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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[As a half-assed host, Palamedes has a duty to make his rounds and also be terrible at all the games before he can circle back to the real goal: Viktor giving him explosives to play with. He does this, being particularly bad at crossbones and particularly amused by how bad he is at it despite himself, and further, has a stupidly enjoyable time at this party, even though parties are boring. Perhaps it was the lo-fi field energy all along that could have saved parties...

When he inevitably finds Viktor again it's with a shoulder-bump of greeting and a hand resting low on his back, hello, and he peers at the bag of cherry bombs as if he has never seen it before. Good gracious, what is this. Golly.]

There you are; I've been losing at games for ages and I need to have a conversation that isn't about throw trajectory. [ha, sports,] How are you liking all this? And— how many of these do I get to have?

[How privileged is he with fruit bombs, hm?? Eh???]

You really couldn't resist when you heard there was a game called 'crossbones,' could you? [viktor still hasn't the faintest idea what that game is and he's at least ninety precent sure pal didn't either and just saw 'bones.' necromancers are fun.

still, he is also having a decent time, which goes against his moral code but alas. he digs into the bag and pulls out one of the bombs, holding it out for proper viewing, lips quirked fondly.]

Eh, I like you so you can have a few extra. Here, put all that talk of throwing trajectory to good use. [a pause, then genuinely,] It isn't so bad, for a party. You have good friends.

Was I supposed to? Would you, if it had a 'hex' stuck on it somewhere? [Hexbones. Palamedes still isn't really sure what crossbones is either, except that yes, it has bones in it. Maybe if Harrow would spare them a few actual femurs or something, they could really get a crossbones game going up in here. Later though; right now is for humming in admiration for explosive engineering marvels, as is appropriate.

He takes it, to hold it up and look at it more closely. This can wait one minute for Palamedes to enjoy Viktor being soft about the party. Tell him everything.]

He's into parties now, who could have predicted this, [he quips, amused. Yes yes, Viktor is actually into good friends, but still.] I wouldn't bother with bad friends. Odd ones, maybe.

[Ones that break into bunkers to write butt words on the chalkboard, but then, they live down there? Oh no, are they the odd friends?]

You have to admit 'hexbones' would make anyone curious. [viktor defends. yes he would have gotten it on that name alone, how dare you call him out like this. the merging of two worlds, the necromancer bone thing and viktor's inability to name anything without slapping hex in front of it.

'into parties,' that gets a snort and a faint nudge with his shoulder.] That's skewing the statistics. Liking a single party out of the dozens I've been forced to over the years is an anomaly.

[have a lighter, also pulled from the handy bag.] Odd ones are generally the ones worth keeping around anyway. We wouldn't want things to be dull. [or to be away from their people because seriously.]

[He scoffs, rolls his eyes for effect, holds up cherry bomb and disapproving index finger to Think, and comes up with:] Bonehex.

[No, it's still bad. It's the worst bit ever bitted, Viktor.]

The real problem is dragging home a game that weighs more than I do, [why so many bones in that bag] but it seems like a hit; I'll allow it. And if we're all collectively your anomaly, I can live with that.

[Love that, actually; cheers to weird friends and lo-fi parties. He gives Viktor an affectionate little tap on the cheek before taking the lighter, now armed with an explosive and some fire. Hmm.]

The time limit on the fuse is what, again?

[he didn't bring up bonehex, don't blame him and the noble hexbones.] Terrible. It sounds like a magically cultivated disease of the bones.

[or a... a hex? does it sound like a hex maybe??]

I'm assuming you just used the same method that now stains our chalkboard. [darkblood perks. his lips quirk fondly at this maybe being an anomaly, yes, before flicking the fuse with a thoughtful hum.]

About twenty-five seconds each, give or take a handful of seconds. I kept them longer to avoid any actual finger loss.

[the worst thing here is this is probably one of the better ones he spent the most time on. not that cherry bombs are actually even remotely difficult to make, just flashpowder with a fuse, but getting certain little effects or sprays of color? slightly more resources. a little more research to perfect.

aka he likes pal a lot and he gets the pick of the bombs, what a privilege. all part of the experience new things agenda.]

[Yeah Viktor that is just a hex. Palamedes raises an eyebrow at him - it's a hex!! A bonehex! But,] 'Hexbones' is the exact same thing. Honestly, 'crossbones' is just as function-over-form as the way you like to name things, but I wasn't going to argue with the shopkeeper.

