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deercountry2022-04-23 11:29 am
unphase) wrote in deercountry2022-04-23 11:29 am
Entry tags:
to advance or not to advance || OPEN
Who: Tinya Wazzo and you, whether the character knows Tinya or not
What: Celebrating Tinya's nineteenth birthday!
When: April 21st
Where: The Raccoon Room
Content Warnings: underage drinking, possible discussion of underage sex/marriage/motherhood, possible discussion of an emotionally abusive mother
The Raccoon Room is beautiful as always, left mostly alone except for vases of blue roses sat on tables apart from the dance floor. Blue had always been her favorite color, blue to match her eyes, and she'd rather not to into details of how exactly she managed to acquire so many within such a short period of time. But what she didn't say was that there was a florist who needed a Night Walker to help them cope with the lack of sun and she was the one who responded.
The birthday girl herself looks lovely in a blue strapless dress with no shoes or stockings, the blue in the dress setting off the blue in her eyes, the jet-black of her hair, and the faint blue tint to her skin.
There's a large board with markers where people can write their messages to the birthday girl, ranging from well-wishes to encouragement to "who the Void are you?" Her feelings wouldn't be hurt at the latter, she's well-aware of the fact that she's new in town.
The meal is made of small plates meant to be shared between two or more people and selection of sherry to choose from to go with the food. During the meal portion of the evening, female vocalist jazz plays lightly in the background, enough to be heard but not so much as it would drown out conversations between those sharing tables.
As the meal ends and the plates are cleared, a waltz music plays, ranging from classical waltzes to later songs which lent themselves to waltzing. During this portion of the evening, she's relaxed, happy, dancing with whomever approaches her without care about gender identity, not minding if she led or followed.
As the evening passed midnight, a variety of cocktails were available and the music changed again to what people from the 20th and 21st centuries would recognize as New Wave music came on and the dancing grew far more informal, Tinya in the middle of it all and singing along to the music.
And as dawn approached, one can find Tinya sitting at one of the tables, finally sampling a piece of flourless chocolate cake for the birthday girl with her feet resting on a chair in front of her. She looks happy, as happy as she could be, but there's a wistful gleam in her eyes.
What: Celebrating Tinya's nineteenth birthday!
When: April 21st
Where: The Raccoon Room
Content Warnings: underage drinking, possible discussion of underage sex/marriage/motherhood, possible discussion of an emotionally abusive mother
The Raccoon Room is beautiful as always, left mostly alone except for vases of blue roses sat on tables apart from the dance floor. Blue had always been her favorite color, blue to match her eyes, and she'd rather not to into details of how exactly she managed to acquire so many within such a short period of time. But what she didn't say was that there was a florist who needed a Night Walker to help them cope with the lack of sun and she was the one who responded.
The birthday girl herself looks lovely in a blue strapless dress with no shoes or stockings, the blue in the dress setting off the blue in her eyes, the jet-black of her hair, and the faint blue tint to her skin.
There's a large board with markers where people can write their messages to the birthday girl, ranging from well-wishes to encouragement to "who the Void are you?" Her feelings wouldn't be hurt at the latter, she's well-aware of the fact that she's new in town.
The meal is made of small plates meant to be shared between two or more people and selection of sherry to choose from to go with the food. During the meal portion of the evening, female vocalist jazz plays lightly in the background, enough to be heard but not so much as it would drown out conversations between those sharing tables.
As the meal ends and the plates are cleared, a waltz music plays, ranging from classical waltzes to later songs which lent themselves to waltzing. During this portion of the evening, she's relaxed, happy, dancing with whomever approaches her without care about gender identity, not minding if she led or followed.
As the evening passed midnight, a variety of cocktails were available and the music changed again to what people from the 20th and 21st centuries would recognize as New Wave music came on and the dancing grew far more informal, Tinya in the middle of it all and singing along to the music.
