ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ (
hadrielmods) wrote in
hadriel_logs2016-03-23 10:19 am
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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!
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[She halfway laughs, quiet and muffled.]
Hey, y'member that big snowstorm a while back?
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Mmmhmmm.
[The sound rumbles in his chest as he continues on, careful not to trip over the occasional bit of rubble.]
I remember. Why'd you bring it up?
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[She laughs again, but it sounds a little sadder this time.]
Imma special snowflake too.
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What? But you're...and that was...
[Normal-sized, and huge and creepy, are the missing words. He stops in his tracks a moment, swaying just a little--it's hard to process thoughts and walk at the same time--but he doesn't put her down.]
How's that work?
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[But she's noticed that he stopped, and she tilts her head up, squinting to see him.]
Where are we?
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Hey, stop that. Maybe sometimes you're a giant creepy-ass doll, but that doesn't make you a monster. You're still human most of the time.
[He shifts her weight a little, looking around.]
Towards the caves, right at the edge of the houses. You still haven't told me where you're staying. Bar's about...five minutes behind us?
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[She closes her eyes, already nodding off again.]
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I'm not gonna leave you anywhere, dummy. If you don't wanna go to your place, I'm just gonna have to take you back to mine.
[He doesn't mean anything by it, except that really--he's not just gonna dump someone on the street and leave 'em. It's just not his style, okay?]
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[It's not a real argument, and she's not gonna argue about him taking her to his place, either. She's too drunk for that.]
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Sure. I'm the dummy. I'm not the one trying to sleep it off on the street.
[He'd roll his eyes, except he's pretty sure if he tried it he'd fall over. At least the place he shares with a couple of others isn't far--although it's a little hard to open the door with her in his arms. Uh. Hm.]
Think you can handle legs long enough to get inside? Because I can't get the door open like this. Not without dropping you on your ass, anyway.
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[It takes her a few seconds longer than normal to comprehend what he's saying, but Nick does eventually get there.]
Ain't nothin' wrong with my legs, pal. Or my ass, f'r that matter.
[Which means - yes, she can do the standing thing. As long as there's something to hold onto.]
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No, your ass is fine. C'mon, here we go--
[Not that he's...looked...okay, maybe he has, but can you blame him? He's a healthy man with needs, even down in this pit. Swinging her carefully down to stand, he supports her with an arm securely around her waist as he opens the door, guiding her in and back to the rear bedroom. There's a nice twin bed in there, but it clearly isn't where he's been sleeping. That would be the pile of cured yeti furs in the corner. Don't you judge him. The room might smell just slightly of buffalo and gym sock, but it's not nearly as bad as it could be, at least???]
Here. You can take the bed, okay?
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[Nick grins hazily and leans into him as she's set down, stumbles a little as she's led into the bedroom. She's seen worse, honestly, and she laughs at what he says about the bed.]
'Fyou wanted me in your bed, y'coulda just said so, man.
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Hey, I don't even sleep there! And I'm pretty sure you still hate my guts when you're sober--whatever, that doesn't matter! Just...get some rest, okay? I'll be over there. In the corner.
[Pointing, he still has an arm around her waist as he helps her to the bed--though he also is very uncomfortably aware of that fact that she is definitely a woman right now. Whoops. Come on, Kamina, get it together.]
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[She stumbles again as she walks toward the bed, and this time, she ends up falling into Kamina, grabbing at him in an attempt to regain her balance. Oops.]
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Seems like a lot of work--whoa!
[Well, he does manage to keep them both upright, so there's that, at least; only now she's pressed very firmly against him and there's that reminder again that she is a girl, and a pretty hot one when she's not scowling and making fun of people. But she's not scowling right now, in fact she's smiling. It's a nice look, he thinks. Even if he shouldn't be thinking it.]
You, uh...You okay?
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She doesn't hate Kamina, not really - she doesn't even find him quite as irritating as she used to. Sure, he's loud, and he's kind of dumb, but there's something about how loud and dumb he is that she actually finds endearing, now that she's gotten to know him a little better. Or maybe it's an effect of the alcohol, fuzzing over the sharp edges. She hasn't been this drunk in a long time, and she hasn't been alone with someone holding her this close in an even longer time. They're both good feelings, so yes, she does allow her expression to relax into a lazy smile as she stares at him with glassy eyes and a building warmth on her face.]
Yeah ... 'mpeachy.
[This is weird, right? No, it should be weird, but it doesn't feel weird at all to Nick - in fact, it's an oddly comfortable situation, one in which she's found herself time and time again, with two of her spectacularly unhealthy coping techniques: drinking until she's numb enough to not care about the stupid rules she made for herself about never letting anyone see her vulnerable, and searching out the comfort of physical touch, in that order.
It's a bad idea, but that's never stopped her in the past. Nick drops her gaze to the tattoos circling over one of his well-defined arms and follows the path on his skin with a light trace of her fingertip.]
How 'bout you?
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Peachy--?
