vestigelogs | lake party invite + mingle (open)

Entry tags:

lake party invite + mingle (open)

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.)]

Threaded | Flat

[It's been a few days after his rescue from the too tall tree and he's mostly stuck close to the organizer of this wonderful party. While he's had a little wander on his own, it's easier, and safer, to stick to what he knows. He knows the Klaus saved him and that two people are better than one if something bad happens.

Now there's definitely more than two people and he'd probably be mingling more if he wasn't absolutely melting in his robes. It's hot as hell and these are thick, but he's tried to not give in and be indecent. If anything his trusty paper fan never leaves his hand, going as fast he can manage without dislocating his wrists.

Don't mind him having a look at the table of food and drinks. Perhaps that's what he needs. A drink! That'll help cool him down. There's an odd assortment of cups near the drinks and he'll grab one without really looking at it. Then it's grabbing the first bottle that catches his eye, it's bright blue and has words on it, but the words aren't that important. More so cause they don't really mean anything to him. What's a vodka? Pouring some Huaisang almost wonders if he's just found water, but then as he brings it closer to his face. Oof. That's. That's not water. Fan folded up and set beside him, he'll take a cautious sip and makes the face of someone pretty sure he's not enjoying this at all.]

Augh, what is that?!

[Vodka, sweetie.]

( you bet this motherfucker is in and out of the water for most of the party. he's stripped down to his bottom-most layers (a plain red undershirt with long sleeves rolled up, a pair of thin deep-grey trousers rolled up similarly) and can be found:

( a ) surveying the early party-attendees for a moment as if weighing something in his head. then, cupping hands around his mouth, he calls, ) A quick question! Who here is the cock-licker? ( little does he realize how immensely nonspecific this might actually be.

( b ) in the water, quite possibly participating in some sort of balloon or beach ball nonsense. if he happens to see someone heading into range, he'll most certainly call out a - ) Hey! ( and bat it in their general direction. guess they're playing now, huh?

( c ) dripping wet and raiding the alcohol. maybe he bumps into you by mistake! maybe he knows you - if he does, expect a horrible wet arm draped over your shoulder like the shithead he is. alternatively, maybe this is his third or fourth trip (he's fine, this much booze is an average weekday) and he's scoping out the options he hasn't tried, turning to whoever stands next to him to ask, ) What am I drinking next? ( but before they open their mouth, he holds up a finger to add, ) And don't tell me if it's delicious or awful. I like a surprise.

( or ( d ) on a branch of the dock, lying on his back, a different bottle of fruity alcohol in each hand. a foot hangs over the edge, kicking idly at the water. his eyes watch the sky, not particularly seeing it. if he hears someone coming, he lifts his chin to peer at them upside-down, then flashes a greeting grin regardless of whether or not he knows them. one of the drinks is offered up, because - ) Have you tried these? They're like candy.

Edited 2020-07-10 08:36 (UTC)

[ Green got the invitation for the party on his phone-- though he's not quite sure what sort of party it'll be, considering the username of the one sending out the invitation-- but he's decided to come see what the fuss is all about. He doesn't eat or drink, so the food and alcohol tables largely get ignored. He doesn't swim, either, so mostly what he's done is sat himself in a chair by the edge of the lake, and take off his shoes and socks so as to not get them wet, tucking them under his chair and sitting with his feet in the water. He can't feel it, of course, but it seems like a nice thing to do.

