TiK Tok

[ohnehalfte]

Who: Lup (hellawrath), Taako (ohshitsweetflips), Newt (ohnehalfte), and possibly you!
What: Drunken party of drunkenness and shenanigans
When: Nov 17th, mid-day until everyone passes tf out
Where: Islet #2 aka Trash Island, somewhere out in front of cottage 1 and along the beach
Warnings: Drunk people, swearing, ill-advised people hitting each other with sticks, questionable food, drunken cuddles and crying, etc, etc tbc when there's more




Welcome to Islet 2! There are many reasons for you to be here right now. Maybe you live here. Maybe you're visiting someone who lives here. Maybe you've been invited to this sick party by one of the above idiots. Maybe you were just passing by and got dragged into the festivities. Who cares, really? You're here now!

Out in front of Cottage 1 there's the beautiful banner that you see above hanging on the outside, lovingly crafted by one of the twins. The twins have also lovingly crafted some vodka using magic and potatoes. Potato magic. And hey! There's also stuff that the twins cooked! Like potato tornadoes, fried shark genitals and Fantasy Kentucky Fried Pterax! And other food! And there's a fire! And activities! And drinking!

Mainly drinking. In fact, there is a large cooking pot that, at the moment, is full of the most moonshine-iest vodka you have ever had. There are empty halves of coconut shells to serve as cups, as well as some clay cups that may or may not have come from an interesting source. So help yourself! Who knows how long it'll last, considering the amount of guests. Heck! It might even be repurposed later, after all the vodka is gone! So drink up.

Anyway, feel free to join in on the festivities! There will be several threads for activities where people can mingle, or you can start your own. Have a party, chill out, and/or imbibe ill-advised substances to try and forget that you died. Wheeeee!

Comments

[postictal]

Tim does snort at that, wry and vaguely amused in the only way he knows how.

"I don't talk with them. Not outside the, uh...necessities." He turns his cigarette between his fingertips with a slightly guilty glance at the tin in his pocket. Ever since his discussion with the cowboy guy, robot arm and all, he can't quite shake the feeling that the things they keep asking for might be coming out of someone else's pocket.

[ohnehalfte]

"I thought...maybe if I could get more information out of them, I could figure this place out. But at the end of the day, who the hell knows if they're even telling the truth." Honestly? They don't. And that's the long and short of it. Newt takes a drag off the cigarette, then, and this one goes much easier.

[postictal]

"Guess you've gotta point. Not like we've got any alternatives here." He glances away from the tin-shaped bulge in his pocket, and keeps burning the cigarette away at its end, breathing in the smoke and the bracing pull of nicotine.

"Whatever they've got in store for us next, I just hope this time they leave the kids out of it."

[ohnehalfte]

"Yeah. That'd be nice." There's a tiredness that's starting to creep in at the edges. Happy-drunk!Newt is starting to be replaced by melancholy!Newt. "I mean. Definitely not holding my breath. But it'd be nice."

[postictal]

“Not like the kids aren’t competent,” he adds wryly. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one being looked after rather than the other way around, at this point.” Not really so much anymore, considering. The medication was the cessation of that guarantee, that Chara be responsible for him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still there.

[ohnehalfte]

"I mean, yeah. If they chose to go, I'm not gonna stop 'em, y'know? Because it's their choice, and I've definitely met some kids that are, like, waaaaaay better than fighting than I am." He is more than willing to ceed that, tbh. He's been saved by superkids more times than he can count.

[postictal]

No arguments there. Tim's managed to get himself shanked in the soul by a kid with an enchanted knife, and was kind enough to thank them afterwards. But that's not really "drunk at a party" material in terms of storytelling. Hell, it's not even "campfire tales you tell during the wind-down period" material. It's just plain not something you bring up in casual conversation.

So he does the simple thing. He changes the subject.

"You're gonna wake up with a hell of a hangover, buddy."

[ohnehalfte]

That makes Newt cackle, tilting his head so he can eye Tim with a Very Sloshed grin. "Oh, dude. Toooooootally."

And then he just

waggles his eyebrows up and down

like the fucking nerd he is.

[postictal]

Oh, jesus. Tim tries to hold a straight face at that, and mostly fails, his expression crumbling into an amused snort. He's so far gone. He's so fucking far gone that he's probably only going to remember something like fifty percent of this conversation.

"Too bad there's nothing 'round here for a little drunk science, huh?"

[ohnehalfte]

HE LAUGHED!!! NEWT SAW IT!!!! His grin widens, beaming, absolutely pleased that he accomplished this--and he barks out a laugh in response. "Tell me about it!" He throws an arm in the air for emphasis, specifically the one without the hand holding the cigarette. "This is prime drunk science time! And I'm not in the Shatterdome so I'm not banned from doing it like last time!"

[postictal]

He has no idea what a Shatterdome is, but Newt's easy elation is damn near infectious. He can't help but being charmed at the sheer deviation of the whole thing from the norm. It's so bitterly human, this need to scrape something halfway enjoyable out of all the shit, and the bottom line is that it's working.

"You got banned from doing drunk science?" Somehow? He can believe it.

[ohnehalfte]

"Yeaaaaaaaah I may've exploded a couple'a bunsen burners last time." He doesn't look ashamed about this at all--in fact, it's almost smug. "And gotten kaiju guts all over Hermann's chalkboards. And his side of the lab. Wooooo he was NOT happy about that!" This, especially, is said with an extreme amount of glee. "He screeched at me for HOURS until Pentecost came down and made me clean it up. While still drunk, I might add."

[postictal]

“God, you’re a menace.” Tim sounds pretty amused about that, to be fair. The guy almost reminds him of -

He derails the thought before it boards the station. Doesn’t matter who he reminds him of. Doesn’t matter for a second, because people who are long gone in more than aysthsn one can’t be reclaimed. That’s all there is to it.

“Well, who knows. Maybe you can do a little drunk coconut shooting.”

[ohnehalfte]

"I'm Dennis the fuckin' Menace, man, that's for sure." He hums a bit, in response. "Maybe I could! I've got a coconut gun 'n everything. Though I'd kinda be afraid of shooting someone at this point."

[postictal]

“So take potshots at birds. Try to knock shit off the Storyteller’s temple or something.”

This is very probably a bad idea, given that the god seems rather protective of that space, but Newt is drunk and Tim is enabling some poor choices, so why not?