[MINGLE, ESPECIALLY TO NEWCOMERS] ROOFTOP FESTIVITIES!!!

[icanfixer]

WHO: All!
WHAT: Rooftop festivities!
WHERE: On a rooftop of an office building in the second open district!
WHEN: 8/14, evening!
WARNINGS: alcohol, tba as it goes


Banner displayed inside the train station, outside city hall, and on the most used residence buildings.

Follow the arrows.
So you're unaware. Maybe new. Or maybe you just didn't care the first time you saw it. That's fine. Between the banners hanging around key areas, and the flyers quickly drawn up in a similar fashion scattered across the city, it's hard not to know something is going on -- and there's helpful arrows, chalked on building walls and the streets the day of the party, to let people know where to go.

The Rooftop

A splendid scene awaits those who travel heavensward. Fairy lights connect the corners of the roof access building to metal poles at the corners of the building itself, lifted by cylindrical supports where needed, each one held straight by pots filled with well-packed dirty and stone. There's multicolored stars hanging from some of the lights, while various painted flowers hang on others, and what greets the ears first is some royalty free party music played from a CD player off the the side.

There's a long folded out table in the center for those who'd like to share cuisine, just set and serve yourself! Nearby is a space for Daan to do some bartending as well, a man who can make a multitude of cocktails and mocktails for those who want something less alcoholic. Also, pints of various ice cream flavors in a cooler!

Don't worry -- they won't have any odd effects on them, Don verified the lack of them herself. Not all of them are normal. Think loaded baked potato weird.

For those who'd like a quieter space, there's beanbags and a swirly, fuzzy carpet to sit on more away from the center of the party area. This'll be a great time to play some games, such as truth or dare, spin the bottle, and... whatever else you play at parties. Get to know your fellow man and such. Play the violin.

Naturally, no party... hosted... by Don Quixote would be without a space to fight, if one wishes to show off a little! It's also taking place on a swirly fuzzy carpet, just so no one smashes their head in, and there's a neat little banner hanging down from a string of lights that says thus:

WIN THREE MATCHES AND A PRIZE AWAITS THEE!!!!!!!
- NO KILLING
- HANDS ONLY

What the prize is, no one knows. But come find Don Quixote with your battle scars and she'll grant it -- and stick around a while, 'cause this party's gonna end with a bang... that is, with homemade fireworks donated by "a friend" through Junpei.

Anyway, have fun!!! Share words about your worlds!!! The society your characters are from, the cuisine they've brought, how they're working out in the city -- help the new kids along, too. There's more vets here now than there were a few months ago, after all.

Navi: Truth or Dare - Two Truths and a Lie - Hydra Storytelling w/Junpei - Drink Up With Daan - Qixi Festivites

Comments

[nomoresharks]

It's... certainly something that exists.

[And is lingering on both tongue and gums despite his every attempt to remove it. "Rich" implies a value he isn't yet certain of, and so he settles for considering it dense instead.]

I'm going to guess nutrition and portability were the only thoughts that went into its creation?

[Because boy oh boy if that's the case, it's imperative that no one in Amaurot learns of this culinary abomination.]

[shtola]

Paramount to all else, I'd say. In that, it's certainly accomplished its purpose.

( the regret is plain writ on his face, and now she feels the need to at least lend him a hand with that, so she glances around to search for the closest refreshment so dearly needed in the moment. it doesn't take long, and a cup of orange juice seems to be his prize, held out in offering.

maybe not the best idea to mix the tastes but... it'll wash it down? )

What was food like in your time?

( she's perused through quite the number of records in her time studying the anyder, but, she knows even that is a mere drop in the water. )

[nomoresharks]

[He drains the whole glass.

As she suspected, the combination of tastes is positively terrible, but he can at least hope the sheer quantity of beverage manages to wash the memory of misguided nutritional progress into sweet oblivion.

No sooner is the glass emptied than Hythlodaeus's train of thought is derailed.]

"My time?"

[shtola]

( hm, well. the question at least confirms a few things for her. )

We're something akin to predecessors to you and yours.

( technically not a lie.. but there's a few more degrees of separation and complication to the whole ordeal. )

[nomoresharks]

"Predecessors" you say...

[It's quite a claim, and one he's not entirely sure he believes. Not that he thinks Y'shtola means any ill-will from it, but... There is currently a truth or dare game being played nearby, after all.]

How curious. Though I'm still not entirely sure how to answer your question. Since you came before, I suppose the best place to start would be to ask about the food in your own time? Not all like the bread, I should hope.

[He might as well have fun playing along.]

[shtola]

( its curious that he'd bother to play along. he'd know of her acquaintance with thancred, and while he'd been doubtful before in his conversation with the other archon, the acceptance of this is off-putting.

so she's decided that it leaves an odd taste on her tongue, and she'd rather address the air than let it sit. with a bit of a sigh, she scans the rooftop venue for a familiar bottle. if he truly wants to talk about bread after, then, by all means. )

I think there's the more pressing conversation we ought to have, and I'd prefer to be seated as it may be something of a longer discussion. Away from the loud chatter, if this is amenable.

[nomoresharks]

[That playful smile of his fades just as quickly as it grew.

This... sounds important. And heavy. Perhaps moreso the latter. But if the air must needs be cleared sooner rather than later, then so it must.

He nods--]

A moment.

[--and adjusts his gaze to better See. The colors aggregate where expected, but there are a fair few wallflowers keeping to themselves. He frowns a little, if only because there doesn't appear to be anywhere completely private, but mayhap the other partygoers would be willing to turn a blind eye if they made a brief exit.]