He'll look up and smile if anyone comes to sit by him, feeling in the mood to make some new friends. ]

Hullo. It's a nice day, isn't it? [ He knows, logically, that the day isn't all that "nice," being entirely too hot and given the fact that they are all trapped in a mystery forest that likely wants to kill them or something else spectacularly awful, but... he can dream. ]

▶ 𝕠𝕟𝕖

❰ yanli suddenly both does and doesn't understand why wei wuxian likes to drink so much. she's downed a four loko, thin and inexperienced frame feeling the effects immediately.

and thus, yanli is very obvious in this crowd. she hasn't shed her robes from home, and she's laughing into her hands on occasion, wiping tears from her eyes at whatever funny thing she's come up with in her head. her relationships with gravity are standing up straight are also tenuous at the moment, as she wavers and stumbles about. it's very likely that she's fallen onto you, back or front -- but she's not lost her politeness, no matter how drunk she may be. ❱

I'm sorry! ❰ an effort is made to stand up, but that...isn't going very well, oops. ❱

Edited 2020-07-11 21:04 (UTC)

text response to invitation

You clutter our phones with this garbage?

at the party

[ Jiang Cheng does not want to be at this nonsense waste of his time of a beach party, thank you very much. Yet here he is, since he needs to inform Klaus in person of his idiocy. And while he is here, he is going to take some of that alcohol for his own use.

Thus, no surprise, his first stop is the alcohol collection, which has already grown to respectable size by that time. He opens a couple of bottles and sniffs at them, wrinkling his nose and scoffing in distaste when a smell fails to find his approval. He will be busy for quite a while there, picking his choice of poison is important business when you know barely any of the drinks on offer.

After the alcohol choice is made and Klaus has been tracked down for the intended hollering, he can be found wandering around a little here and there, distinctly standing out as the resident stick in the mud in his full purple robes.

He’s going to get right to the edge of the water where people are splashing and having fun, blissfully unaware that this might be a perfect to get him wet, or even yank him into the water. Why, he might even have fun there. Perish the thought. ]

( the problem, when enfys arrives at the lakeside, surveying the assembled with friendly interest, is that several things are competing to be the most noticeable thing about her.

there is, for instance, the fact she isn't wearing any pants. or, in uk parlance, she isn't wearing anything except pants: boy-leg cut, emblazoned with a vintage batman design in yellow and purple. there is the tshirt she's tied at her waist, plain dark-grey from the front and sporting the slogan GET OFF MY DICK across the back, partially readable where the knot in the front hasn't pulled it too taut and folded. there's the scarring, visible from her abdomen and disappearing up underneath the knot of her tshirt, which looks nasty and extensive and suspiciously like claw-marks where it isn't clearly surgical. there is the ponytail, french-braided from the nape of her neck and pulled high and tight and somehow still falling to her waist, thick and nearly black; from behind, were she wearing literally anything else, she'd fit right in with several current party-goers. there's the height, a respectable 5'10" in currently bare feet, making her difficult to miss. there's the fact she's definitely not wearing a bra and gravity has apparently been paid not to notice.

and then, of course, there's the axe. )

Oi, oi! ( she sticks the fingers of her free hand in her mouth and whistles— ) Am I drinking this fucking beer by myself?

( a lochaber axe is really more of a polearm; the sturdy shaft is six feet long, with a sharp spike balancing the crescent axe-blade of a foot and a half at the top of the weapon. there's a wicked-looking hook at the back of it,

from which is dangling a six pack. )

arriving late;

[ His dad told him that sometimes he'd talk to his dead wife as a means of mourning. It sounds like a good way to make yourself crazy, to Luke, who still finds himself arriving at the party in part because he thinks that his dead sister would want him to. And she would point out something like it's probably a good idea to make sure anyone knows you exist besides that one lady and her dog, and someone on the forum who only knows you as 'bad.at.drawing'.

But he probably needs to cut that out.

Later. Because for right now, he happens to agree, so while the party is already in a state of swing, Luke arrives. He is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers, and has brought his contribution to the party in the form of a loaf of sliced bread he'd defrosted last night, and a jar of peanut butter, and a jar of pickles.

He sets these down, maybe mutters a 'hey' or 'how you doing' to whoever glances his way, and keeps his head down. The alcohol is all expected and he doesn't so much as glance at is, picking up an off-brand bottle of soda and squinting at the label. ]

people watching;

[ Luke finds the furthest most chair along the waterfront, sits there, and nurses his soda.

