expiationlogs | (OPEN MINGLE) Ain't no party like an Aldrip party

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(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.

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_{[ Alright, yep. Yep, Roche makes his decision right here and now. This Turk? He likes him. Why didn't he talk to him sooner back at the building? Granted things might not've turned out the same there, at least it'd have been something. Better late than never though, right? Right. That laugh earns a snort right back and a crooked grin of his own, and then a louder one at that little Mako-freak comment.

Definitely should've started talking to him sooner. So what if that's a name he's heard slung around in his direction already? It's true, and it's still funny. ]}

Then I don't have to worry when I tell you that I'm only with our current employer for the perks of my station. I could've stayed with PubSec's Mobile Unit, but I wanted something that I couldn't quite get with them.

_{[ He picks his phone back up and swipes the main screen open, and this time he pulls up a picture. The garages ought to be nearly identical all things considered, but that bike sure isn't an ordinary model. ]}

If the company truly does fall prey to a horde of beasts and a meteor, I doubt I'll be hanging around. They'd have to decide whether or not to take me out with them or run away to save their own skins, and knowing how the brass think... I'm going to err on the side of caution and assume they'll choose the latter.

_{[ The phone stays in the center of the table while Roche withdraws again. Go ahead. Look. ]}

So... I'd say I'm very flexible.

[ And there it is. Reno grins to himself just a little, smug and satisfied, like he couldn't be prouder of his own startling intellect, which would be correct. All this runaround and timey-wimey shenanigans babble for nothing. ]

So you are a deserter. A future deserter. See? I know what the fuck I'm about.

[ Some people have that look, y'know. (Some people shouldn't exist but still do somehow, y'know.) He reaches for the goddamn "phone" as it comes his way again, this time marginally more confident and comfortable with touching the screen, but stops to glance up again one more time before he really takes a look at what's on it. ]

Which isn't an accusation, by the way. I mean, not really. Couldn't fucking blame you for getting out while the getting's, uh, objectively as bad as it can possibly get. Like you said, anyone still alive and not out of their goddamn minds took off or bunkered down.

[ He and Rude, specifically, fall into the category of people who were out of their fucking minds, something he doesn't bother to explain. But then again, he can't speak for his partner exactly, but he doesn't really think of himself as the company. He's not loyal to Shinra Inc and couldn't really give that much of a damn that it fell. But Rufus Shinra, that's a different story.

His eyes drop back down to the phone, and... okay, first of all, this picture is crystal fucking clear. God damn, the camera on this thing is nice.

Secondly—Reno lets out a low whistle. ]

Damn. She's a beaut! And she's also against regulations, which is even better. Whose dick did you have to suck to get that approved? Or how many, maybe that's the better question.

You say desertion, I say self-preservation.

_{[ If every other SOLDIER wanted to throw their lives away by fighting a losing battle that's on them, not Roche. Sure, he still doesn't fully understand the reason behind the mass desertions that occurred a few years back but he gets it too. He just had no interest in getting involved in that particular mess when he wasn't even a Third (probably?) at the time. He had his at-the-time bike and he was content for a good while.

Though now he's been getting restless ever since running into someone but surely Roche can be excused for that. Will he ever go AWOL to chase after him? Will he hound the brass until they begrudgingly agree to let him off the proverbial leash to go? Only time will tell and that's even assuming he finds his way back "home" from this backwater town. Gongaga? Gone. ]}

Who says I knelt down for anyone, hm? Aside from the color I behaved myself and went through the right channels to get the parts I've got on her. I simply took something that was standard issue and rather drab on the eyes and made it better.

_{[ And it's still missing, the realization drawing a frown out of him for a moment. ]}

Though I might for the right piece. Gods know there's a lot of nonsense that goes on under the table in the AWD so I doubt it'd be impossible to cut the waiting line with methods like that.

_{[ Poor, poor Ottoman. ]}

Gods don't even want to know shit about the fucked up kinds of things that used to happen under those tables, believe me.

[ Not that he was ever under them himself, personally, but he knows a guy. ...Knew a guy. Man! This is awkward! It's weird, having to frame his own mind two years in the past when it's been so consistently stuck in the present. A zoom-out (he's getting the hang of pinching and pulling to see what he wants to see, look at him go!) tells him that these garages are basically the same, and the date on this picture feels like nothing more than the counter on a bomb, ticking its way down. Just x number of days, hours, minutes until the whole thing collapses in a pile of rubble that he and his partner will be digging through in search of Rufus. No more fancy red bike, no more Shinra building. No more Midgar.