[And yes, he did bleed all over it to get it home, but it was for the sake of The Party so nobody can judge his blood choices. His hands have been betraying him with the usual unsubtle berry-stain smudging since before he went to set up the wards, so... shh.]

You did well; nobody has lost any yet. Here's hoping I don't throw the curve.

[This he says as he lights the fuse; he stands there looking at it for a bit, because he's counting - he definitely can't throw it high enough to kill a full 25 seconds, so he lets the fuse fizzle pretty low before he tosses the little bomb as high as his skinny arms can get it straight overhead. There it goes, up and up... what color did he get, sir.]

It is not, there's a nuance. [there isn't.] You did well though. In truth I assumed there would merely be explosives and perhaps food, not several games as well.

[good hosting. also to be fair the inky stains are probably less noticeable when paired with new eyeballs everywhere. viktor still thinks he should have just asked someone for help moving it though, the usual solution over literal blood magic.

he gets a little burst of purple and blue sparks, the kind that crackle in the air a moment as they fizzle out. he eases to see it worked, this is about the most complicated the batch gets so that's promising. his attention is more on pal anyway, faux serious as he asks,] Your initial reaction to the fireworks experience so far?

[translation: do you like the cool thing he made specifically for you?]

I couldn't help myself, [he concedes, which is as much overt admitting he's soft for just about every person here he already knew as he's going to do. It's not that it's embarrassing or anything, but it would take a while to itemize all the reasoning, see. This saves time; he gives Viktor a brief little smile, for emphasis. Yes, fine, he's an adequate host. Gosh.

Anyway, blood magic is always the solution, or at least the necromancer solution, because the question is always "how can I do this immediately, without having to wait patiently?" Unlike waiting for the cherry bomb fuse, although the anticipation is a fun addition to this particular waiting. It pops, up there—

Ah, and it's lovely? It's colorful sparks, and it's impressive that Viktor just made all of these by hand in a manner of a couple afternoons - but besides that, as he looks up at the sparks and Viktor asks his question off to the side, it's... hmm. The party. The odd friends all coming out here to meet and enjoy each other. Viktor, of course. All of it.

It's a whole swell of feeling, and Palamedes watches until the very last spark fizzles out before he looks back at Viktor with an absurdly luminous smile for just one pop.]

Much more exciting to throw than to watch. [he likes the cool thing viktor made for him,] You do one; for me, don't fuss because you made them all.

[He's holding up the lighter, this is required now.]

[pal gets a quirk of the lips that says viktor was the fool for expecting anything less, really. grade a pal to push things further, especially when it came to providing for friends. big surprise, viktor admires that about him.

that quirk becomes a fuller smile when pal looks back at him- unfair, the man has a beautiful smile and viktor's refraining from too much pda, a terrible trial at the moment on him, personally. he does give up that fight enough when he takes the lighter from pal, snatching his hand first and kissing his knuckles before hm, yes lighter thank you.]

I usually just let them explode on the ground. You made it far more interesting. [he admits, pulling out another he thinks is just white sparks and lighting the fuse. it genuinely is kind of fun in a ridiculous way to watch it, waiting until he thinks it's safe and lobbing it up with similarly weak nerd arms.

he was right, this one is just a shower of white sparks that has him smiling again, more in satisfaction than anything.] If there's ever a next time I want to make some fireworks proper, see how it goes. [Science.]

[Ah, and Viktor kissing his hand is the ideal bow on top of all of his tender feelings for this one cherry bomb and the party itself; he laughs, giving Viktor's hand a quick squeeze around the lighter during the handoff. Hm, yes, very sweet.

And also, hold on-]

Are they supposed to just sit on the ground?

[Genuine question; this didn't occur to him at all. They're a throwable shape? Was throwing them around not the point? He'd be somewhat embarrassed if he wasn't riding the high of that first one still, as Viktor tosses another up in the air. Letting them sit on the ground would be a waste, he thinks; Viktor put in so much effort.

He watches the white sparks, sidling back over to Viktor's side as he does and reaching for his hand.]

When you say 'proper,' you mean the big ones? It's cute that you'd pretend to wait for an excuse to start tinkering. [glance.... please, Viktor, chase your bliss. make the science.] I'm sure you'd crack the technique inside of a week, maybe less.

I've only ever seen people light them then run away. Or throw them at others. [pal's method might be correct for all he knows. more dangerous! but more interesting, he decides. both in final product and countdown.

he's happy to offer his hand up, a snort at pal absolutely having his number.]

