closedish to cool guys having chill day

[megatheorem]

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

Comments

L Lawliet (Lazarus Sauveterre) | OTA

[hearthebell]

[Are we dating?

L still hears the question sometimes. Usually it's when he's deep in thought about how he could have answered it more prudently to actually do something good for Shōyō, however much if might have crushed his spirits initially. Occasionally he hears it when he's trying to make his mind as spotless and quiet as possible, but then it drifts through, irrepressible and definitely a problem, however warm and sunny it might feel.

He can't reconcile it or figure out whether he wants to be noble or selfish, though, at least not in time for this outing. So they arrive hand-in-hand, with the easy interaction between their still somewhat monstrous-looking bodies suggesting that, yes, they probably are in fact dating.

They stick together at first, sharing a snack and a bit of conversation about sports, before gradually splitting off to go mingle. Almost the first thing L does once he's sans Shōyō is reach for a a drink, topping it off with slightly more liquor.

Parties aren't his thing on the best of days, and after the events of April, it is far from that. He's oh so recently been put in his place by one who would call himself God, after all, and he showed up looking like Satan himself.]

I. A Literal Wet Blanket

[Some of the grass appears concerningly dry. While L would like to camp out for a bit and take a load off, he's concerned about the effect the heat and occasional flames rolling off his demonic form. While his arrival robes won't catch, the grass might, as well as the blankets, so he returns momentarily with several bottles of water.

Methodically, he's making sure he thoroughly soaks the blanket he's chosen. Hopefully, it wasn't yours, left for just a moment to refill your beer.]

II. If I Was Sober Enough to Play, I Wouldn't

[When the world has started to melt pleasantly at the edges around dusk as a result of just enough alcohol, L finally wanders his way over to the games, setting his slightly fuzzier sights on the game of Crossbones.

He's just tipsy enough that at first he thinks it's croquet, and he's confused when he doesn't immediately see mallets.

Nope; not croquet. If you're still playing, even though it's starting to get dark, he'll approach you right away, holding a pair of sticks in each clawed hand like a pair of drumsticks.]

Was this meant to be set up in any particular way?

[As though it's Jenga and someone just left a mess behind, rude.]

III. Fire... Works, It Definitely Works

[L probably should have cut himself off when he couldn't throw a bone straight.

He did not. When that warm and pleasant glow had started to wear off into something heavy and sleepy and headachey, he'd chased it with more, trying to reclaim the sensation and the fun it allowed. He's succeeded in some kind of way; he clutches two handfuls of glowing beanbags, carrying them back to the wet blanket that is now merely damp. Hopefully, he can meet up with Shōyō and actually watch the fireworks together.

One of the first fireworks bursts and pops in the sky unexpectedly. Though his reflexes are dulled, he startles enough to drop his beanbags... and one of them is quite unintentionally but very definitely on fire.

Hopefully it didn't land near you, or your stuff, or on you and your stuff. Because he's coming after it with a cold, damp blanket to smother it and everything close to it.]

IV. Wildcard!

[Want something a little more chill? A little more crazy? Throw what you got at me!]

wildcard

[peripheries]

[He doesn't actually intend to say anything to Lazarus at all. When Kaworu notices him, flitting at the edges of the party like a moth, it's a sudden, furious impulse that drives him. He thinks about Paul's miserable form, curled up on the bed, staring at the wall, wishing to be pulled into the white expanse to hide his shame.

Lazarus had been at the center of it. One of the thieves during a night of joy. Who'd suffered consequences and let the runoff spill over onto Paul. Teacher had to clean the mess up. Paul had made a mistake that he couldn't take back.

Someone with more experience with people might have realized that there was little he could say to Lazarus that the man did not know. And that, from what he knew, Lazarus had good intentions, and so likely felt as bad at this as Paul did. Unfortunately, Kaworu was not that person and felt like he must was going to set the record straight to protect the boy he cares about.

He slinks over to L, arms crossed, hair in a messy ponytail, trying to look serious with all of his five-foot stature.]

We need to talk.

[hearthebell]

[L is neither sober or drunk, neither tormented or numb. He's a perfect slate for others' emotions, in other words, and the soot-winged demonic creature (who is nevertheless wholly recognizable as himself) glances up sharply when Kaworu addresses him.

His manner, perhaps even his aura, communicates something jagged and dangerous. He's a man with little left to lose, hopeless and hapless, only here because someone blind to all of that asked him.]

Yeah?

[Unflinching, unblinking. I know something you don't, his brief and twisted expression says, before he returns it to placid, staring stillness.]

Of course. Let's talk.

[peripheries]

[Kaworu on the other hand has pointed ears, fangs, and small horns growing out of his head. His pupils, now slits, fixated on Lazarus. It's a bit funny to have these features when you're a being called "an angel" yet though don't seem incongruent with his general features or demeanor at all.

He doesn't pick up on the depth of the jaggedness of Lazarus, only a skim on the surface, standing in contrast as someone who thinks he has everything to lose if he doesn't act. Still, there's no venom in his voice. Instead, he tries to grasp for an air authority that he's never tried to wear before. And it doesn't necessarily fit him.]

