lake party invite + mingle (open)

[channellings]

Who: any and everyone!
Where: the lake and nearby!
When: right now! (july 7th, afternoon)
What: motha 👏 fuckin 👏 lake 👏 party
Warnings: Language (!!!) for now, will be added as needed!



[no, this is not a joke and yes, it's an actual invite to a party over the network from the username: cock.licking.idiot (and no, that's not a joke, either).

those who decide that they'd rather not be square will arrive at some unspecified patch of lake shore (thanks, klaus) at a similarly unspecified time (good work, asshat) to discover that something resembling a slapdash but heartfelt lake party along the northern waterfront. a couple of tables have been dragged out of nearby cabins and now hold a probably inadvisable quantity of foods, at least half of which don't belong at a party by any means. is this what rationing looks like? this is definitely what rationing looks like. there's also an alcohol table, filled pretty sparsely early on in the party but gathering bottles and cans throughout the day. (word of mod says feel free to wing it on what kind of alcohol we have!).

a number of chairs sit in a wobbly line in the stone-filled waterfront sand, most of them not meant for beachgoing but nearly all of them able to recline. about fifty feet down the beach seems to be the splash zone, where all water horseplay exists well out of range of splashing those sitting in beachside chairs. some people dive or cannonball off the mostly-sturdy pier, while others seem to be batting around a-... is that a beach ball they have? no, it seems to be a balloon that says "get well soon". how fitting. please, someone bring them a fucking beach ball.

(this is a mingle! go ahead and make top-levels or tag into other people's.)]

Comments

[lethechained]

[ There's no getting around the fact that she needs to smile more. Though she's volunteered nothing about her past, it seems to hang about her all the same, a sort of melancholy state of being that comes from a complicated story she has yet to tell. Something is going on there, that's not hard to see, even if the details are thoroughly obscure. Whatever it is, she really looks like she could use a laugh.

But her first and instinctive reaction to his moral outrage on her behalf is to try placate it. She opens her mouth to do just that, only to stop short in the face of his determination. Straightening slightly, she blinks at him, mouth round in surprise. (Now that's a familiar offer, isn't it--) Although she feels a swell of gratitude in her chest, she still has to fight the urge to tell him she's not the sort of person he ought to be looking after. Her past failings are set aside nevertheless; she could hardly begin to explain them all now. More importantly, which she says with a shake of her head, ]

If what they wrote on those papers is true, then anything else that happens here from now on could be very dangerous. You... and I, and all of us might not even be able to look after ourselves. I'll understand - if you need to protect yourself first.

[ Which means that she's worried about how providing such assistance might cause him to fare. The irony of it is that she intends to look after him as well; perhaps not return the favor with a sword, but in other ways. The uncertain future is a less pleasant topic than introductions, however, and she seems to grow slightly less tense at the rest of what he has to say. Her eyebrows raise as he cuts himself off, but the reason is obvious soon enough, and her quickly features grow sympathetic. ]

It's alright. [ And although she mislikes the fact of the matter, her voice is gentle; she tries to muster wryness rather than the subtle chill of dread that she actually feels, and largely succeeds. ] I can't remember yours, either.

So we'll just have to introduce ourselves again. [ Relaxing her grip on her hand, she raises it to flatten against her chest. ] My name is Naminé.

[ Her hand draws back again, fingers outstretching slightly as she tips it palm upward, as if his name were a physical thing it could take hold of. (Maybe this time she'll be able to remember it if she grasps tightly enough.) ]

And you are...?

[deferences]

[naminé, please, don't try and stop him when he's on the warpath; the ‘warpath’ being how people can't take a few seconds and not think about themselves for once. because yes, he understands that taking care of himself comes first, just like he'd expect her to do the same for herself, but the main reason sizhui would handle the former before the latter is only so he's well enough to make sure she doesn't get hurt in the long run. the courtesy will have come full-circle.

although, to be fair, she is right: the pamphlets said they'll be dealing with pain and suffering and gods, what might happen if he can't fight back? that is such an uncomfortable thought, he's going to pretend it didn't happen.]

I don't see any reason why I can't protect myself and you as well. Depending on the situation, perhaps we wouldn't be alone, either. I know some people here that would very likely come to our rescue.

[or at least his and thus hers in kind. most of the people he knows would be iffy about a stranger but again: this girl is obviously quite harmless and if she does have any instincts, ‘flight’ seems a more appropriate response for naminé than ‘fight.’ there are always other ways when it comes to helping too, it doesn't necessarily have to involve combat; healing is important and that virtually has no combative measures whatsoever.

it's lucky, the mirth in her tone comes through enough, sizhui's expression brightens into an outright grin.] As unfortunate as it is, I'm glad I'm not the only one.

[which earns a soft laugh afterward because of course, those memories are gone like a dandelion in the wind (except the seeds won't plant anywhere, just float off into nonexistence). he considers the upturned hand, offers the faintest head-tilt then straightens and dips forward into a bow. normally, he'd have lifted his arms and done it proper-like, but with the odd drink in his hand, it might be too awkward a motion.]

It's nice to meet you, Naminé. My name is Sizhui.

[lethechained]

[ Ah, he's a stubborn one. It's a recognizable kind of stubbornness, an insistence on doing right that she's come to associate with those heroic types that always seem to luck out in the end. Naminé herself is a very practical girl, one quite experienced in looking uncomfortable thoughts in the eye and wrestling ugly realities into some form of unfortunate manageability. As such, she can see plenty of reasons - some with teeth, some without - why he might not be able to accomplish both of his goals, but she carefully neglects to mention them.

Perhaps he'll prove her wrong again. In the meantime, Naminé elects to focus on the positive. ]

Oh...! [ There's a hint of delight in her audible epiphany, fine though it might be. ] Do you have friends here with you?

[ She looks glad about the mere possibility; one would almost think they were her friends, with how much she seems to like the idea that Sizhui isn't by himself. Not that she expects it'll be to her own benefit, or any such thing - no, she's just relieved any time someone else doesn't have to be lonely, whether she's a part of that or not.

And although she shares the sentiment about the misfortune of having forgotten something, she can admit freely enough, with gentle amusement, ] Me too.

[ (Even if she might have second-guessed saying as much if he hadn't done it first.) In any case, she accepts his introduction with a tiny inclination of her own head, then lets her hand come back to lace with its opposite in front of her. ]

It's very nice to meet you as well, Sizhui. [ Despite her slightly bashful tone, her mouth is upturned at the corners when she adds, ] I'll try not to forget any of it this time.

[ Now that she knows what to expect, she'll at least have a head start on tucking those memories away somewhere safe. ]