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

emil västerström ▶ closed

[enflame]

▶ closed to lalli;

❰ emil has come to the party late, having taken some time for himself after the shaking discovery of his purpose in this place. asgard was an initially rude awakening, but the reasoning behind being there...well, it was still kind of shaky in his mind, but he was allowed to live life there with happenstances affecting him, sometimes negatively. but they weren't purposeful or cruel, just events that happened and he suffered from as a natural cause and effect.

being used as some sacrifice over and over again is ludicrous. it's frightening. to die again, and know that it's basically inevitable, shakes him to his core. he hasn't seen any of his friends die, and that's inevitable too now. that's...

-- no. rehashing it for the eightieth time will do him no good, even if receiving an invitation to a party in the middle of this crisis has put him in a sour mood. maybe that's hypocritical of him -- he's here now, isn't he?

whether or not lalli is here, he doesn't know. a bottle of booze is grabbed off a table without much investigation (after consuming what amounted to lighter fluid in asgard, he can't imagine whatever he's picked will be worse than that experience), and he quickly scans the thin crowd. nope, no sign of him. but lalli does like a hiding place, so seeking emil will go.

he finds his target under the third table he's whose cloth he's flipped, nonchalantly crawling under with his prized bottle dragging the ground in one of his hands. ❱

I can't believe he's throwing a party in the middle of all this. ❰ actually he can, that seems like a very klaus thing to do, but he's grumpy right now. ❱

▶ closed to klaus;

❰ for some reason, emil has come out from his hiding place with lalli under one of the tables. walking is something of a challenge, as the world went from existing on a horizontal plane to...reality. real. he can't think of how to describe moving through the party is right now, except that he somehow accomplishes it without much injury -- only a stubbed toe on a stray chair leg that leapt out at him, there's no other explanation.

his bottle of booze has been left somewhere, so it's just emil by his lonesome staring out at the lake. he's forgetting why he felt it so important to leave, but staring at the water is oddly entrancing right now. the thoughts of death and suffering ebb in and out of his mind, vague and staticy while the alcohol fights very hard to keep them suppressed.

this probably isn't the wisest idea; he's almost lost his balance a few times just standing there. he can swim, but drunk? maybe something to be avoided. ❱

points to eyes, points to u (i'm sorry, emil)

[channellings]

[poor emil never stood a goddamn chance the moment klaus spotted him sitting there, unaware.

as soon as he had, he'd slammed what was left of his good ole macrobrew beer, tossed the can over his shoulder and rubbed his hands together, preparing for the inevitable. then he makes his way across the rocks to the swede, maybe even levitates over a couple of steps to avoid excess pain on his feet, but once he's close enough, this drunken dumbass greets his friend simply with,] Hello, Blondie.

[and moves to scoop emil up without missing a beat, striding his way toward the lake despite the tiny voice in the back of his head screaming no, don't do it! because he, too, isn't thinking about the consequences of alcohol plus swimming. it's blatantly ignored while he keeps going until he's ankle-deep in the water then klaus – for lack of better words – telekinetically (gently!) tosses them straight into the lake.]

[enflame]

❰ his reflexes are too dulled to immediately make a fuss, shocked at being picked up and lagging behind in his outrage. he doesn't start thrashing and yelling until klaus is already at the water, feet in the lake. unlucky enough for him, he's mid yell as they impact the surface of the water, the second wave of surprise hitting him as his mouth and throat fill, sinking with his friend.

after some struggling, emil breaks free of klaus and flops to the surface after some intense pushing and praying that he can avoid drowning. he can barely seen in the dark, coughing and sputtering while simultaneously fighting going back under. can he swim? yes. can he swim drunk and surprised? barely.

after much effort, he finds something to grab -- the briney leg of a dock. he had accidentally pushed further into the lake instead of moving closer to the shore, but ah well. a place to pull himself is better than treading water.

once klaus is there as well, emil squeezing water out of his clumping hair, he's given a very dark and angry look. ❱

You're such a bastard.

