hadriel_logs | Event log: How Delightful

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.

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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March 28th-April 2nd | Various Locations in the City

This is Glacius' first time being witness to a god's resurrection. So far, it has done absolutely nothing to convince him that the strange beings that rule this city are at all deserving of the title.

When the party had been contained to her newly-established bar, he could deal with it, even if it was of no importance to him. He was not about to indulge in such careless behavior when he still considered himself on active duty--and a partygoer, Glacius certainly is not. Throngs of humans making all sorts of trouble, loud noises, explosions in the sky, and brightly flashing lights of all color-- these all contribute to a potent brew of chaos that the peaceful, quiet alien would attempt to avoid at all costs. Now that it has spilled out from the bar into the entire city, to the point that he can't be free of the booming music or the spirit of debauchery no matter where he goes, it has become an absolute nightmare for the alien--never mind the fact that at the beginning of the month he had been attacked by one-eyed monsters.

As it is, Glacius finds himself getting more and more frustrated as the days go by. He does not want to drink. He does not want to dance. He does not want to pull stupid stunts that could end up with him or anyone else injured. He is a disciplined alien warrior who just wants to keep his head down and find a way to get out of this bizarre city, away from its equally strange overseers. Maybe your character is the same, and having someone to bemoan the relentless, now intrusive festivities or be confused about this manner of revelry would be a refreshing change of pace. Or maybe they are the exact opposite, and they have decided to take it upon themselves to try and show this otherworldly being the merits behind learning to relax and have a little bit of fun. Whatever the case, they are free to encounter the alien as he wanders through the city of Hadriel, looking for somewhere, anywhere that this party hasn't yet reached.

April 3rd | Riverside, Not Far from the Caves

There is a massive ice alien passed out cold in the grass by the gently-trickling river.

It had become too much. No matter where he went, he couldn't be free of the music, of the noise, of the chaos. Even when he'd retreated to the caves he'd been calling his temporary home, he could still hear the steady baseline booming of the festivities ringing in his ears, to the point where it had been pounding behind his temples as a massive headache. He couldn't even think straight, let alone sleep. He didn't understand how people could be enjoying this sort of thing; to him everything was terrible and he just wanted it to stop.

That was when he had discovered the strange energy shots left out by Delight, and that they somehow magically cured his fatigue and headaches. And that was when everything had gone downhill.

The ice alien had been desperate to find a solution and this, apparently, was it. He began relying on the shots to see him through the rest of the event, taking them for multiple days straight whenever he began to feel his body wearing out on him. When Delight had taken it upon herself to finally call it quits and end the party, cutting off the music and cleaning up the city, Glacius had at first been ecstatic--right up until he realized that meant the energy shots were gone too, or perhaps more accurately they hadn't been magic cures. They'd just temporarily treated the symptoms of his fatigue and exhaustion, and now everything he'd shrugged off over the past few days was all catching up to him at once, resulting in an energy crash of monumental proportions.

Given that he hadn't done much drinking, he didn't have a hangover, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel like absolute death. It had been days since he'd last slept, after all; the ice alien didn't even have time to make it all the way back to the caves before his mind started slowing down and his limbs began feeling like lead weights. He passed out on the spot in the grass by the waterside, completely dead to the world where anyone could stumble by him. Of all the ways his presence--which he'd been working hard to conceal up until this point-- could be discovered, this has got to be the absolute worst one possible. If anyone wants to nudge him awake and help him to a more secluded location where he can rest properly, it would be appreciated--even if realizing that he'd been seen in this position would be a huge blow to his dignity!

Edited 2016-03-23 19:49 (UTC)

Noah is absolutely not looking for a quiet place to hide out when he quite literally runs into Glacius. Considering the way his arms pinwheel and his legs stagger in an attempt to catch his balance back under him, not to mention how his eyes seem unable to focus -

Well, it doesn't take the smell of liquor coming off of him to tell this boy is drunk. Or the way he pauses, holds his hands out in front of him again, and looks up at Glacius.

"... Whoa. Cool."

Noah has been drinking since this party started.

Glacius gives out a stunted squawk of surprise when Noah bumps into him, recoiling immediately from the contact. He's not big on touching people at all, so at least the teen finds his balance on his own--otherwise he'd have had to reach out and catch him. His disdain for the loud, invasive party and the drunken antics of all who are partaking aside, he's not the sort of being to just stand there and let someone potentially bite it unless he really doesn't like them.

