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

[electroburst]

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.

Comments

reno / ff7

[electroburst]

"one particular new arrival"

[ Who fired ordered the first shot?

Reno, that's who.

Listen. He has priorities. And he saw to them already. He hasn't been able to contact his partner, his boss, or literally anyone else whose number he has in his phone that doesn't work, and he's already done his intel-gathering asking around. In situations where you've been separated from your crew, the best thing to do is pick a spot and wait. The inn is as good a one as any, considering that it seems to be the place where everyone who's anyone are shuffled to. And it just so happens that while he's there, waiting, there's a bar. And where there's a bar, there's people who'll come to drink. And where there's people, there's more information. And a much-needed distraction.

So yeah, Reno shoots the first shot. And then starts handing them out to everyone else, and now here they are. He's racking up a tab he might not ever be able to pay off, but if you're one of the more early-arrivers, don't worry about ordering: the redhead's gotchu. The moment you sit down at the bar, a tankard with, metaphorically, your name on it slides down your way, and there's Reno giving a two finger salute and a nod. Unless you talk to him first, he'll even leave you be to enjoy it for a minute. But not for long. After you've had that one, maybe another, that's when he slides over to start digging for dirt, cleverly disguised as small-talk (or maybe casual flirting). ]

So. You been in Aldrip long?

"somebody" knocking on doors

[ So maybe you managed to ignore the commotion until about midway into the night, when suddenly there's a rapidfire rapping on your door and a voice calling out, hey, come join the party! If you're quick to open the door, you might just manage to glimpse a glimpse of a red ponytail flicking around the corner, but the little shit responsible for disturbing the peace is a fast little shit, so there's no time to catch him before he's gone.

But, like, I mean, how many redheads are there in Aldrip anyways?

Down in the tavern, Reno's easy to spot. Flaming red hair, a barely-buttoned black suit, now loudly and animatedly engrossed in some gambling game at one of the back tables. He arrived here with a pack of smokes that he's been conservatively burning through all night, and he taps the ashes off into an empty tumbler glass while someone else at the table takes their turn rolling the dice.

Maybe you're here to wring his neck for bothering you. Or maybe you're genuinely here to join the game. Or maybe it's something else. Either way, Reno looks up as a newcomer approaches and gestures, cig between two fingers, at an empty seat next to him. ]

You want in? Put somethin' in the pot and grab a seat, we're just getting started!

"those still dancing on tables"

[ Alright, fine, so he's not dancing. Probably did some of that earlier, though. But he is standing up on a table, and there's a really good reason for that: it's because a fight's broken out (blame the two idiots with swords) and Reno, not one not to stick his nose in someone else's business, feels the need to commentate like a wrestling announcer. One guy gets his lights punched out and Reno lets out a sympathetic ohhh! into the empty bottle he's using as a "microphone," the table underneath him rocking from side to side as he shifts around on it so that he doesn't miss a moment of the brawl.

It's fine. He's a pretty lightweight guy. Not a lightweight when it comes to the alcohol, so much, but yeah, he's got a pretty good buzz going, too. ]

Man, this guy's unstoppable! Isn't anyone gonna give him a real fight? Anybody? Hey, what about—you? Yeah, you! You with the hair! You look like you know a thing or two about kickin' ass.

[ He probably doesn't actually think that. Or maybe he does. Who knows. At this point, he's just trying to keep the action going for his own entertainment. Either way, how can you say no to that encouraging grin? Never mind the dude he's trying to set you up to fight with who is fully knocking people out with a chair. That's not important. ]

C'mon, I hear there's a prize for the winner.

[ No there isn't. ]

(Or WILDCARD! Reno will be all over: inside and outside, dancing, eating, drinking, playing games, occasionally lurking suspiciously in the corner. He will talk to, attempt to wrangle gossip out of, and flirt with basically anybody. If you have an idea, hit me with it, no need to ask! And if you're a castmate he'd recognize, we can do something different, too.)

new arrival!! redheads gotta stick together

[orphne]

[Normally Kotone is the one to try to get someone to organize something like this. Having it done without any input from her at all? This is the absolute dream, thank you so much. The sliding-tankard makes her laugh, though, as she skips up to the bar. It looks like something out of a movie! But she passes it back and shakes her head, hopping up onto the stool beside him.]

No thanks! I'll have something later. [Whatever's in the tankard smells... not great. All yours, buddy.] I've been here for about a month. You're new here, right? I'm Kotone Shiomi.

