In all of his time in his current situation, he's come across exactly one downside to only looking human but not actually being human: Most of their vices don't really do for him what he wants them to do. Not without some considerable effort. Considering the guest list for this particular party, he has to assume that the bar and the alcohol that it's stocked with are for little more than show. A party just doesn't seem like a party without alcohol and the like. Plus the fact that it's all expensive alcohol doesn't go unnoticed. As if the house and everything else aren't already a show of the host's wealth. Of course there's also probably a small handful of attendees who have a lower tolerance for these sorts of things.
Not that any of that stops Three from already being three bottles deep into the incubus' pricey liquor.
Three has become a familiar face at parties, both human and monster alike. If he hears even a whisper on the air of such a thing, he'll show up, invited or not. If he's going to self-destruct, he's going to have fun doing it, at least. This one, though, he actually received an invitation for. An invitation with a name he no longer associates with because it's a name that doesn't belong to him, alone. It almost became the one party he turned down. Almost.
He showed up to the party wearing a very eye-catching shiny gold tailored suit with a leopard print on both of the jacket and pants. Beneath that is a simple black dress shirt with almost half the buttons undone. One might guess that he's looking for attention and given that quiet, down time gives him a chance to dwell on his solitude, one might just be right. Snatching the bottle out of the bartender's hand instead of allowing him to pour another drink, Three starts to drift from conversation to conversation, group to group, though he'll move on quickly if it doesn't seem like they'll give him what he's looking for. Fun, attention, distractions, a pain and suffering unlike that which he usually feels.
And if he can't find a conversation or group of people he likes, he'll pick a relatively clear spot to dance, and try to get those around him to dance along with him. It's a party!
Three
Not that any of that stops Three from already being three bottles deep into the incubus' pricey liquor.
Three has become a familiar face at parties, both human and monster alike. If he hears even a whisper on the air of such a thing, he'll show up, invited or not. If he's going to self-destruct, he's going to have fun doing it, at least. This one, though, he actually received an invitation for. An invitation with a name he no longer associates with because it's a name that doesn't belong to him, alone. It almost became the one party he turned down. Almost.
He showed up to the party wearing a very eye-catching shiny gold tailored suit with a leopard print on both of the jacket and pants. Beneath that is a simple black dress shirt with almost half the buttons undone. One might guess that he's looking for attention and given that quiet, down time gives him a chance to dwell on his solitude, one might just be right. Snatching the bottle out of the bartender's hand instead of allowing him to pour another drink, Three starts to drift from conversation to conversation, group to group, though he'll move on quickly if it doesn't seem like they'll give him what he's looking for. Fun, attention, distractions, a pain and suffering unlike that which he usually feels.
And if he can't find a conversation or group of people he likes, he'll pick a relatively clear spot to dance, and try to get those around him to dance along with him. It's a party!