Birthday Party

[peripheries]

Who: Paul Atreides and all his CR
What: Throwing everyone’s favorite Duke a surprise birthday party
When: Forwarded dated to April 1st
Where: Bone House in Gaze

Content Warnings: Drinking, underage drinking, drugs (both fictional and not), drawings of space worms, skeletons, will add further warnings if necessary



When you arrive at the house in Gaze, (affectionately known as Bone House), a skeleton will open the door and offer to take your coat if you have one. No need to take your shoes off or anything!

The large house has been decorated with black streamers and confetti. In the entryway and hung on the railing to the second floor that overlooks the entrance to the great room are large banners that say “HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAUL” (though one looks like it used to say “Jaune” but was just painted over? Whatever).

In the Living Room, there is a large board and various colored markers for people to write messages to the birthday boy. There is also a table full of bottled water and various couches, chairs, and beanbags to collapse into if the party gets to be too much and one needs a quiet place to rest or a place to chill if you’ve imbibed too much… well, whatever you had.

It is also where all the food and drinks are.

There’s an extremely large charcuterie board with the usual meats, cheeses, and olives as well as an extremely eccentric collection of snacks ranging from individual sized Cheez-it bags, to humungous bags of Doritos and salty chips, as well as nearly every kind of Oreo one can imagine.

There are also various cakes, all angel food. Some are misshapen, some have an attempt at being frosted with whipped cream and fruit, one even says “Happy Birthday Ka-” before that was hastily covered with a bunch of strawberries jammed really close together.

At the island, a skeleton is playing bartender. Surprisingly, it can seem to take and understand individual orders, but there’s always a constant flow of tequila shots being made and sent out to the great hall to be served by another skeleton.

And, no, of course it’s not going to check your age to see if you’re legal. It’s a skeleton. Why would it care?

The Great Hall is the center of activity and where everyone is encouraged to mingle and have fun. There is a skeleton on the grand piano in the corner gleefully playing piano covers of the hits from the Shrek Soundtrack with the occasional cover of “DaRude’s Sandstorm” when it has another one to help out.

In another corner, on huge piece of paper that spans nearly 6ft wide and 8ft tall is drawing of an Arrakis sandworm and it’s giant maw. The game is Pin the Tooth on the Sandworm and it’s… very easy… because the worm maw is most of the board. Even if the skeleton spins you as you’re blindfolded, it’s pretty hard to lose. If you manage to do it, which is likely, the skeleton running the game will award you a tequila shot! If you lose, the skeletons will award you a tequila shot (but it’s rail).

(It’s a drinking game, isn’t the point to drink?)

There’s also a table that has many candelabras on it, numbering up to seventeen. They’re still lit and burning even though there is a sign that says “make a wish!” even though it almost looks like a shrine for the dead.

…It’s maybe clear that the concept of “birthday candles” was greatly misunderstood.

There is also a skeleton dealing out small doses of “Spice”, a psychoactive drug straight outta the Duneverse. However, you must check in with this Skeleton to get a dose. There will be no “permanently melting your brain with ancestral memories” at this party!

Teacher’s/God’s/Jod’s/The Emperor Undying’s study, adjacent to the main hall, is closed and locked. Though, the lock is fairly easy to break if someone really wanted to get in. There’s not even skeletons guarding.

That said, many things are warded with eerie runes of blood and bone.

So, fuck around and find out.

The upstairs is generally off limits. Party goers can climb up the stairs, and it’s encouraged if they want to look over the Great Room from above, but all of the bedrooms are carefully guarded by more skeletons who will SCREAM VERY LOUDLY if you try to enter and will become hostile if done by force.

Of course, this won’t happen if you are with someone who lives in the house.

Enjoy the party! Mingle away!

((ooc: if you have any questions or anything, please hit me up at worldtype)) or via PM.))