And observes. He is perfectly content to do this, watching groups form and unform and reform. He notes, a little, who is drinking a lot and who is not, as a matter of habit. He does not try to flag the attention of anyone having a good time, but he might nod in a sympathetic manner if he sees someone a little like himself, off to the side.

Eventually, he watches the lake, and feels the sun off the back of his neck. ]

leaving early;

[ Eventually, it becomes enough sun, enough noise, enough people. Luke matter of factly plucks up a few of the untouched food items on the table, the kind no one's really going to crack into at a party, bundles them under his arm, and starts heading away for the forest. ]

(tentatively) showing up;

[after receiving the invitation, sizhui's initial reaction is to ignore it, but the temptation of food, drinks and maybe something to do that isn't wandering the perimeter along the honeycomb barrier or pacing the cabin would be good. gets him outside in the fresh air and is technically an excuse to see what might lurk within the lake (because he doesn't buy that it's safe! ridiculousness).

so, following a quick raid of the refrigerator – which is still an utterly foreign yet fascinating concept to him – he arrives with both arms full (and in all his lan clan garb), sword strapped against his back for easier mobility. tubes of potato crisps, various fruits, lunchmeat and bread are what he brings to the snack table, setting each one up as neat as possible before he decides he'll get a quick scope on some people already there.

meaning he very well could be caught looking a little too long, whether it's something someone's doing or an odd t-shirt they're wearing with whatever written across it. either way, the moment sizhui realizes he's been caught, he offers a quiet,] Sorry, [then sheepishly inclines his head with shame before straightening back up.] I— I didn't mean to stare.

refreshments;

[aside from what he brought, sizhui helps himself to some of the other things on the table; a prepackaged thing of snackcakes, other-flavored potato crisps, and eventually a sandwich someone else has made. (ingenious, putting the bread and meat together!) the one object he's got his hands on at the moment is proving rather difficult to open. will you help or simply watch him struggle?

because in the end, if he can't figure the tab out, you can bet he's found a way to stab the mouthpiece open and is now cautiously considering the bizarre, bubbling drink in his hands. it smells funny, almost... alcoholic? though he can't get past the fizz tickling his nose long enough to contemplate that further, he takes a drink from the can anyhow—

holds the bubbly liquid on his tongue, wrinkles his nose with bafflement then, albeit reluctantly, swallows.] That's... [different? weird? somewhat uncomfortably sharp going down?] ...interesting.

[watch him take another sip though since he is truly intrigued by the carbonation.]

near the water;

[most of sizhui's examining the lake is from the safety of the dock. he's accepted the fact it's far too hot for all his layers and has peeled off his first one, leaving him in simple white robes with the sleeves bound tight. those might end up being the next thing to go, but until then, they're staying because he isn't keen on losing more clothes than he has to.

after ultimately deciding the water is safe enough, he won't get in right away, although he does remove his boots and stick his toes out, tracing across the lake's surface. there may even be a chance to catch him hanging off by his elbows, feet kicking thoughtlessly, but not wildly.

go ahead, give him a nudge.]

[ || A. Arrival

[ Without any indication of when the party is, Naminé has quite a lot of opportunity to waffle about whether or not being a geometric shape is preferable to the alternative of accepting a thoroughly vague invitation from an unknown source. Really, though, what else is she supposed to do? It might serve to help her take stock of who is and isn't trapped in here along with her, if nothing else.

But never having been to a party before, she's not entirely prepared for it. She's not even really prepared for how many people are there the first time she spots it forming, somewhat by accident and from a great enough distance that she only feels a little awkward about stopping to look before she leaps. Paused in the shadow of a tree, she's likely quite visible where she is, what with the paleness of her clothing and hair against the darker trunk.

