deercountry | closedish to cool guys having chill day

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closedish to cool guys having chill day

Who: a bunch of funky friends invited by Viktor and Palamedes*
What: Having a Party in a field with Fireworks
When: the second week-ish in May
Where: (the field outside of) Pal and Viktor's bunker in Gaze

Content Warnings: alcohol and teens drinking it, irresponsible use of explosives, see threads for anything else that comes up

*If you have friendly CR with Palamedes please feel free to handwave that he mentioned this happening, also if your character has CR with a Pal Friend (a pal^2) who would invite them along, he's broadly allowing this. It's not a formal affair in the slightest lmaooo

--

afternoon/evening.

Earlier in the morning on the day of The Fireworks Field Party (tm), Palamedes makes sure to send a quick location ping to anyone who's never been to the Sixth bunker (also tm) before, because it is, indeed, just in a field somewhere in Gaze. The treeline is comfortably distant from the door to said bunker, which is the only real indication anything is out here besides a few "big rocks" that he names, in his message, as landmarks.

As an afterthought, he has set up a little trail of mason jars containing glowing mushrooms to lead the way to The Field, helpfully. The Field is what it sounds like: a dang field, just slightly ominous in the Gaze fashion, although besides the usual somebody's-watching feeling, it's grassy and spacious for kitschy lawn games. Among the things Palamedes has provided (upon recommendation of a shopkeeper, so like, do not perceive his choices, they were made for him) include:

1. Just a load of blankets, big cozy ones dutifully spread out for chilling on, on the ground.

2. Throwing game Crossbones, definitely chosen because of the bones (they are wooden sticks), and just kind of left sitting there waiting because your host does not know how to play physical games.

3. beanbag horseshoes because it rocks

4. Just, like, a specific blanket that has pencils and blank paper sitting on it... This is a free station, no one will question what art happens here.

Harrow has also provided bone chairs for alternate seating, which are precisely what they sound like.

Eventually, the field will also feature a snack table, which is a community effort, and a booze table, which is slightly supervised in the way that your esteemed host(s) will not permit booze and cherry bombs at the same time.

And, because it's an open field in Trench, there is also a table where emergency incense is waiting. Wandering too far from the space immediately around the bunker (which, it's a big space, you'd have to go far) will eventually lead you to blood wards on the ground, on the trunks of a few trees, etc. Don't touch these. Don't be gross.

the fucken fireworks.

It's fireworks. Once it's dark, there are even more glowing mushroom jars and homemade alchemy glowsticks from Waver to be passed around, somehow, and at least some of the little beanbags glow in the dark, ooh!! Viktor has provided cherry bombs to be used with at least a little caution, for god's sake. There are also some slightly larger fireworks in much shorter supply, from a shop, that will be closely guarded until someone with pyrotechnics talent convinces Palamedes they deserve one. Godspeed.

Broadly: this is a fireworks party (tm) for individual wee ones you can throw around on your own, with only a brief smattering of the big ones that light up the whole sky above the field. It's a chill time for cool buds, fire safety is encouraged, so is vibing on the blankets and enjoying a nice evening.

At various times, local dope musician Anna Amarande will be providing some light musical entertainment, for vibes.

the bunker i guess.

The party is not in here, but for reference:
-it's locked via numpad and neither of these stickbug nerds are giving out the code but they'll open the door if asked... you don't have to leave the place to go to the bathroom lmf
-it's a bunker. it's one room and a bathroom in the back. it's full of disorganized nerd stuff and an oversized moon orb and pal's mean omen, rocky the cool rat (harpy eagle), who will aggressively flap at anyone with sticky fingers until they leave
-the code is 69420 so if you're super funny like gideon you COULD guess it

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Good thing Deku is so patient.

He's got Ruby Rose and Equius on tap for support equipment repair. Nice to add another to the list.

You— do? [do not ask strangers for bloodstones to put in science experiments do not do it palamedes sextus you are not a weirdo give it a little time—] I don't know what a chakra is. Necromancy is very—

[He gestures with both hands like he's holding something, which has nothing to do with the actual act of necromancy, besides the metaphor of A Thing-] It's dependent on having a physical resource, for the most part. Obviously. Only a few of the tricks aren't.

[Unless you're an awful monster, but he didn't invite any of the awful monsters, so that's not something anybody needs to talk about at this party for friends.]

In any case, I'll see what I can do about a flower. No one's going to stop me picking flowers on the side of the road, I'd think.

Good thing, yes!

Sounds good!