Unfortunately, the way that Noah is staring at him does not put him as ease. It's one of the dangers of looking around--there's always the possibility that he could be spotted. Well. Hopefully when this human sobers up he will assume that his sighting of such an exotic being is merely a product of his intoxication...

In the meantime, hopefully he can discourage such careless behavior. The alien tilts his head slightly as he watches the human in front of him stumble about like a newborn chick. "Perhaps you should cease your intake of alcohol. You could incur harm from your lack of coordination."

Partying had been well and good and all, if you are a party person.

Rey, however, is not. She's never been invited to parties, never partook in festivities at bars, and she sure as hell has never quite been this drunk before.

Lucky for her, she doesn't sleep that often. The music and the noise doesn't even phase her that much. When you've spent enough time on battlefields to the raucous noise of active gun charges and mortar, the sound of constant partying isn't so bad. It just... makes her jumpier more so than usual.

Having wandered away from the festivities, she makes her way to the riverside to check up on her dam. Perhaps even work on it a little while she's being the "all work, no play" insomniac that she is.

Until she notices a blue pile passed out by the waters.

Hands in the pockets of her cargo pants, Rey saunters towards the sleeping alien and judges him with the toe of her boot to make sure he's still alive.

"Hey," she says to the creature, her voice a little softer and more hoarse than one might expect coming from a face like hers. "Are you dead?"

Rather than waiting patiently for an answer, she peers a little closer to make sure whether or not he's even breathing still.

He is still breathing--the breath gusting in and out of fluttering gills on both sides of his neck in a regular, temporarily unbothered rhythm that suggests a very deep slumber. When he feels something nudging his body, and when he hears what he is assuming to be words spoken at him, the alien... well, he doesn't quite wake up yet. His voice is husky and not completely coherent, and given that he doesn't even have the energy to properly formulate words, what crawls from the pit of his throat is a grudging protest from a creature that does not want to be moved.

Whether his quiet, half-conscious "noooo" is a response to Rey's question or simply him protesting everything that's happening in this exact situation is not entirely clear.

"Got you that bad, huh?" She scoffs with another judge of her boot. "Don't suppose you had any of those shots."

Rey had seen what happened to the people who were winding down on those drinks, and decided to stay away from them. As someone who is used to two mere hours of sleep, she's somehow managed to figure out how to stay on her own two feet without them. It's a miracle that she's managed to escape the hangovers and the migraines in wake of the celebrations.

Edited 2016-03-23 21:09 (UTC)

march 24.
[ Delight, Johanna thinks, is her favorite. Hope was unwilling to supply Johanna with morphling, but Delight seems to have less of an attitude problem. Johanna hasn't had alcohol in too long, and while it's no substitute for pure, injected opiates, it's pretty damn good.

Johanna doesn't care much for the lights, though, so she's gathered several bottles of the strongest stuff in Delight's bar and plopped herself on the steps out to the alley behind it. All she's missing is a brown paper bag, a cigarette, and a parking lot. Then the scene would really be complete. As it is, she's pretty happy, and even smirks at the person walking by. She's miss congeniality, for sure. ]

april 1.
[ There's no escaping the party. And while Johanna has a near-moral opposition to being nice to people, she doesn't have any problem with having some fun. Her idea of fun is just at the expense of others, that's all.

Johanna has joined the party with a bottle in her hand, as always, these days. She's dressed in her grey sweatpants from thirteen, but on top? Johanna's wearing nothing but a small, smooth black bra. Her chest, arms, and ribs look about as healthy as the rest of her (which isn't very), but Johanna doesn't care. She takes a swig, woops and grins, wolfishly. Johanna has one mission here: to fuck shit up. ]

What up, loser?

[ And she's going to start with bothering you. ]

Glacius heaves a mighty sigh that has huge clouds of freezing mist billowing up out of his neck and into the air, briefly obscuring his face. One hand swats, lightly and sluggishly, against the toe of the offending boot that keeps bothering him. A moment later and that seems to alert him, in a moment of rather delayed realization as he grips the same toe, to the fact that there is in fact someone else next to him; someone else who is seeing him in this sorry state.

The alien's head rolls around in the grass and one eye cracks open to the tiniest green sliver, then widens. His body tenses up--it's about the only movement he can manage in this condition--and he lets out a garbled noise of surprise, his mind still too foggy to really put up anything coherent.

Nick, too, is not much of a party person. He's technically not a person at all, and with no need to sleep, the racket isn't keeping him up; it is undeniably distracting, though. It's because of all the hullabaloo that he's still walking his daily route around the city, keeping an eye out for trouble: the noise and lights might attract creatures from the caves. Even if they don't, the ruckus is making it hard for those who do need sleep to get it. Deprived of basic needs, folks get antsy, on edge. Someone has to keep an eye out for them.