I could make a lucrative fireworks business on the side, I suppose. Pay for all the other, less interesting projects. [like boring blood gem research. rarely even explodes.]

Running away seems even more counterproductive to seeing it properly. I prefer my method; even the Sixth can allow a little spectacle every now and then. [haha... pocket sized bombs: true spectacle.

But yes, thanks for this hand, he takes it and leans in with a gentle swaying for a moment. Pity they don't have a bunch of extra arms like Shoyo, or they could hold hands and throw cherry bombs at the same time. The technology could use some work.]

Douse them with a bit of blood and they could dispense areas of effect, maybe. I don't know. Does that sound like it would work? With the heat.

[Cherry bombs: blood edition would be handy, but how viable is blood magic when it's also on fire? Big questions. Let him bleed on something to test it ASAP.]

Are you certain it wouldn't be alarming the wildlife? [wasn't that what his mother called it? still funny to viktor. still he makes a point, much better to throw around with careful timing.

put it on the to-do list, cherry bomb gun for maximum hand holding while blowing things up in a very mild and non-destructive way. viktor twines their fingers together, though the look he gives pal is unimpressed.]

You've bled on enough things tonight, I think. [just cutting off any bleeding dreams right there. now for the actual idea, which does intrigue him.] ... It's an interesting thought. I wonder what adding certain compounds to sleeper blood could manage, let alone then changing the state of it. [through explosives. can't go wrong.]

The Oversight Body can file a formal complaint if they don't agree with my leadership. I will absolutely read it. [ha ha, the end. Cherry bombs were meant to be thrown - here, at least, where they can see the sky without a view screen. He's coming around to being outside, but only a fraction.

Anyway, spoilsport. He scoffs, briefly tilting his head to the side to land on Viktor's shoulder like, oh, woe! Woe is Palamedes, who cannot bleed on everything at all times. Ahem.]

Alright, alright. [But hm, new project? No, they mustn't. There are already so many. ...but,] Blood mist is just as corrupting as concentrated blood; if the integrity of Sleeper blood can be preserved, so should the magic. What sorts of compounds?

Generous, Master Warden. [he does pull pal's hand up to pat it with his free hand, a 'there there, sorry you can't bleed all over the yard' gesture because truly pal suffers under tyranny here.

way too many projects. possibly enough projects to fill pal's comically large surplus of notebooks.

but.] So it could theoretically offer a wider spread of said magic and effect. Interesting. [and messy. if it were darkblood the stains would be incredible.] Several things would interest me to know- actually, do ministers deal with anticoagulants at all in their work?

[Viktor is indeed very unfair, not letting him bleed on anything else. Palamedes gives him a Look, very tragic indeed. He suffers.

Darkblood mist is possibly the worst option for the stains alone, but what if it could let people float around... possibilities: endless. But oh, Viktor has practical concerns, hm,]

Hm. Infrequently. The ones who lean into non-magical forms of medical practice do more than the others, from what I've noticed. The workplace tension between the ministers who favor blood magic versus the traditional healers is fairly intense.

[Very wild! The stuff you see at work! He shakes his head.]

Why, do you want some to test? I can pinch a vial.

[tempting, so tempting. viktor's brow furrows as he internally debates this before giving up with a soft sigh and ultimately a shake of the head.]

No, I don't want to take focus away from other research. It's the sort of thing better handled by a chemist or blood minister regardless. [such a sacrifice, but really, it is freeing to be able to be whisked away by little research whims once in a while.

that and he'd get too curious about what happens when you add blood to more volatile compounds and gods know where that would end up. bad end au bullshit probably.

instead he focuses on pulling back pal's sleeve a little to regard the new Eyes, asking,] How have these been? I'm concerned about the sensory input you must be processing.

So you're saying I should do it, [he says, with a brief grin. No, he won't, he's not that interested in throwing mysterious compounds into blood just to see what happens; his blood ministering career might not last long if he did, and he'd hate to wind up one of the "independent" eccentrics. Being a Sleeper makes him eccentric enough already.

Anyway, eyes. Hmm. A few of them pop open to boggle at Viktor when he pulls the sleeve back, and Palamedes hums at this.]

I can see into six new dimensions and also the future, [mildly, then,] Well, they can barely see anything, you know. It takes more effort to concentrate on not processing another fuzzy blob.

