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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.
no subject
Frenemies? It's a thought for another time, another Aerith, one who is not caught up in delivering drink and food orders when she likely has no business to be doing either. Reno pops right up, smoothly interjecting, and whatever surprise flutters across her expression is short-lived before she wears a small smile, halfway bordering on mirth and amusement.]
They don't have to pay me for this. [If anything, she almost feels like Aldrip is owed this. They could all be in cells, eating nothing except water and stale bread. Or whatever it is people in cells get fed.] How long have you been here? I would have seen you sooner.
[Heard. She would have heard him sooner.]
no subject
Ah, yeah. That's definitely An Emotion he's experiencing. Been awhile since he had one of those. Easy to confuse with nausea. Maybe he should lay off the beer. It's pretty gross beer anyway. Pointedly, Reno doesn't actually drink that drink he stole, even after the traces of just saw a ghost vacate his expression again. ]
Couple days. Lying low, y'know. Anyway—what's the going rate, again? One gil? Or is it still ten million-billion-trillion gil for me?
[ He's got a gil handy. He fishes it out, even if it's worth dirt here and dangles it between them. Anything to help him grapple with what he's feeling right this second. ]
Here, and don't ever say I don't ever do anything for you. If they won't pay you, somebody's gotta.
no subject
Welllll, I very much doubt you have ten million-billion-trillion gil...
[Unless...? No. Highly unlikely. He offers up the gil he has, which is a refreshingly nice thing to see. It's not like she arrived with any, after all. But to be fair, she arrived with... pretty much nothing except what she was wearing. She lifts a hand to take it, but then with a smile, she refrains.]
This isn't going to do you any good here. They don't take gil. Here—I'll show you. [Leaning back a touch, she dusts her hands over herself as if she's trying to remember where she's put her slowly-growing stash of new world coin. She withdraws one, the strange shape it is, like a chunk of it is missing, with the wave emblem on the metal.]
See? But even if you don't have any, the locals are pretty willing to do trades and stuff. I haven't had to really pay for much of anything since I arrived.
no subject
No, yeah, she's right, Reno's as good as dead broke these days. Rufus can basically only pay him in Trident Layers at this point, but that's fine. He's got enough in his pocket to pay for a round at the bar and isn't that all that really matters? ]
Ahhh, yeah. Those. Explains why the guy at the bar acted like I was some sad little orphan. Must've looked like I was tryin' to pay with acorns or something.
[ For a second—just a second—he kind of forgets how surreal this is. Grinning, flicking the gil he's still holding with his thumb and then catching it in his hand to drop it back in his pocket, talkin' to the flower girl. She could be showing him some Sector 8 thing she found, some kinda flower he can't identify, or anything else. Just a regular day—until it comes crashing back down that it isn't. There's no Sector 8, no church, no Midgar, and no flower girl. What a mind job.
Just be normal. That's all he has to do. Just be normal, and it'll... it'll make sense eventually. Right? ]
No surprises there. Always were the queen of haggling. You got a garden set up here, too?
no subject
Maybe he thinks of her in much the same way. Someone he can trade witty barbs with.
Aerith looks a bit pleased when he coins informal title for her. Queen of haggling, is it? Yes. That sounds about right. She’s pretty good at working out a deal. It’s amazing what a little bit of nice and a smile will get you.]
I don’t actually. Not yet. I’m planning to help someone here with one she wants to plant, though. I’ve thought about making one for myself as well. There’s this field that we planted some months ago, but it was more like something we all did. That’s almost good enough. I want to share flowers with everyone, after all.
[After a moment’s consideration, she continues.]
Are you offering to plant one with me just for me?
no subject
No. It's not just anything. It's sentimentality he doesn't have a place for, that's what it is. Not because Aerith doesn't warrant it, just that it's not... real? Jury's still out on that, but until he knows for sure just what the hell is happening here, he's not about to let himself feel a damn thing. Could be a trick of this place, who knows.
And yet. Maybe it's just her, but it's so hard to help, and it's a hell of a lot worse than it ever was two-or-so years ago. Doesn't take a genius to figure out why that is, either. Reno rubs the back of his head, laughing weakly. ]
Aw, you know I'm no good with that stuff. Pretty sure I got a black thumb. Might be able to convince me to stand watch and make sure nobody steps on the flowers, though. I'd never screw that job up.