Birthday Board | At the Party | The Morning After | IC Party Games | Spice Dealer

Comments

[asas]

[ lazarus will have to do his best with t-rex arms, because shoyo is rather insistent on crushing him! and lifting him up! off his feet! for a few seconds, all while his chuckles are muffled into a mess of fabric and hair, before propping him back down and releasing him. he's only had one tequila. maybe he's lacking just a bar of inhibition. he has to laugh again, even. he almost forgot that they were both some years over these hooligans! ]

I was saying bye to everyone up on the roof— I was just about to leave! [ they could walk together, now! it wasn't a problem! shoyo seems to be guiding them both away from the entrance and exit to do just that. ] M'glad you made it before I did!

[ now, he has more than enough reason to stay for just a little bit longer. ]

[hearthebell]

[L stiffens and startles when Shōyō just goes ahead and lifts his scrawny scarecrow body, laughing in the nervous manner of someone whose feet aren't currently on the ground. It's good to see his friend in such high spirits, and as usual, they are contagious. Just like that, L doesn't feel quite so much like an outsider at this party where almost everyone is both much younger and in a more mentally altered state than he is.]

You were leaving? Don't yet. I mean, only if it's not any trouble. I'm really glad you're here.

[asas]

I can’t leave now, [ and, in a teasing tone as he set his hand on the side of lazarus’ shoulder to give a light squeeze, ] you’ll look too invested in the kids snorting cinnamon.

[ red cocaine. spicy weed. same difference. either way, he’s not getting near that. ]

[hearthebell]

[L still hasn't decided whether he wants to try the spice; his risktaking nature is directly at odds with his sense of caution in this particular house. Maybe he has tried it already and has no idea; there are people here who seem more than happy to slip others a little dose of something if it will get them to loosen up a bit, and L has never had a natural knack for that inclination.

Maybe that's behind him reaching out to offer a reciprocal, if somewhat more awkward, motion, patting the side of Shoyo's head just above his ear. It's like a compromise between the top of his head and his cheek.]

Thank you for your sacrifice. I guess I owe you a game of volleyball at the next viable opportunity.

[asas]

[ heheh. shōyō smiles and feels burning beyond his throat and belly; his cheeks feel warm with a smile that completes it, reaching upward to eventually keep the patting hand cupped by his and weighing down.

it was quite the delightful rush, to keep hand contact for that long, and shōyō wonders how long it’ll be until he had to let go. ]

Want a drink, or something? I already had one, so, [ he rolls his shoulder, a brush of his fingers on fingers guiding lazarus’ hand down from his hair, ] m’sticking to juice.

[hearthebell]

[L doesn't seem like he's in any rush to escape the anchor. Shōyō has earned his right to touch him easily, and besides, he reads it as positive reinforcement that side-of-the-head-pats are desired highly and also pleasurable.]

I could... it wouldn't be my first of the evening, but I've been on guard for most of it. Now that you're here, I don't need to worry half as much about making sure I have my wits fully about me, right?

[He might mean it as a joke, but there's a slight strain around his eyes. He's been navigating this party as both more and less than a typical guest, and it shows, just a bit.]

[asas]

[ now why would someone look and be in guard at a party? discomfort in crowded places, like kenma or sakusa? both for different reasons, sakusa was a germ freak and kenma was more introverted.

lazarus’ hand may not be in shōyō’s hair anymore, but the athlete still holds his fingers in his, his smile straining . . . just a little. ]

Is someone bothering you?

[ he’s not joking! but he’s trying not to make it show too much. ]

[hearthebell]

[No one is bothering L; not directly, at least. He's the one with sticky fingers and long-practiced suspicion that makes him determined to expose the Emperor, to Paul and all of those willing to call him teacher, captain, God.

Not that he can say any of this to Shōyō. Would it be fair to burden him? Would he (and L feels a twinge to consider it) even understand?]

No; I'm just the sort of person that can make attending a party for my friend look difficult. The crowds and noise get to me after a time, and I never know if drinking makes it better or worse. This probably sounds funny to you, it's not exactly Mardi Gras.

[asas]

Eh . . . It's not funny.