[He'll think of fun words for "mostly angles," just wait. He'll have to do that one on his own, because asking Gideon to help him come up with cool words for his stickbug boyfriend is just asking to be made fun of for years? A solo activity. The hand on his mouth is already too funny to be discouraging, and the kiss even less so. He easily leans into that, finding Viktor's hand and tangling their fingers together instead.

Now this is full PDA, good job guys. He still has the errant chuckles, particularly at 'globular ideal.' Good god.]

Spherical— I'll ask Shoyo for the dimensions of one of his volleyballs, in that case. [two of them!!] And the character with the charming laugh will have to be someone with a lower- [god. he can't not laugh as he says it,] -globular quotient.

[Stickbugs. Viktor's suggestions are very subtle.]

[sorry teenagers and guests, this was bound to happen eventually. it could be way worse, like if you're close enough to hear them talking about all things globular.

ok, he's finally given in to a laugh he has to choke back, swallowing down because the bit just gets worse and worse the longer it goes on. globular quotient. he hates that he's actually thinking of if the volume formula for a sphere would fulfill their purpose well enough.]

I take it back, I refuse to share this formula because then someone is going to use it unironically and my heart cannot take it. That is something I cannot be a part of putting into the world.

[or finding out pal's globular volume.] Your sense of humor is abysmal, by the way. [said with too much fondness to be true. also he just laughed so.]

[don't worry--sansa would never let it show, but deep down she's eyeing the darkblood smears on his hands (and not only because she'd heard blood was attracting strange bees, lately).]

I can only use my own blood, without a dark bloodstone. It's darkblood magic, you only have to tell the blood cells to move closer together. Have you ever made a snowball?

[necromancy being entirely dependent on dead things makes her a little uncomfortable, in the same way she's not wholly comfortable with magic that requires blood. she'd always only known it in the scary stories her brother and arya liked. but sansa has lived wholly outside her comfort zone before, she's willing to push it a little. especially if it lets her make money out of her own blood for free (and somehow, the bloodstones don't seem as scary as smearing it around in liquid form).]

Everyone has chakra in them, though. It's a word for the energy in living things. Most people can learn to guide it through spells. They're very useful. Paleblood magic is much more concerned with visions and dreams.

[If Palamedes doesn't see this globular ass formula he's going to be disappointed, please do this for him, thanks. He scoffs in protest - laugh, sir, it's very funny! - and thinks about the unironic uses of the ass formula.

No, they're still funny.]

We'll publish anonymously. No one will know it was your creation. You never know, it could be— inspirational. Have you seen what romance novels are actually like? A sidebar to learn about mass and volume would be a breath of fresh air.

[his sense of humor is the gold standard, he knows because Viktor laughed, thanks for the support!!]

In my defense, the globular ass formula is all your doing.

Honestly? About twice. I'd never been out in the snow until I got here.

[Anyway, hm, this is handy - aha - information to have. He could have guessed there'd be a trick besides just waiting for magic to build up painfully like with lockjoint, but - well, going through that once might be the one thing that's stopped him from casually bloodletting himself for various purposes. Hence his hands, which he does hold up vaguely, again.]

Viktor doesn't like it when I'm reckless about blood. Even the wards— that's what this was— are pushing it. [and he listens to Viktor, or else he'd go bleed out some stones right the hell now. Later. Maybe.] And— never mind, I do know what chakra is. We call it thalergy; thanergy is the opposite, for energies surrounding death.

[He purses his lips and glances down at his own hands, brain practically audibly whirring like oh! it was the other one the whole time!!— but later.]

I'm less practiced with thalergy. Chakra. That's— helpful to know. You're a paleblood, then?

[maybe with enough tequila he'll write the formula on the board of his own accord. otherwise pal has the ace up his sleeve of being pal, which gives him all sorts of unfair advantages in these matters. one day the formula will be freed.

speaking of tequila he does lift his mug again, leaning against pal as he takes a sip. a stalling tactic because he can't deny he did further the bit readily, he dug his own grave here.]

Trying to coax me with furthering education, very clever. At the very least we'll have distracted the reader from how ridiculous the word globular is by making everything around it even more absurd.

[a globular renaissance. he sighs.] It was. That is my burden to bear now.

[sansa nods, and viktor goes up several points of trustworthiness in her estimation. she is always cautious about drawing blood, but never more so than this month.]

He's right to be cautious. I wouldn't draw blood outside. There have been strange bees nesting in open wounds. Some of my ladies have been very concerned that I don't prick them, or myself, with a pin or needle. And I don't know if they even have any honey..!

[truly the bees have no upside. 'energies surrounding death' sounds very ominous, more so than using parts of dead animals like bone or leather. but there's no point in worrying, and she'd like to know more about it.]

