hadriel_logs | Event log: How Delightful

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Event log: How Delightful

Who: Anyone and everyone!
What: Delight's resurrection.
Where: Throughout the city, starting in the bar.
When: March 23rd-April 3rd
Warnings: Partying too hard, poor life choices, underage drinking, the worst hangovers of all time.

On the morning of March 23rd, bright and early, Delight is resurrected. Her temple is restored, and her bar appears in the city. What does that mean? Well, obviously it's time to celebrate. We hope everyone brought their party shoes! From March 23rd to March 27th, the party will be mostly contained in and around Delight's bar, with an invitation from the goddess herself. But it won't be long before she decides that's just not good enough - gotta bring the party to the people! From March 28th to April 3rd, the natural light is dimmed and replaced with flashing colored lights, fireworks, and even a few disco balls. Loud music blares through the city, making it hard to sleep, and a wide variety of trouble is available to be gotten into.

Wanna drink away the pain of being trapped in a hellcave? There's unlimited amounts of alcohol of all kinds, and Delight will be happy to supply anything that might be missing. More interested in karaoke-ing your heart out? Hit up one of the jukeboxes. Enjoy gleeful displays of your own mortality? Here's a skateboard and a ramp, have fun. There's just about anything you could desire, as long as what you desire is to party hard and make bad decisions. And hey, if you find yourself getting tired, grab one (or five) of Delight's special energy shots. They'll eliminate your need for sleep, food, water, cure an oncoming hangover and immediately relax any sore muscles you've got for 24 hours per shot! There's no down side! (Except for all the effects coming back to hit you at once when the shot wears off, but whatever.)

After about a week and a half of tequila shots, keg stands, roman candle battles, tagging the city with free spraypaint, inappropriate party games, and balloon hats made to look like rocket ships (wait... that's not a rocket ship), Delight realizes everyone's partied out and starts to wind things down. On April 3rd, she'll clean up the city, removing everything except for a few remaining fireworks and disco balls, stored in her temple. Her bar will still be around, if you can stand to even look at liquor after all the poor choices you made. Otherwise, lay in bed and try to recover from your hangover while the city goes back to normal.

► This log covers March 23rd-April 3rd.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► Did you party too hard? Please report any character deaths right here!

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[ Gansey looks terrible. His movements are hazy to the point of clumsiness, and tiredness pushes at the edge of his vision. He's absolutely desperate for another of Delight's shots, but it's finally occurred to him that they might be doing more harm than good, and he needs to fight through this.

He stumbles into the bathroom, only to find Noah persistently in his way. For a moment, Gansey seems to consider his options, and then he slides down the wall to the floor. If he doesn't have to think about standing, this will be easier.

He reaches out, hand flickering against his friend's back. ]

You're ill. [ This is obviously very helpful and observant. He's quite proud of himself for stating the fact. ] Mmm...hangover? You should...get you to bed. We should do that.

[ Pause. His train of thought has clearly derailed. Gansey rubs his other hand over his eyes. ]

Noah?

[Noah's had enough pause after the last wave to get up and wash his mouth and face off again, but his stomach is still railing against the past several days of mistreatment and he's not yet certain moving away from the toilet would be the best plan - he has never had to clear puke from bedding and he doesn't want to start now.

He's really only vaguely aware of Gansey's entrence into the bathroom, coughing a few times as his stomach convulses but nothing comes out. Noah's trying to debate the pros and cons of trying to keep water or dry toast down to see if that would help or would at least give him something in his stomach to throw back up again when Gansey's hand finds his back. The touch is soothing and solidifies the other boy's presence in the room.

If Noah thought he could get his ass back up and make his way to the bar to get more of Delight's shots, he'd keep taking them until she cut him off.

He makes a noncommittal sound regarding bed. He doesn't trust his stomach to behave, still, though it would be nice. Maybe he can drag a pillow in and sleep in the tub.

When Gansey repeats his name it sounds like a question, though, so Noah struggles to raise his head to look over at his friend, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand as force of habit after the last several hours.]

Mm?

[ It's a moment before Gansey answers. His head feels heavier than he's ever known it, and he keeps almost slipping off into sleep without meaning to. His hand is still on Noah's back, gently moving on it in a half-hearted attempt to rub it while he's being sick.

Is Noah still even being sick? Maybe he's not.

Gansey rubs his eyes. Right. Question. ]

Nothing. I just...thought we should...go to bed.

[ Wait. Pause. Rewind that last part.

He frowns, squeezing his eyes shut. ]

I mean, get you to bed. Need to sleep it off.

[ Still, Gansey makes no actual move to get up. His limbs feel like they're made of lead. How he's going to get out of this room at al is anyone's guess. His head drops back against the wall. ]

That was an amazing party.