Clearly there's nothing to worry about here. Just some lonesome figure in the distance in a suspiciously ghost-like white dress creeping on the festivities in an enclosed murderbox that's already expressed vague supernatural threats. ]

[ || B. Arrival (Take Two)

[ But fortunately a bit of reconnaissance informs her that people are - apparently - bringing food. She does a little backtracking, picks up a small box of ice cream bars (and a bag of chips as an afterthought), and with these in hand does her best not to draw attention to herself as she shuffles in to put them down with the rest of the offerings.

And after that she's... there. That's about the most that can be said of her while she hangs uncertainly around the periphery of the party, lurking like she's not entirely sure she was actually invited. Maybe it's got to do with how many people there are. That is to say, not many by the standards of just about anyone who's lived in a populated world with regular social events, but for her - it's probably the largest number of humans (or humanoids) she's been in the physical presence of at one time in her entire life. Cut her some slack, it's a little overwhelming.

Still, she looks awfully lonely over there, tucked against a tree or curled up on the edge of the dock. (She stays too far back from the water to actually put her feet into it; they said the lake was safe, but...) ]

[ || C. Refreshments

[ Nobody or not, Naminé remains a teenager who needs sustenance every now and again. So although she's somewhat reluctant to venture closer to the snacks with strangers about, eventually she braves the harrowing trek (of a few steps) to explore the options. Most of it is either foreign to her or unappealing, but eventually something catches her eye. When she goes to reach for it, though -- well, it's not even that someone else is reaching for the same thing so much as she notices that someone else is there. She pauses mid-grab, hand pulling back a little too quickly to look nonchalant, as if she's half-expecting to be scolded.

There's no verbal apology, but those sure are some guilty eyes she's giving whoever it is that's shown up, despite them likely having done nothing to offend. ]

[ || D. Wildcard

[ Choose your own adventure. ]

A. At the tables

[ While Rhys might be kind of useless when it comes to survival, at least when it comes to some things, living on Pandora and rebuilding Atlas and Promethia and then fighting his worst corporate war has taught him a thing or two. And he has definitely taken stock of the food found at least in his cabin and thought about the lack of other inhabitants as well as hosts that seem invested in their well-being and, well … Not that he's opposed to throwing a party in unfavorable situations and it seems like an as good opportunity as any to get to know each other, he can't help but think that a refreshments table is a questionable idea.

That's why, rather than take anything, he's staring at the table with a thoughtful frown, arms crossed. ]

How much food do we have?

[ No, he's not really talking to anyone in particular, but if you happen to overhear him … Thoughts? ]

B. At the lake

[ They're calling it a beach party? He's barely gone a few steps within the lakeshore since they arrived, because he's already decided that he trusts nothing around here. Especially considering the state of the cabins and the scarce information they've received. And he thought Asgard was suspicious.

Since they're here now, though, and he's not alone, he's taking the opportunity to actually walk over to the water's edge and stare into the depths. Or try to. Not like he could actually see much from here. Also, if anyone happens to be in the water, he'll be squinting at them too. ]

Wouldn't be surprised if some monster would burst out of the surface and swallow us whole.

[ What do you mean it's just a lake? Nothing is certain. If a giant dragon can crawl out of the earth, a huge fish with sharp teeth can swim out of a lake. ]

C. Wildcard

i. arrival
[Fran, for once, had decided to leave Mister Midnight at home. He probably wouldn't like being down by the lake anyway, and she's scared he might chase something off into the woods and get hurt.

She doesn't know anyone yet, so she walks up to the first person she sees, hand outstretched in greeting.] Hello! My name is Fran. It's nice to meet you.

ii. by the lake
[The water really does look inviting. Maybe a little unsettling, but that's surely only because she can't see the bottom. Surely.

Fran's still in her dress, but what does that matter? She kicks off her shoes and socks and runs full speed down the dock, jumping into the water with a whoop of utter delight]

iii. refreshments
[It doesn't seem like the usual party fair, but Fran won't complain. Food is food, after all! And someone was nice enough to put this all together. So she grabs a plate and starts picking out a few things to eat.]