Don't don't do things that could hurt, Paul. You need to be more careful.

[hearthebell]

[L's never responded well to authority, however pure the intentions, however decent the execution. That it's Kaworu's first time provably doesn't help matters terrifically; is it really L's place to be humiliated and then further subjugated and debased?

It's not his first time affecting an air of authority. His expression and tone are cool as he says, softly,]

I haven't hurt Paul. I've only ever tried to keep him safe. That's not always the same as giving someone what they want, or what makes them happy, or what makes them like you. Do you know as much?

[peripheries]

[Though his intention isn't to debase, only to warn, his inexperience both in speaking with others and relationships in general only further grind further valleys to rough words. Even if he isn't bitter, his words are hot with passion.]

Safe is different for everyone.

[Certainly, he was kept safe as a child. Doesn't mean it was good. Nor does it mean Lazarus thinks of safe the same way as his creators, but he doesn't think of that right now. Mostly, he just thinks of Paul's face crumpled in the kitchen and despondent in the darkest parts of the night.]

You stole from Teacher. Paul felt what happened to you. He saw what happened to you.

[hearthebell]

[The way L regards Kaworu says, in quiet and subtle ways, that subjectively, he considers this encounter unsafe. He still persists, because really, what does a man with little to lose have to fear?]

You call him "Teacher"...

[Something important to learn about anyone here, placing them soundly in a place that L can't trust.

He doesn't noticeably take a step back, but his foot slides that direction anyway, ready to.]

What happened to me is our business.

[As much as it can be when they've not really spoken or spent time together. They are Bonded, of course, but he struggles to remember why, lately, in his paranoid and cynical shell that increasingly pushes everything good and kind away from him.

Why hasn't he figured out how to break it yet, so that they're not both beholden to L's carelessness?]

[peripheries]

Paul is my business. I'm also trying to keep him safe.

[Hotly, as if trying to make sure that point isn't forgotten though it's been perfectly clear throughout the night. He's never cared about someone like he cares about Paul. And he doesn't know how to care in a way that's restrained. It's hot and wild and burns like fire with all the intensity of teenage hormones coupled with a lonely upbringing lighting it up like oil.

It isn't even Lazarus he feels frustrated with, really. It's his own inability to have helped, to do anymore than comfort or try to ease pain that he didn't understand. Surely, as a self-appointed guardian angel, he could have done more.]

Why does it matter what I call him?

[hearthebell]

I don't care what you call him.

[Not meant to sound as harsh as it probably does. His entire body is a fortress, with his shoulders stiff and forward-curled.]

I'll stay away from him. I have no one trying to keep me safe, and so I can only promise so much with regards to the Bond... but I'm looking into options for that, as well. Leave me alone? I'd like that.

[peripheries]

Why would you stay away? He cares for you. He doesn’t want to see you harmed. Or hurt you. That’s another reason why you should be more careful. Seeing you like that was difficult for him.

[Kaworu is genuinely clearly baffled by this. He’d only wanted Lazarus to consider his bond with Paul and how his mistakes could harm him. Lazarus leaving would only hurt Paul further and that’s the last thing he wants.]

[hearthebell]

[This is something that a lot of humans, especially humans like L, would comprehend. The fact that Kaworu is no such being comes rushing back at the angel's confused words, and L's fortress crumbles a little. He can be like stone, truly, hard and unforgiving and cold, but when he's confronted by something innocent or childlike, he struggles to maintain the front.]

Sometimes staying away is the best way to care for someone.

[If you're rotten and awful and plan to trespass against God again, especially.]

What he still needs from me can be done at a distance, and... maybe it's better, so. I've made my peace with it already.

[So you see, the prideful part of him implicitly insists, you didn't have to say anything at all.]

[peripheries]

Not Paul. He's not that kind of human. He wants people close. He wants to care for them where he can touch them.

[A huff. He doesn't understand. Surely Lazarus cares for Paul, why can't he see this? Perhaps a case of humans being lost in their own minds, only able to see their own reality, instead of that of those around them. It's curious... that beings that are always with others struggle to understand them.]

He wouldn't want you to just leave.

[hearthebell]

[Kaworu doesn't know who he is talking to, not really, the same way that no one really knows who "Lazarus Sauveterre" actually is. And it's through no fault of his, because L does everything he can to deflect and divert attention from what made him sensitive, numb and hungry in ways that other humans are not.

Paul understands it a little, he thinks. Paul's drawn parallels to the mentats in his own world that have helped to frame the specific kind of person who sits in a padded box of a room with a computer solving problems, instead of being "always around others."]

I can't leave if I was never really there. He doesn't have to worry, and neither do you, I suppose.

[Only one person has reason to worry, he thinks, and hopefully he's far from that man's thoughts, written off as a thief put in his place.]

i

[dohaeris]

[sansa approaches with two cups of water. the yellow primrose flower crown in her hair does not match her dark grey and silver dress, or her black leather belt and boots (and needle necklace. her smile is a little more mischievous than usual.]

I could make you a fireproof blanket, if you like.