[Noah also makes no attempt to move, just resting his head on the cool edge of the toilet while Gansey sort of absentmindedly rubs his back. It's nice. Being taken care of when you're sick is really nice.]

Mmm. Hella fun. Haven't had a party like that since before I died.

[ Gansey makes a noncommittal sound. He entertains the idea of moving forward, and trying to give Noah proper support.

This thought does not get any further than a suggestion in his mind. His legs are leaden. His hand pats over his friend's back. ]

I've...Jesus, never had a party like that.

You must have had more than I did. Hangovers...are not worth it.

[ He takes the risk of shutting his eyes, given that his vision is swimming. ]

[Noah gives a little affirmative sound. Yes, he'd bet he drank more than anyone in Raven Haus probably, outside of Ronan maybe who can handle his liquor better. Noah is ridiculously prone to hangovers even under the best of conditions.]

I think - I think Whelk had to drive me to the hospital once, after a party. That one was great.

Ugh.

[ Gansey’s sound of disgust is vague, and it’s really not clear if it refers to the party, the hospital, or the reminder of Whelk in general. ]

Hardly sounds like a party. You don’t…need hospital now, do you?

[ That’s an alarming thought. What would he even do about that?! ]

[It isn't like there's any equipment here if someone needs their stomach pumped. Noah did a pretty good job of covering that all on his own, though, if the retching sounds from earlier were any indication. He pauses, then slowly shakes his head.]

No. No. I think I'll be okay. Just ... ... Need to lay down. Maybe. Yeah.

Great party.

Ugh.

[ This time, with feeling. And this time, it's definitely about the party. ]

Good. Just need to...to bed, then.

[ What a wonderful idea. For a moment, Gansey lets his eyes drop closed. They're really too heavy for anything else. ]

After you.

[Noah makes a noncommittal sound this time. He doesn't make any motion to get up yet.]

Blue's in your bed though. Where you gonna sleep?

[ Blue is in his bed. For a moment, Gansey’s mind can’t seem to think around this problem. Where is he going to sleep?

Here, his brain unhelpfully supplies. Right here, against this very comfortable wall, where getting up will not be required. What a brilliant plan. How marvellous, and this way, no one will be put out if he’s taking up the whole sofa -

Oh. ]

Ah, living room. [ He points at Noah. ] Sofa. That’s where I…

I’ll get there after. You, bed. [ His hand covers his eyes, in a vague attempt to make them open again. ] Go on.

That's all the way downstairs, doofus.

[Noah moves then - to shove Gansey lightly in the shoulder. Doof.]

You'll - you'll trip and break your neck on the way down.

[Noah can see it now. An inglorious end for such a glorious boy. What would Ronan say?]

My bed can hold two. It's fine.

[ Gansey doesn’t even feel the shove. His shoulder heavily, belatedly moves beneath Noah’s hand, while his head rolls back with a defeatist sigh. ]

Downstairs. I’ll…

[ Whatever plan he was about to lay out is lost, though somewhere in his mind, he’s convinced that he outlayed a brilliant idea. Noah seems to disagree, though, and Gansey’s eyelids flicker at that suggestion.

Noah’s bed, in fairness, is nowhere near as far. ]

Your bed. [ He tries to enliven himself again, forces both eyes open. They’re bleary, but they manage to approximate a focus on the space between the two wavering images of Noah sitting in front of him. ] Are you sure? You’re…not well.You don't have to.

[Noah's bed is, literally, right down the hallway. With no small amount of effort, as well as a lot of bracing against the toilet, then the sink, then the wall, Noah even manages to stand. His legs wobble. Crawling might have been a better idea but now that he's gotten upright he's not sure he can get back down without hurting himself.]

No, no, this is good. If I roll onto my back you can shove me back onto my side. So if I won't choke if I get sick again. [Because Noah did run with that kind of crowd when he was alive, and knows to account for that kind of thing.] You'll be doing me a favor. C'mon.

[He holds out his hands to Gansey to help Gansey up. Nevermind that even if Noah's a little taller, he's nowhere near as muscled or solid. He will attempt to help Gansey up, if only by using himself as a counterweight.]

[ That argument rolls across Gansey. If he were remotely able to focus, he could probably counter that he's likely to fall asleep as soon as he hits the pillow, and is in no position to roll Noah over at all.

Of course, if he could focus enough to say that, he wouldn't be in this position. He finds himself nodding, for once willing to accept that help. ]

Okay. All right, thank you, Noah.

[ He takes that hand, pulling himself up. To his confusion, the world promptly topples to the side, and Gansey's shoulder hits the wall he'd just been leaning against. His head is swimming, and his eyes have closed again.