▶ 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. ❱

i. lakeside

[ eliot is here, because of course eliot is here. he has a phd in partying, after all, especially when it's partying while something else considerably more important is occurring adjacent, like the fact that they all appear to be trapped inside some huge fuckoff electric fence! he refuses to indulge the horror that is graphic t-shirts, especially not after the last few months where he was equally trapped in those, thank you very much, and as such has made do as well as one can with making all black summer friendly. specifically: his shoes and socks are gone, his dress pants and sleeves rolled up to just below the knee and elbow, respectively (looking, somehow, like they were tailored to exactly that length??), vest and jacket folded neatly beside the several chairs he has dragged together to form a lounger fit for a person verging on six and a half feet tall.

this already ridiculous tableau has been topped off by a tattered umbrella stamped with what appear to have once been carebears; you can't have his flawless complexion, sun!!!!!!!

he seems, and perhaps is, mostly asleep. perhaps you would like to come by and inquire about any of these absurd details? or admire the fact that his shirt's buttons are like, undone to the sternum? maybe you just want to know where you can get one of those fruity drinks the size of his head, the ones that do not appear to exist at the snack table? or maybe you wish to invade his peaceful semi-slumber with lake water. eliot waugh is your oyster, party-goers. your ludicrously good looking oyster. ]

ii. refreshments table

[ eliot and gwen did not bring food to this enterprise; since when does a party need that? what they did bring, surprising probably no one who has encountered either of them for longer than it takes to say 'my god you're pretty,' is a quantity of alcohol that could put a liquor store to shame. all of it, alas, frankly terrible and named things like professor hotbod's cinnamon tequila.

naturally, even before they so much as left the house, eliot decided that was unacceptable, and upon arrival, extended that massive tidal wave of disdain to everything available. thus, before he descends into the aforementioned state of liquid, he is doing a public service by wandering down the drinks table, doing a series of complicated hand movements over various bottles and leaving them ......different colors? glowing?

the natural progression of this, of course, is that a little while later he appoints himself bartender, stopping anyone who will allow themselves to be stopped before reaching for any of the table's original offerings. ]

Allow me. Friends don't let friends drink - [ he examines the closest can ] Schloppy's Imitation Eggnog Schnapps.

iii. wildcard!

[ if it can be done at a beach...ish...party ...thing, eliot has probably done it at some point. gimme a prompt and we'll do a thing! ]

i. elsewhere

[ there is a tiny woman sitting on the steps of this adorable though currently much more run down house. if one were to guess, it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that a third of her total body weight is probably in the long, thick fishtail braid trailing over one shoulder, the rest anchored down by the impressive amount of gravity it must take to sustain the powerful lineface she's got going. a small blue ring flickers at her temple, occasionally dipping to yellow and cycling back again.

no one here will be as obnoxious as to tell her to smile, surely, but if they did, she would stab them.

that's purely hypothetical, however, and we are here to deal with reality! in reality, where no one is being stabbed, north and her braid and her line face are joined on the porch by a large stack of canned goods, ones that have been lined up and organized with such precision one might imagine a machine did it, along with a battered camping cooler full of perishables.

a sign sits near her feet, one declaring said goods to be FREE in the absolute most perfect penmanship anyone has ever seen.

please. please take them. north will just use the cans as projectiles. ]

ii. actually at the thing

[ wildcard me! let's get creative and see if together we can come up with a prompt where north is neither sunbathing, swimming, eating, drinking, nor socializing.

she is, however, definitely scowling. ]

Edited 2020-07-23 01:44 (UTC)

Threaded | Flat

Nie Huaisang | OTA

wei wuxian, ota

"Green Newman" | OTA

jiang yanli ▶ ota

Jiang Cheng

enfys eddings | open

luke crain. ota.