[channellings]

[alright, maybe it would've been nicer to give him a better warning of “hold your breath?” but klaus's inebriated and thought emil might have heard him coming, so that one is on him. it's fine, he knows cpr (mostly) and will be able to save emil from drowning (???) if that is the case.

he holds his breath, of course, shuts his eyes as they land in the lake then loosens his arms to let emil swim free, though not without giving him the slightest push toward the surface. see? he isn't all bad, just most definitely a bastard.

a couple moments later, klaus surfaces too, bobbing side-to-side while watching his friend, eyes half-lidded with amusement. emil's gonna be upset, he can feel it, but that doesn't hinder him from swimming closer to hear him better.] Yeah, yeah, tell me something I don't know. [he moves an arm, flicks his wrist just right and sends a golfball-sized water projectile toward the swede's shoulder.]

Worry not, princess, I wouldn't have let you drown.

[enflame]

❰ the projectile hits emil and he flinches, even if it didn't hurt. it just surprised him; even the sobering dip in the lake hasn't brought all of his reflexes back. with a roll of his eyes, emil hoists himself up after a few slippery attempts, finally enough of his body on the dock for leverage.

once situated, he conjures an orb of flame, about the size of a dinner plate in width. he'd like to use it to dry off, but it's also comforting.

and don't expect him to help you up, klaus. ❱

I know. ❰ the answer is very delayed, like he'd just remembered to offer up some kind of response. with nothing to really think about again, his mind flows back to despondence and need for distraction. ❱ Your party a success?

[channellings]

[klaus stays bobbing where he's at for now, waiting until emil hauls his ass outta the water then he swims backward somewhat, lifts himself – with both his arms and the slightest help from telekinesis – to clamber up onto the dock and sprawl out beside his friend.

see? didn't expect it and totally did not need it. (let's be real, he would've without the superpower boost.)

attention mostly focused on the fireball, he tilts his head, twists around so he's propped on his elbows, lifts his chin just enough to consider emil.] I think so, [comes the (surprisingly) truthful answer followed by equally sincere questions,]

What about you, though? Did you have any fun?

[enflame]

❰ emil's head shakes, rotating the ball in his hands just for something to idly do. for as disdainful as it feels in theory to be celebrating, he also sees the appeal in drinking more, trying to find any way to distract himself from the prickling anxiety inside.

it isn't just one singular event that concerns him; he could move past that and then be relieved it was over. no, it's instead the whole purpose of being here, and thus existing in general feels very...prickly at this moment. ❱

I don't know how anyone could have fun knowing what we know now.

[channellings]

[there's truth in that for real; klaus is even considering getting up and stumbling his way back for more alcohol, even if he shouldn't. not right this moment though, considering emil's state, the way he's obviously upset they'll all be suffering. (or dying! don't forget that lovely part, either.)

perhaps he can't control those things here, but he sure as hell is going to do his best and make certain his friends don't die.] Hey, [klaus murmurs, gently nudging his knuckles against emil's side.]

I'm not going to let anything happen to you guys, alright?

[enflame]

❰ the reassurance does nothing but deflate emil. that is an empty promise, and he knows it deep in his mind, even if he wishes he could cling to it like some golden truth. he doesn't even have the energy to panic at the endless possibilities for torture or demise right now.

instead, he's holding back from saying 'you know that's not true.' the person most dedicated to keeping him alive watched emil die before, through no fault of his own, and that's just...how it was, how it is, how it might be. death can happen, and it can happen to any of them, as much as they might not want it to.

he sighs, vanishing his orb to grab at his dripping sleeve, ringing out water onto the already dampened dock. the subject has to be changed before he sobers enough to ruminate on this more. ❱

Do anything salacious at this party of yours? ❰ because that is something he'd rather talk about this, that's the position he is in right now. ❱

[channellings]