REDHEAD SOLIDARITY

[electroburst]

[ Don't go recruiting him for student council, now. He's a little old for that. (He'd eat that shit right up though. Never had a prom u_u a tale too tragic for words*

*citation needed)

He's happy to have the drink himself, though, settling into a stool beside Kotone and pulling the tankard his way with a little grin before he throws it back. It's utter horsepiss, but he doesn't bat an eye over it. No reason to when it's mostly water and pure scuzz. ]

Heh, do I just scream "newbie," or does everybody here know each other that well? —But yeah, I just got here a couple days ago. Reno.

[ Handshakes are for dweebs, he settles for a tip of his head. ]

Bet you've seen a lot in that month. Any crazy stories to share?

[orphne]

[She won't lead with the club offer, but like, she is ready to recruit any and everybody at a moment's notice...

But based on the smell alone from the tankard, she isn't sure if she should be disgusted or impressed with the way he downs it -- so she settles on a giggle and a nod.]

I try to keep track of everybody in town! The "Chosen," [and she does air-quotes with a roll of her eyes,] especially kind of stand out, so it's a little easier!

["Keep track of everybody," usually means, "meddle in everyone's business," but like, don't worry about it. She returns his head-tip with one of her own and a soft hum.]

Nice to meet you! I don't know about crazy... Oh! [She points toward the ceiling as she remembers something.] I guess the craziest thing is that there's supposed to be a dragon living in the mountains! That's what all the locals say, anyway.

[electroburst]

[ Both are a valid reaction. Mostly the former. For his part, Reno rolls with it, but there's a reason he immediately reaches for the cheese and crackers a moment later and it sure ain't because he's all that hungry. It's because it chases away the skunk taste. ]

Makes sense.

[ Not even sarcastic. He's just the same. See: the whole reason he started this ruckus in the first place. Snooping, meddling, keeping track, it's all just a rude way to say doing your due diligence.

Mid-construction of a very Lunchables-like cracker and cheese sandwich, Reno stops short. ]

A dragon? Anybody seen it yet? ...Is it guarding treasure or somethin', you think?

new arrival

[fluorite]

[ Fai isn't too surprised to see the redhead that slid a beer over to him come back after he's had a couple of mugs. He shakes his head, his smile wide and easy as he leans forward in his stool so he can rest his chin in his hand. ]

Not at all. I'm still learning the ropes around here.

[ And people watching, in the very, very small chance that he might spot one of his companions walk through the door as more and more people start to filter in. ]

What about you?

[electroburst]

[ Not that he's been gawking the whole time or anything, but while he's waited for Fai to soften up on a couple pints, he's taken notice of where his gaze darts to the most: toward the door. Doesn't paint the most informative profile in the world, though, really, because Reno's just the same when he isn't scoping out the people that're already here—he's practically got one eye on the door and the other working overtime.

Can't help it. ]

Same. Just got in a couple days ago, thought my best bet'd be the bar and haven't been disappointed yet. By the people, anyway. Beer could use some work.

[ Straight reekwater, but that doesn't stop him from flagging the bartender to get himself a cup for himself, if only so he has something to do with his hands. Sitting and talking without a drink in front of you is basically a crime. ]

You hear anything interesting yet? Something other than the buzz about busted fridges, I mean. Sick of hearing that one. God damn, just hire a repairman, it ain't hard.

[fluorite]

[ And his gaze goes right back to the door whenever a new group of people walk in, though his eyes never seem to light up in recognition. ]

Mm, I've definitely had better beers.

[ Honestly, most of the beers he's had have been better than this one. Alcohol is alcohol, however, so he won't complain. Too much. He takes a sip, suppressing a laugh at the mention of the fridges so he doesn't sputter beer everywhere. ]

Ah, I heard about that too. Made it much easier for me to remember that those little containers are called fridges.

[ First cars in the last world he was in, now fridges here. He's having to learn a lot of technology. ]

As for what I've heard about... I believe there's a new garden now, and I heard something about there being a number of statues in it.

[electroburst]

[ Reno shuffles a note to ask who he's looking for around in his mind. Not right away, but eventually. When there's a lull in the conversation and he's caught Fai doing it for the fiftieth time, maybe. In the meantime, he throws back a sip of that beer once he has it, lips pulling back just a little at the taste, but not enough to count as a full on grimace. ]

"Little containers"? You from the country?

