IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY. ♥︎ OFFICE PARTY HUMAN AU

[DOEBLAZE]

She should have known it was a mistake to let Nikolai buy the banner.

So what if we don't get along? she'd ( foolishly ) thought to herself upon her return to the unofficial office party - planning committee after her ( very, some would say too ) long absence. She and Nikolai had never gotten along, not when she was Blaise's secretary ( oh, that thought stung ) or when she had been in middle management working with the aggravation himself. And yet . . . for some reason . . . they had ended up with the unenviable job of planning the office parties. And so she'd stupidly thought, I can give him the benefit of the doubt, presuming that the man could be trusted to buy one singular banner, it's just a banner.

It was not, in, fact just a banner.

" ' It is your birthday? ' " Bobbie deadpans, pinching the bridge of her nose just below the probably - unprofessional - but - nobody's - said - anything piercing. The woman allows herself a moment to shut her eye and mutter some definitely unprofessional things into the palm of her hand before she sighs, ruffles her cropped hair, and dumps her parka in one of the many faded office chairs she'd tried to cheer up for the party—whose birthday even was it, again?

" You couldn't have put, I don't know, an exclamation point? At least? " she sighs, slumping herself down in one of the slightly busted chairs a moment later. The rest of the room was ( in her opinion, being its executor ) appropriately decorated . . . except for the huge, black - and - white, no - nonsense banner occupying pride of place: IT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY. Your children need an education, Bobbie, no, you cannot quit your job, she reminds herself, glaring up at Nikolai.

Even as the rest of the office starts to trickle in for the much - longed - for break of the party, she's still complaining at her co - planner, snapping, " I am never letting you buy . . . anything for the parties again. Like, ever. "

// This is what human!Bobbie looks like for anyone curious/wanting a reference!

" speech "

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[Nightcrawler]

Kurt isn't sure he'll ever get used to working in an office, but he had put himself in this position - it had been, of course, his grand idea to experience something new outside of the performing arts, and so he'd landed himself a job as a desk jockey, typing up emails and printing out papers, part-time at least. He knew that there were plenty of his coworkers that surely passionate about their jobs here, and he by no means wanted to make fun of their toils; hell, he couldn't say he hadn't considered joining the force full-time.

"A declaration without need for raising one's voice," Kurt offers as he appears in the vicinity, throwing a charming smile in both Nikolai and Bobbie's direction. "For the casual birthday person." The last thing anybody should be doing on somebody's birthday is getting into a tat over the decor, and Kurt hopes that his good humored entrance to the party will take the edge off of Bobbie's worries. He can't help but wonder, though-

"It is, ah, one of your birthdays?"

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• !
  

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• KURT ✩ daylight warrior of skyclan, twenty-eight moons
  → speaks with a German accent.
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.
  

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[Florabreeze]

Working in the office was a nice change of pace from the usual life of odd jobs that Flora surrounded herself with. While she had found her time freelancing every job under the sun a lot more thrilling it had become unsustainable for herself and her daughter. There had been concerns that things would be dull here, the uniform policy was rather drab and it wasn’t a good sign. However, she was happily mistaken, there was no shortage of some form of drama. Who knew that something as boring as an office job would be home to so many interesting colleagues, she had even developed a passion for people watching all things while working here.

At the time she had thought about volunteering to help out with the office planning but had ultimately decided against it. It turns out maybe she should have volunteered after all, it could have given Bobbie someone else to assign buying a banner instead of Nikolai. Ah well, what’s done is done and she was more than happy to come in and sit down to watch everything unfold, a coffee in hand that was once hot had long gone cold. The victim of neglect in favour of something far more entertaining. “I think it’s fun, a bit of a statement piece!” She weighed in cheerily, raising the cup to her lips only to grimace as she was reminded that it was in fact cold.

Kurt raised a good point, who’s birthday was it anyways. She leaned back on her chair and glanced around the rest of the office space. No one was obviously screaming hey! It’s my birthday! Then again, unless someone was wearing one of those obnoxiously bright birthday badges then how would she know? “Did you print this yourself, Nikolai? If not, I need to know who even sells banners like this.” She chuckled as she spoke, already planning out her daughter's next birthday party. Surely she would get a kick out of a banner like this.

‎‎ ‎From far away 𖧧 Stays for a day ‎

• 
  
•  
• 
  SkyClan Daylight Warrior⏐ She / Her ⏐ Info
  ❥ A large black tabby maine coon with low white and bright green eyes, always wearing her mushroom print collar if she can.
  ❥ 33 moons old { Ages realistically on the 12th per month }
  ❥ Mentored by Sorrelsong
  ❥ “Speech”, thoughts, attacking
  ❥ Penned by Juice ⏐ouijeejuice on discord {open to being dmed for plots}

​

 

[CHRYSALISWING]

There were many things that Chris Guevarra could go without. Office parties must have been at the top of the list, as he was finding out just now.

Seriously...? 'It is your birthday?' Who the hell would celebrate in the office? DIsdainful thoughts swirled around the man's head as he walked into the office, as any expectations he happened to have had fallen like a deflated balloon, ungraceful and pathetic as it lie on the ground. Rough-hewn right palm gripped the plastic cup that held his hot coffee (intermingled with a shot of Bailey's, of course), fidgeting with his drink in one hand. With his other palm, he held his face in it in exasperation, fingers pushing into his angular temples. He certainly hadn't anticipated 'getting your life back together in your 20s' to look anything like this, though it was an oddly mawkish sentiment that he had been tempted to guffaw at, as though he were staring at a drippy, leaking building. Spending his teenaged years as a truant and a punk was fun, in the barest sense of the word, but he knew such a life would never be sustainable in the long-term. Settling down, he had spent the past few years grooming himself and making himself seem presentable, trimming tousled hair and hiding away his familiar, oversized jean-jacket. Now, he wore the business' uniform, complete with a reddish tie, but even then could he see the faults hidden along the world of the 'civilized.' The people of the workforce were just as troubled and terrible as him at his worst, he surmised. "Happy birthday, I guess." Chris muttered without a hint of the cheeriness that entailed that sort of statement, mismatched eyes glancing around for any sort of escape from this awkward situation, like some food to eat or a window to jump out of.

𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 ⚠︎ 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘦

• OOC:
  
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• 

  —— CHRYSALISWING / He/They / 24 Moons
  —— Warrior of Skyclan / Mentoring n/a
  —— A long-haired tomcat with chimaeric patterning. His left side is fully black and his right side is black splotched with sunset-orange. He has complete heterochromia, with his right eye being a bright green and his left eye being a glowering yellow.
  —— Abrasive, temperamental, and critical. Approach at your own risk and engage at your own cost. Despite this, he is a hard worker and quick to call out what he finds wrong.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

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[Chickbloom]

"Oh god, whose birthday is it?"

That was the first thought which passed through a perpetually-anxious head as Eddie quietly shuffled into the room, squirrely eyes even more panicked than usual. One of the younger members of the office, bravely (well, perhaps not bravely) striking out to make his way in the world, Edward treated his position with much more gravitas than his coworkers - which only served to add to his anxiety.

A sweat-slicked palm passed over platinum-blond curly hair, ruffling it as if the act would shake loose the thoughts he needed to navigate the situation. "Maybe it's the boss's birthday. Maybe I'll get fired for forgetting! I'll have to go back to mom and dad if that happens, but I-" The freight train between his ears was briefly stopped as the skittish boy finally took in his surroundings, sighing with something resembling relief as he realized the confusion wasn't limited to just him. "I-I think it's - y'know - it's s-smart. it - um - it gets to the p-point." Whether or not the whelp was a kiss-ass or just wanted people to think he was some deep thinker was up for debate, but it was evident to anyone listening that Eddie was pulling this analysis out of nowhere. no matter the reason, all the coward wondered was how long it would be before he was allowed to sequester himself in his cubicle again. ​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

Konnie, usually, would not be caught dead at a party. The manager's reputation was that of a no-nonsense, hard worker, one who did their job to an almost unhealthy efficiency but did not find time to make many friends within the office. Despite the casualness of blue jeans and a dark parka, the white-haired adult was tucked in the corner of the room on a chair dragged from the party area. A laptop sat atop his thighs, plugged into seemingly the only working outlet in the whole forsaken building. As his reading glasses began to slide down his nose, Konstantin looked over them at his co-workers, debating the banner that his co-manager had brought for them. 'At least he got something and didn't run off with company money.' It was a small victory, so small that the athletic man didn't think it was worth mentioning. "It's also grammatically correct, that makes it better than last year's banner," Konstantin added on in deadpan, tap-tapping away at his keyboard. If he didn't get any work done today, than no one would - for someone who lived and breathed the company, that would simply not do.
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[DAWNGLARE]

Settled between the intersection of drab and drabber is Valentine, back to the wall with fingers idly tapping at his phone. It wasn't exciting, really. Not the sort of occassion that had him absorbed in petty, typed comments, or caught up in identifying the stray wrist in a photo... No, he is pitifully bored, swiping just to swipe. Or rather... because if he stopped, he would have to make an appearence at the pathetic excuse for a "party." Or worse, do his job.

A breathy sigh at the lips laments his situation, caught between two extremes of absolute depravity. Bodies continue to pass him by, none of them absolutely buzzing with excitement at the prospect of store - bought cookies or anything adjacent. His gaze flickers upward with each one. Kurt, Flora, Chris, Eddie... All names that he had to learn against any will of his own. A blue gaze falls back to his phone. Nothing, nothing... maybe he should tag a random brand in a reply...

But... oh dear, it'd only be a matter of time before someone says something to him. Only one person had the authority to, really— he simply refused to humor the blatant display of nepotism that's recently wormed her way into their ranks— but that one is enough of an annoyance to peel himself from his wall, cracking his back in a display of age that no soul would bear witness to. And were he wrong to think this, perhaps said soul would suddenly find some more vacation days on their plate...

...No, less vacation days. They would fight harder to maintain status quo, wouldn't they?

The click of heels announces his solemn walk to the end of the hallway. He couldn't stand to look even the slightest bit enticed by the door clad in sagging, sad streamers and dressed with squealing hinges. Slightly ajar, notes of confusion, fear, and hopelessness drift from it unhindered. It's a defense mechanism, really, that sends his hand flinching away from the door's handle as if burned.

As he listens more closesly, though... he senses a common theme amongst the murmuring voices. Maybe there was something he could do... A smile crawls its way onto his face, close - lipped and pressing wide eyes into crescents.

He delays his grand entrance then on a whim, suddenly backtracking, and then he calls, " Why, yes! It is my birthday. How kind of you to remember ♪ " His voice drifts across the hallway in sickly - sweet tones. He's always been rather blessed with the gift of projection... " I know these things can be a little drab, but oh, I do hope they put a bit more thought into mine... Not the same old decorations, surely? They'll have my favorite food, surely...? " The click of heels again, with purpose, this time. " Oh, not only is it my birthday... it's also the ten year anniversary of my time at the company! Yes, really! Aww, thank you, dear! " It's only been eight, really, but most of them of them wouldn't know that.

He waves goodbye to his imaginary lower than low subordinate and then continues his leisurely gait, suddenly silent in a bid to catch any conversation amongst the partygoers. Were they squirming in there? Oh, he hopes that they are.​