[ just because he enjoys parties doesn't mean it was strange when others feel some ways misplaced. their hands end up falling naturally as shoyo's does, gently to his side and careful to part down to the fingertips. ]

I have a friend who gets real uncomfortable with a lot of people around, back home— he was my sponsor for a while. [ kenma was nervous about getting noticed, didn't do too well with talking and interactions— but he never had a problem with shoyo. shoyo had the gift. ] Wanna go . . . Over there?

[ shoyo points off to a less crowded area of the mansion, still at ground level— and, tentatively, his first two fingers curl onto any lazarus may have hanging lonely at his side, pulling in that direction. ]

[hearthebell]

[Shōyō's answer might surprise L; the indication is a slight softening of his liquid dark eyes, making his smile look warmer, realer.

Shōyō does have the gift. They're still holding hands, after all.]

Yeah?

[Wherever "over there" is, he wants to go. Shōyō's touch is grounding and his own thin hand holds back, tightens around the redhead's fingers.]

Sure, let's go. Are there interesting columns?

[Weird question, he thinks, too late. Fuck it, he'll double down.]

I love striking architecture. I've been known to go in for a Doric style, you know?

[Shōyō might not actually know.]

Masculine. I've been known to appreciate a masculine style.

[asas]

[ before they actually walk, shōyō has to glance downward. just for a second. just to see if it was real and he didn’t accidentally eat something caked in that weed-cinnamon-cocaine. he wouldn’t actually know, having a mostly straight edge, but he’s satisfied to look back up, ahead, and warm his cheeks to the fact they still are holding hands. fingers.

maybe it’s fine to slowly evolve fingers to hands then? one, by one, all as lazarus talks about something he doesn’t comprehend, but listens, nods and watches with the attention of someone who did.

that last part, he understood. masculine. masculine! shōyō might not have realized it yet, but his chest puffs out some, like one of those strutting roosters trying to show off. don’t mess this up now, he thinks to himself with a giddy smile. ]

I like, [ they’re talking about buildings. man made structures. architecture. ] tall stuff.

[ totally nailed it while his brain is off being a single celled doofus. he’s still stuck on the hand part. ]

—‘Cause I’ll jump it.

[ NO— ]

[hearthebell]

[The transition is a really smooth one. L notices things for a living, and has since he was five years old, but even he couldn't pin down the precise moment their palms had connected and pressed together.

His brows raise, because while he knew exactly what he was implying, it sounds like Shōyō might have overreached.

Startled laughter.]

In a single bound? Or does the effort last a little longer?

[asas]

[ oh, well— he’s cornered himself now, hasn’t he? what keeps him alive is the laugh, sensing that all honor hasn’t been lost yet— and tries his best to come up with a new answer to that one without taking too long. ah, here’s their warm little corner! ]

It feels like . . . Time stops, up there. [ that’s actually true; when he’s reached his apex, when he hovers those few seconds in the air— it feels like a lifetime; and just like that, it’s gone. ] I could see everything that’s going on. I guess— both?

[ does that make sense? he’s starting to babble, ]

‘Cause it takes effort to jump all of that.

[hearthebell]

[As far as L is concerned, honor never lived here, in fact never needed to. They're playing chicken now, like they did that day with the puns, seeing who can be more clever and more audacious.

Of course, it would be him. Aya isn't the only one who really must win, is compelled and driven to at least try in the spirit of competition.]

I know you've never shied away from a challenge. I didn't know that you prefer to look down at what's going on, instead of up.

[asas]

[ this is also a challenge of wits. by default, shōyō stands his ground! of course! he’s holding his crush’s hand! his brain is buzzing all over the place! he can’t think straight!

and damn, is lazarus amazing at pushing people into a corner. in a good way, this was. he could feel his heart just skip around his chest and keep skipping even as his lips thinned from the curve of his smile. ]

It’s more, like, [ shōyō brings his hand high, at least another head above him where lazarus was, ] eye to eye.

[ a self diss. a self inflicted joke about his height. clearly he has other options to stay ahead—?!