And yet they're shooting the shit about what went on under the tables in the offices of people who bit the fuckin' dust and haven't even so much as crossed his mind once ever since. (And good riddance.)

Shaking his head, Reno starts to hand the phone back, then changes his mind and keeps it to poke around on. Don't mind him, he's just going to fuck around a little bit and see what he finds out. ]

I've known you five whole minutes and I don't believe for a second you're the type of guy who "behaves himself."

[ A super brief glance up. ]

SOLDIERs never are. Thirds, Firsts, doesn't matter. You're all a bunch of fucking troublemakers.

[ Probably why I liked 'em so much, he thinks about tacking on, but decides absolutely the fuck not. Reaches for his beer instead. ]

I behave myself when it benefits me. Better?

_{[ But no, Reno's right and he should say it. He watches him over the rim of his piss-water beer with a glimmer of giddiness in those eerie blues of his, even going as far as to wink until the Turk looks back down at the camera. Thankfully(?) there's nothing overly salacious to be seen. A shit-ton of shots from places he had no business being, stupid selfies with less-than-legal street racing in the background, other selfies where he's actively in the lineup, progress shots of the bike that don't really look like much of anything, some stray cat (looks like grandma, the fuckin' thing), and of course... Wall Market. Can't forget those nights, right? Obviously Roche couldn't either given the myriad pictures of himself with his arm slung around various people that look like they belong in a gang rather than in the company of a SOLDIER, and plenty of them even include too-friendly cheek and/or temple smooches.

There's hardly any with other SOLDIERs. ]}

You'll never catch me in a First-class uniform if it helps, by the way. I'm sure the perks are nice and glamourous but I'll pass on anything that takes me off of the road. A few have tried to recommend me for Second but that's always before they know how much of a handful I am, and if they're persistent enough after the fact I've always turned it down.

_{[ A beat, and then Roche drops his gaze to a few gouge marks on the table. He picks at one for a few moments, then sets his mug down almost on top of it. ]}

And between you and I? I have no real desire to spend days on end in a tank full of mako because of some ridiculous promotion. If you think it smells terrible as you are now...

_{[ One finger taps the side of his own nose. Hell on a SOLDIER's senses. ]}

Why ruin a good thing when I can keep up with them the way I am now?

[ It's pretty much all as he'd expect to see. Other than the phone in his hand itself, and maybe a few other things that seem just a tad more advanced than he remembers, that's... yeah. That's Midgar, alright. Not always the parts of it he bothered to frequent (man, this guy's a total speed-junkie, all these bikes and racing shit and all, plus his constant talk about the ride and the road, hoo boy), but still. Home-sweet-kinda-home. None of it really gives him any more intel than he already has, but he kind of hadn't figured it would. He's just snooping because he can. Because Roche hasn't stopped him, mostly, and he's curious about the tech. ]

"Perks're glamorous," he says.

[ There's another laugh, not quite as proper as the last one; too derisive for that. But it is pretty funny. ]

Kinda a damn shame, I was always partial to how the black looks on all you fuckin' tall, glowy bastards. That's basically the only perk, though. You still get paid like shit, you'd be up to your eyeballs in work, and I've got this running theory that all that damn Mako made 'em all crazy.

[ Well, well, well, look what we have here... the camera function. Just as soon as Reno discovers it, he immediately begins pointing it around and absolutely fucking boggling at how it all looks on-screen. When he trains it on Roche and those kooky glowing eyes of his, they seem even more unreal than in person, somehow. ]

How is this a fucking phone? This camera takes shots like a high-end digital. Not the kind of tech they'd just give out to Third Class nobodies.

After hearing some of the nonsense I've heard come out of a First's mouth I'm a little inclined to believe you and that's with people calling me crazy for going two-hundred in a seventy.