[suffering is one thing, death is something else altogether and that's the one he's more looking to prevent. because sure, torture sucks, but dying is far worse— not to mention, klaus isn't keen on the idea of possibly seeing his friend die a second time.

regardless, the promise won't be an empty one, so long as he's alive to make certain. (funny, he didn't even consider that until right now, of course.) once the fireball disappears and leaves them without its warm glow, he shivers faintly, rolls his shoulders then shakes his head in an attempt to brush off the uncomfortable sensation. as long as i'm around to prevent shit from happening, goddamn it.

he huffs a soft laugh, moves around on the dock, sits beside emil with his legs crisscrossed and his hands in his lap.] Maybe something considered gross, but nothing salacious. Wow, who do you take me for?

[enflame]

❰ it might not be possible for klaus to see the unsure glance that emil sends him in the darkening evening, but he for sure received one. you know who you are, klaus...they both know. ❱

I figured if you were going to throw a party, you'd really throw yourself into it.

❰ not that emil has fully seen klaus get really into the groove of things, but again. he knows who he's dealing with here. ❱

You're much more sober than I thought you'd be.

[channellings]

[perhaps not, but klaus is well-aware it's there and they do both know him, after all. for now though, his attention stays put on the edge of the dock; eye-contact isn't the best idea despite it already being damn near impossible, anyway.]

I was more drunk earlier, [he admits, giving the faintest shrug.] Sobered up a little because— [does he really want to give emil this kinda fodder to use against him? eh, it seems fair after all the trouble he's given the swede.]

Because Rhys and I talked. Really ‘sealed the deal,’ as it were.

[enflame]

❰ use against him? wow, oh ye of little faith.

well. perhaps it could be something used against him if emil knew what the hell is going on. ❱

Sealed what deal? ❰ it's a question asked with utmost sincerity. are they going into business somehow...? ❱

[channellings]

[hey, he's only assuming he'll get as good as he gives and it's fair in emil's case! though klaus could've perhaps worded it differently since his friend seems outrightly confused by the turn of phrase.] The deal, yeah?

[but as he takes a better look at emil, it dawns on him he truly doesn't get it.] We're officially boyfriends now.

[skittering]

( of course emil found him. he's arguably one of the two people here who might know where to look, and though he's been giving emil the space that the swede seemed to want at the moment, that doesn't mean he hasn't strategically placed himself at the one event he thought might (by way of alcohol) lure emil out of his solitude. he'd find lalli when he's ready to do so, and that time seems to have come.

he scoots to make room, but only barely - there's no real need to establish any sort of personal space, not with emil of all people. in fact, once emil settles, lalli's own crossed legs settle in such a way that rests a knee against emil's thigh, and he sets one of the snacks scavenged from above (some sort of cheese on a cracker) on his partner's knee.

the grumpy disbelief has the finn humming, lifting a shoulder a little. ) Not hurting anybody, ( he says, because it's true - aside from possibly burning through rations (which there's no indication of running short so far), the party only seems to be lifting spirits... or something. but of course, for solidarity's sake, ) Still stupid.

[enflame]

❰ his legs stretch out in front of him, back resting against a leg of the table. he accepts the offering of food; the casual touching is normal enough that it's barely noticed.

he's finished chewing his snack, and now emil moves onto trying to open this bottle he has. what is it; he didn't even look -- he certainly grabbed a good one. the stare he gives it is a long one, wondering exactly what that has to imply about how whatever this is tastes.

oh well. he's not going back out there now. ❱

Mm. ❰ no. yes. at least they're in agreement. however, emil supposes klaus has his own way of coping with things...if that's perhaps what this is. he also appreciates emotional distraction as much as the next person, but being so public about it isn't really emil's thing. thus, being under the table is actually suiting him just fine.

the top is finally unscrewed from the bottle and he gives it a sniff before taking a long drink. it's...definitely not as bad as he imagined it might be. the sex part of it...no comment, but it's certainly not as beachy as he thought it might be. salty, sandy flavors are instead very fruity, even if that sharp sting of alcohol is still very apparent.

it's offered to lalli, though emil's face remains somewhat blank, not offering any sort of indication that this was a good or bad exprience. ❱ Want some?