[He echoes her word choice, looking at her with a faint frown. She's....pretty smiley. There's a look on her face that sends a not-unpleasant sensation through him, a sensation that doubles when she drags a fingertip along his arm, tracing over the lines of ink and muscle. His arm twitches just slightly, muscles tensing almost instinctively under her touch. The frown only grows, along with a sense of foreboding. The hell is wrong with her???]
No peaches here. [What is a peach even.] Just me. I'm fine! I'm good. Just...it's late, right? You should rest!
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Imma goddamn adult 'n' I can stay up late if I wanna.
[Her hand glides up over the top of his shoulder, fingertip tracing down the tattooed line that curves near his collarbone.]
Anyway, y'talk too much. Y'ever heard that before?
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[She's pretty when she smiles, he realizes. Makes her eyes light up. She should do it more often, without all the booze helping. Of course, maybe that's why she's so smiley. And touchy. So, so touchy, and now her hands are exploring his chest, and he should really back away, except instead he's just talking again.]
Well yeah, but how's anyone gonna know who I am or what the hell I'm thinking if I don't talk? I've got a lotta ideas, you know! Lots of plans to make and a team to put together, if we're gonna climb out of this hole!
[Maybe if he talks long enough she'll stop acting so goddamn weird and hit him or something.]
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We're never gonna get outta here.
[She hears her own voice, and it sounds so small, like a child's. She hates it, and she hates this place. It's not fucking fair that they're both stuck here, and it's not fair that he's already dead, and it's not fair that she's going to live for basically ever.
Nothing is fair. Nothing is right. She's drunk, and she doesn't want to be alone, and he's still holding her close, so maybe, maybe she's not alone.
Nick doesn't think - she just acts. One second she's standing here, studying his face, brain spiraling through these awful, drunken thoughts, and the next, she's sliding her hand up up to the side of his neck and leaning in to kiss him.
Maybe they're both alone. Maybe they can both be alone together.]
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[That look on her face hurts, surprisingly enough; a little ache in his chest that he didn't expect. No wonder she's so mean all the time. If she's hurting that much being here...but maybe she was hurting just as much back home. He's not usually that intuitive; he's not good at reading people, not the way Yoko is--
--and then there's warm fingers on his neck, and her lips are on his, and just for a moment he kisses her back. It's a little clumsy, but it's warm, and his hands lift to her waist with a mind of their own, and it takes one long, long minute before he finally manages to break it, looking at her with a serious expression that looks almost out of place on his face.]
I can't. You're drunk. I'm drunk. It's not right.
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[She presses her teeth lightly around her bottom lip, studying him closely from this short distance away. It should matter; she is drunk, they're both drunk, and distantly, somewhere in the back of alcohol-flooded mind, she knows her judgment is compromised, because it always is when she gets like this. This isn't the first time she's gotten fucked-up drunk and kissed a boy she barely knows, and it usually leads to more, and it usually leaves her with regret and a hangover when she wakes up again in the morning.
If she were at all analytical, if she could ever look past her pain and examine her behavior, she'd realize that this is how she self-destructs a little bit at a time, over and over again. There's always an element of attraction, of course, but the allure is equally found in willfully tearing herself down.]
Nothing's right here.
[Nothing is right except this; this feels right, so it can't be wrong, can it? Nick moves one hand to the top of his shoulder, and the other slides up the back of his neck, fingers searching to weave into his hair. This is how she finds center again - by hitting bottom. Nothing is right, so they may as well be wrong.]
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[Her fingers running through his hair are bizarrely distracting. A hand on his shoulder, a hand on his neck, the fact that they're so close in height, almost eye-to-eye...she's pretty tall for a chick, he notes again, and this time it's not surprised, it's almost pleased. Something he can appreciate, not having to bend halfway over like he did for--
Yoko. Like he did for Yoko. He really can't do this. Maybe if he learns for sure that he's dead, that he's not going back, that life is going on without him back home and that Yoko and Simon are safe and happy, but not like this, not now. Especially not with both of them drunk. She feels way too good, touching him like this, and while he's got needs--needs that have not been addressed in a hell of a long time--he's also got willpower and beliefs. He can't do what she wants him to, what his body is telling him he should do, but he can't just leave her sad and upset, either. So he does the only thing he can; wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulls her in for a tight hug, pressing his cheek to her temple. He says it again, more quietly.]
I can't. Maybe you're right, nothing's right here, but that doesn't mean another wrong thing's gonna fix that.
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But she's not angry. She's tired, and then he pulls her in close, and she doesn't have the fire left inside of her to fight anymore. Nobody's held her like this in so long she barely remembers what it feels like, and she feels like she might disappear, just fade into thin air if he stops holding her. So she relaxes into the embrace and hold onto him, like he's the only stable thing in a shifting storm of chaos.]
You're such an idiot.
[It's half-muffled into his shoulder, but it doesn't sound like an insult this time - it sounds endearing, appreciative, accepting.]
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