Then, with unhappy honesty: ]

I'm not...completely sure I can get there.

[They are in this together, Richard Campbell Gansey III. No man left behind.

It helps that even if it has been a while, Noah has been ridiculously hungover and still slightly drunk at the same time before.

The comment about Gansey's use to him was more so Gansey felt he could be useful and not feel bad about taking up bed space.]

We're- we're gonna walk. Come on, lean on me. We'll lean on the wall too. If we fall, we crawl. We'll make it. I'll get you there.

[He keeps his hands on Gansey's, lets go only to put his arm around Gansey's torso to help steady him. One step at a time. It might take them half an hour to get the fifteen paces between Noah's room and the bathroom door, but they'll make it damn it.]

Okay. [ Gansey moves a heavy, clumsy arm around Noah's shoulders, and then says 'Okay', again, because he can't remember whether he said it the first time. The more his body draws him towards sleep, the harder it is to distinguish between what he's actually done and what he's only thought about doing. For example, he's sure that his mind has already traced the path to Noah's room, but his feet have not moved at all.

He forces them now, one in front of the other, while one hand clings to Noah and the other shoulder keeps bumping the wall.

Both eyes have shut by now; he's trusting Noah to keep him right. ]

Think...those shots were a bad idea. Never been this tired.

[ At least he's likely to fall asleep, though. There'll be no insomnia tonight. ]

[Noah laughs, his usual breathless sounding stuttering exhale that passes for a laugh. It throws him off and he almost falls but with Gansey and the wall he stays upright. One careful step, ridiculously concentrated on, then the next. It's so close, but so far.

Thank god he left his door open so he doesn't have to navigate a doorknob too.]

Those shots were great. Wish I'd saved some.

[ The moment where they transition from hallway to bedroom is lost on Gansey. He only realizes where they are when he sees Noah's bed ahead of him. Or beds. It could also be beds; his eyes are seeing at least three of them. He tries to blink his tiredness away, and only really succeeds in making it worse. ]

Think I had too many.

[ He almost topples, and then catches himself on the edge of the bed. ]

You shoulda had a mojito too. They’re minty. If you’re gonna be fucked either way.

[Never mind that Gansey is only exceptionally tired while Noah is low key wanting to die a third time. His stomach keeps doing the unpleasant jumping and clenching thing where it is telling him that if there was literally anything else in it, Noah would be getting sick all over his own floor. He still has to pause at the edge of the bed to breathe in and out through his nose for a few seconds before he gathers his wits about him again. Or as many wits as he has left.]

Right. In you go.

[Noah helps Gansey into bed. Which, in this case, means kind of giving him a gentle shove so that if he falls it’ll be into it.]

Mmm...shots...

Were minty.

[ Says Gansey, vaguely. He stumbles on his way into Noah's room, but somehow or another, he manages to end up on the bed. He knows this because it feels its softness beneath him, and with a great effort, he manages to turn to look up at Noah. ]

You, too. You in, too. Sleep it off.

[ The nausea, he means. It'll be better in the morning. Most likely. ]

Oh I'll probably be feeling this for another day. At least.

[He had a LOT of liquor and a LOT of shots, is what he's saying. Once Gansey gets on the bed Noah climbs on too - over Gansey if he's gotta, he doesn't really trust himself to circle around to the other side properly. He doesn't bother with covers. Obtaining a pillow is good enough, he'll drowsily burrito himself in blankets later on.]

Oh... I'm a cuddler. Not so much when I'm sick, but. You know. Warning.

[ Gansey, who is already half asleep from the sheer effort of staggering in here, takes a moment to process what this means. Why is Noah telling him? It's hardly going to matter to him if -

Oh.

Yes, well. With a great effort, he pulls one eye open. ]

I don't think I'm in a state to care. Just lie down, please? I don't want to take up your whole bed.

[ Especially if Noah will be feeling this for a day or so. In Gansey's defence, he assumes that he'll wake up in the morning feeling fine. He does not know he's going to be asleep for several days himself. Blame Delight for that. ]

[Noah makes a vague sound of agreement, getting aggressively comfortable in the bed. God, he loves this bed. It's like sleeping on a giant marshmallow.

This does mean he ends up kind of sinking close to Gansey anyway even if he doesn't intend to, turning onto his side and beginning to restlessly doze in and out.

In a few hours he will end up snuggling against Gansey's side. To be fair, he warned Gansey. The first couple months he was alive he had to sleep with zero privacy and he got very used to having others around. It's a comfort to him, and he falls asleep much easier even with the pain of the hangover.]

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Event log: How Delightful

april 3

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