[skittering]

( 'mm'? it's unusual that emil isn't in the mood to complain, or at least to say more than one hummed syllable, and that speaks volumes for the mood that the swede is in right now regardless of his vague attempt to seem unbothered.

lalli isn't entirely sure what to do with that. isn't sure how to help. he's not good at it, at people. emil's an exception, but not as much of one as he'd have liked right now as lalli watches him drink in the side of his eye. the liquid's red, so that's a good thing. in his experience, the alcohol with color is usually not as strong. emil will have to drink more of it to put himself in any real danger.

it's offered out to lalli with no cue as to whether he's being blessed or poisoned, but he dutifully takes it regardless, tipping the unwieldy bottle with both hands to funnel a bit of it into his mouth.

it's not awful. he peers at the bottle now, reading the words. 'sex on the beach.' ) Didn't know that had a flavor.

[enflame]

It's oddly specific. ❰ he's certainly not had enough to make him drunk, it's one swallow. but suddenly there's something comical about it. is it the beach that makes it tastes like fruit? would the sex being anywhere else make it taste different? it's so stupid -- something klaus would find immaturely funny, maybe, which makes him laugh, lightly but with humor.

and in all honesty, there's probably nothing anyone could do to set emil's mind at total ease in this moment; it has nothing to do with any sort of deficit lalli has in how to handle a situation. he's doing great -- all emil needs is for him to be there.

a hand extends to grab it back. if there is one blessed thing about this party, it's that it's an excuse to have alcohol around. tonight, he'd like to consume a lot of it. ❱ I'm not complaining -- anything is better than that swill in Asgard. ❰ it was strong stuff, but took so much more getting used to. right now his mouth is already coated in some sweet taste, from some produce he probably can't even specifically name, and that's certainly an upgrade. ❱

[skittering]

( it truly is oddly specific, and he's not entirely positive what part of the flavor reminds anyone of any part of the title. maybe it's something you're supposed to drink while you're-... well, that.

(they're drinking it now regardless, here under this table. if all emil needs is for him to be here, then he will be.)

at the reaching hand, he dutifully passes it back. )

Didn't a demon make that? ( if he sounds dry and skeptical, it's because it's a sentence he never thought he'd have to say, but he distinctly recalls that being the case. a demon or a devil or some sort of angry spirit, he didn't pay all that much attention at the time. )

[enflame]

I think so...maybe we should have been more concerned, in hindsight.

❰ well, he should have been, since he instigated the whole thing. emil drinks easily; it's so much easier to down alcohol when it tastes like...something. something not akin to lighter fluid. it doesn't cross his mind that this is a more dangerous game to play.

the bottle is sat down between them -- if anyone wants more, they're free to have some. emil will want more, and probably be greedy about it.

as a matter of fact, he's not letting it sit still for very long. even if lalli makes a motion for it so the back and forth continues, emil takes another sip, contemplative, before returning it. it was awful, but he misses the asgard alcohol. he'd rather drink something basically poisonous and be back there than something good in...this hellhole. ❱

I never thought we would leave. ❰ the somber tone is hard to ignore in his voice. his whole life had already been upended, even if it turned out to feel like it was for the better. now it's happened again, and it only feels like it's for the worse. ❱

[skittering]

( every so often, lalli does indeed claim the bottle - maybe not as often as emil, but he can't let the swede empty the bottle by himself. that's how you kill a man, letting him drink a whole bottle of something by themselves. he's not seen it happen, but someone in the next village over died that way in his last few years in saimaa. he's not going to let emil do the same. even if that bottle was probably much stronger than this one.

even if those who die here supposedly come right back.