It's nighttime (or should be nighttime according to his internal clock, but with all the flashing lights and blaring music, it's hard to tell) when he reaches the outskirts of the city, and he decides he'll take a break from his routine. Weaving through the trees of the park, he meanders toward a lonely, ruined bench he often stops at when he needs a moment to himself. He won't be getting that moment this evening -- someone has beaten him there.

Given the unusual shape and size of the stranger, Nick thinks for a second it might be one of the monsters from the caves; however, this one seems calm enough at first glance, and doesn't seem to be making its way into the city, toward the noise and the people. Maybe it's just looking for a quiet spot to dwell on things, too.

So he gives conversation a chance first, calling to the being as he makes his slow approach. "Can't say I expected anyone else to be all the way out here, but with the city the way it is, I'm not surprised."

Noah waves his arms in what is probably meant to be a dismissive kind of wave at Glacius, but ends up being a bit too loose overall to be much of anything.

"Nooo. No. I'm good. I'm great. I've been drinking for a long time. I mean. Uh. Like. I am an experienced drunk. Although I have also not been sober for days. I'm good." He pauses for only a moment then slowly gives Glacius a very carefully thought-out thumbs up.

"... Are you an alien? I met an alien before, she had horns on her head, like this-"

Noah makes a gesture that looks similar to cat ears.

"-And they were colored like candy corn... I miss her. She had kittens and let me pet them."

March 28th-April 2nd
-Pre Drunk-

(For anyone who had ever thought that Newt was the symbol of all things Good & Pure, that image will probably be wrecked. He's got five shots sitting in front of him and without even batting an eye, he just takes one after another like they're nothing. There's not so much as a grimace.

After that initial line up of shots, he gets himself a glass of some hot pink drink that was offered to him and turns about to sit up pert and pleasant on his bar stool. He's got the straw of his pink drink tucked up between his fingers and takes a sip, staring around the bar, actually kind of just enjoying the atmosphere. For once things aren't so painfully miserable and people are actually having a good time. And he notices some lights from the corner of his eyes and stares over at the window in wonder. Guess whose never seen fireworks? Yup.

He'll be drinking plenty for the night. Feel free to join him, buy him a drink, suggest something. Admire his abnormal ability to drink like a fucking horse.)

-Hella Drunk-

(So keg stands are pretty intense, Newt has discovered.

He's outside at this point and at some point managed to lose his shirt (Thanks, Johanna). At some point he had found a piece of cloth and has it tied up around his forehead, making his blond hair a spiky savage mess atop of his head. He can't even begin to walk straight and is swinging a bottle of- wine? Yeah that looks like wine. Every now and then he just drops the bottle, sort of snort-laughs and picks it right on back up.

Then there's the point of which he has to just kind of submit to his natural instincts and lay down. Wherever. It doesn't matter. The sky looks pretty cool with the disco ball effects and god, fireworks are awesome. Life is awesome. Being drunk is the successful route to joy, apparently.)

April 3rd

(So, being drunk is definitely not the successful route to joy, apparently. Actually kind of the opposite. Okay, no, that's a bit dramatic but holy hell does his head hurt. He begins to stop drinking by the first and partying and remembers about life because at some point he was bound to. The first day is hell and is spent mostly holed up. Eventually he wanders out and he looks a bit like hell. Pale skin, a bit sweaty, and why in the hell is everything so bright anyway?

But food needed to be bought and he staggers off to grab some food from the store. He should have done that before hand but then again, he wasn't exactly thinking clearly the past few days.)

Edited 2016-03-24 00:34 (UTC)

[march 23-27]

[if there's one thing hadriel needed, in peter rumancek's opinion, it was definitely a bar. bars mean alcohol, and potentially other substances, so he's gonna get his ass to where the party at.

peter can be found often enough in delight's bar, unless he manages to get a bottle out that day. no matter what, though, kid's got a nice buzz on. people who know him can mostly tell this because instead of looking slouchy and relaxed, he actually is slouchy and relaxed. he also might be smiling, who knows. strangers will find him more chatty than usual, and bar patrons might occasionally discover him juggling things, including empty bottles, because why the hell not? he can do card and coin tricks too, if you ask nicely.

he's not only spending his time at the bar, though. at very least he can be found at the skateboard ramp watching other people eat shit, and also at newt's garden, because working and drinking aren't necessarily mutually exclusive. in fact, they get along pretty well. he's not much of a dancer, but close friends are welcome to try when something good comes on the jukebox.]

