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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[We’ll operate under the assumption that Dancing in Starlight isn’t a dream and he can actually dance that well, just as a treat. He starts off a little awkward, a little stiff, still not used to doing things that got him a lot of attention easily outside of the Metaverse. Hiding behind a domino mask and in a world where no one knew him or what he’d been falsely accused of was a lot easier— and it was easier regardless, now, after a year and a half of throwing away his fears and his masks for the greater good, but it was the principle of the thing.]

[He’d also managed to lose his glasses somewhere, because he was more than a little tipsy. So he’s grooving off on his own because he’s either lost or deliberately left Akechi behind because he was being a sourpuss (likely the latter), and Kotone twirls just so that her skirt exposes her Evoker. Like a Magpie toward a shiny object, Akira immediately drifts toward her, but he falls into step as she dances, following along. When she notices and offers her hand, he takes it and immediately pulls her toward him, spinning her under his arm.]

Hi. You have a gun on your leg?

[She laughs when he takes her hand and spins her, a bright, cheerful sound as she falls into step with him and lets him take the lead if he wants it. Her smile freezes for just a second, her eyes widening just a fraction before her practice with Dazai kicks in. Right. Don't let your face show anything. He caught her, but that's not the end of the world.]

Yeah! [She twirls under his arm, because there's no point lying when he obviously saw her Evoker, but continues before he can answer,] I almost didn't recognize you without all the flour, Kurusu-kun! How've you been?

[He can't help the way her laugh makes him smile, and while he absolutely Sees that split second of startle over his noticing her gun, he lets her gloss it over. For now. Keeping hold of her hand, he sways and wobbles, somewhere between loose dancing and complete uncoordination as he does.]

I've decided to go gluten-free. [A wink.] 'm good! Punch is definitely spiked though.

[She laughs again. It's a corn(flourless) joke, but it makes her laugh nonetheless. Maybe it's just the way he says it?

Her eyebrows quirk up when he says the punch is spiked, though -- she hasn't had any of it yet, but she was planning on it after dancing. Hmm... maybe not.]

Thanks for the warning. Is that what happened to your glasses?

[They're moving too much for her to safely tap near his eye, but it doesn't stop her from tapping two fingers against his cheek as if to draw his attention to the lack of frames.]

[He hums, the sound drawn out but still ambiguously affirmative, the tap to his cheek making him startle slightly.]

Yeah, they're... somewhere. Put 'm down so I wouldn't break 'em. [He shrugs. He doesn't tell her they're plano, that he doesn't really need them, but he seems to be getting along just fine, anyway. Let her think it's a low prescription, that's easier than "yeah I wear fake glasses because I discovered I don't like when people think I'm intimidating when I was advised to wear them to look less so after a false assault charge". Real mouthful, that.]

Hmm...

[After dancing, she'll help him look for them... or she'll just look herself and return them when he's more capable of keeping track of them himself. For now, she's having too much fun dancing -- if he's not worried, she won't worry about it!]

Well, I'll just have to make sure not to dance too far away so you can't see me! [She winks and shifts in closer as promised, a hand moving to his shoulder as she adapts follows along with his weirdly-coordinated swaying wobble.] You're having fun, right?

[He may well have handed them to someone after his third glass of punch, realizing that the punch was making him stupid. "Hold these for me," he'd have said, to a complete stranger who had no idea when he was going to return for them. He no longer remembers this stranger, or if he even actually did this, but it seems, currently, like a good idea he could have possibly had before the punch removed most intelligent thought from between his ears.]

[He makes a brief little peace sign with his free hand, chuckling low in his throat when she winks and not-quite startling at her hand on his shoulder. She's warm, in more ways than one, and it's quite pleasant. His eyes scrunch closed like a pleased cat in a sunbeam.] Yeah. You?

Of course!

[The band switches to a song with a different tempo, and she tugs him closer, taking control of their dance to swing him gently this way and that. He's tipsy at the very least, and Dazai has complained about that making him dizzy before, so she doesn't go as crazy as she might normally.]

Everyone I've talked to is having a good time. Stuff like this is really important for keeping people's spirits up. I kind of wish I'd thought of it!

