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

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

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No?

[ To her credit, she doesn't immediately leap onto the opportunity to drag out her teasing. She will allow him the grace of that particular denial, for now. ]

Then why no dancing?

Because I do not. It is not in my nature to join.

[ Is this what it's like for people who try getting answers out of her? Touché. She perks a brow. ]

Have you ever been invited to join?

[ frustrating, isn't it? but she'll at least get the sense that he's not doing it on purpose or to be ornery. ]

I have.

[ If anything, she appreciates the challenge and has yet to stumble while still keeping the pleasure of a company of sorts. ]

But you prefer to watch.

[ She's no longer asking, and there's a pinch to her smile as she is utterly unable to resist the tease, whether or not he appreciates it. Some things can be only for her—but then, she also enjoys looking. Far more than he, she suspects, but she she will always be one to assume the worst of herself. ]

Very well.

[ Turning, she'll set down her barely touched glass of brandy and promptly slip off to find a potential dance partner. It could seem as nothing more than a terse goodbye, but it's merely a different sort of invitation: watch away.

A certain gentleman with striking red hair at the bar is a fair choice. She'll need to adjust her ballroom dancing to the quicker pace of the music, but it's still the perfect diversion. One of the few moments in time where Vanessa allows herself to feel light. Whatever shadow that seems to follow her remains on the outskirts, always waiting, but allowing her this small grace from time to time.

She may return once she's through, if her dance partner doesn't steal too much of her attention. ]

[ Dream watches her step away with the same impassivity he's shown thus far, looking neither offended nor relieved at her leaving him to pursue an activity other than being a wallflower. he makes no effort to stop her either, and he doesn't answer her non-question before she takes off.

but he does watch her, his eyes following her now just as she was tracking him before her approach. it's not a jealous sort of attention though, she'll be able to feel only a quiet curiosity at the back of her head. perhaps she piqued his interest? who can say. but if she happens to glance back to him while dancing with the "gentleman", she will catch his gaze still on her. ]

[ Even with her senses stifled by the City, there are times when she can still feel everything at once. With a heart racing from dance and conversation, her blood hums with the vibrations in the air — from the knowing of simple pleasures in a city of nothing. The woman who had haunted the network with midnight tales about graveyards nearly transforms when allowing herself to give in to the joy of touch and movement. First the one named Reno, and then a far more sincere fellow named Kaidan.

She doesn't glance, doesn't seek him out, but she feels his gaze as much as she feels her dance partner's hand on her waist, and there's a secret smile that the men holding her hand need not understand.

Even so, they gain enough of her interest to keep her attention for some time. When she does return, a few songs have played, and she's properly thirsty. On return, she'll take her brandy back for a proper drink before finally looking back to him with a smile that could almost make her seem soft. ]

Still seeking?

[ ooc; for the records I checked with the players to make sure Vanessa did dance with the dudes, it's all kosher~ ]

[ to be fair, he doesn't watch the entire time she's with the others, especially after the first sing, but if she's dancing and moving around his gaze will catch sight of her again. he's not trying to be a purposeful creeper, anyway.

when she return, he hasn't moved from the spot she found him, and his presence may have even warned away others who might have taken her drink for their own. at least his somewhat foreboding and dark appearance is good for that. ]

Merely observing. Though it would seem that you yourself have found what you were seeking, have you not?

[ 'Merely', he says. ]

Mm. [ In truth she may never find it, but as for the evening? The now? To that, she'll swirl the brandy in her glass and take another sip with a little nod. ] Fleeting.

[ But still relevant. With the evils of world the at her back, and the ashes that await ahead, how can Vanessa not seize opportunity when it presents herself? It's the very reason she prefers dessert for breakfast. Vanessa never knows if she'll make it to supper, so every second must count. Especially in this emptiness calling itself a city. For all its illusion, the moments they experience now are the only truths.

Thinking to Wordsworth, she murmurs while glancing back to the crowd and how they make merry. Her smile has lessened, but the memory of the experience is enough to sustain her. ]

Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, and while the young lambs bound, as to the tabor's sound... To me alone there came a thought of grief: a timely utterance gave that thought relief.

[ Momentarily, her eyes slip shut, and she whispers the next line with a bittersweet sigh. ]

And I again am strong.

