[center][h3] [/h3][/center][h3][hr][color=#38547C]Keaton Plasse[/color][/h3][hr]
While Keaton hadn’t thought much of Lynn’s texts, Lynn’s arrival brought them back to mind, especially the word choice in the few lines Keaton had received. She’d assumed that Lynn’s good mood was a result of her looking forward to the night, but suddenly Keaton wasn’t so sure. Rather than looking wary or annoyed upon arrival, Lynn was actively attracting people to her, freely giving up the tequila she’d brought. If Keaton could count on one thing, it was Lynn being possessive over her food, but here Lynn was, being every bit the altruistic party soul. And she looked happy—or, at least, happier than she usually was. Why? Had something happened? A promotion at work? No, but something had happened, something that made Lynn happy enough to want to let completely loose for a night. 

Though Keaton was all grins as she shouted a ‘hey’ at Lynn and walked over with Eli, she watched the shorter girl carefully, looking for tells as to what had inspired her good mood. Asking seemed like a bad idea, given how easily Lynn tended to sour up, and Keaton didn’t want to spoil the mood. Whatever it was, Keaton was glad it got Lynn out here. 

“These are going to go quick,” she said, admiring the tequila as Eli lead them toward the drinks. “Maybe I should have brought something too. But I figured—”

Cut off as Amelia approached, Keaton opened her mouth to greet the teleporter, only to stop when Amelia’s eyes paused on Lynn. While she did a good job of hiding her nervousness, Keaton didn’t need many tells to start deducing causes and effects, and people being nervous around Lynn was nothing new. Why Amelia might be nervous about Lynn was pretty self-explanatory, though Keaton figured—knew—it wouldn’t matter much. Whatever it was that had Lynn in a partying mood would outweigh the blip Amelia made on her paranoia radar.

“Hey Amelia, it’s been a hot minute huh?” Keaton said, grinning. Then, turning to Lynn, she shrugged. “She texted me looking for a party, and I figured the more the merrier. Now, shots?”

Eli was returning, and Keaton didn’t want Amelia’s arrival to spoil Lynn’s mood. Sure Amelia wasn’t a model conspirator, holing up at the first sign of trouble and all, but to drink with? As long as she breathed and wasn’t an angry drunk, she was fine.

“Jello shots? Give my thanks to the chef,” Keaton said, grinning as Eli delivered the flimsy plastic canisters of multicolored gelatin. Four came her way, prompting her to briefly wonder how many shots she’d need to take. Rule of thumb said four to six, but that depended on the type of alcohol. Tequila, four. Jungle juice, sipped, varied. Jello shots? Also varied, but she’d know when she got a taste. Her power told her—a new realization, but one that made sense. Realizing that things she was good at intuiting were just things her power handled for her was a common occurrence these days, and she’d grown used to realizing that her power defined a good portion of her thoughts, skills, and person.

“Eli, Amelia, Amelia, Eli,” Keaton said, indicating each to the other. “And Lynn, did you wanna leave your tequila at the table or?” she asked, pointing out the picnic table blanketed by bottles of every shape and size. There was a few hundred dollars worth of liquor piled there, and Keaton had to briefly wonder whether Lynn was safe to be around drunk.