(not many, but this was the fun of it. lazarus may even realise that shōyō’s palm is a little hotter). ]

[hearthebell]

[Indeed one of L's most vivid and striking personality traits is his ability to do just that. He's better at hounding people, snapping at their ankles, forcing them to the edges of a threatening walled chamber with its walls closing in.

And yet, he's holding his crush's hand.]

More like...?

[He prompts, coaxing and goading more of the answer with eyes that meet Shoyo's. It's not so difficult; he's not so much taller, and his palm is not so much cooler.]

[asas]

More like, [ he repeats lazarus and trails off without finishing, like a buffoon but with the addition of becoming entranced. he can feel his heart pound in his ears and intensify the heat on his face through color— rusty as warmblood was. “eye to eye” was the thought, the action following it was shōyō stretching himself enough to do just that. his chin marked lazarus’ collarbone, by comparison, so if he just lifted his head, then . . .

his heart wasn’t skipping anymore, it was rattling. he kept his eyes pinned and his thought process to find the words, any words he could use, at all, have short circuited. something in him, that gut instinct he always heard when he moved, spoke up. do it. you’re flirting. you’re holding hands. you like him. he probably likes you too. duh. just do it—

without allowing doubt to trickle through and much like the quick second decisions he had to take above the net, he makes this one: shōyō tilts his head sideways just enough to keep his nose from bumping in the way, in milliseconds he can feel his gut turn to ice and rise with burning heat up to his throat with this anticipation for what came next, and fluidly, all at once with what he was feeling, leans in— ]

[hearthebell]

[The mood doesn't change so much as progress, moving along as calmly and pleasantly as a country carriage-ride on a warm spring day. For a few seconds there's nothing threatening at all on their radar, and just enough alcohol in both their systems to put mischief in their smiles and eyes.

He leans closer, keenly interested in what Shōyō's about to say next after working up to it so dramatically, and perhaps he should have expected it. Perhaps it was only inevitable, but he still freezes for a moment in shock when their lips touch.

In fairness, every part of him but his lips freeze, because they fit together well with Shōyō's. His eyes start to close, but a more rational part of him is awkwardly truncating it before the rest of him can unfreeze and feel the radiating spread of heat and excitement. He's turning away, taking a step back, and knowing immediately that it will be seen as a rejection.

He regrets it, but what else can he do when they're here, in the home of one who would call himself God, and L is committed to pulling him down from his self-constructed holy cross that Paul is all too eager to kneel at?]

[asas]

[ more than a thousand things fling through his head when the second of a lifetime hardly makes it past being a second. the fire in his chest swells one moment and is put out with a bucket of cold water the next. the riveting moxie that came from the thrill is cut short by rejection. lazarus turns away, removes a step, and from there the shock in shōyō’s eyes only retaliates once his gears begin to turn again.

his fingers slip away from the other’s, and he could feel a nauseating knot lump his throat and make his face go wine colored. what happened? what did he do wrong? did he completely misread the situation? was that really the wrong move to make? did he blow it? was he getting led on? was he—

there’re too many questions and too much awkwardness to face now. above a rejection, he’s possibly lost a friend now, too. was that a risk worth taking? he couldn’t have known, and neither could shōyō had predicted something entirely rational when he ran on pure emotion. what felt right. it felt right, but the response didn’t hold the same sentiment.

embarrassed, above all, shōyō runs a hand down his face and holds just a bit to his mouth, where his lips still felt the lingering phantom touch that he knows he won’t be feeling again soon. augh, damn it. he’s so stupid. he’s so nervous. his gut hurts. it churns in a way that tells him he’s going to feel sick, the same way he did when he saw a damn corpse for the first time. ]

Um, [ dry and cracked, his voice was, but he hangs there; shoves his hands in his pockets and rolls his balance to the base of both heels. ] okay.

[ he didn’t know what else to say, but was at least preparing to make his leave. ]

Sorry.