And as dawn approached, one can find Tinya sitting at one of the tables, finally sampling a piece of flourless chocolate cake for the birthday girl with her feet resting on a chair in front of her. She looks happy, as happy as she could be, but there's a wistful gleam in her eyes.
no subject
"That sounds really high. On behalf of humans, go Lyle." Kyle brightens. "Oh, Ike is great. My folks adopted him from Canada, so he's a little weird, but he's great. He's so smart that growing up it was kind of annoying because, you know, I'm older, I'm supposed to be the wise one or whatever. But he's such a good kid I couldn't be really mad about it. He's pretty normal aside from the genius Canadian thing - he plays video games and watches dumb shit same as anyone."
Kyle, who of COURSE knows who Batman is in popular media, laughs. "I mean, it could be totally made up? So I could tell you."
no subject
"Better never say that to him in person, his ego already enters the room before he does," she says fondly. "I wish I could say that I understood, but I was an only child. It might be nice, having a brother. Even though he'd constantly be showing you up in certain areas. And who doesn't love video games?"
She looks like she wants to ask so. Damn. Badly. And she makes an audible sound of distress. "It could be. It probably should be. I can't imagine the real Batman letting his civilian ID being known to anyone, even those on his peripheries like five billion Robins took the secret to their graves."
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"It's pretty cool, although I know not every sibling is as close as we are. My best friend back home, he has an older sister who pretty much just terrorized him for our entire childhood."
Kyle sips his drink and looks a trifle smug. "Well. If you ever change your miiiiind..."
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"Ugh! Why are people like that? It makes no sense, especially when it's family. Family is supposed to have your back." At least that's what she's heard? It's hard to believe when being evaluated by her great-great grandmother, her face remarkably unlined despite her age, but her eyes like chips of blue ice.
It's obviously taking all of her willpower to not ask, but she knows that if the secret was meant to be known, someone would have spilled it at sometime. A one thousand year old secret. "Urrrrgh! No. No, I'm going to be strong and not ask."
no subject
Kyle shrugs. "Dunno. I think family is really important, but I also lucked out and have a good one. My friend's family situation has always been a little more, uhm. Strained. His dad is a bit of a character." That's putting it mildly.
He laughs. "Okay, okay, then I'll never mention it again. Put it right out of mind."
no subject
Almost apprehensively. "What kind of character are you talking about?" Surely not as bad as her own father.
And she groaned and did her best to look tormented. "I'm trying, I'm trying! Ugh, almost everyone else, we have the civilian identities of."
cw: alcohol and drug abuse
Kyle shrugs. "He's an alcoholic who decided to run a weed farm because that way he could be stoned all the time. He didn't really ask his wife or anything, just sort of bought a farm and moved them all out there. He has a history of doing dumb shit like that. Like I could tell you so many stories about crap he's done, it's ridiculous. My dad is usually pretty normal." Usually.
"Oh, so you know like, Superman somehow fooled everyone by wearing frigging glasses and stuff?"
cw: alcohol and drug abuse, bambling
And that is...a lot. A lot a lot. "If I were married to a man like that, I'd have had a divorce lawyer standing by with papers ready to go. To not ask about such a huge lifestyle change...the papers would be in the email." And she thought for a moment, then decided, well...it can't hurt? "My father...he was a gambling addict. Kept it from my mother for years. He was also an alcoholic, even though there were plenty of chances for him to turn his life around and he just. Didn't."
"Yes! After getting a good look at him, I have no idea how he pulled that off. It's like, with the glasses, he's a very handsome, well-built man who seemed to have too much fondness for flannel. Once he's seen in costume, it's obvious."
cw: alcohol and drug abuse, bambling
He sighs. "Yeah. They almost divorced a couple of times, and honestly? They should have. I think it would have been better for their kids." His forehead creases. "Jeez. I'm sorry. God, it's crazy how MUCH people can hide, isn't it? Like you can just go about your life and meanwhile your spouse has all these fucking secrets. I hate that."
