hadriel_logs | Event Log: A Hope for the Future

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Event Log: A Hope for the Future

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the A Hope for the Future event
Where: All over the city!
When: April 15th-April 19th
Warnings: Stealth Rock

It's finally time to reap the rewards you've earned from all that hard work collecting and returning the Hope orbs! Be careful walking the streets during the small earthquakes, but feel free to admire the scenery as your beautiful city reassembles its way back into its former glory.

There are new houses where the destroyed buildings once were, and they're perfect for a single person or pair of lovebirds. In addition, you'll find that the electricity to these new houses, and all other homes and shops in the city is restored. The food is better, the monsters are gone- hey, this city might be livable again!

To cap it all off, we've got a feast waiting for you on the 19th! Come one, come all, and enjoy all of your favorite foods, drinks, and party games. It's been awhile since we've all gotten together to celebrate something good, so get your party on and toss all your troubles away!

► This log covers April 14th-April 19th.
► 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!
► If you get hit by levitating rubble or eat a food that wasn't meant for you, please let us know here.

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[Gren yells at some rando wandering by and Lup is there in a flash, a skinny arm around him quickly trying to steer him away, her expression firm, though there's no hiding the soft touch of worry in her eyes.

She knows why her friend's fallen down this hole of booze and rage, after all, and she really can't blame him for acting out for it. Wade's gone and there's just no consoling the guy of the other man's absence.]

C'mon, Gren, don't go pickin' on the nobody's here. They don't deserve a second of your time. We're way too bomb for that. Let's drop the booze for two seconds an' hit the grub. There's gotta be somethin' special there for you, big guy.

[Gren's about to go over there and start some shit, because shit can always get started if you're enough of a drunk asshole about it, when there's this skinny little arm going around him. Normally, some asshole trying to touch him would immediately start shit, but it's Lup and there's no amount of alcohol that he could pour into himself that would make him deck her.]

[He just wants to break somebody's face on his knuckles, Lup, okay. Is that so wrong?]

[Well. Yes, yes it is. But details.]

Fucker's askin' for it.

[They're really not, but Gren lets himself get pulled off anyway. Not worth it, right? Yeah, sure, not worth it. That's it.]

I ain't hungry, I just need another one'a these.

[He's still got his glass, and honestly everyone should count themselves lucky that he hadn't used it to goddamn glass anybody yet. Because he's that kind of shitshow, he wants a fight out of somebody and he'll get it one way or another.]

[Honestly? It's not wrong exactly, but the mood of the party is so damn good, Lup would like to hold onto it as long as possible.]

Don't give me that look. We both know you could crush anyone and everyone in this place, mister macho. But that's not gonna make anyone feel better.

[Especially the fuck that Gren destroys, but duh.]

C'mon, Gren. Just try and eat a little somethin' for me. Please. If you still want to drink an' fight after, I won't stop you. Hell, we can even tag team 'em.

You still ain't my fuckin' mother.

[But she said please, and Lup usually doesn't ask nice for anything. That's the part that digs at him, that she's all worried and shit because he's a mess and doesn't know how to deal with himself without getting drunk and angry. Because it's way easier to be drunk and angry than it is to actually deal with the fallout from The Boyfriend Who Must Not Be Named.]

[He hasn't missed anyone like this since his ma died.]

Fine, whatever. Let's see what these fuckers scrounged up for this shitty party.

Hey, you're the one who kept calling me mommy. I'm just steppin' up to the role.

[Gren catches the soft plea in her tone, the worry that there's no point even trying to deny at this point, and somehow that makes him relent. Lup can't quite explain why, but she appreciates the gesture all the same. She slips close to press a quick kiss to the man's cheek - look, she appreciates his cooperation, that's all - before she guides him far away from the more rowdy party-goers, over to where the banquet awaits.

It's a pretty nice spread, a little bit of everything from everywhere. Lup wastes no time in dancing forward to pick up the most perfect-looking pink macaroon before she's thrusting it right in his face.]

Here, eat this. It's life-changin'.

