sanctuary holiday party

[mehanizovati]

Who: Anyone, open to all
What: Sanctuary's holiday party, low key since it's a hectic irl month. There will be a handwave thread for just that.
When: the last week of december
Where: sanctuary

Content Warnings: alcohol, others to be put in headers



Welcome to Sanctuary's attempt at a holiday party. It's open door, feel free to have heard about from word of mouth, a friend, just walking by and being curious.

It's also half planned by a man who doesn't know the first thing about any winter holidays, so that will probably be fine.


The kitchen is the drop off area for people who brought food. It's also open for people who want to prepare something themselves. The general instruction for anyone who asked what to bring was nostalgic food, something from their world, something from their preferred holiday this time of year. Because of that the selection is a bit wacky, but a lot of the staples are there.

Like cookies of various sorts, hot chocolate, a big bowl of some spiked drink that people are hopefully guarding from the wayward youth. Feel free to take a turn doing so or making it worse. Otherwise it's pretty much just a buffet of people moving in and out, taking a plate to wander.


Ugly sweaters are apparently a tradition so there's a pile of them in one of the rooms, brought by none other than Vi. Anyone is welcome to go and steal one, they're terrible. Imagine what Trench thrift stores would have in terms of ugly holiday sweaters and despair.

Music wafts through the rooms as well, again a weird combination of whatever holiday music seemed appropriate. The central room to the party has a tree, only it's made of metal and looks more on the menacing side than festive. Presents can be placed under there, ones that will be sent to Koz Orphanage for their own celebrations.

Speaking of there's a table for making decorations. Craft stuff, glitter and glue, origami and instructions on how to make stars and simple chains. It's clearly meant more for the Koz kids when they visit but no one's going to stop anyone from unleashing their muse over here. In fact it's encouraged to hang the decorations up when done wherever you'd like, including the increasingly cluttered, dangerous metal tree.

It's more than likely mistletoe ended up tacked up somewhere. Hey, at least it's not Trench bullshit magic mistletoe, it can be easily ignored.


Outside lights are strung up everywhere, the snow is fresh and it's a lot quieter in general. Not a bad place to wander, or to start hurling snow at people so it's immediately less quiet.

Comments

[poorlittlesange]

[as soon as mike rounds his arms to begin that bow, jin guangyao sweeps forward and extends both hands out to catch his friend's forearms before he can lower himself. (in an instant he is taken back to every moment lan xichen ever did this for him, too; finally, he understands his er-ge's impulse more sincerely.)]

Xiansheng, there is no need. [and no need, either, to mask his appreciation for the gesture, or his affection for the one offering it. evidently, mike has been brought into a level of confidence with jin guangyao where such demonstrations aren't necessary. at least, not under these circumstances. the rules are weird, just roll with it. he releases mike's arms, and then,]

Requests? For a story? [a short, self-effacing laugh, and he shakes his head.] Oh, I don't think I know any that would be entertaining for older children. My son is, [a very, very brief pause, but then he keeps going and does not lose his smile,] he is too young to understand much of what is said to him.

[stayscared]

[the rules in trench are weird, so what's one more weird rule? the sudden sweep catches him off guard, though, and he looks down at jin guangyao with a confused expression until the other man speaks. maybe they're past bowing? or maybe they're past bowing ...at parties.

why stress over that when he doesn't have to? there will be plenty of things to worry about later (it's trench, it's scheduled), so he'll just lower his hands after one last raise in an 'i give up' gesture.

that's a pause. he's not sure what lies behind it, but it's there, and if he doesn't know everything, he knows a little, knows what he saw in a memory. and if that memory causes the spectre of a scowl to creep into his expression that's no fault of yours or your son's, friend.

sensible bethany isn't the only ghost at the party. it seems the ghosts of fathers past have shown up uninvited. of course. who would invite them at all? well, they can unceremoniously be shown the door, do not collect a sweater on the way out, just a lump of coal to shove where the sun doesn't shine. or somewhere more painful.]

What about you, then? Guess I'll have to hunt something down that I haven't read before, something for a slightly older, more discriminating audience who has about a zero percent chance to crunch during a chapter.

Pull up a [those chairs are a bit small.] ...beanbag, or we can take a turn about the room, or out of the room, if you want. [he is referencing crusty period novels now] In case you don't know, you should probably avoid that [a small point at the mistletoe] unless a special someone shows up.

[said very unpointedly, casual, not even a thought going into that.]