[He appreciates you, Kotone. He sways with her, and he'd close his eyes if it wouldn't make the dizziness worse, but he definitely is blinking for longer periods of time than just to keep his eyes from drying out. He hums again, letting her excitement for people enjoying themselves soak into him like beams of sunlight, and he's reminded of Ann. A bit of Ryuji, too, and-- God she's just kind of a combination of them both, isn't she? He looks down at her with a strangely nostalgic smile that bleeds the tiniest amount of sadness until he trips over his own damn feet and nearly pitches right the fuck over.]

I appear to be having a good enough time I want to be on the floor, [He says quietly, laughing at himself.]

[He almost trips, and she laughs at him, bright, cheerful, and without a single hint of malice. Sorry, Akira, but it's funny! She does plant a hand in the middle of his chest to stabilize him, though, maybe with a bit more strength and ease than one might expect from how much smaller she is.]

Are you gonna be able to keep your feet, Kurusu-kun? [She winks at him as she keeps dancing, though she moves her hand from his shoulder to his hip to steady him a little bit more.] You can sit down for a while if you want, I don't mind.

[He halts against her palm and looks down so quickly he makes himself woozy, stunned and maybe a little attracted to the notion that a 5'3" tiny girlboss with a gun strapped to her thigh just supported nearly his entire weight.]

[If his ears go pink in his tangle of curls at her rearrangement and hand on his hip, well. Maybe she won't notice.]

[He makes a wordless little sound, settling his hand on her shoulder and continuing to sway with her, feeling the pink in his ears bleed inward to stain his face as he looks at her with a little more scrutiny.] ...y'still didn't tell me what the gun on your leg is.

[Oh is he... blushing? Cute. Her eyes sparkle a little bit as he tries once again to ask her about her Evoker, and she turns them just a little bit, just enough to pull him off balance for a half second before catching them again to hold him steady. He isn't the only one with a maxed charm stat.]

Surely a gun isn't the weirdest thing you've seen someone carrying in this village? I promise, it's not for use against people.

[Technically true -- it's not like shooting someone with it will kill them, probably. Just be terrifying and probably hurt like hell. Summoning a Persona isn't supposed to be easy, after all! But she doesn't know what might happen if someone didn't have the potential but was shot with an Evoker. She doesn't want to find out.]

[He makes a brief, aborted wah sound as she dips him, and grips her shoulder a bit harder, slowing his swaying until his feet stop entirely and he stands still, letting her drift out from under his hand if she wants but fighting a wave of dizziness that insists he stand still.]

[It takes him a moment to recalibrate and respond-- good job, Kotone.] Not the weirdest, no-- I did first come into the village covered in flour. What do you use it for if not people? [He's not letting this one go, though if she keeps insisting on dipping him he might take a break to toss his cookies.]

[She doesn't drift far! But she doesn't lose her smile, either. Maybe she'll dip him again, just for fun, until he drops the line of questioning. Then again, maybe not -- that seems cruel.]

To protect my friends. [It's the truest answer, really, as she gazes up at him. Her fingers squeeze lightly against his hip -- you okay there, bud? -- before she continues,] I mean, I could just as easily ask you what your knife is for.

[He shifts his weight just a hair more onto the foot under the hip her hand is on to lean into her grasp gently, just for a moment. He'll manage.]

That's a good not-answer, I guess. I use my knife to kill shadows. Or, used. Past-tense. [He's. Pretty candid about it all, actually.]

[Well. If he wanted a reaction, he'll get one. That hand on his hip tightens further, almost imperceptibly, and while her smile doesn't leave her lips, it doesn't quite reach her eyes as easily, either.]

What are Shadows?

[Her tone is still light and friendly, but she hasn't started dancing again, either.]

[He's not used to people having and keeping their hands on him, so the grip change is noticed, but feels more like a twitch to him. Given he's used to watching Akechi for reactions, he sees the way the smile doesn't reach her eyes, and his eyebrows crease together just slightly. Curiouser and curiouser.]