[It's a hell of a spread, there's pretty much every kind of food that he can name and then some. If Gren had had any sort of appetite, he probably would find something in there that he recognized, maybe something from his old homeland.]

[He doesn't have much of an appetite for anything except whiskey, really. Or whatever other liquor he can get in his glass.]

[Then there's this little pink cookie thing in front of his face, and Gren leans back from it slightly because it's like right in his goddamn face. Rude, Lup, and also what the fuck is this?]

The fuck is this? [He sets his glass down to take it from her, and like. What is this delicate bullshit? It looks French. This looks like some fancy French rich person food, right here.] Is this a fuckin' cookie or some shit?

[The second he sets down the cookie, Lup plucks up one for herself, this one a soft pastel yellow, before her sharp eyes are sliding his way, turning a very judgmental look at the man.]

Gods, you really were raised in the gutter, huh? It's a macaron, nerd. Super fancy, super delicious. It's kinda Taako's speciality. These ones are almost as good as his. But if that doesn't do it for you, look over here.

[Without giving Gren time to eat his cookie in peace, Lup grabs his elbow and drags him a few feet over, gesturing over towards a plate of beautiful eclairs, delicate pastry topped in chocolate, with just a hint of cream in the middle.] My fucking favorite. C'mon, there's gotta be something that looks good you here. We gotta get our snack on before we get drunk and fuck strangers up.

[The middle of a dank forest, not the gutter, Lup. He's a delicate, gentle forest creature.]

[They stop in front of the pastries and, yeah, they look great. Perfect little eclairs with shiny chocolate, all stacked up nice and neat. He's not at all surprised that they're Lup's favorite-- she seems to like decadent things.]

Those're the things that are filled with cream or some shit, right? Hard fuckin' pass.

[Gren may not give a whole lot of fucks about his general health right now, but things he does not want to do? Deal with his own inability to digest that spicy, spicy milk.]

Your loss.

[Look. Gren's not the only one who grew up a little uncivilized. But the twins flipped their misfortune around and now only indulge in the finest of everything. Sort of like a giant fuck you to the family that left them behind.

They are worth it.]

So what on this spread actually suits you, then? Somethin' more meaty?

[Unfortunately, Gren went from being a delicate forest creature to being poor as fuck, so indulging in the finest that life has to offer was never on the table for him. It was cheap hooch and bad food or nothing.]

Yeah, I guess. I mean, it ain't like I hate sweet shit, if it ain't too sweet.

[He's a goddamn honey fiend, to be entirely honest. He'll eat it straight with a fucking spoon because Wade was 85% of his impulse control, and Wade was shit at impulse control.]

[Oh, wait, he's supposed to not be thinking of The Boyfriend Who Must Not Be Named. Dammit. See? Impulse control. He thinks about goddamn honey and then stupid associations make him think about how Wade teased him and then he's right back where he started, wanting to just say fuck it and drink again.]

[There's something about this whole situation, about Lup dancing around the real issue and him playing along with it and them both acting like this is fine when it's really, really not that's just... funny, sort of. Not funny ha-ha, but funny-weird.]

...are we gonna play pretend all night, Lup?

[If it was about her, Lup would gleefully continue in this dance, waltzing further and further from the source of her pain, drowning herself in booze and attention and too much good food until her thoughts couldn't possibly fall to that place.

But this is about someone else, someone she's come to care for, a friend who went out of his way to care for her while she was at her lowest. The very least she can do is return the favor, even if Lup doesn't think she's at all good with these kinds of conversations. Her own experiences with loss over the years are much more different than what most others do.]

Not sure if you've noticed, but that's kinda my thing... [But she sets her plate down on the table, wipes her hands off with a napkin, and purposefully gives Gren all of her attention.] But nah, we don't have to. We can... Look, if you wanna we can grab a bottle and find a corner and, uh, talk shit out?

[She can't bring Wade back, but she can remind Gren that Wade wasn't the only person in Hadriel who cared about him.]

How's that sound, big guy?

