ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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hadriel_logs2016-03-23 10:19 am
hadrielmods) wrote in hadriel_logs2016-03-23 10:19 am
Entry tags:
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.
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!
no subject
[he's not even going to ask right now how gren breathes underwater. maybe later. maybe never. who knows? ]
And you aren't still underwater because?
no subject
It ain't fuckin' quiet enough.
[Okay, Gren can push himself up out of the dirt now. He's not going to try to stand up, though, because he has this feeling that if he does, his fucking head might fall off. Or he'll throw his guts up, it's kind of a toss up.]
There are those... I dunno, fuckin' shots or something that the new bitch makes. Kills my fuckin' migraines because you assholes can't shut the fuck up for five fuckin' minutes.
no subject
You gonna puke on me if I help you up?
[it's an honest question.]
no subject
[Gren has lived a long and interesting life. A lot of the time, he wants his life to be a little less interesting.]
[He sort of half shrugs at the question.]
Fuck, I dunno. Fifty-fifty.
no subject
[at least he admits sometimes murder is the answer. he crouches down and gets himself under gren's remaining arm, grabbing his belt on the opposite hip for counterbalance.]
Shee-it. Try and aim the other way, then.
[he'll wait for gren to make some attempt at getting his feet under him before hauling upward and praying he doesn't end up covered in vomit.]
no subject
[He makes a token struggle when Peter tries to pick him up; he needs the help up and he knows it, though, so it's over quickly and token in every sense of the word. His legs are a little uncooperative-- probably not helped at all by the fact that his glamour is composed of about 80% leg, he's over six feet of skinny scarecrow man-- but he gets them stable enough underneath him.]
[There's a moment when he's fully upright that the whole world sort of tilts about ninety degrees on its axis and starts spinning and he's a little uncertain about where the contents of his stomach are going to end up. It's less the alcohol that he drank and more the effects of cumulative migraines stacking up as Delight's bullshit potion wears off. Gren shuts his eyes and waits, and after a few long seconds his gut settles.]
I'm fine. I'm fuckin' fine, kid.
[That's a lie, Gren is never fine. His default state of existence is 'not fine'.]
no subject
[by god he will drag your ass there if he has to, gren. their heads are so close that he's actually just murmuring now, figuring that if gren's head hurts he can hear peter just fine.]
no subject
I ain't your fuckin' problem.
[Sure, he literally tripped over Peter, but that doesn't make Gren's fucked up shit his problem. He could've just left him there. Just because someone's got too hideous a migraine to see straight doesn't mean that you have to take care of them. Peter's not obligated to babysit him or anything.]
You ain't my fuckin' mother, I can take care of myself.
no subject
[somehow, that all sounds much friendlier than the words would imply.]
no subject
[Gren went out into wendigo-infested territory to get those vegetables for him, the least he could do is actually eat them.
Who sounds like somebody's mother now.][And he'd argue the shithead thing, except that he knows it's true. At least he's aware of the fact that he's a piece of shit?]
Fuckin' magic bullshit. I fuckin' hate magic, it always turns around and bites you in the ass.
[Gren, you hate almost everything.]
no subject
[peter meant it in a sort of affectionate way--he's clearly not buying gren's line about being solely a mean old asshole. mean old assholes don't bring around vegetables, they just don't.]
Eh, it's like everything else. Nothing's free, magic just happens to be expensive as hell.
no subject
[Or whatever mundy disease it is that people get when they don't eat enough vegetables. Gren doesn't know, he's not a fucking doctor.]
[Gren snorts, like Peter's said something funny. Did he ever know about magic being expensive, he had to pay out the ass for a glamour.]
Fuckin' tell me about it, kid.
no subject
[peter gives gren an amused look at that snort. they might not be talking about the same kind of expensive or the same kind of magic, but it'll do.]
Guessing I don't have to. Does that mean you've got a day job?
no subject
[He'd had multiple jobs, usually. Nothing real stable and usually paid under the table, but it got him cash to pay for rent and glamours and a little left over for spending at the Trip Trap. He'd work at the docks or in warehouses, loading and unloading heavy cargo. Nothing interesting, but it's not like he's good for much else.]
Lost it after this shit happened. [He shrugs his bad shoulder.] Nobody's hiring a fuckin' cripple to move shit for 'em.