Kyle laughs. "At least other people wear a mask!"
cw: alcohol and drug abuse, bambling, human trafficking
"It usually is. Better for the kids, that is. No one wants to live in a house with that kind of tension in it all the time, even if there's the occasional break. That's almost even more cruel, it's easy to trick oneself into believing that this time, things will be different." And she sighed. Her relationship with her father had been borderline non-existent for years upon years. And then it turned out she'd very nearly been sold to cover gambling debts.
"Most of them do, yeah. Those whose identities aren't public knowledge. Some people, even in the twentieth century, could get away without keeping it a secret." Like pretty much everyone knew who the Flash really was, his villains too. I'm pretty sure I saw Captain Boomerang in line at Starbucks once.
cw: alcohol and drug abuse, bambling, human trafficking
A sad look comes into his eyes. "Yeah. And he's really sensitive, my best friend. A poet's soul, you know? He takes things really hard."
Kyle can only stare because he refuses to believe Captain Boomerang is a real person.
no subject
She looks on gently. "Then they really should have thought more about him and less about their own needs."
She sees that look. She's used to that look. But it was true, Captain Boomerang was real and apparently favored blue flannel two-piece jammies and slippers it looked like had been chewed by a very large dog on very many occasions. "I was a ghost at the time, so I don't have a photo."
no subject
He finishes his drink. "Yeah. Yeah, they should have."
He shakes his head. "That's unfortunate, because that's the dumbest superhero name EVER and I once called myself the Human Kite."
no subject
"Unfortunately, more people are concerned with themselves and what they want than what's best for their children." So she has to give her mother credit, she divorced her father when Tinya was barely two years old. And he's not a part of her life, never will be if she has anything to say about it.
"Actually, he was a super villain. Which somehow makes it both better and worse at the same time. But, the Human Kite? Could you somehow fly? With some other person holding the twine on the other end?" Because that would be hilarious.
no subject
"I guess. Although, I dunno. My mom is super concerned about what's best for us, she just tends to get carried away, or not really see all sides." He sighs. "I'm a lot like her, to be honest."
"Dude, that's even WORSE." He snickers. "Uh, flight AND laser eyes, thank you!"
no subject
"Oh, no. Our mothers should have coffee, the Mistress rest our souls. But at least you recognize your tendencies, that's more than most people do."
"Okay, my husband still has you beat, even though he can only use one power at a time. Though, I honestly wonder, he has super-strength and manages to punch tanks without his muscles and bones breaking. Wouldn't that imply both super-strength and invulnerability to you?"
no subject
He blinks. "You mean like... not a real husband, right? And uhm, yeah? Yeah that sounds about right."
(CW: teenage marriage)
She blinks back. "No, I mean a real husband. We were married while we were in the twentieth century and had to wait until we got to the thirtieth to finalize it, but I've been married since I was sixteen."
(CW: teenage marriage)
"Like some super religious kinda creepy possibly illegal shit. Like, where I'm from, that's the sort of thing that ends with you having twenty kids in a cult, or running away, or winding up a footnote on a true crime podcast."
Kyle fails at delicate. Obviously.
(CW: teenage marriage)
Maybe. Kind of. Just a smidgen.
(CW: teenage marriage)
He shrugs. "Not as many as some people I know. And that's..." He wants to say a terrible idea but he's TRYING to be cool. Trying. Which means he winds up sounding almost exactly like how his mother does when she's trying not to let one that she hates something.
"...different."
(CW: teenage marriage, rape)
"Hmm. Well, everything turned out well, so I'm not complaining." Not now, anyway. She knows better than to let on that her husband had been psychically and likely physically raped and that he was nowhere near as angry about it as she was.
And that tone. Is that a mom thing? Winema Wazzo's similar tone comes with a great deal more smug, but she heard that there. But again, she's not going to bring it up.
(CW: teenage marriage, rape)
"Right," is what he settles on. "Well. Uh. Cool."
no subject
"I know it's weird by, uh. 21st century standards. But it's okay. Really, it is. I'm happy." [lies. but easier than the truth]
no subject
"I mean, hey. As long as you're happy. I'm trying not to be judgmental asshole."
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