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

[possessum]

( The other teen takes Peter's hand in the sort of handshake that's reminiscent of his father's colleagues (psychiatrists, mostly, people who know Exactly How To Greet You) and Peter does find himself relaxing a bit, that outermost edge of anxiety that he wears like a layer of skin easing up. The warm smile doesn't hurt either, and Peter finds his own smile warming right back. He always acts like he has to be given permission to be a normal fucking person, and something to the other boy's mannerism seems to do that for him. )

Oh, hey— maybe I should. ( And he kind of nudges his hip out a little, like he's going to bump it against Paul's, but doesn't actually. .....Easing up he might be, but Peter will forever be #SociallyAwkward....

And he hasn't forgotten about the weed, but there is a reason he was hoping to come across him, and Peter gives a little Oh, reaching for the bag hanging languidly off his shoulder. His hand pushes past a bong or two and extracts something, pulling it out. )

It's— actually probably stupid. I uh... I mean, you might not even be a hat kind of guy. ( Setting the bag of weed down for a moment on the nearest surface, his fingers carefully smooth over the brim of the black snapback that he then hands over to Paul. )

It's one of mine from back home. ...My real home, I mean. Before here. ( Knowing nothing about Paul, he'd opted for something that felt very Teenage Boy. Finding gifts around Trench is... weird — what do you get somebody? Incense? A haunted candleholder? So he'd chosen something from his own items. )

I never actually wore it though, so it's pretty much like brand new.

[terriblepurpose]

[Nothing about the look Paul gives the hat in his hands suggests he thinks it's stupid. Peter isn't the only teenager here prone to moments of imperfect social graces. Paul's just manifest differently - in this case, as only half-guarded vulnerability, the gift held with gravity out of sync with Peter's affable offering. It's a noticeable difference from the charmingly playful way he pretended to dodge Peter's threatened hip check.]

Are you sure you want to give me this?

[He brings his focus back up to Peter, serious and possibly once again resembling one of Peter's father's friends more than any of Peter's own. Abstractly, he's grateful it's likely Peter doesn't come from a place with much formal etiquette, because the question Paul is asking is baldly insulting - it's not done to ask a gift-giver if they can afford to part with their offering, especially at a party like this one.

But it's from Peter's home, and Paul is prone to sentimentality.]

The drugs would be more than enough. [He holds the hat loosely between two hands, not quite accepting or offering it back.] It's not that I don't like it, I do. It's very handsome [no, Paul] but - are you certain you won't want it, later?

[possessum]

( If it was already a bit apparent that the other teen is maybe not from the same type of world (or time) as Peter, the fact he calls the cap handsome is pretty telling. But the older boy gives a fresh smile, a little brighter. He's no stranger to people who come from all sorts of times or worlds or what have you. Somewhere around here, Luna Lovegood is wondering what an Oreo is.

—Though it does beg the question of whether Paul will understand what "Vans: Off the Wall" really means. The good thing about hats, though, is what's on them really doesn't matter. It could just be some random crap, but it still looks cool. )

It's okay, I have tons. If you want it, it's totally yours.

( Peter waves his hand casually, reaching back for his beloved bag o' drugs. )

And truthfully? I kind of want to forget about my stuff from back home.

( Peter's the opposite of sentimental, though maybe it's a tad forced, too — some way to protect himself from all the memories attached to various objects. He still has a hard time picking up his guitar and playing it. But it's all voiced lightly enough, and he smiles again. )

If snapbacks aren't your style, they look pretty dope when you hang them on the wall for decoration, too.

[terriblepurpose]

[The answer settles it. Paul may not understand wanting to leave your home behind from personal experience, but he grew up around men who had little to say about their pasts. Here, he's met many more people who have things they'd like to leave behind them. So his grip shifts on the hat, and he ducks his head to put it on. The fit isn't quite right until he adjusts the fastening mechanism, learning through tactile experience why Peter calls it a snapback.]

So it's a sort of display fashion?

[Looking cool is a new concept to Paul, but showing off is not. Clearly, these snapbacks must be prestigious articles of clothing in Peter's culture, and Paul is doubly honored to receive such a gift. He's glad someone so generous seems to have recovered so completely from their interlude of alteration.]

How do I look in it? If you don't mind my asking.

[Paul looks like himself, but wearing a forward facing brimmed hat, his loose curls puffing out around the sides in disarray. It's a return to good manners to give his guest the opportunity to see his gift in use, although Paul suspects the initial faux pas was either unnoted, or Peter is also exceedingly gracious.]

my slow butt popping back into here; I do not at all mind if you prefer to handwave or keep going!

[possessum]

It can be, yeah. Like a lot of guys I know would just collect them to hang them up. Not really wear them much.

( Peter acquired several over his Younger Teenage Years, but like the rest of his hobbies, it pretty much fizzled out by the time he was sixteen. Three years later and truthfully, he can't remember the last time he even cared about one of his hats.

It feels kind of nice giving them to other people, instead.

His grin curls up, amused. Not in the teasing sort of way, but the playful one — he does have his moments, inbetween all the doom and gloom. Hip bumps and smiles and tossing back words that are a little out of place for his time, but appropriate for the situation nonetheless. )

Dude.... you look handsome as hell.

( ....Hopefully Paul can detect that it's meant to be a compliment. That "hell" has no malice, here! Certainly, there's no trace of any snarling things wanting to claw their way right into him. Just one stupid teenager, and his bag of weed, which he holds up again. )

You still wanna try some? It's nothing too crazy, I promise.

( ...He has no idea yet that much more intense things are being offered, but Peter will eventually be dabbling in some Spice as the evening progresses.... )

as if I'm the picture of speed...

[terriblepurpose]

[Paul adjusts the hat with bolstered confidence, accepting the compliment with a cock of his head like a freshly preened bird. He's getting a little too full of himself, maybe, but he falls back on the recurrent excuse - it is his birthday.]

Thank you. [A flash of a grin.] I do what I can.

[That taken care of, he turns his attention to the bag, hell the last thing on his mind as he eyes it with renewed interest. When Peter offers up his disclaimer about its strength he's almost disappointed, confidence in one area spilling over into another for no reason at all.

He was experimenting with his tolerance of uncertainty on the way here, and that worked out better than he could have guessed. This is another experiment, of a more typical teenage kind, and the fact he's engaging in typical adolescent experimentation is another layer of experiment in itself.

(He's also a little tipsy.)]

I do. What's the next step? Should we go somewhere, or stay here?

[possessum]

( A laugh escapes Peter before he can catch it and carefully tuck it away — a soft and quiet sound, but genuine all the same. A rarity for him; he doesn't really laugh openly that much. But there's an amusement at the younger teen's reaction, and he's glad he decided to push through his own self-doubt (gift-giving, forever a source of anxiety) and bring the particular item. It's one of the few decisions Peter's made for himself in a very long time. )

Oh— it's probably better if we go somewhere we can sit down. Somewhere soft, I mean.

( Weed goes best with cushions, in his humble opinion. )

Is your room okay? Or we could try the living room, find a quiet corner to get high in.

( Preferably away from.... skeletons.... )