[ He's... sort of getting his head around this "different worlds" thing. Yet another good reason for a party: so he can get a better grasp on what exactly that means in practical application. ]

Oh, yeah, those statues. You seen 'em? I did a driveby earlier. "Saviors," I think the plaque said. I'd love to know what this place got saved from.

"""dancing"""

[meiren]

[ He'd been perfectly content to continue to sit quietly and ignore the growing brawl, if mostly because he'd judged pretty early on that everyone involved was probably impressively drunk and Zhou Zishu was nowhere near that level yet. Even the shouting hasn't really phased him, focused enough on drinking as he is. At least not until the guy on the table starts yelling in his direction, and when Zhou Zishu glances over he finds the man staring straight at him.

The whole thing earns an arched eyebrow, but Zhou Zishu finds himself studying the man for a moment, measuring the easy way he rides out the table being rocked. Zhou Zishu has seen a lot of drunk idiots punching each other. This is much more interesting. ]

Are you offering?

[ Somehow he manages to make himself heard over the din without really raising his voice. It's a skill. ]

[electroburst]

[ He's got that table pretty thoroughly wrangled, his feet placed without being completely spread to either side of it, shifting his balance every time it wobbles. It gives a real jolt as Reno moves himself closer, but he catches it before it flips, once again. ]

What, the prize? I might have a few'a those weird coins to throw in the pot, sure... if you're good, I mean.

[ He did just spend a good chunk of the night gambling, after all. Did pretty alright for himself, insofar as anyone can in a rowdy tavern full of drunk people from different worlds. ]

Unless you mean a fight, in which case... maybe. Depends.

[meiren]

Depends on...?

[ Safe to say what he's after, then. Well that and the fact that he's entirely focused on Reno now, eyes slightly narrowed despite the faint amusement in his expression. He hadn't actually been looking for a fight, but he won't exactly turn one down if it lands in his lap either.

There's been a sad lack of fights, really. No one's tried to kill him once since he's gotten to this strange place, and it makes him a little antsy. Zhou Zishu should really try to find a hobby, probably. But this will do for the meantime. ]

You can't just be interested in watching.

[electroburst]

Heh, you kiddin'? I love to watch.

[ Phrasing.

It was intentional actually, just kidding. You could blame it on the alcohol, though, since he certainly seems to have had his fair share—enough to be table-surfing and yelling into an empty bottle, the faintest flush visible in the apples of his cheeks, but not so much that he's slurring and, uh, falling off that table.

All phrasing aside, though, Reno seems to catch on to something a lot more fun than what he's currently doing, and stops wobbling from side to side in favor of planting his feet evenly so that the table stays firmly upright, the empty bottle dangling between two fingers. ]

Depends on if you stand up for a sec. Don't worry. I'm not gonna throw it.

[ The bottle, he means. He lets it drop gently onto the table beside him as insurance. ]

dancing on the tables

[touchofcashmere]

I would say I'm quite seasoned at kicking ass. I've been a pirate for quite a while now, you know. [and he's more than a little tipsy as he rolls up his sleeves]

But, be warned! I won't be gentle on you!

[electroburst]

A pirate? Who the hell is a pirate anymore? Airships got those damn security systems on 'em now and nobody wastes their time with boats anymore.

[ Reno laughs, a little incredulous—and then stops short, waving his hands (and the bottle he's holding). ]

Not me, I mean that guy! I'm just commentating, see?

[touchofcashmere]

[well that's a new one honestly] Plenty of people! My co-captain for one. [and then because he has to know] What's an airship?

[he looks at the assembled bunch of toughs]

That guy? [and he points hopefully to the scrawniest of the bunch]

[electroburst]

A ship that flies, man, c'mon! What does it sound like? You've never seen an airship before?

[ While all this banter is going on, the crowd of Dudes Looking To Fight hasn't gotten any less rowdy. Reno, naturally, scoffs loudly and shakes his head, using the beer bottle in his hand to point out another: ]

Nah. That guy.

[ The biggest, burliest one of the bunch, of course. ]

new arrival, apologies in advance

[aintyourdad]

Couple months. I was in the first group that showed up, I guess.