_{[ Which all things considered was probably one of the least offensive things Roche has done in his Shinra-centric career. As soon as Reno turns the camera on him, he flashes a wink and an air-smooch just to milk it, then makes a vague tapping gesture. Hit the thing that looks like a little handheld camera with arrows in it. The good ol' front camera. ]}

It beats the flips by a country mile, doesn't it? It's capable of everything they could do and more. They've been rolling out cheaper models to the public but these babies are top of the line. I put in for one the second I started seeing them around the building.

_{[ And he's broken at least a dozen since then but shhh. Shinra pays for it so who cares? ]}

You've really never seen one before?

Yeah, and that makes no sense. How'm I over two years into your future and you're the one with better tech...? That's a goddamn insu—oh. Fuck.

[ Absolutely outrageous. There's no way in the world SOLDIER would ever have better tech available to them than the Turks do. It's not a matter of who's more favored or whatever, it's simply a matter of need. The Turks require the best of the best because their jobs are sensitive and every tool counts, but SOLDIER? Basically meat shields. Hired swords. A phone is a phone, they don't need anything fancy. Maybe a decent camera, good roaming coverage, sure, but... yeah, this makes no fucking sense. He'd have to wonder if Roche stole it or something, but some of these other context clues make it pretty apparent he's just somehow experiencing a very strange dissonance in time that he has no explanation for.

But anyway, Oh fuck is when he figures out how to flip the camera around and gets a look at himself in glorious 4K. Not like he's allergic to mirrors or anything, but quite honestly, between the way life is back in Edge and the couple of days he's been in Aldrip, plus all the shenanigans at this party so far, he... is kind of mortified to see himself in this much detail. I mean, yeah, he's hot shit, he's always been hot shit, and he's always gonna be hot shit, but he also feels like he looks fucking tired. And skinny (hahaha that's a joke, right). And... yeah, tired.

Doesn't stop him from smirking as he fixes his hair, angles the camera and takes a selfie that somehow screams salacious even with all his clothes on, though. A quick check to make sure it came out hot (it did), and then he laughs and hands Roche his phone back, his other hand going to his pocket. ]

Somethin' to remember me by. And yeah, this is what the top of the line looks like where I come from. Mindja, the world fuckin' ended so there's not a lot of wiggle room for advancements right now, but that still don't explain this in a way I'm satisfied with.

[ Reno produces a cell phone that's clearly seen some wear, but for, y'know, a 2004 flip-phone, it's quite sleek. All the bells and whistles of 20 years ago. Pointedly, he doesn't unlock it for Roche to amuse himself with the same way Reno had with his, even as he hands it over for him to look at. ]

_{[ Positively flawless. Clearly Roche has no damn shame about admitting as such too if the low wolf whistle means anything. His eyes flick between the picture and the real deal sitting merely feet away, a laugh of his own slipping out to join Reno's. Yeah, this is something to remember him by alright. While he fiddles with something in his pocket Roche takes the time to start adding Reno to his short list of contacts. Not with his real name of course — Red fits just fine for the time being. Who knows? He could wake up one day to find that he suddenly has a signal in this damn town.

He sets it face-up to take the familiar black flip into his hands when Reno passes it over, and out comes another whistle of the wow variety. His thumb flips it open and he can't help but laugh again, turning it over this way and that. Yeah, this looked right. ]}

I do miss these ones if I'm honest with you. Don't get me wrong the ones we can get now are wonderful and put the old to shame as far as the insides go, but you've got them beat in this department;

_{[ Roche flips it shut with the trademark snap and the sigh that follows is almost... wistful? ]}

Hanging up on someone by tapping a red button isn't nearly as satisfying. And you can still attach those little cute charms on them. I'm a bit envious.

[ A few seconds go by where Reno just stares. Absolutely mind-fucking-boggling that he's talking about the latest and greatest in tech from the future as if it's some old, outdated and antiquated crap. What the hell is going on here? When he finally looks away, it's his turn to shoot a glance over at the mug of pissbeer sitting next to him on the table as if to say, I gotta lay off this shit. ]

You wanna trade? Be my guest. Sure as hell won't be taking selfies as good as the one I just did on that thing, though.

[ Frankly, that kind of takes the wind out of his slutty sails just a little bit. He's been confidently sexting to his heart's content on those shitty little phones for years, and in one fell swoop, every last nude has suddenly become kind of inadequate.