[march 28-april 2]

[guess who's still drunk? yep, it sure as hell is peter. he's maintained a proper buzz this long and hell if he's giving up now. rumanceks are long-distance drinkers. unlike many of his relatives, though, peter isn't really a partier, so the broadcast music and disco balls aren't the most welcome thing in the universe, although it could definitely be worse.

for one, he could be hungover.

mostly, though, he's gotten bored with the bar, and there's no lack of alcohol available basically everywhere, he's quit that scene and more or less resumed normal life, except with more inebriation. he works in the garden, hangs out at his house, goes to the library sometimes, naps a lot. everywhere. naps on the steps to fear's temple, naps at the library, naps at the entrance to apartment building 1, naps on the bridge heading toward the armory, naps in the forest, naps in the garden...anywhere someone could possibly fall asleep and a few places where it's pretty damned unlikely, despite all noise and flashing lights, peter naps. just don't even think about stealing his drink while he's zonked, that'll wake him right up.]

[april 3]

[okay so. so maybe he should stop drinking. maybe. but peter's made fewer bad decisions than most, so if you need someone to hold your hair while you lament yours to the toilet and/or back alley, he can be your water-bottle giving bro.]

Edited 2016-03-24 00:39 (UTC)

If not for the fact that he was breathing, Rey would've wondered if the alien was alive at all. This is even further confirmed when he grabs her boot before she can give him a third little scoot to make sure he wasn't just dead weight.

She stops. Blinks.

"Taking that as a 'yes', then."

(Newt's eyes are a little pink from everything he's been drinking so far and he's got a pretty nice buzz going on.

Newt's just wearing his own sweatpants and a red sweater by the time Johanna comes over to him. He's never actually seen a girl- well. Anywhere near naked. The one time Theresa had changed near them, he had been the one who had to remind the boys that it wasn't appropriate to look. Not that he really understood why at the time but Johanna being shirtless? It's kind of reminding him of all those bodily difference between girls and boys. Yup.

His brows kind of just shoot up and he blinks sloppily.)

Uhhhh.

(He tips his head over to the side and frowns. Should he say something? He feels like he should say something.)

Right, yeah. Hi.

(He's got a margarita sort of thing in his hand and takes a quick sip.)

(It's no surprise that Newt's spent most of his time the past few days with Peter. Not all of the time but enough that they eventually wind up by the jukebox together. It's a curious thing for Newt, Newt who has never actually really heard music before except for once distantly and over a scratchy sort of radio. He couldn't even remember what the song was like at all either.

So this was completely new to him at this point. He's pleasantly buzzed as well, not completely smashed, but nice and a bit warm in the head. They're sitting at a table and a few people are dancing in the middle of the room and it's that that has Newt's attention more than the music itself.)

What is that?

(march 23)

[The party is far too noisy for the soldier's tastes. He's not inclined to party at all, but he wants to at least take a look at what's going on so he can get a good idea of it.

He wanders around a bit, clearly uninterested in doing anything except scoping out the place, and then makes to leave. He doesn't plan on coming back.]

(march 28-april 3)

[Too much light, too much sound. The soldier can last for long stretches of time without sleep, but frankly, being forced to navigate the party no matter where he goes is irritating. And the longer the party goes on, the more frustrated and annoyed he gets. He'd spend the whole time in the apartment, but goddammit, he and Steve need food, and he's not going to let a fucking party keep him from going out and about.

So yes, he'll be out and about, stalking around and looking positively menacing. Look, every party needs a pooper, right? Well here he is.]

Edited 2016-03-24 00:48 (UTC)

[Despite her initial caution - the gods put it on, the gods fed them people one time - Maketh is enjoying the party. Alcohol does wonderful things for her mood, makes the whole damn world feel light and warm and maker, Maketh does like to dance. It's been a long time since she's been able to.

She's not in her uniform tonight, dressed in loose pants and a black shirt, shoulders bare. Her hair hangs in a long, swinging braid. Easy to move in, easy to dance - she's having a good night. All the noise and laughter. Like being back in the Academy all over again.

Maybe Delight isn't so bad after all.

No, she likes Delight, Maketh decides, stumbling outside for a bit of fresh air. Just to clear her head. In a moment she'll head back in and dance again. Dance until she forgets about anything else.

She nearly trips over Newt, sprawled out on the ground.]

Oh! You shouldn't do that!

