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expiationlogs2023-04-21 12:41 pm
electroburst) wrote in expiationlogs2023-04-21 12:41 pm
(OPEN MINGLE) Ain't no party like an Aldrip party
Who: The Chosen
Where: Aldrip inn
What: Open mingle log (with mod approval)!
Warnings: Nothing major anticipated, other than light (underaged) drinking and comic mischief, but PM me if any warn-worthy things happen and I can update this space.
Feel free to use this log as a completely open mingle for all characters new and old! There will be a few prompts below the cut, but you're free mess around with them or come up with your own ideas for toplevels, and tag around as you please.
Nestled in the heart of the quaint town of Aldrip, the inn, formally known as The Inn, has housed the Chosen of Expiation since their initial arrival. In spite of the occasional influx of new Chosen, they've dedicatedly provided rooms, food and drink, and basic amenities without buckling—even during the food shortages and other issues that have plagued the town. Of course, the Chosen have been no slouches themselves, repaying the hospitality with mercenary work, hunting and fishing, cooking, completing odd jobs, and much more to help bolster the economy. Even those, er, less magnanimous sorts have benefitted from this give-and-take, although there are those that prefer their living space to be a bit more solitary (or perhaps cave-ier) that might not have noticed as much.
In the days to follow, most won't be able to recount exactly how The Party started. The true story is that one particular new arrival, after having spent a day or two scouting the area out and, deciding it's chill enough, opted to do what he does best: be a public menace. What is known is that rounds of drinks start getting ordered and handed out, and soon platters of cheese, fresh bread, and other victuals make the rounds as well, appearing on tables that quickly begin filling with people. Somehow, someway, local musicians are pulled in to play and given a striking, energetic setlist to set the tone. The word gets out—party at the inn!
And boom: just like that, it's a party, and everyone's invited.
Early on, the offerings are relatively meager. The inn's food stores aren't completely bottomless after the shortages, to say the least, and there are a sight more Chosen (and local residents who also join in on the fun) than there is free food to toss at them. The drinks range from milk, water and juice to scuzzy, pisswater beer, which is a bit more plentiful. As the tavern portion of the inn fills with people, the music relatively ambient so that you can still hear the people at the table next to you talking, others bring their own food and drink, adding to the options on offer.
Others bring things like cards to play with, or dice and coins to gamble with, and set up spaces at tables toward the back. There's even an amateur fortune teller, heavy emphasis on amateur. Maybe you've got some party games of your own in mind, or you're a natural-born performer and want to hit the stage. Maybe you'd rather just grab a pint and lurk in the corner doing some people-watching. Or maybe you're just hungry and want to stuff a bunch of cheese in your pockets for later. Either way, there's something here for everyone.
As evening wears on, the peaceful inn party blossoms into a proper block bash. Even if you're not the partygoing sort, it'd be a little difficult to ignore the sheer ruckus going on downstairs while you attempt to read quietly in your room. The music, chatter and laughter carries on down the street, attracting even more people. By this point, it seems as if the food and drinks have multiplied, thanks mostly in part to others showing up with their own offerings, Chosen and local alike. It's getting rowdy in a few places—the music's louder and livelier, people are dancing and singing, and the gambling/party games' stakes seem to just keep climbing higher and higher. It's a good time all around. If you're not the quiet, loner type, anyway.
Thinking of sitting this one out? Think again: somebody starts going around to all the rooms and knocking on the doors, calling out to come join the fun. By the time you get to the door, though, whoever's up here disturbing the peace is gone, but maybe you can track them down by their voice at some point and wring their neck later.
In addition to the escalating merriment, all this imbibing also has the added benefit of loosening a few lips. Now's your chance to pick up the latest Aldrip gossip! You might even hear tell of a few pesky monsters that need slaying, so if you want to jump on that bounty before anyone else gets to it, you better act quickly. (But maybe don't run out into the woods in the middle of the night to fight monsters while inebriated... or do, nobody's stopping you.)
Late into the night, the festivities are still going, and they're... messy. Fortunately the drinks and provisions seem to have run to the bottom of the barrel, so those that've been partying hard for hours are getting cut off whether they like it or not. The band's getting tired, the tempo of the music fluctuating. Some people might like to go to bed sometime soon, so maybe now it's time for the voices of reason to tell those still dancing on top of the tables to get down. And why is there a chicken in here? ...And oh no, somebody tell those guys to take that swordfight outside!! Yeeaaahh, maybe it's about time to shut this production down.
Or maybe not. Let the good times roll until the sun comes up! That's up to you.
Where: Aldrip inn
What: Open mingle log (with mod approval)!