Making bloodstone is very like making a snowball. You pack it down until there isn't any space left in between. But I've never heard of thanergy, or any magic like that.

[not that people could do, anyway.]

[There have been what the fuck. His eyebrows go up, like, oh - that isn't a thing he's been hearing about? Perhaps the other blood ministers figured he could be free of bees as he's already covered in eyes. Who knows.]

I'll keep an eye out for... bees.

[Last month he kept finding moths, now bees? What's with the insects? Honestly. He nods, though, to the snowball concept - very fun, he'll try that when there's less a risk of bees. As to the not-a-question she is very much asking, he holds his hands up again like a scale. It's purely a visual aid, don't worry about it.]

Every living thing is packed with thalergy and thanergy. They're one-to-one energies, which makes necromancy a finite process; I'm full of thanergy right now- cell death- [cell death! like he can just say that] but running out is essentially the same as... thirst. Extreme thirst, that saps other physical abilities.

My wards are thanergetic, [and he does look a little worn around the edges even besides his hands, despite the Sleepers' above-average natural hardiness. Because he's been out bleeding in the dirt.] As an example of what it does. They'll deter any beasts that come this way, assuming nobody touches them while I'm not looking.

[The formula to end all formulas... move over, advanced quantum mechanics, this is the end. Palamedes turns just so, to wrap both arms around him as he leans in, now definitely trying to coax him with affection. No. Well, a little.]

They'll debate the underlying meanings for centuries to come. Let's throw in a few false starts, to really stoke the fires.

[What is this book about. He's completely lost the thread, and it's his own stupid idea at its core. Oh well. He chuckles, cutting it off with a kiss pressed to Viktor's temple.]

Somehow, you'll recover.

Poke fun at the horse nerd and his ~~boy~~birdfriend, Anna.

Also, shittalking the gods is an excellent pasttime.

~~Please let him smoke with you he misses it.~~

Edited 2022-05-15 03:35 (UTC)

[viktor vaguely remembers the whole 'keep the pda low' thing, which seemed like such an obtainable goal earlier. maybe it's dark enough now he doesn't feel they're on display, maybe he just does not care because as it turns out life is either weird or short, sometimes both. which is really just a way to say he gets comfortable, lifting their joined hands to idly examine the eyes again.]

It's 4/3 times pi times the radius of the ah, the globe cubed, that would be the starting basis of the formula. It would not be remotely exact for a variety of reasons but a somewhat reasonable estimate. [wow, he was swayed. like he ever needs a reason to talk nerd stuff, absurd or not.]

Oh I am not sure, the mental scars will no doubt run deep. [he glances to pal, lips quirked as he says,] You threw a good party. Who knew they were possible.

[It's plenty dark, anyone not engaging in PDA can engage in throwing more cherry bombs, therefore no one will bother them over here. QED. Now then: the formula! It should be impossible to find something this funny, and yet? And yet.]

The obscenity I could create with just that much is profound. Whole chapters about the radius and the quest for exactness. Camilla is going to storm out of the sea purely to tell me to stop.

[He shan't stop. The Sixth's legacy across worlds will be weird math porn. Speaking of mental scars, except that this is a great idea, actually. Criminal, that he says this bit about obscenity on the heels of throwing a good party. It was Palamedes who was the bad party guest all along.]

It must be thanks to my manifest charisma. Stick with me; you'll feel better.

[sansa knows enough about blood and the body by now to have a vague understanding of cell death. she is trying very hard to meet the demands of this new place. and flakes of dead skin are much less alarming than the sacrifices she's been trying not to think about.]

I suppose blood cells die when they're leaving the body.

[actually that does sound like sacrifice on a very small scale. it seems like there must be easier ways to do this, especially for darkbloods.]

Do you know Wanda? She's my friend, and a great architect. She can make permanent barriers like that.

She would be right to. I would in fact support her in this, despite being an accomplice. [he's a traitor to the cause. where's the commitment. to be fair everything he's learned about camilla veers towards her being the sort who is usually right about most things. he is simply following nature.

also to be fair viktor thinks if they manage to end the party without any injuries he'll consider it a success one way or another. pal's ward bleeding doesn't count. unavoidable casualty.]

You realize I must be saccharine and inform you I do feel better when I'm with you. [disgusting. maybe if he makes his tone dry enough it will hide the sap.] That manifest charisma is a key component in why we are dating.

Well— that about sums it up, sure. As you can guess, I'm not really equipped to do anything large-scale without hurting myself.

[Unless he did actually have access to a recent death, but he's not keen on murder, so he's running on his own reserves and whatever the darkblood supplements that with. It's working, more or less.