[ Joel figures he owes this guy an answer, given that he just bought him a beer. He raises the tankard up slightly in acknowledgment, but his demeanor is not, on the whole, one inviting of more conversation. ]

never apologize

[electroburst]

[ Don't worry, Joel, he knows how to work those grumpy sources that don't want to give up the details. He settles in, leaving some space between them, and orders a beer for himself just to have a good reason to stay there, other than the conversation. ]

First group? Folks tend to show up here all at once or somethin'? Can't say I really noticed, but I also wasn't about to stick around some empty field like a sitting chocobo, either.

[aintyourdad]

Seems like they show up in waves. A bunch of us showed up, then a few weeks later, some more came.

[ So, a pattern. He's not thought about it beyond that, beyond "apparently once a month or so, a bunch of new people get kidnapped". He sips his beer casually. ]

[electroburst]

Huh. Probably worth digging into, or it would be if we had access to whoever it is that's been...

[ Gesturing kind of aimlessly with one hand. "Kidnapping us"? "Dragging us here"? Insert whatever verb makes sense here—he can't decide which one. Once he's got his drink, he lays into it with a long sip. ]

If that were the case, though, I wouldn't have to go wheedlin' it outta guys like you.

new arrival

[oracledriven]

Thanks.

[Apparently everything I'm doing with him involves food and drink, so let's just go with it. It's with a mix of mild trepidation and curiosity that Noel takes the tankard, not because he's underage or anything --no one on Nova Chrysalia has cared about that for a laughably long time-- but because in spite of his depressingly long time being alive, he's never tried the stuff.

Well. Now's as good a time as any, right?

He sniffs it first, makes a face, determines it probably tastes better than it looks...and cautiously goes for it. Then, with a little urk! and a pained expression, he determines that no, it does not taste better than it looks. He's almost too distracted to hear the question, but manages to start cleaning himself up --it's bad, it's gross, it's making his eyes water-- enough to nod a bit.]

A few months, I guess. [In lieu of asking the same, thinking he'd probably have noticed a guy like this before, he instead points at the tankards.] Is this some kind of weird prank? Do people really drink this stuff?

[electroburst]

[ It figures he'd wind up serving that drink up to a Booze Virgin, but that's okay. Everybody's gotta start somewhere, and sometimes that starting point is at the worst time, with the worst people, drinking the worst shit. Life comes at you fast, man.

Somebody polite might try to hide their reaction to Baby's First Drink, but Reno isn't somebody polite, so he does in fact heh at him, which is at least marginally less offensive than like, outright pointing and laughing. And hey, he gets credit for choking it down and managing to answer the question anyway. You go, tall guy. ]

They do when pisswater's the only booze on the menu. You want a buzz, it doesn't matter where you get it from, so long as it works.

[ Reno hails the bartender for a drink of his own, which might honestly be more a show of solidarity than anything else. He's not that dedicated to the buzz, and yeah, it's pretty rancid. But what else are you gonna do in a tavern. Just sit and talk? Like a weirdo? ]

I'd say you stop noticing the taste after awhile, but... it's more like you just stop caring.

[oracledriven]

[Okay, just-- look, Noel doesn't care about getting a chuckle over his apparent inability to drink gross stuff, but he does give Reno a concerned look. He tries the drink again, just to be sure, and-- hmm, nope, it's still pretty bad. Gods, do people really drink this? This is the sort of thing that makes him wonder if he really missed out on much after all.

Anyway, back to giving Reno that concerned look.]

You're telling me that the point is to keep drinking until you stop caring that it tastes like rotten vegetables? [Do not ask how he knows what rotten vegetables taste like just don't.] Don't you think that's kind of...sad?

[Listen to him. He is an authority on things that are kinda sad.]

[electroburst]

Yeah. To both.

[ Did you have to describe it that way, though, man. This may not be the first he's tasted of the skunky beer here, but that doesn't stop him from receiving his mug, lifting it, and having to physically restrain himself from making a face at the smell. God dammit... it smells kinda like old celery. Now it's in his head.

Oh well. Big sip. ]

Drinkin's supposed to be fun, but when you think about it, it's kinda fucked up. I mean, alcohol's a depressant. You just don't notice 'cause when you stop caring about the taste, you stop caring about anything. Totally worth it!

[ Is that... irony... yes. Maybe. No? Yes. Who knows. Don't worry about it. Shhh, only drinking now. Reno makes a point of finishing his tankard just like that and sets it pointedly on the counter for a refill, smirking crookedly. ]

Don't overthink it, man.