'i never thought we would leave.' only as he hears it does lalli realize he'd thought the same. they'd been there so long. long enough to lose each other and find each other and build a home and raise a cat who turned out pretty alright as far as cats go, even if she still lays on her prey once she kills it. sometimes even before she kills it. lalli's not sure where she got that. it's a very mikkel thing to do, to sit on something until it dies.

but while part of him (a strong part, but still only part) thought they'd never leave, the rest knew that one day they would. one day, they'd go back to a place in which they don't remember asgard. a place in which they can't speak to one another outside of their dreams, and they don't remember that they ever could. a place where they've never shared a home, only a tank and emil's subconscious, and they likely never will. they'll go their separate ways, stupid and ignorant, memories stolen away as if they never existed in the first place. )

Better here than where we came from. ( a statement he stands by, even knowing that this place was built to kill them all. )

[enflame]

❰ it's a very hard statement to stomach, but...it does ring true in some ways. if he had to choose between the three worlds, asgard would in hands down. but if that was taken off the table, and he had to choose. hmm.

the silent world is a devil he knows, but he remembers that there was a potential to forget everything upon going back to where you originally came from once taken out of it. a slate wiped so clean, and he's gained oh so much over the course of this time he's been away from his old home. so much that he admitted and stood by not seeing it as home anymore.

and the other choice, all of that kept...but potentially lost, over and over again. maybe it's sensible to grow numb and used to deaths and suffering that become cyclical, but he remembers dying once. to have to experience it numerous times, and to see others go through it...that might hurt so much more. what if it's a sick and twisted lie, part of the suffering to be created. you gear yourself up for someone to come back, and they don't. or some duplicate, a technicality they pass off as a promise.

but this is a lot to slosh around in his brain. many thoughts that swirl, and holding onto one concrete one at the moment is over-stimulating and makes his stomach preemptively churn. his phantom head wound also throbs slightly, but he doesn't dare go to touch it when lalli is around. ❱

At least there's alcohol. Flavored alcohol. And ice cream. And the cat. ❰ it's better to think positively, push it down and force something good up instead. emil leans precariously, finding a stopping point for his head against lalli's shoulder. ❱ I'm sure that shack is crawling with mice so Nukka will be thrilled. Not that I will be when there's a squished rat or two on the bed.

[skittering]

( those are all good-ish things, lalli can agree. the alcohol helps at times like these, and the ice cream is too cold but tastes good unless it's mustard.

and there's emil. an emil he remembers properly. an emil who now nearly unseats his balance to lean against lalli's shoulder, and the finn anchors his opposite hand on the grass to brace against the extra weight. without any real thought or hesitation, he presses the lower half of his face to the swede's hair in welcome, sighing into it as emil complains about squished rats in their bed. )

I'll get rid of them. ( perhaps it's the alcohol, but it's far too sound soft and fond right now, especially when the words are hummed against the other man's hair. )

[enflame]

❰ the promise of this chore being completed and the returned touch makes emil smile dumbly, leaning into it all the more with a tilt of his head. there's also something so comical about his ridiculous cat, lying somewhere on the bed with a 50/50 chance of a squished rodent underneath her once picked up. it's so gross, with no idea of why or how she picked up this behavior, but also...well, it's comical, and he sucks in a laugh. ❱

She reminds me of you. ❰ it's not the most flattering thing to say after talking about her compulsion for sitting on dead animals, but it's just so...very lalli-like. ❱ Stubborn...attached. Soft. ❰ because he is, so unexpectedly. ❱

[skittering]

( 'she reminds me of you.' above emil's tidy mop of hair, the finn's brow knits slightly. reminds him how? because she's a skilled hunter? 'stubborn,' emil supplies, and lalli decides he'll allow it. 'attached.' he also can't deny that one. but 'soft' has his nose wrinkling. )

'M not soft. ( spoken as if it's a particularly gross bug he's flicked off his sleeve. )