Damn though, what he would do for a permanent barrier, particularly now that some people at this party keep trying to break into his house...]

Is she a necromancer? Or a different kind of mage?

[it's reassuring that he doesn't seem to want to kill anything, although it's not as if people don't eat chickens, here. sansa's not about to suggest animal sacrifice, though. her smile warms a little.]

She's not a necromancer. I think she's just a very good darkblood mage.

[sansa she's the scarlet witch]

She fixed the roof in my house, so a tree could grow through it, without letting in any rain.

Oh, both of you? My writing career is stifled, then. [He could probably defy just one of them, at least just for the bit, but both? Nope, he's far too soft. Just like this saccharine non-confession, tsk. Now that's gooey.]

Viktor, you're so— [Mmph. He shakes his head, which has the side effect of letting him press into Viktor's hair with a swell of tender emotions. Lucky that he hasn't had any tequila himself, even if that would give him a reasonable excuse for his next outpouring of- well,] You sweet, brilliant man. You're charming. I adore you, you know.

[It's been very subtle. Perhaps he has need of a reminder.]

It's for the good of the collective, I'm afraid. The world is not ready for your radical ideas. [all that dry commenting is fine and all but pal is being not only sweet but sincere, which is kind of viktor's weakness.

seriously, give him overt flirting and he won't bat an eye but this? even though it's hardly new of pal it still floors him sometimes, how open he is with his affections, how tender they are. he closes his eyes a moment before turning abruptly to cup pal's jaw and kiss him. definitely bordering on the risky pda line. he does not care.]

Unbelievable, you are an absolute menace in every sense of the word. [he murmurs between them, flushed and not really from the kiss.]

I think it's because Camilla hates the idea of our legacy being writing for perverts. [And considering Viktor will only anonymously publish the ass formula, he's applying that theory to him, too. It's fun and funky, being the one without an overabundance of dignity. Math porn isn't what the world needs, but what it deserves.

As punishment.

That aside, his true radical nefariousness is sincerity, of course. It's always worth telling his people what he likes about them, and Viktor especially; the way it makes Viktor all but go to pieces every time only makes it better. Obviously, given everything else he's just said, but still.]

Me? Well, you know I wouldn't lie, [so that's a plus, but he's still smug about it. This is the only time he's ever been menacing, how exciting.]

Six for the truth, et cetera— it's my sworn duty to be truthful, so you'll just have to put up with me.

[He nods; it makes more sense that she's just a different kind of mage, as he's never heard of a necromantic barrier that didn't involve wards or take active focus to keep up. Maybe Waver knows something about those...]

That makes sense. I had to ask; people's understanding of necromancy around here is backwards and sideways compared to reality. [he holds a hand up,] That's not an insult towards anybody, but all of that 'zombie' stuff has to come from somewhere.

[So inefficient? A lovely skeleton construct gets it done. Anyway.]

Can I ask why you have a tree growing through your house?

[sansa's mouth twists. she suspects the reality he is used to is very different from her own. 'backwards' is a good word for her world, but there are some things she does love about it. and she doesn't think its necromancers would be content with cell death.]

I chose the house with the weirwood growing in it. I didn't want anyone to cut it down. The Moss King summoned it from my world, around the same time that I came here. It's an ancient heart tree with magic carvings, and I'm very glad to have it. You might see it, if you were to come by for a fitting.

[she gives steep discounts to fellow sleepers.]

More tree than faun, Midoriya ambles around the field in a T-shirt and dark blue cargo shorts. Midoriya's skin has turned a medium green. His mop of hair remains a dark viridian. Two ram's horns curl above long ears that regularly pivot towards sound. His feet are very elongated, his gait shifted to his toes--one a hoof, the other looking like the thin base of a tree.

Instead of being covered in hair like a true faun, he has acquired a corded, rootlike structure, especially in the lower legs. The scars covering his body like a map cross over raised whorls and striations in his skin that recall wood and long-forgotten spirals drawn by some ancient sapient. Midoriya hopes people will be less put off by his scars, especially the huge one on his right arm, since they're made less stark by everything else.

"Hi, it's nice to meet you. I'm Midoriya--my family name, most people call me that back home. Palamedes-san told me we're making explosions?"

The polite young man offers a small, guileless smile and adds in a reassuring voice, "Don't worry, I'm used to being around explosives, but on the receiving end. I'll make sure everyone is safe."

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closedish to cool guys having chill day

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cw....the bee plot

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more like globular renASSance

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you couldn't help yourself....

deep down you knew it was coming

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i really did, despite never expecting it would one day move to ass puns

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i humbly repent but only a little

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