What's what?

[peter's head turns to follow newt's gaze to the people on the makeshift dance floor.]

Oh. That's dancing. Moving to the music. You can do it by yourself or with someone else.

[he gestures vaguely with his drink at people who are doing those exact things, as though this clarifies anything at all.]

There are like, dances with steps and stuff, and then there's just kinda swaying around to the music, which is what most people do.

[he takes another sip of his drink and leans in, speaking lower and close to newt's ear, as though imparting a secret. his breath is hot and sweetly heavy with alcohol.]

The only kind of dances I really know don't go with this kind of music.

[guess who's here to provide the cigarette.

no, but seriously, dude's got a bottle and a cigarette, which is currently hanging from between his lips in the way that makes him look about ten years older than his nineteen.]

Hey, nice spot you found here.

[the level of his bottle and the way he swings it indicate that it's not too late into the night for him, and his voice is warm but not slurred yet.]

At that, Glacius simply scoffs. He's "good"--right. He looks like he needs his head dunked in a tub of cold water. And clearly not so experienced, if he'd let himself get this far gone--to the alien that just suggests neglect, or carelessness. However, Noah's subject change takes him off guard, and his dull, unimpressed stared breaks into something more open for just a moment. He's faced with an alien and that's it? That's all he's going to say? Maybe what he's heard about nonhumans being commonplace here is true...

"I am," the ice alien grunts, shrugging one shoulder. "...I admit, I am surprised that you are... so calm about this. Though perhaps the alcohol is dulling your responses."

"What," Glacius croaks, blinking heavily, sleepily. He doesn't have the brainpower to let go of your boot just yet, sorry Rey; he can only process so many things at once in this condition, and apparently responding is using up all of his clouded mind's brainpower. He can already feel the headache coming back on. "A... a yes to what."

(Newt stares after the people in silent wonder. He's never seen anything so...fascinating before. There was the club that one time, sure, but that was a haze of smoke and lights and a horrible time enough that he doesn't really think about it as dancing.

His eyes cut from one couple dancing over to Peter and he has this odd yearning to dance with Peter. Not like he has a clue how but it looked like fun.

When Peter leans in, Newt leans right on in too and turns his head as if it'd help him hear better. Newt's own breath smells similarly with a touch of citrus and he turns his head further and his mouth crushes over Peter's ear and it's stupidly intimate for something so simple.)

What kind of dances are they?

(Honestly Newt is in the same boat. Alcohol makes it a lot easier for him to forget about things worth forgetting and a lot easier to remember all the stuff worth remembering. Newt himself doesn't know much about dancing except what Peter showed him a night or two ago.

But he can appreciate all of the dancing going on around him. Since being introduced to it, he's automatically adopted a bit of a fondness for it.

It had just gotten to be a bit much with the heat and all when Newt stepped out and laying down had just seemed like an awesome idea. So laid down he did.

Which apparently was a bad choice because suddenly a very familiar person is tripping up over him and Newt's sitting up on his elbows, eyes wide and hectic for a moment before he realizes who it is.)

Maketh!

(And Newt's sliding up onto his feet, grinning not too unlike a cat. Hope you're ready for a hug because you're getting one in 5...4..3....Now.)

[peter shivers as newt's mouth brushes his ear, as one does. he has to turn to speak into newt's ear, then, lips close enough that his words feel like touches. he can practically sense newt's curious pining even though he's not looking at the other boy's face. it's all there in the tilt of his body and the direction of his shoulders. but if the universe is conspiring to make peter rumancek dance, it's sure as hell not going to be booty-dancing to a fast song.]

I guess you'd call them folk dances. Traditional. From my family. Family reunions aren't a party like this, but they sure are a party. This kind of dancing is just kinda doing what your body feels like.

[Oh. Oh, okay, that's a hug, she's being hugged. Maketh's hands dance for a moment, before she settles for returning the gesture. Why not why not? She's feeling loose and happy and she likes Newt, Newt is a good person.

Maketh leans back a little, and - because she feels like it - fluffs his hair. It's standing up. It's adorable.] Where's your shirt?

Edited 2016-03-24 01:44 (UTC)

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Page 1 of 61

Event log: How Delightful

Glacius | Killer Instinct | OTA

March 28th

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April 3rd

no subject

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johanna mason | open

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March 31st - Park Area

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newt | open

peter rumancek | open

"another NUDGE of her boot", oops

april 1

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the winter soldier | open

March 30 - hella drunk because >3

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march 24

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i gotcha!!

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/yes good/

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