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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[He rumbles a quiet laugh, and a few of his fingers press into the back of his other hand, counting.] Mmmn..., four? More than three, but I don't remember finishing the fourth.

[The laughter might be a faint but it is enough to tickle the side of his cheek. Akechi shivers slightly at that but still doesn't pull away from Akira. The hold is warm and strangely pleasant. He doesn't even register the lack of the usual disdain that he feels whenever someone gets too close.

Then, his eyes lock on the half empty glass in front of them. He pauses for a bit before reaching out to grab the it and down the already lukewarm drink in one go. It's not pleasant but thank god his taste buds have already started to go numb.]

Four.

[He doesn't follow the turning wheels in Akechi's head immediately, but-- when has he ever, really. When he downs the drink and puts the glass back down, declaring four, a slow smile pulls his mouth wide and he leans into the side of his neck.]

Then we're even. I can't get up to get another with you leaning on me.

[Well, to be fair Akechi's thought process is right now compromised by the amount of alcohol. So the wheels are turning much slower and it takes a little bit longer even for him to land on the conclusion he's looking for.]

Is that a complaint, Kurusu?

[He laughs a bit more openly, then-- the sound shakes his shoulders in silence and rattles his chest until he leans his head back and lets a soft chuckle break out of him.] Not in the least. You're warm.

[Akechi can feel the vibrations of his chest against his back as he laughs. It's the first unpleasant sensation of this whole thing he's felt so far and his lips form the his usual frown. But fine.. Getting up just because of that feels like too much work. Especially now that he can feel the cozy buzz from the last drink settling in his body.]

It's hot. [He leans back, throwing his head on Akira's shoulder and stretching out his throat.]

So you don't hate me either? [A follow-up to Akira's earlier question. It's not really something that Akechi could ever think of himself asking if he were a sober. Again, there hadn't been a need to. What Akira felt towards him hadn't -- didn't matter.]

[Akira leans his own head just enough to the side to give Akechi enough space to put his head there comfortably, and catches himself watching the column of his throat where it meets his clavicle with an alarming amount of intensity. His mouth goes dry, so he swallows, and clears his throat at the question.]

Never have. [He is down so fucking bad.]

'f course not. [The words are huffed out as places the empty glass back on the table with loud "clang". His movements are lacking the usual refinement and poise just as his tongue becomes more heavy and sticky. But that sure doesn't stop him from speaking!]

You always like just everyone, don't you? Your sentimentality makes your heart bleed just about to anyone out there and makes it impossible for you to ignore others even if it'll end up hurting you. You'll forgive even the bad eggs coming your way with fucking open arms.

[He waves his hand in air as he rambles on. Then when he's finished he turns his head just enough that he can gain a glimpse of Akira's eyes.] Isn't it so?

[As Akechi sits up and away from him, spitting his usual vitriol, Akira watches the line of his shoulders. It's not that he isn't listening to what he's saying-- he hears every word. He just understands that Akechi isn't really spitting vinegar at him, he's spitting it at himself. It makes the fading heat of where he was leaned against him feel much colder.]

You're different. [It's a simple statement, but a very firm one, and he holds eye contact.]

[There's another scoff from him and eyes rolling. Akechi doesn't really stop to think the possible meaning behind Akira's response but instead continues his berating.]

Huh? Fair 'nough. I suppose I'm the only one who actually came close to killing you. Among the other things.

That's-- [He reaches out, puts a hand on his shoulder, and pulls gently. The cold in the space between them sinks into his bones and slowly spreads to his extremities, and he hates it.]

I don't wanna talk about this drunk.

You're drunk. [The childishness of his words hit him immeadiately after they leave his lips. With a slight flush and pout on his face he allows Akira to pull him back to warmness of his embrace. This time he settles in, allowing himself to slide lower on the bench so that his head is high enough only to rest against Akira's chin.]

It'd be easier if you'd hate me.