This is a travesty. Shaking his head, he holds his hand out. Even if they trade, he's still gotta wipe the data first. Just because they ain't back home anymore doesn't mean Roche is getting free access to Big Turk Secrets (or his collection of incredibly saucy, grainy and indistinct nudes, either). ]

If you had to guess, how long ago has it been since you last saw a phone like that?

And lose the pictures of my beloved? Mm... Tempting, but I think I'll pass for now.

_{[ How else will he track it down if he can't whip the pictures out and shove them into the face of every Tom, Dick, and Harry in town, demanding to know where they put her until he finds the truth? Don't make him draw any pictures, he's terrible at it. Roche fondly swipes his thumb over the face of it a few times and before he returns it to Reno he plants a tiny little smooch to the top of it. Mwah.

He's a motorhead but that doesn't mean he can't appreciate good tech okay?? Don't @ him on the quote retweets. ]}

If you mean in the hands of the brass... Normally I don't pay attention. Perhaps close to a year? They always get the new toys before anyone else. I know there's plenty in SOLDIER who still use these ones out of personal preference, and I see more of these across the city than I do in the building. The same goes for the underplate, albeit not nearly as often. You could try looking around Wall Market for some knockoffs though if you're really itching to get one.

[ Dude.

Well, okay, fine. If he can take a selfie that's half tits on Roche's phone, he guesses leaving cooties on his is fair play. He makes a face (half smirk, nose wrinkled) as he takes his phone back, and promptly snaps it open to stick Roche in his contacts. He's gotten so used to shitty or no signal at all in the last couple years that not being able to use his phone for much doesn't phase him, but you never know. He usually gets lucky whenever he needs to reach someone the most. ]

Yeah, see... that makes no sense. What the fuck?

[ Okay, so Roche has a point. Right after that assertion, Reno snaps his phone shut again with a very satisfying clack, decisive and full of finality. It really does just hit different on them damn smartphones. ]

I'm two fucking years ahead of you, and yet my tech's outdated, your ID number is way ahead of the serials we got up to in my time—even that shot of Wall Market looked off. I'm not a math guy, but I don't like when the facts don't add up.

Maybe somebody stepped on a butterfly and I'm from an alternate universe where everything is fancier.

_{[ He says it with such a straight face that it could almost be true, but not even five seconds later he ruins the illusion with a godsawful snort that dissolves into a giggle. The even sadder part is he's not even close to being drunk let alone buzzed. If only he was, man. If only.

SOLDIER took that tiny little joy away from him and life hasn't been the same ever since. ]}

Perhaps I do spend too much time in the garage with the doors shut. Thankfully that sort of thing only exists in movies unless R&D has been playing around with interdimensional travel without anybody knowing about it. I... try not to spend more time than I need to in their labs.

_{[ Gods, what if though. ]}

[ Sorry pal, no almost-smile this time. Reno's lips definitively do not quirk, not even at that heinous giggle, although it's not for a lack of wanting to. It's just the niggling feeling that something's off—way off—outweighing his willingness to dick around at this particular moment in time. It'll pass. Especially if he keeps drinking this disgusting piss beer, maybe. For the time being, he shakes his head, no. R&D was up to a lot of shit in his time, a lot of which they found out about and a lot of which they're going to find out in the thrilling, incredible edgy Vincent-focused sequel to all this, but time travel? Nah. ]

Yeah, well. If it makes you feel any better, there are no labs anymore. Hojo got rightfully wasted before Midgar even fell, and the rest went not long after.

[ Something he, pointedly, as well as Rude and Elena, can almost sort of take credit for. They had their orders and should've stopped Cloud and his friends in the tunnels, but instead they stepped aside. There was no point, and he's more than just a little happy with that choice he made, but... still, god, none of them could've known just what a turn things were about to take. If only things could've stayed that simple.

Alas. On the upside, a few seconds later, that serious expression softens into one of relative detachment as he shrugs his shoulders in resignation. ]

Whatever. I'm not gonna get anywhere stewing over it and I've got as much info outta you as I'm gonna get for right now. Don't think you're off the hook, though. Once I get this shit figured out, I'm gonna need to know more, and besides that, I might have use for an attack dog. Been awhile since I had a pet SOLDIER to sicc on people that piss me off.

[ There's a smirk, finally. Ah, yes, the good ol' days. ]

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(OPEN MINGLE) Ain't no party like an Aldrip party

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