Warnings: Nothing major anticipated, other than light (underaged) drinking and comic mischief, but PM me if any warn-worthy things happen and I can update this space.
Feel free to use this log as a completely open mingle for all characters new and old! There will be a few prompts below the cut, but you're free mess around with them or come up with your own ideas for toplevels, and tag around as you please.
Nestled in the heart of the quaint town of Aldrip, the inn, formally known as The Inn, has housed the Chosen of Expiation since their initial arrival. In spite of the occasional influx of new Chosen, they've dedicatedly provided rooms, food and drink, and basic amenities without buckling—even during the food shortages and other issues that have plagued the town. Of course, the Chosen have been no slouches themselves, repaying the hospitality with mercenary work, hunting and fishing, cooking, completing odd jobs, and much more to help bolster the economy. Even those, er, less magnanimous sorts have benefitted from this give-and-take, although there are those that prefer their living space to be a bit more solitary (or perhaps cave-ier) that might not have noticed as much.
In the days to follow, most won't be able to recount exactly how The Party started. The true story is that one particular new arrival, after having spent a day or two scouting the area out and, deciding it's chill enough, opted to do what he does best: be a public menace. What is known is that rounds of drinks start getting ordered and handed out, and soon platters of cheese, fresh bread, and other victuals make the rounds as well, appearing on tables that quickly begin filling with people. Somehow, someway, local musicians are pulled in to play and given a striking, energetic setlist to set the tone. The word gets out—party at the inn!
And boom: just like that, it's a party, and everyone's invited.
Early on, the offerings are relatively meager. The inn's food stores aren't completely bottomless after the shortages, to say the least, and there are a sight more Chosen (and local residents who also join in on the fun) than there is free food to toss at them. The drinks range from milk, water and juice to scuzzy, pisswater beer, which is a bit more plentiful. As the tavern portion of the inn fills with people, the music relatively ambient so that you can still hear the people at the table next to you talking, others bring their own food and drink, adding to the options on offer.
Others bring things like cards to play with, or dice and coins to gamble with, and set up spaces at tables toward the back. There's even an amateur fortune teller, heavy emphasis on amateur. Maybe you've got some party games of your own in mind, or you're a natural-born performer and want to hit the stage. Maybe you'd rather just grab a pint and lurk in the corner doing some people-watching. Or maybe you're just hungry and want to stuff a bunch of cheese in your pockets for later. Either way, there's something here for everyone.
As evening wears on, the peaceful inn party blossoms into a proper block bash. Even if you're not the partygoing sort, it'd be a little difficult to ignore the sheer ruckus going on downstairs while you attempt to read quietly in your room. The music, chatter and laughter carries on down the street, attracting even more people. By this point, it seems as if the food and drinks have multiplied, thanks mostly in part to others showing up with their own offerings, Chosen and local alike. It's getting rowdy in a few places—the music's louder and livelier, people are dancing and singing, and the gambling/party games' stakes seem to just keep climbing higher and higher. It's a good time all around. If you're not the quiet, loner type, anyway.
Thinking of sitting this one out? Think again: somebody starts going around to all the rooms and knocking on the doors, calling out to come join the fun. By the time you get to the door, though, whoever's up here disturbing the peace is gone, but maybe you can track them down by their voice at some point and wring their neck later.
In addition to the escalating merriment, all this imbibing also has the added benefit of loosening a few lips. Now's your chance to pick up the latest Aldrip gossip! You might even hear tell of a few pesky monsters that need slaying, so if you want to jump on that bounty before anyone else gets to it, you better act quickly. (But maybe don't run out into the woods in the middle of the night to fight monsters while inebriated... or do, nobody's stopping you.)
Late into the night, the festivities are still going, and they're... messy. Fortunately the drinks and provisions seem to have run to the bottom of the barrel, so those that've been partying hard for hours are getting cut off whether they like it or not. The band's getting tired, the tempo of the music fluctuating. Some people might like to go to bed sometime soon, so maybe now it's time for the voices of reason to tell those still dancing on top of the tables to get down. And why is there a chicken in here? ...And oh no, somebody tell those guys to take that swordfight outside!! Yeeaaahh, maybe it's about time to shut this production down.
Or maybe not. Let the good times roll until the sun comes up! That's up to you.
b
Cue fists and threat, which steadies his attention, his look utterly unimpressed. ]
Abrasiveness really is your specialty.
[ Perhaps in addition to, as he'd before asserted, a personality trait. ]
no subject
she hadn't seen him in a while, and she drops her fists briefly as she looks at him. she hadn't really minded him so much on their first meeting, outside of the somewhat pretentious attitude.
but whatever.]