[hearthebell]

[It's the age-old question; is it a worse feeling for the blade to go in, or to be extracted? L's brow knits and his shoulders curl inward, because he's at a crossroads here, can see many futures laid out in front of him.

The good one is a result of choosing the selfless choice. One wound, the knife going in, and Shōyō would feel hurt and embarrassed for a little while. Probably, he'd find a real and true love in a month or two, and become as happy as he deserves to be. He fights the urge to tell this to Shōyō, practically promise it if only he wouldn't look so red-faced and sick.

Because Shōyō didn't blow it. He did nothing wrong, and yet this is something L can't do. It would only be selfish, endlessly and monstrously selfish, and Shōyō is not the shadows and daggers sort, he would not see it coming when it hurt both of them even worse, in the end.

A man who was whole and honorable would make the right decision and let Shōyō's heart break and heal. L, still a child in so many ways, chooses selfishness, and it only takes a single moment to the thousands it will feel like for the blade to, eventually, be extracted.

He reaches for Shōyō's hand, grasping it more tightly.]

No... don't be, that's not what I meant. I'm just... shy about it being in public.

[It tracks seamlessly with everything about him. Far more canny and suspicious people than Shōyō would believe it easily.]

I'll make it up to you when we find a room.

[When, not if, and he pulls Shōyō after him toward the stairs.

The skeletons there standing guard are currently preoccupied with some ruckus or distraction down the hall. Only one seems to notice them, staring long and vacantly in L's directly as he trails along the line of doors, picking one at random and trying the knob.

It opens, and he pulls Shōyō with him.

The room is decorated in a way that is simultaneously gothic and minimalist, expensive-looking sans ornamentation or knick-knacks. The bed is huge and spacious and neatly-made, and some abandoned notes and tea mugs are strewn about. Moonlight streams and pools through the window of a spacious bathroom, just off the bedroom.]

[asas]

—W-when we. Huh?

[ shōyō’s mouth gapes open, surprised already as is when the space in his empty hand had been filled, now, imagine the rest— he was still trying to catch up on the fact that. he double misinterpreted? he was just shy? just shy.

just shy.

by the time shōyō was beginning to realize it hadn’t been the absolute end of anything, his face was burning like a fire and he could feel it. he was getting pulled along and he follows, follows blindly and still, for one last time, thinking: just shy? finding room. finding privacy. emotionally profit—?!

he too, sees the skeleton sparing a glance. a twitching smile becomes a stupid, stupid grin on the red head’s face as he’s pulled and skips in after his suitor (and not without giving a quick, stupid wave at the skeleton; he’s not thinking, no he isn’t— too excited. oh, this was bad. they were in someone else’s room, surely they’re not allowed up here. technically. just for a few seconds.

they were adults. but he felt so damn much like a kid right now, feeling his heart rattle around in his chest as he giddily tries to straighten his back to make the best use of his height. ]

So, um. [ — here they are, with shōyō’s rusty red cheeks practically giving off fumes, with the way they stung from smiling so much. ] Just shy?

[ a little beacon of hope in all his unnecessary worrying, it seems. from one hand, shōyō took the other, slender in his palms and protected by his fingers. ]

[hearthebell]

[It's a room, and it's someone else's. L genuinely doesn't know whose, but there's a lot of space, and they're alone, which is what matters, out of view of prying eyes.

Now that they're here, he realizes that he doesn't exactly know what to do with this space, that bed, the adoring eyes of the young man he pulled into this room with the intention to make it right, soothe the mixed signals and the hurt with something he wants just as much, but has never done in his life.

He clears his throat, the color high and bright along his cheekbones in the dim light.]

...yes. I didn't expect to be kissed on the lips for the first time tonight. It caught me off guard, but I thought that... since I like you, and due to the fact that your skin's scent is pleasant to me and suggests a pheromone compatibility... we could try it again?