Edited 2023-04-26 02:20 (UTC)

Yeah, [The childishness is-- charming, in a way. It's unlike him, or unlike what he was ever willing to display sober. When Akechi settles against him, Akira feels the warmth slowly seep back into his limbs, and simultaneously feels some small part of himself fracture. It'd be easier if you'd hate me. It really would, wouldn't it?]

Do you want me to?

[The answer should be pretty darn obvious by now. There's a brief, very shaky memory of Maruki from the day where they had handed him the calling card. The piece of shit therapist had, too, said it out loud. Their bond was not one of the hatred but something more special. And that in different circumstances it could have blossomed into something entirely different. Gross. The alcohol is making him sentimental.]

If you did I'd deal with it. [Not a straight answer but the meaning is there. No, he doesn't want Akira to hate him. But if he did he'd learn to live with it just like with everything else.]

[He catches that. The unspoken like everything else. Because Akechi had always dealt with everything. No matter what came his way, what shit hand he was given, he handled it. Alone.]

[Akira's arms slowly reach up and encircle his shoulders, and he sets his chin on top of his head.] Well I don't, so you'll have to deal with that, instead.

Aren't I the lucky one. [What would their relationship be without a little snark?

Akechi head turns to side to adjust their position so that Akira's chin won't be directly digging into his scalp. There, much better.]

What do you want then?

[He allows the adjustment, keeping his head atop Akechi's but settling so the soft part between his jawbones is at the crown of his head. It's more comfortable for both of them, probably. He rumbles a wordless intonation, raising his shoulders in the slightest of shrugs.]

Friendship, if you'll let me call it that. [He can't, and honestly won't try to quantify it any other way before they can reach the milestone of calling each other friends.]

[Ah, there you go. Using words like that, which makes Akechi's heart feel heavy and cold. The sad part is that only a few years earlier he would have given anything to have someone to call his friend. Now the whole concept has drifted far away from him, making it feel only unnatural to him.]

Being rivals isn't enough? So greedy.

[He closes his eyes, inhales, counts backward from ten, and exhales. Opening his eyes again doesn't show him anything different, but he wraps his arms around Akechi's shoulders a little tighter. He'll probably never get to do this again.]

...somebody ought to be. [Greedy and hoarding of Akechi, that is. He clearly won't love himself enough for it.]

[He doesn't say anything to that at first, lips only barely drawing back into a thin line as the hold around him tightens. All of the sudden he's very aware of their position, how close they are and just how hot and constricting Akira's arms are around him. It's almost suffocating and part of him wants to struggle himself free from all of this.]

And this is what your friendship is like? I feel like I need another drink. [Attempted joke. Akechi's certainly had more than enough to drink, especially when considering that he is complete novice with handling alcohol.] Let's go get more.

[Akira's hold is steadfast, and he doesn't move.]

I think we've had enough, 'kechi.

Are you ordering me now? I'm your senior, you know. [Except he isn't anymore, is he? Akira has moved past him.]

Fine. If not drinks then let's go out. [Anything but staying here.]

Okay, grandpa. [It's more fun to tease him like he's still older.]

[Reluctantly, he releases Akechi's shoulders.] ...I'll follow you anywhere. [Oops, that was homosexual.]

[That comment only earns a very displeased expression from him. Excuse you, he's mature not a senior citizen!

Akechi takes a deep breath as Akira frees him. He takes a moment for himself before he actually moves from their position, clumsily standing up and stepping away from the privacy of their booth. His legs feel more wobbly than what he'd like but he'll manage it. It feels a little similar to being under a status effect, which he supposes makes only sense.]

Alright, then. Come. [He commands, starting to lead their way towards the exit of the tavern. How's that for homosexual?]

[Akira leans into it-- he'd purposely ignored the suggestion in "let's go out", but this time he Simply Must.]

Wow, at least take me to dinner, first. [He's stumbling a bit, himself, but managing well enough to clamber upright and plod along after Akechi with a mischievous grin quirking one corner of his mouth.]

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