[not right now, but for future occasions, including sleeping. she wonders how he manages sheets and thinks he's probably sleeping in a bathtub.]

[hearthebell]

[Sansa catches him off-guard, not because her approach was particularly surreptitious or sneaky, but because she really dressed for this, in a way one would probably expect a princess to. He stares a bit, maybe for a second longer than is polite, because he's not immune to the effects of beauty.]

I'm hoping that this blows over by the time you'd have it finished. I'm also getting better at controlling it.

[Clearly.]

I like your dress. Did you make that?

[dohaeris]

[it's not out of place for trench; her hemline skims just below the knees in front and the sleeves are lightly belled. she holds out the cups of water towards him.]

Thank you, I did. It took a lot longer than a blanket. They're mostly hems. I could do a sheet for you in half an hour, but I'd have to go to Glover Lover first.

[it would probably require a full afternoon of cutting patterns, but perhaps she could get them to give her the fabric first.]

I thought you might like to have some more water, in case anything should happen. You could drink it, too.

[sometimes the 'winter is coming' mindset manifests in unexpected ways.]

[hearthebell]

A sheet would be... nice, actually.

[Because he absolutely sleeps in the bathtub, lately. He's not confirmed her assumption because he dislikes being a bother, choosing instead to suffer (and get cricks in his back and neck) in total silence.

He accepts the water gratefully, setting it near the sopping blanket like a pair of little sentinels.]

Since I met you, you've been looking out for me in little ways like this. I'd offer to repay you, but... it's unique enough that I haven't thought of a reciprocal yet.

[He supposes he, also, could look out for her in little ways, and that's the closest he's come yet to settling on something.]

[dohaeris]

[sansa gives a little laugh and a nod.]

Yes, I was very surprised when I came here and people were kind to me, but I've found it easy enough to be kind in turn.

[she smiles.]

It's no trouble. I should keep more of the treated cloth on hand, anyway.

[she doesn't mind working in glover lover's basement workshop, except that it always makes her wonder what randa royce would have to say about the name glover lover and house glover of deepwood motte.]

[hearthebell]

It would be better if I could kick the curse, truly, instead of making more work for you. You'll always let me know the ways I can make less, I hope.

[And he does try. His dishes get cleaned instead of left by the sink, and though his books can be scattered around for an entire afternoon, they're always stowed by evening. His habit of cramming everything into his backpack and actually utilizing wardrobe and drawer space is proving difficult to break, however, and his scant efforts to play handyman have ended poorly.

He's pretty sure he made a leaky faucet much, much worse.]

[dohaeris]

[another little laugh.]

Figuring out your curse would certainly help. I'm sure you've solved greater mysteries.

[she does not know about the leaky faucet. she makes it a point not to go in any of the rooms on the second floor unless asked, it's all very embarrassing and none of her business. he should really get someone to fix that.]

Perhaps Bausphomette means to stop you burning out like a rushlight, and you've made great progress already by going to a party. [she pauses.] With a friend.

[hearthebell]

Different mysteries; not necessarily greater ones.

[He's the last to claim, truly, that this isn't difficult. Looking within isn't easy on the best of days, even for men greater than he is, and he's never gotten properly in the habit of trying to do so.

The faucet will leak until he figures it out.]

I'm... here with several friends, no?

[He doesn't quite catch her meaning.]

[dohaeris]

[she recalls that he hadn't been familiar with affectionate teasing perhaps a little too late.]

Yes, but you arrived with one in particular. That's exciting.

[she drops her voice to a half-whisper.]

I'm teasing you, to show that we're friends.

[hearthebell]

[It connects when she mentions that they arrived together. They'd also arrived hand-in-hand; L perhaps believes that he's been much discreeter about things than he truly has, especially with Shoyo's irrepressible tendencies and temperament.]

Because he's my friend, and a bit more than that? That's why?

[dohaeris]

[sansa laughs in delight; acknowledging a relationship is a very big deal in westerosi high society, and this is an attitude she finds difficult to shake.]

Yes! Now I can be happy for you! That's wonderful!

[she glances at the ground as if she's looking for a place to sit. it is a little unfortunate that the blanket must be wet.]

Rushlights burn out too quickly, I don't know if you know them. Candles last longer, because they have more wax to support them.

[she's trying to articulate a metaphor for burnout, but is perhaps not entirely capable of getting there herself at the moment. another metaphor?]

[hearthebell]

[From what L has read, he can piece together why this is significant, and also delightful, for Sansa. His own smile spreads, emboldened by the positive reaction.]

Thank you, truly... I've never had something like that to announce before.

[And as relationships go, so far it's quite a chaste one. Both he and Shoyo have dedicated their young lives to other matters, and are fumbling through what might be expected of a relationship as though they were many years younger, by the relatively coddled standards of their worlds as opposed to one like Sansa's.]

Through context, I think I understand your meaning.

[It's not the first time he's heard something like that. A bulb burning twice as brightly, burning twice as fast; men like him tend not to live long or happily, but they leave such a legacy behind.]

Moving into the Rookery has helped, you know. I didn't realize how much energy I was expending just trying to keep on top of my moving schedule until it ceased.