It was quite a wild party. As it was multi-fandom, that was to be expected, but still Ivan found himself scoffing at the sheer foolishness of certain drunken partiers. He took another swig from his flask and shook his head, wondering how anyone could defile such a delicious drink with orange juice or coke.

A blonde head in the corner of the club caught his eye. He'd never been one for wild parties, preferring a night spent drinking alone or with a single companion. When he was forced into a situation like this, he sought her out. Roxy Lalonde.

The curvaceous blonde sipped something from a red solo cup, probably a mix of anything that was available and alcoholic. She smiled a lopsided smile and patted the chair next to her, offering him a sip of her concoction. He waved it off with his flask, showing her that he'd brought his own drink and would most certainly not be accepting any of her brew. Roxy shrugged. "suit yourself," she slurred slightly. Ivan estimated that she'd been there for at least a couple of hours, putting her at about 5-6 drinks. his decision had been wise after all; at this point who knew what she'd decided to add to her drink. By leaning over slightly he could see something floating in the brownish liquid and he shuddered a bit. He glanced down to see Roxy gazing up at him, eyes half-lidded and dull. She grinned in a predatory manner before grabbing his scarf and pulling him into her, mashing their lips together feverishly. Ivan could taste strawberries, and a thought played at the back of his mind- that thing in Roxy's drink had been a bloated, alcohol-logged strawberry. he accepted the sloppy kiss but did not return it, his sense still about him enough to realise that what he and Roxy had was a dysfuctional relationship, probably to the point of being unhealthy. After a couple minutes more of Roxy's feirce ministrations, he began to feel slightly numb and he might have kissed back.

When their burning lips parted, both were short of breath, though neither one would let it show. Roxy's eyes had regained a bit of their mischevious glint and Ivan felt a small tug at his stomach, not quite butterflies, but something close. Roxy and Ivan had once agreed that people were not themselves when drunk, so they probably would not get along unless they were intoxicated. This, however, felt to Ivan completely untrue. If they ever had the fortune to meet when sober, he believed himself capable of falling for a girl like her.