[Diversion, Gren understands. It’s just that his method of diversion is usually just straight getting shitfaced to fuck, not partying hard to avoid his delicate feelings. Unfortunately, the feelings are always still there when he wakes up hungover, but there’s always more liquor, right?]

[This is a deeply unhealthy coping mechanism. He is aware of this, in an abstract sort of way, and is also entirely unable to stop.]

I dunno. Nothin’ exactly sounds good.

[He’s fucking... he doesn’t know, sad or whatever. Talking doesn’t seem like it’ll make him feel less stupid, it’ll just force him to, like, acknowledge the fact that he feels like shit. Gren doesn’t like feelings, his are defective or something.]

Fuck it, whatever. Grab somethin’ that looks decent and we’ll have a fuckin’ pow-wow.

[She’s in charge of food, he’ll get more booze. Lup’s worried about his eating— for good reason, he tends to drink his meals and Wade had nagged him about it too— so he’ll at least pretend to poke at whatever she chooses. If only to appease her.]

[Unhealthy coping mechanisms are just what they do best. It's not a great thing to have in common, but at least it gives Lup a little more insight into just how Gren is treating himself, in how he keeps spiraling.

The elf's mouth twitches just slightly at the man's response, the hurt that comes through. She knows nothing she says can ease the loss of losing Wade, nothing will ever fill the space that he left behind. But Lup has to keep trying. She can't let Gren just drink himself to death.

But at least she gets that small concession, the woman's long ears perking up.]

Right, I'll grab the chow, just meet me over in the back in like ten minutes. If you even try an' escape, your ass is grass.

Yeah, fine, fuckin’ hardass.

[She probably could murder his ass if she wanted to; she’s the magic lady or whatever. But he knows she’s got a soft spot for him, and for some reason he just seems to inspire those sorts of reactions in tough ladies.]

[He finds a bottle of mead, a friggin’ godsend in the shitshow that is his life, and brings that with him to a spot in the back. Out of the way and as quiet as anything can be at this weird asshole party.]

[He cracks into the bottle before Lup comes back.]

[Gren and his collection of tough broads. He just attracts a certain kind of 'gives zero shits' type of woman.

Even if her tendency is towards delicate, expensive food, when Lup finally plops down next to the man in his dark corner, the plate she brings with her is loaded up with comfort food, a million types of delicious carbs. They can eat and drink their fill, then crash for the longest nap of their lives.

She balances the plate on her knee, eying how quickly her friend dug right into the bottle.]

Soo, you wanna start this feels train or what?

[Maybe Gren should just go steady with carbs to fill the void that Wade has left in his life. It would be better for him than his current liquid diet, anyway, so that's something.]

[But it looks like she picked out some good shit, and Gren feels the vaguest stir from his long forgotten appetite. Or it's just his busted-ass feelings acting up again, who the fuck knows. Fuck it, whatever, he's going to drink some fermented bee spit.]

Not fuckin' really, but here we are.

[He pours a drink out for himself and some for Lup, too. At least he's not chugging straight from the bottle like some kind of heathen.]

[It takes a while for Gren to talk. His mouth is kind of like a wind-up toy that runs on his own pissiness, and without something to get properly worked up about, silence is easier. But he also told her to come over here, so silence isn't a viable option. He'll have to talk, and maybe if he plays it right, it'll at least be a short conversation, even if it couldn't ever be painless.]

[He thinks, a mental appraisal of this whole bullshit for whatever part of it hurts the most, like probing a sore tooth for the cavity. Cut straight to the quick, don't waste anybody's time. Self-reflection isn't exactly Gren's strong point, because he never learns from his mistakes until it's too late to do anything about it, but he's old enough that he should be able to figure out the shape of his own misery.]

It ain't just that he's gone, there ain't shit I could've done about that. [No explanation is really needed as to who he is.] It's that I didn't tell him a goddamn thing, I think.

[Gren takes some time to actually talk and Lup doesn't push, doesn't judge him for his silence, doesn't prod him to go faster. The woman just slips in close to him, just enough to where her knee casually bumps against his, and sips her drink, her gaze drifting out to the party happening around them.

