warm water instead of cold. Archie wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing yet. He fiddled with the buttons on the way up to his collar, giving himself funny looks into his mirror as he dressed himself.

[i]Go for it.[/i]

A smokey smirk grew on his features, and he left the top two buttons undone- exposing his neck and collarbone. He feels confident now, and a part of him laughs at how quickly he can go from a cool to fool. He moves back to his chair and falls a little while he tries to sit down, after all, he's uncoordinated when sober and nearly dysfunctional when drunk. He pulls out his phone, clicks on the all to familiar conversation thread, and attempts to send a 'Hi'. It looks more like a shrimp emoji. Archie's tired.

Regardless, the message buzzes through. He squints a little in an attempt to follow up.
[quote]Archie: I KNOW that partie s arnet yor thing but
Archie: i’ll be heading ovcer soon[/quote]



A thought comes to him then, and Archie just knows it's a brilliant idea.


[quote]Archie: and partys arent you4e thibg , but your my thing[/quote]


"Smooth," he congratulates himself out loud. "Good, good reply." He reaches for the glass of water he had placed next to his drink and downs it. He didn’t want to be stupid when he met her. Sure, the alcohol wasn’t helping- but Natalie had found out fairly quickly that his fat fingers regularly made spelling errors. Although, perhaps not to this degree yet. He heads for the door to go and pick her up- fortunately and unfortunately, she was a problem student like him. This meant she lived in the women’s wing of his dorm facility so it wasn’t like he had to go far. It was nice in a way, having her so close. As he opens the door to head to hear dorm he takes an extra moment to stare at the text thread before shrugging and pocketing his phone. If anything could sum up his feelings, it's his (not-so) artfully done keysmashing.