[poorlittlesange]

[what's the idiom--let sleeping ghosts lie? no, that's not it. give him time, he'll figure it out. and in the meantime, he is only too willing to adjust to the subject pivot--to other stories, to odd-looking bags of beans designed for sitting (???), to taking a turn about the room.

and it seems he's on the cusp of agreeably remarking upon that last option, right before that little remark about the mistletoe, and a 'special someone,' and jin guangyao has now been in trench long enough to understand precisely what is being implied here. (and who it is being implied about, of course.)

he looks at mike with very large, very wide eyes. then, with two extremely bright pink spots of colour rising on his cheeks, he drops his eyes and purses his lips to stop himself from smiling nervously.]

This one doesn't know what--[no, stop that, this is a bad lie even for you, jin guangyao. instead he exhales and fiddles with an errant wrinkle in his sleeve, and asks quietly, like he is hoping not to be overheard,] ...How did you know?

[stayscared]

[that could be an idiom. might even be just the one. again: tomayto, tomahto.

some of the chairs are odd, admittedly. is there one that looks like a snail? absolutely. it's a crowd favorite.

there's a pause before the surprise registers on mike's face - his own surprise at just how surprised his friend seems (a deer in headlights, that look) at what was something he thought was ...obvious. it had been a given, right? but between the blush, the suppression of a reflexive smile, and the look down?

well, shit.

now it's time for mike's face to heat up a little - courtesy of secondhand embarrassment that he just caused. what he's not going to do is make a joke. it's one thing if it's at his own expense, but this? this needs a bit of sensitivity, he thinks.

(again: well, shit.)

he presses his own lips together (what an exercise in mirroring, here) as the start of the denial - yeah, it's a bad lie - but it's not exactly funny, and he doesn't want to risk an accidental smile. when that last part comes, he lowers his voice a bit - a casual, private conversation level, nothing wrong with what they're saying - he's just pretty sure that jin guangyao does not want this broadcasted to ...well, probably anyone, but that cat's out of the bag and he is asking.]

Mostly? It's the way you look at each other. I'd see your eyes light up and think, damn, my wife used to look at me like that.

I thought you were both just being very ...um, formal, very courtly about it.

[the "and there's nothing wrong with that" is implied.]

[poorlittlesange]

[jin guangyao had been prepared for a spike of terror at having this precious, private thing cradled between himself and lan xichen seen for what it is by the outside world, but the terror doesn't come. perhaps that's because of how mike is looking at him now: gently, awkwardly, earnestly--but more than that, with the kind of friendly interest in his happiness that, in truth, jin guangyao had never received from anyone else in the cultivation world. (anyone else beyond lan xichen, of course, but as he is the subject of this conversation, his dear er-ge doesn't count this time.)

he lets out a little breath of restrained laughter and looks aside, pursing his lips.] I should like to hear about Mike-xiansheng's wife sometime, if he wishes to discuss her. She was a musician, too, you said.

[but there's a touch of melancholy when he looks back to mike again, even though he's smiling. softly, he repeats words he knows he's said to mike in the past, though they land differently now, of course.] Er-ge is... To me, he is the very best of men. He always will be.

[then, more quietly, soberly,] But I made a vow before heaven and earth. Even if--

[he closes his eyes and shakes his head once. that's the extent he seems capable of discussing It here. when he opens his eyes again, he regards the mistletoe with a wistful twist to his mouth.] ...It is a beautiful dream, xiansheng, and I like it very much, but that is all it can be. Er-ge understands.

[stayscared]

[mike's mouth twists in a bit of a contemplative frown at that mistletoe. he's grateful it's there for those who might make good (or humorous) use of it, but he'd also like to give it the finger, and so he does - an understated gesture for once - but it funnels some of his own disappointment. but that is all that it can be is a line straight out of a sadsack romance story, starcrossed lovers and all that - but there's no denying that jin guangyao means what he's saying, and who is like to argue about the status of someone else's relatio---

---well, there was a time he might have (would have) argued. but he is not drunk, and the other person in this equation hasn't expressed any wish for him to push his opinion further.]

Yeah. Sure. Maybe on one of the days I remember more than less. She was the best, too. Better than I deserved, in the end. It's weird how some things work out.

[let that last sentence just hang in the air, friend.]

Some people say this is a land of dreams, too. Now, maybe not all of them beautiful, but if there's enough room for all this nightmare fuel, I think there could be a few more slots open for the good kind.

Ah, I see one opening up now. Well, isn't that something.

[he leans in and points toward a window where obvious sounds of a snow fight emanate. it's a hilarious shitshow of omens vs. sleepers, with a few surprise side-switches for their viewing entertainment. if they venture out they might get caught in the crossfire. or maybe not.]