It's a good party, more than most folks in this place have come to expect from the ones in charge. But the music is good, the food is better, and the booze is flowing freely. Yet even with all of those fantastic elements in place, if this had happened even two weeks earlier, Lup would be in the same boat as Gren, wouldn't she? Drowning in heartache, wanting to lose herself to liquor instead of facing the whole unfair center of her hurt. She can't fault him for his pain, for not being able to manage the hurt he's facing, but Lup wants to be the kind of friend that he needs in this moment.

So at least he doesn't have to face the whole happy room alone.

But finally he speaks, getting straight to the point and god, Lup loves him all the more for it. There's no dancing around the topic, no pretending that nothing is wrong. Just right to it. Straight to his pain.]

I know, hun. [And she does, or at least, Lup assumed as much. His grief had seemed so much bigger than just losing Wade. It was the unspoken between them that hit him the hardest.

Maybe the touch isn't completely welcome so he can always shrug her off, but Lup reaches over to rest her hand over his forearm, her touch light and warm. For her, physical touch is the most important reminder there is that she is real and that others can see her. Maybe he won't get exactly the same comfort out of it, but hopefully she can help him stay grounded.]

And yeah, maybe you shoulda told him earlier, but you can't beat yourself about what ifs. You didn't know. He didn't either.

[He didn't know, and no one could have really predicted that Wade would fuck off into the ether that particular day. It's just that sometimes Gren lays awake in a bed that's too small for how goddamn empty it feels, replaying conversations over and over in his stupid head. Every place where things should have been said (but weren't) stands out when he looks at it in hindsight, whole new branches that should've been made in a narrative that didn't happen. Which is a fucking problem, because maybe there's some alternate universe where Gren didn't fuck up and let the ~~love of his stupid, waste-of-space life~~ man who should've been his boyfriend disappear without telling him the things he needed to know, but that's not the universe that Gren's living in.]

[He's in the shitty one, and he has to live with that.]

Yeah, yeah, I fuckin' know that. I just wish I could've...

[He makes a short noise in his throat, annoyed at his own goddamn self, and sort of points his eyes in the general direction of the party-goers, looking through them more than at them. There's no way to end that sentence that isn't stupid; he could wish for all sorts of shit but that doesn't mean that it matters even a little bit. Lup's hand settles gentle on his arm, and he tenses just for a second before letting go. Letting her give comfort in the way that she knows how. The sentiment behind it is the important thing, more than the method.]

Closure's bullshit, isn't it. Closure's a fuckin' lie that we tell ourselves because we want to pretend that our shitty stories could have a better endin'. [Which is a lie in and of itself, because the stories don't really end. Nothing ever really ends.] Wantin' it's like a fuckin' leash. It's supposed to be a key or some shit, supposed to let you outta the cage of your past, but it... ties you to it.

[He settles back in his seat, his limbs in a graceless sprawl, and huffs.] Me, I guess. Fuck.

Edited (t y p o) 2018-07-09 08:32 (UTC)

Total bullshit.

[Lup focuses on each piece in turn - the short noise he makes in the back of his throat, the tension that builds up so briefly beneath her touch, the way Gren's gaze lingers after the party-goers - each one drawing her back to him, back to the pain he's trying so desperately to manage. She both gets it and doesn't. There's a part of her that can't help but feel the squeeze around her heart, the tightness that clutches at her chest at the thought of Gren's heartbreaking pain, at the emptiness and sense of loss he must feel. But on the other hand, what does she possibly have to compare it to? This is just so much more. So much left unsaid.

But even in his pain, Lup doesn’t indulge him; she refuses to let him hide.]

Look. I'm not gonna coddle you and we both know you wouldn't let me even if I wanted to. But here's the thing, Gren. What you're feelin'? Right here, right now? That's just the present. And I don't mean in a 'tomorrow's a better day' kinda way, I mean in 'our lives are fucking bullshit and totally unpredictable' way.

[Her fingertips, warm and calloused, drum lightly at his forearm.]

Our lives are too long to be stuck running forever. At some point, we just deserve to stop.

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Event Log: A Hope for the Future

19th

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