Edited 2023-08-22 03:05 (UTC)

[ he lets the last line hang in the air between them, buoyed by the music and din around them but held light by their shared silence in that moment. he speaks more softly when there are words again, his voice the more raspy for it. ]

It took him many years to complete that particular ode. He was still unhappy with it in the final version. But then it was a continuing theme.

[ It's the most receptive he's been yet, and that draws a little smile into her glass while she takes a drink. The smile is bittersweet, though. Will she ever discuss the life of poets with her friend Mr. Clare again? She would never wish the curse of this city upon him, but in the moment she does quite miss his company. He, too, was uniquely pleasant to be around both in silence and in conversation. ]

Is he a favorite?

[ He must be, to bother learning even that much. ]

He is known to me. There were many that dreamed of his works and were inspired by them, though that has diminished with time, as does all things.

[ he glances to her without fully turning his head. ]

It would appear he is a favorite of yours, though.

I could not pick a favorite. Perhaps I have many, in that case.

[ The way he speaks is enough to draw her gaze back to him, the slightest wrinkle to her brow from an open curiosity. What does he know of people's dreams? He doesn't look it, but he must be a scholar. Or a doctor? She's long since learned that appearances are almost always deceiving.

To even think of recording her dreams for anyone else is beyond comprehension, but her dreams are nothing like they should be. She does not dream of Wordsworth. There's no poetry to her dreamscape; there's only pain, until there is nothingness. ]

You study dreams?

[ he really doesn't look like either of those things, none that she's familiar with anyway. he looks more like someone who could play on a stage, beautiful of form and face, if only he looked more vibrant and effusive. or even remotely alive at all. ]

In my way.

[ She sees quite a bit of life in his eyes, which are really all she's looking at for the moment. Strange, really; Vanessa thinks she could almost see stars if she gazed deeply enough.

Abruptly, she turns away and finishes her drink before setting aside the empty glass. From here, she can see quite a bit of the City, but she may as well be gazing straight through it. Its emptiness makes her heart ache. ]

What of nightmares?

[ he turns more towards her at her abrupt movement. ]

Nightmares are also dreams.

[ She could become lost in her waking nightmares now if she wished. So many empty spaces here for them to fill. The thought of it is always a dangerous draw, to be consumed by her melancholy. Is that not why she came to this party, to avoid that? ]

For some, the only kind of dreams they know.

For you?

[ there's a slight tilt to his head as he asks that, and his tone is mild, non-accusatory. lightly curious. ]

[ It's far too dreary an admission for such a lively party, even to someone supposedly studied in dreams. Perhaps that's even more the reason why she opts to politey smile instead with a little sideways glance. She has no wish to be studied by a doctor, scholar, or alienist. Quite enough of that, really. ]

I was merely being poetic.

[ 'Merely', once again. ]

Don't you find it more common for people to forget of what they dream?

[ he doesn't push the question, going along with the redirection. ]

That is often true for most creatures, though that is not to say that they are not influenced by those forgotten dreams.

[ That's a curious thought, but she supposes it makes perfect sense. Memories long forgotten may drive Vanessa at times, loathe as she is to admit. ]

Ah, but how would they know if they were?

They may not be conscious of any change in themselves. It could be as if they were inspired by a random thought or simply changed their mind on some subject.

Now you speak as a philosopher would.

[ Truly, what is he? Her senses aren't helping her as much as they normally might, thanks to the City, and even her sharp eye isn't much more assistance. She seems content with the enigma for now, and there would be little point in asking directly.

Vanessa can't say she's ever put quite this much thought into her dreams after recovering from her initial awakening. Perhaps it's because she only wants to forget them, but she should hate to think they would actually influence her without her knowing. For the better or for the worse?

Not that she expects he actually knows... This must all be theorizing, of course. ]

Is that why you study dreams? You think they influence mankind's decisions?

Philosophers are also influenced by their dreams, but they are usually more attuned to such phenomena or, at the very least, open to such possibilities. And I know for certain that they do.

[ he says it with utter certainty, a deep-seated and complete faith in the truth of his words. ]

Speaking from personal experience?

[ She believes him; it's easy for her to believe in such things. She can't help but wonder how his dreams must influence him, then. ]

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what is wrong with this woman nobody really knows

I mean, Dream's not NOT into it ... (and really, isn't that the plot of her canon)

'plot' is such a generous term with pd

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