Got a problem with it? You look like a fine wine kinda guy, too. Sad you can't get it?
no subject
[ No challenge in that, nothing in his voice but — nothing. A void of interest.
Aside from the inconvenience of having to dodge or block physical blows, it would also be an irritatingly illogical situation. She couldn't make him "get out of her face", since he wasn't in it. Hadn't been, anyway.
The shift in her stance is promising enough. Nanami lifts his glass in a wry gesture, the slight mockery of a toast. ]
I'm a fine wine kind of guy with the right meal. Cheap beer has its time and place [ fried and/or fast foods and/or izakaya ] but this is pushing it.
no subject
Might as well get whatever you can get, that's my motto.
[especially since she's still living on the "eat and drink when you can" sort of ideology.]
Even though you seriously don't give me cheap beer vibes, but I guess everyone's gotta have their guilty pleasures.
no subject
[ With a nod. ]
Adapt to the facts and manage yourself accordingly — that's mine.
[ His motto, though he probably wouldn't have used that word. There's a vein of similarity, a root in adaptation, or he wouldn't have volunteered it. The facts: at this hour of revelry, only this sorry excuse for beer was readily available. Management: drinking the shit.
And after the incident with Aldrip's refrigeration units, he'd say that ideology of hers is plenty sensible.
He doesn't smile when next taking a sip, possibly because his face is incapable of the movement (not really), but there's an almost amused quirk to his brow. Almost. Nanami isn't oblivious to the impression he makes. ]
It's just beer. It doesn't rise, or sink, to the level of guilty pleasure.
I'm not interested in making assumptions on vibes, but if I was, I'd get cheap beer from you. Not this cheap.
no subject
Hey, at least you got me. But I'm a "I take whatever" kind of gal. Wouldn't say no to fancy shit, but I wouldn't ever be able to afford it.
[not unless she stole it, but details.]
Thought about it, when I went to Piltover once when I was a kid. I almost stole some and stashed it away but I had to be focused.
[she nods to herself and then grabs the next full glass.]
I was leading a group and all that. I couldn't fuck around.
no subject
She's pretty talkative however many drinks down, Nanami notes, and still putting them away at a[n un]healthy pace. Not that he's impervious to drinking too much, even of beer this watered down — he's more often the I didn't ask for your life story type, because an anecdote like that invites questions, but he listens mildly.
Even asks (states, really) one of those questions. Not about Piltover, which context clearly identifies as uppercrust, but ]
I take it you weren't leading a tour group.
no subject
[Vi half leans, half sits on a table that's behind her. she swirls her glass a little, her expression turning blank as she remembers that time.]
Merry band of scrappy kids, going to steal from the rich and powerful and all that. It didn't work out, but... [she waves her hand a bit.] Shit happens.
[that's. mostly so she doesn't start thinking about the after effects of all of that...]
no subject
But, even if not removed to another world with its own law, Nanami couldn't fault it. Society shouldn't allow that sort of extreme inequality to exist. People will naturally do what they must to survive. It may not have been a matter of survival for a band of "scrappy kids", but still understandable.
Regardless: An obvious shift in expression. The sort that one sees staring back at the bottom of a glass. Nanami knows it, having spent some time in bars and plenty of time at his apartment looking at the bottom of his own glass.
He wouldn't pry even if he was the type. ]
Shit happens.
[ Agreeing, and there it is, the bottom. He swaps empty for full. ]
Well, if we come across something fancy, you could probably afford it here.
[ The people of Aldrip are literally making them statues. Fine wine shouldn't be out of reach. ]
I'll let you know if it's truly quality.
no subject
I'd like to see what that kinda shit tastes like. Maybe if we're really, really good, the next bar party they have will have Grade-A booze and wine.
[she'd tried some decent stuff at the Last Drop when Vander wasn't looking, but nothing that was really that expensive.]
no subject
Come to that, I'd trade that disturbing statue for a bottle of superpremium gin.
[ He'd take premium, too. ]
no subject
[she takes another sip of beer.]
Creeeepy. Probably some hidden cameras or some shit.
no subject
[ though lbr his probably looks like this
which is what it is, but the subject does have him taking a longer drink, himself. ]
Or — they wouldn't seem to have this technology, but a kind of 3D printing or computerized scultping.
no subject
It's just weird. The locals don't really seem to give that much of a shit.
[she raises her eyebrows.]
Yeah, that went way over my head. Tech isn't exactly that advanced where I come from, so to me? Looks like someone's way too obsessed.