[ hahahaha oops ]
no subject
[Considering she's already got Cloud in her ear reminding her that she owes him, she can imagine hearing a repeat of that from Reno, as well. But she also imagines that Reno standing at attention, watching over a flowerbed would be a little intimidating. Who would be brave enough to traipse over flowers with him watching over them?
Probably no one, honestly.]
You'd be pretty good at that, though. I'll have to keep that in mind when it comes into being. But I could also teach you more about flowers if you wanted. All it takes is the desire to learn and I'm confident that I can teach anyone.
[If she can teach someone like Cloud, then surely she can teach anyone else who crosses paths with her.]
no subject
Whatever, it's not as if she doesn't find ways to get on his last nerve sometimes, too. Gotta keep themselves entertained while they play cat-and-mouse somehow. ]
I'm confident you could too, even if it's 'cause you dunno the word "no," but, eh...
[ Flowers? Him? Laughable. But on the other hand, it'd give him an opening to investigate this more closely. Maybe she slips up and he figures out it's not really her, just some kind of an imposter, or...? It's way too early to theorize. All he knows is that he can't possibly pass it up. (And if he's also feeling like he wants to say yes for other reasons, no he doesn't, shut up. He feels nothing.) ]
Y'know what? Okay. I'm in. Sign me up for Flowers 101, professor. Since I'm such a professional, I want the full crash course. No cuttin' corners!
no subject
[She doesn't really have an excuse for this. It's true that maybe she should be a little more considerate of other people. It's not necessarily that she's inconsiderate, though sometimes Aerith simply doesn't know when to leave well enough alone. To call her 'pushy' would be a bit of an understatement, as it were.]
I just don't really listen. There's a difference.
[Aerith looks proud of pointing that out, as if it's less matter of opinion and more matter of fact. But that's how she is. She gets an idea into her head and she's just compelled to follow it. Somehow, in one way or another, she seems to get her away. Reno just solidifies that in the moments that follow.
Grinning from ear to ear, she finds her voice once more.]
Really? Well, now that you've gone and said that, I feel like I might have to be a little tougher on you than I am with others. I don't want anyone thinking I'm playing favourites or something. But I guess maybe you could be teacher's pet every once in a while.
[Because the fact of the matter is that their unique relationship is bound to let him have a little special treatment.]
no subject
[ No one can say she isn't self-aware! If she's proud of herself for saying it, Reno's proud of himself for getting her to admit it, not that it took that much work. He knows, she knows, everyone knows who really runs the show here. If it were anyone else, she'd have been right back in her cage at HQ.
(Just... let's not think about the part where—yeah, no, not thinking about it.) And anyway, with the way Reno leans back, tossing his head with a grin of his own, he's clearly plenty smug, himself. Cocky, too. At least in this case, it's easy to harken back to the good ol' days; he barely has to try when the energy she gives off goes straight to his "act like a jackass" center. It's just the overthinking that's a challenge, but hey, enough of this nasty beer should probably fix that. ]
You better be tough on me! I learn best under pressure, after all. And for the record, I make a terrible pet. Always chewing stuff up, not coming when you call... might hafta resort to drastic measures. Like a shock collar or somethin'. You could even deck it out in flowers and stuff to keep with the theme.
[ He says as if he's not immune to lighting. It's the thought that counts. ]
no subject
[It comes as no surprise. Reno has, to her knowledge and experience, often come off not necessarily as uncaring, but rather unapologetic. He does what he has to and if he has to do it, regardless of whatever personal feelings he might host on the matter, he understands that sometimes business is just business. Maybe that's why she doesn't immediately consider him particularly threatening or horrendous. Like so many other people in Midgar, Reno must do what he can to make ends meet.
And to be fair, it's not as if the Turks that have come into contact with her have been awful. They are nothing in comparison to men like Hojo. If they knew what he was doing, what he wanted to do with her, would their feelings be any different? Perhaps not. It is likely that a Turk isn't to let their personal feelings interfere with the mission, as it were.
But enough about that.]
If you're just going to misbehave right out of the gate, I'm gonna put you on a leash. But then you might enjoy that! I feel like I can't win here. Shock collars aside, though, I think making something with flowers is a good idea... If I made you something, would you wear it? As like, I don't know. Advertisement? It'd keep me out of trouble.
[Probably. Maybe.]