We may need to go inside for that, I'm afraid--if that would be all right with you. If not, I did spy one spot that had less people.

[shtola]

( her eyes follows his easily enough, her gaze scanning the crowd and how they seem content to mingle amongst themselves. perhaps it's not the wisest to be wandering off with him on her own, but she has just enough good faith to brush the concern aside for now. )

Inside might do our interest best.

( the notion of a stronger drink abandoned, she makes for the door and crosses the threshold before glancing back over. )

Not that I believe 'tis much interest to those not of our fair Etheirys.

[nomoresharks]

Perhaps not, [he begins to lead the way inside] but even so, there's something to be said for privacy in matters as serious as your tone leads me to believe.

[He holds the door open for her, following once she's inside.]

Now, what is it about our home--or rather, myself--that troubles you?

[He forces himself to wear an encouraging smile, but there's more trepidation lingering in his expression than he would like.]

[shtola]

( it's not until she's confirmed for herself that they won't be interrupted does she begin. there's no barring the door, people will need to leave at some point, but there's at least the option of being out of earshot for those that do. )

A clarification, perhaps, more than a concern. ( because it's.. done, as far as she could tell. ) Your talk with the Archon I am affiliated with likely has given rise to questions of your own. But perhaps I shall start with this.

In your eyes, how do our souls seem to you?

( fractured, imperfect beings that they are. )

[nomoresharks]

[Oh. That is... a worrying question. In many, many ways. It takes him a second to reply.]

"Different," while entirely unhelpful, may be the most accurate description I can give you--for the majority of the people here, that is. Given that there is no aether to be found where they're from, I can only assume 'tis because of whatever it is that makes up their souls instead. What makes a soul a soul--or something to that effect. And they all of them continue to come in their own unique hue.

[But he's stalled enough]

...I had assumed the state of your soul, as well as that of your companions, was due to the lack of aether to be found here as well. But it seems that isn't the case.

[a sigh]

You look as if you might fall apart at any moment.

[At least some part of him assumes that she overheard him talking about his particular gift while he was participating in Two Truths and a Lie. The greater part of him has the sinking feeling that this is not the case.]

[shtola]

( she listens, of course, with all the patience that an explanation like this is due. she knows the answer, as does he, and it's especially clear to her eyes now that they stand in closer proximity. it's somewhat cruel to force him to acknowledge and voice their brittle state, but she sees little alternative. )

It is as you say.

( but she's not angry, nor is she saddened by his assessment. these are simply the cards they were dealt, and it is not as though she's unaware of her own mortality. )

We are the shattered life born in the aftermath of a cruel cataclysm.

( now does her composure fracture, and the frown that sits on her lip is sympathetic, but troubled. how is one even meant to say that their world is born of the demise of another's?

but surely, even with mere pieces to the puzzle, there are some conclusions he can draw on his own. )

[nomoresharks]

[The pang in his chest strikes truer--harder--than he expects.

All things come to an end. Such is the truth of existence. Even the man that he knows, who lives for an age and returns to the Underworld on his own terms still returns to the Underworld someday. And yet, foolishly, some part of him has ever hoped those peaceful, happy days would last forever, if not for him then for the rest of his people.

But more than that...]

A cataclysm that has somehow left memories of the Convocation in its wake.

[shtola]

( this is not a conversation she ever thought she'd have, but it's.. necessary, in its own way, if they are to coexist here. it was bound to come up, and they'll likely need to rely on one another in the trials that are sure to come.

their people's entwined fate is an impossible cruelty, and still her heart breaks for him. he's the one faced with the very evidence of their loss. )

I'd hardly make so bold a claim. We know of them, but we were also left with something more than a handful of memories. ( her glance lands her gaze back towards the door, out towards where thancred still wanders. ) There are the few that survived, and I likely need not say what their motivations might be in the wake of seeing everything they knew unravel.

[nomoresharks]

[He follows her gaze to the door, to the other two familiar-unfamiliar souls still at the party. And his heart sinks ever further to the pit of his stomach.]

What any of us would desire.

[Though to think that desire would bring even Lahabrea to perform such dreadful acts... How terrible, how traumatic must this cataclysm have been?

He laughs as another question comes to mind. It's a frail thing, one that betrays some of the dread he feels. But Hythlodaeus has ever been a curious man, a slave to his own whims, and thus the question slips from his lips ere he can hold it back.]

Emet-Selch was one of the survivors, wasn't he?

[And the end will come in his own lifetime.]

[shtola]

( the smile she offers is something wry. yes, and she’d be quite the hypocrite to disagree. they longed for salvation that will not come, for those they’ve loved and lost be returned to them, and for a home they can no longer come back to. how could anyone possibly sit idle at the face of that?

but while she can’t possibly fathom the desperation and despair they’ve been through, no matter how dreadfully human their calling was, the blatant disregard of the truth that they live as well is clear. )

… Yes.

( there’s no sense denying the truth now, but there’s little need to make full record of all he’s done in the name of their bloody conquest. not now when his voice is as feeble as it is. she’ll mention something else, then, in any hope at all that it may give him comfort. )

Although he had his reasons, he did save me, once.

[nomoresharks]

[Of course. Her friend recognized his name, and Y'shtola knew of his particularly rare talent. Said talent aside, there's nothing nearly remarkable enough about him to warrant Hythlodaeus being immortalized in the memory of his people. Nothing remarkable at all, save perhaps in the eyes of one hopelessly sentimental man.

Her comment earns another laugh. Something more genuine.]

Now that I believe whole-heartedly. Though I imagine there was a great deal of complaining and the dragging of feet leading up to it.