[He dips his head forward so his forehead is almost laid against hers. Somewhere, in the deepest parts of his soul, Arsène pulls in a way he hadn't noticed, prior.] 'm getting the sense you don't actually need me to answer that.

[Her breath doesn't quite catch, but her heart does leap into her throat as he leans in. Orpheus hasn't been part of her soul for a long time, but there's still an echo of her, more imagined than anything else that almost seems to connect for just the briefest of moments. Her expression slowly fades to something more neutral, less affected, as she keeps her eyes on his.]

I'd like you to answer anyway. [She tilts her head up, closer to his, and then lets her eyes slide toward the stairs with the motion.] Upstairs?

[Away from prying eyes and ears.]

[He'd never quite understood the wildcard power. Personas in general were a bit more straightforward-- the manifestation of one's spirit of rebellion, in his case. Arsène was very much that. The rest of them..., he felt a bit like a kid collecting baseball cards with.]

[Pockymon, his brain supplied on a delay. They'd be Pockymon cards. Funny little dudes, with different elements and abilities, and he was collecting them to have a deck to fight against... Well, maybe not, because nobody else played or had a whole deck. His eyes focused on Kotone again.]

[Unless...?]

[His eyes follow hers toward the stairs.] ...PubSec has a whole file on me, I don't really mind to talk out here, but... [He shifts, an odd amount of grace to his movements suddenly, and pulls her to his side as he pivots, walking toward the stairs.] Upstairs is fine.

[That's what the reaction is. Messiah had been created from Thanatos and Orpheus, the ultimate Persona that represented her and what had been SEES, what became the Nyx Annihilation Team. Judgement, born from Death and the Fool.

But it had been Orpheus. The Fool. She'd never met anyone else with the Fool arcana, if that's what it is. Maybe she's imagining all of it; Shadows could be literally anything. They don't have to be what she's familiar with. Maybe she's making a mistake. But she can't let this chance at information just go. She almost turns to see if she can spot Shinji but -- no. It could be nothing. No reason to wrap him up in this.]

Your room. [Her smile returns to her face, though it still doesn't quite reach her eyes still.] It's only fair after you got to see mine, after all.

[He rumbles in a quiet chuckle, and the sudden catlike grace persists as he guides them to the stairs.] You'll have to forgive that it's wildly uninteresting. [He keeps his arm around her shoulders, but it's loose-- it's not a commandeering hold, just a friendly one. It's also possibly to keep him steady because the adrenaline of Maybe Meeting Another Wildcard is pumping Joker's confidence into his veins and making him significantly more alert, but he's still stupidly inebriated.]

I'm not interested in your room.

[She quirks her eyebrows at him as she glances back, but keeps moving without hesitation up the stairs. She knows which room is his -- she'd gotten him the key, after all -- and had spent enough time there previously to lead the way, in manner if not literally.

She does at least wait for him to unlock it instead of testing to see if he'd left it unlocked. All the while, she's watching his behavior, the odd confidence and -- is it excitement? -- in his bearing keeping her attention completely.]

[He does unlock the door, because he may be the Fool, but he's not generally stupid. He opens the door and gestures for her to head in first, bending just slightly at the waist and making the sweeping motion of his arm a bit grander than it needs to be.]

[It's pointedly reminiscent of Igor.]

So, you're familiar with Shadows.

You first.

[It doesn't remind her of Igor, not really -- with an ache in her heart, it reminds her of Theo, his sweeping, gentlemanly behavior. Normally, she might wait to be told where to sit. This time, she moves forward and sits on the edge of his bed, crossing her legs and propping herself up on her arms. It's not strictly intended as a power move, but more to impress her seriousness upon him. If they're going to get anywhere, he has to start.]

[He was quiet and subdued, generally, even if the alcohol had made him silly. But this was something different altogether-- he could feel the sharpness of the grin that pulled his lips wide from his teeth.]

I'm the leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Didn't I tell you part of that already? [He knows that's not what she's asking, not really. The inclination to be coy outweighed his interest in supplying her something more direct.]

2; dance magic dance

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i keep trying to make sure i use icons of him without his glasses gndfjkn

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