[ Of all the strange places she’s woken up in, this is…new. And potentially alarming. Not the robe or her nudity – frankly she just Does Not Care about the tiddy situation right now – moreso how on earth she managed to get herself into a car she decidedly doesn’t own with a person she’s never seen before. One that she's promptly going to pat on the cheek a couple times in the hopes she can jostle them awake. ]

Hey. Hey, you.

[ Pat pat pat. A pretty polite wakeup call, all things considered. On the downside, if her carmate doesn’t start showing signs of stirring, she’s not above just grabbing a handful of ice from the champagne bucket and stuffing it into their robe/clothing/etc as some friendly 'encouragement'. Rude? Maybe. Effective? Definitely. Can't argue with results. ]

C’mon, sleepyhead. Don't make me go for the whole ice bucket next.

Uh... guys? I’m going to save you some time and disappointment here… that’s not going to fit. Sorry.

[ For someone getting dragged across from one clothing rack to the other with about as much enthusiasm as a sleep-deprived snail, Mayou’s being remarkably patient as she’s stuffed into increasingly flamboyant dresses by the enthusiastic staff. This is the reality of being vertically challenged – most clothing simply isn’t designed with her in mind, and she’s made her peace with that. ‘Cute in oversized clothes’ is a valid aesthetic choice when done well.
Operative words here being done well, which these dresses decidedly aren't.

At least she’s getting pretty comfy standing around in underwear while the next monstrosity of taffeta is pulled off the rack, because Mayou gives the nearest fellow arrival an exhausted, pleading look. ]

Back me up here. It’d just be easier to snip some off the bottom with scissors, right?

[ The moment one staff member explains the game to her with the phrase ‘Big Prizes’, she’s sold. Sure, this whole fever dream of a party is highly suspect, but she’s had a couple glasses of champagne to break the ice a bit. What’s the worst that could go wrong? It’s just dice. If nothing else, Mayou is dead set on getting her greedy little witch paws on some gaudy souvenir just to prove to herself this whole thing actually happened.

So whether she’s invited or not, she grabs a die for herself and makes a beeline straight to an available booth, dropping into the leather with a flushed cheeks and a slightly-too-confident smile. ]

Ready to play?

[ Pray for her. She has no idea what she’s getting herself into. ]

[ After the blur of gambling, booze, and terrible decisions, her whole body feels like one big bruise. How many drinks did she have? Did she ever bother counting? Truly, a mystery for the ages… and not one she’s really counting on solving when her brain’s busy trying to dribble out of her ears.
She’s fully aware there’s another person in bed with her, but quite frankly, she’s got zero compunctions about stuffing her face in the nearest available surface that’s a)warm and b)somewhat soft. Lord does being awake sound like the worst idea of all time. Hard fuckin' pass, thanks. Mayou's bedmate is just gonna have to deal with her using them like a body pillow and accept that's their lot in life now.
Tl;dr... congratulations on getting your own personal koala! Mayou isn’t showing any signs of letting go until her splitting headache abates... but you didn't have anywhere important to be, right? ]

[ Have a hankering for another prompt? Maybe you’ve got your own cooked up? No problem! Slap that sucker down and let’s see how things play out. Feel free to DM this account or hit me up at macabreclamor if you have questions!
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