[asas]

[ there is a brief instant where shōyō draws a blank, but so very short lived— because lazarus and his unparalleled oddities is what elicits an airy chuckle and eyes that were shining like the stars outside. there was a lot he wanted to say at once and couldn’t figure out where as he sucked his lower lip behind his teeth and allows his pinkies to simply curl. ]

Like horoscopes. [ that’s all he got from “compatibility”, but it’s more than enough in this case! he probably smells of sunscreen, fresh showers and dmso. ] Thought you didn’t, for a second, like that kinda like, since I’ve liked you for a while and, [ you know what? he’s possibly speaking too much during a time that needs little of it. time to leave the nerves aside now when there was nothing to actually worry about. this was his first too. not the first of the night, the first of his ever that wasn’t because a volleyball came at high speeds for his face.

which is why, with a sharp inhale and a preparatory puff of his chest yet again, shōyō dips his head forward, slightly to the side, and lands a peck on lazarus’ lips that lingers and has some trouble actually puckering up— his own lips are too stretched, a result of smiling to much and showing his teeth for a kiss, no matter how much he tried to cover them up. ]

[hearthebell]

[L nods, the tension sitting on his shoulders as Shōyō fumbles out endearingly awkward words of acquiescence. He's actually surprised to hear that Shōyō's been fond of him, "that kind of like", for some time, but in fairness to L, he's never been in this situation, dating or kissing or anything remotely like it unless monitoring Light and Misa's dates counted (it didn't.)

In fairness to Shōyō, the volleyball player knows hardly anything of substance about L. Only his fake name, the assumption that he's French based on that name, his food preferences and a few other tidbits dropped and scattered occasionally. Clearly, this "like" is based on some successful lie he's managed to present, but tonight he's being selfish. Tonight he's not going to dwell too much on just how cruel it is, to both of them, to pretend that Shōyō likes a good person.

He cranes his neck, having to bend down slightly for their mouths to align and meet. Shōyō's sun-kissed cheek feels warm and smells sweet against the nudge of L's nose, and the tender give of lips isn't so unlike a peach's skin or the soft, sinking press of a freshly baked cinnamon roll. L's always savored both of those things, taking his time with the first nibble. Maybe he always knew that it was as close as he would come to kissing, and other sorts of pleasure that were just for other people, but not him, never him.

He realizes at a certain point that he's caught and been savoring Shōyō's upper lip, alone. Two rows of broadly-grinning teeth sit beneath it.

He improvises with his thrilled partner, who must be so happy because he's such a natural prodigy at kissing. Thus armed with knowledge of his instinctive prowess, L opts to snake the tip of his tongue out and hesitantly lick some of Shōyō's exposed teeth.]

[asas]

[ shōyō may be in grave danger of chuckling even more as his heart fluttered in his chest and his inexperience showed itself raw. he’s getting his teeth licked because he showed them in the first place, bringing with it both a fire that lit him up and a giddy rush he’d only ever closely experienced with a game. this wasn’t a game, though, it was quite serious, terribly important— fighting the urge to mutter an apology, shōyō breathes in through his nose and tends to relax. as he does, his lips do the same, coupled with a reach of his head up, he finally regains enough lip game to properly purse (or at least, better than smiling) and really dig one in.

nose to cheek, he pulls a breath in and holds for just a moment, scents the strawberry shampoo in messy bangs tempted to fall over lazarus’ eyes. the slight tang of alcohol and something very sweet extends from warm lips to the slight touch of gums, somewhere, he thought, where he may have bumped too far in whilst adjusting to the pull and lock. his hands steady him, and his mind remains ecstatic enough to continue without feeling like a complete greenhorn— you know, the one who spent his teenage years looking up “how do i spike with my eyes open” on google rather than “how do i kiss”.

it’s the sort of thing that comes as you do, he thinks. would it be alright to explore, in the process? to be frank, shōyō had been dying to, so his hands don’t stay with hands and arms for long at all. tentatively, as he pulls back just enough for a shallow, quick breath, he presses once more in full, hands cupping the sides of a slender face to make sure he could keep up with the angle and seek depth.

they were as warm as he thought they’d be. ]