[Hence trying to keep them closed as much as he can, although that has the annoying effect of trying to essentially wink large-scale and longterm, and also, well. As another eye opens to swivel around and look at Viktor,] They like you. Even if you're blurry.

[eyes (affectionate)]

You would have to find time in your schedule for questionable blood experiments. [who doesn't have time for that, in between bleeding and children's sports team management.] No, I think we may actually have to leave some questions momentarily unanswered.

[gross. what isn't gross is pal's new eyes, which viktor is a touch surprised about. he's well aware it would be reasonable to find them unsettling at the very least, but once it was clear they weren't causing pal any pain? mostly he finds them fascinating.

he traces the skin near one as he regards it, lips quirking at the absurd concept that they like him.] Hm, the feeling is mutual. It's an odd look but not terrible. [weirdo.] I wonder if the Trench is just calling you nosy.

A long moment, I imagine. [They have... so many projects, without adding more every time an interesting question comes up. This is what it means to be a responsible adult, probably.] Leaving it alone— alright.

[A firm nod, to prove he agrees and will not go wild over this blood+ idea. Much as it pains him to let something go unexplored when the avenues for exploration are there... ahh, being responsible is boring.

He focuses instead on the eyes, and the brush of Viktor's touch near one such eye, that flutters closed in, ah, enjoyment at the attention. He huffs, quiet and amused.]

I've been nosy my whole life; I hope the Powers that Be here don't consider that news.

[Now, significantly, Viktor thinks his eyes look not terrible, a fine compliment. Hmm.]

I'll admit, I'm relieved. I don't really mind them, but... [to be gross to others? dread.]

[they'll need to learn to survive without indulging in relentless curiosity this one time. it's a big ask but maybe they can make it through with support and perseverance.]

You, nosy? This is shocking to me. I am glad the Trench dipped you in eyes to make sure I was aware. [dry. still he's smiling a touch at how the eye flutters, though pal's words make him glance back to his actual, original eyes.

he has the decency to do a quick scan of the area before saying simply (and somewhat quietly, to be safe,)] When the party is over I will show you how much I like them, hm? [monsterfucker. but really nope, not letting pal think for a second the eyes are gross in a real way. not to him, at least.]

[Maybe if Viktor comes to sports practice... ahem...

Well, he laughs once, a brief chuckle, and then again a little more surprised. Does it surprise him, actually, that Viktor can so easily translate scientific curiosity into showing Palamedes how much he likes the eyes, hm, no. If it were Viktor covered in eyeballs, he'd probably be the exact same way.]

Will you? I was a fool to worry for even a heartbeat; I see. Quite a bit, actually.

[Zing, except that he really doesn't see that much more, but it's for the bit. He leans in towards Viktor with an accompanying flurry of eyes opening all down the side of his neck, kissing just the corner of his mouth before pulling back. You know, subtly. He is a very subtle person.

Hmm. Eyes.]

You'll have to help me count them. I can't reach them all.

Eye puns are going to increase dramatically now, aren't they? [viktor sighs, the tone of a defeated man. he should have known, that's the real trial here. the body horror is just a vehicle for it.

extremely subtle. viktor smiles and resist the urge to just pull him in for a proper kiss, teenagers and guests be damned. he manages to keep it to smiling fondly at him, a look that's probably just as nauseating in terms of pda. terrible.]

Oh, I think I can handle a thorough preliminary count for you. Assuming you aren't tired out by rigorous party hosting by the time everyone's left. [and he pulls a sparkler out to hold out to pal, lips quirked.] Occupy yourself with this before we embarrass ourselves.

[Palamedes wiggles his eyebrows, like, oh? Are the eye puns going to increase dramatically? They just might! He's entitled to an eye pun or several, he thinks; like Viktor's thorough examination of his many eyes, it will keep his mind off of having many eyes. Clearly a useful thing.]

If I was going to be tired of pretending to host, I'd have been on the ground an hour ago. [there are so many people to ensure are having a good time, after all; he's paced himself.] Somehow, I'm suddenly feeling much more energetic, besides.

[It's the anticipation. He personally will embarrass them both beyond measure if not curtailed, so the sparkler is a genius move. He takes it and twirls it over his fingers, which mercifully do not have any eyes on them to errantly poke out.]

D'you want another drink? Let me do something productive before I wheedle you into sitting down with me, and with this.

[There is a cozy blanket with their name on it and it might just be the squid art station, repurposed in the dark. Speaking of embarrassing them both, he cannot resist,] You could start counting now.

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