June Aftermath: Magic Lantern Strange

[lifeaftr_mods]

JUNE AFTERMATH: MAGIC LANTERN STRANGE

Who: Everyone!
What: A celebration!
When: Evening of June 21st, and well into morning
Where: Ensō, E3 and E4
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Slide the Light Off You
As promised, the evening of the 21st finds the Jormun hosting a party on Ensō's largest beachfront. Near immediately, it should be clear that they've spared absolutely no expense when it comes to showing their story-walker brethren a good time.

Of course, they may also be...showing off a little. The stalls and comfortable seating supplied around multiple firepits appears to be a mishmash of Jormun built contraptions and items requested from the Storyteller- many may be delighted to see the variety of beach cushions and blankets, items the Jormun will be happy to let their story-walker friends take home at the end of the festivities. A veritable smorgasbord of food and drink is also readily available, from the kid-friendly options of brrshavak (a spicy drink with a taste akin to liquified chili pepper) and molkavarr (a rich chocolaty broth) to the alcoholic rakvrhak (a rich wine that tastes oddly plumlike). Do be warned, however, that the last is incredibly potent.

Large slabs of driftwood have been laid out to form impromptu tables, bristling with the Jormun's culinary expertise: fried squid, seaweed wraps, spicy pickled kelp, kebabs of roasted eel, hard-boiled snapling eggs, and so on. The vegetables and meats of the sea have been laid out for all to enjoy, so tuck in!

Throughout the evening the air will be filled with the sound of music, with multiple Jormun eager to show off their skill in instrumentation. Conch-shell horns, carved driftwood flutes, urchin-needle harps, and countless more contraptions engineered by a deep sea-dwelling people fill the air with the most peculiar but nonetheless not unpleasant sound. Most of the bands will be set up in the shallow waters, however, as their instruments are not made to be used in open air - try playing them above the surface of the water at your own risk.

Of course, there's plenty more to entertain even the most difficult of people.

You're Living the Strobe Light
Those interested in proving their strength and skill will be encouraged to enter one of the many tournaments across the shoreline. The tournaments vary, featuring such challenges as play fights with the schlacknorkcvic to prove who is the greatest warrior, timed events to see who can stay on a bucking tigershark for the longest, and even a tourney of brovonkosshk, a board game somewhat similar to chess. Don't see anything you're interested in? Make your own. If you can think it, the Jormun will happily accommodate it - impromptu challenges are the highlight of such evenings, after all, though the Jormun won't be taking any responsibility for the first poor soul that decides to usher in a drinking contest.

A small variety of walker games are also available. Jormun children are more than eager to play such games as hide-and-seek or red light, green light, while Connor Murphy will be bringing his Cards Against Humanity deck, for those ready to completely screw with the idea of a fourth wall. There's even a game of Spin the Bottle... except the bottle is being spun overhead like a mace. Being hit by said bottle requires you to do a stupidly ridiculous task, so perhaps it's best to avoid that particular adaptation...

And of course, there's the lightshow.

As mentioned previously, the main show of the evening is the show of brssticca: bursts of magical light beneath the water that will put any fireworks show to shame. The lights are safe to wade and swim through, do keep in mind that the phosphorescent algae tends to cling to the skin. And should you reach into those spiraling, fluorescent nebulae of patterns beneath the surface, some of the configurations of light may abruptly shatter like broken glass.

Additionally, skilled Jormun will be happy to assist those who care to dress up for the event with intricate applications of shellivthiss - a style of waterproof body paint that is not only bright, but luminescent. Something the Jormun may forget to mention, however, is how similar shellivthiss is to henna; should you decide to get all dolled up, except to shine bright light a diamond for weeks to come.

Lastly, those who wanted to bring their own adventures are welcome to as well! Supplying some dope roast? Bringing those sweet, sweet greens? Have some alcohol to supply? All is welcomed by the Jormun - and undoubtedly, your fellow adventurers as well.

You May Find Some Peace
Feeling a tad adrift? Make sure to check the OOC Event Post, which has details regarding the event timeline!

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( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[catpiper]

Because you make me happy. I want you to be happy too.

[The little reasons all culminate into that singular purpose. It won't matter if his medicine keeps him alive for years, if he's consumed by loneliness. It's a terrible thought and she doesn't want to entertain it. She knows what it's like to sit alone in her room, waiting to see if people wanted to use her today. What it's like to be alone when no one wanted her anymore, what it was like to travel the city, knowing there she was completely and utterly alone.

How it felt to have someone that wanted to be with her-to just hold her hand. No strings attached, no ulterior motive.

If he doesn't move away, she's going to slowly move her hand to the top of his head and, you know, pet him. Lup didn't mind. Cats don't mind. It'll make Tim happy, maybe. That's Step 1.]

You make my heart feel warm when you say 'hey, kiddo' and hold my hand. That's why.

[postictal]

[It raises his eyebrows some, but he lets it lie. If she doesn't mind the fact that his hair is...as much a mess as the rest of him. Smelling of sea salt and cigarettes, matted in the way that it gets when he forgets to shower and shave most days.]

[I want you to be happy, as though that's even remotely fucking tenable. As though he's not wrung empty, wrung dry, a hollow goddamn half-shell of a human being walking around and acting like he can be vaguely functional like he's got any right to claim that he knows the people that he does these people who are kind and polite and give him the time of day when he so clearly painfully utterly obviously doesn't deserve it ]

[He breathes out.]

[Hates it hates himself for what he says the way he does the way he can't - ]

What if there are some things you can't fix?

[catpiper]

[Guilt is an emotion that comes to her in occasional waves, when she thinks about-

Stuff she doesn't want to deal with right now, while she's patting down his messy hair, trying to untangle and pick at bits of it with her fingers. Cats treat themselves better than this, Tim.

There are some things you can't fix and that sense of false hope isn't something she wants to give another person. She wants to help, thinks she can, in this one, single instance where loneliness is the source. She can't cure his disease or help injuries in any feasible way.

Her voice drops, in case prying ears are around, because they don't need to know this, but-]

I thought 'it won't go away' and 'it won't stop hurting'-for a very long time. That's how it was.

[A problem she pushed away and ignored because there was no point in facing it in an empty world.]

Then Seto saved me and said he wanted to be with me and-

[She sort of pats his hand down again, giving up on whatever stupid tangles are there. It builds character.]

I felt 'fixed'. When you hear words like that, it feels very good.

[postictal]

[It's easy, maybe, if you're a kid. You can tell yourself that if someone wants you to be okay, you can be, and that's...okay. Or if you will it as such, if you trust that pure power of will alone will be able to make you okay, then maybe it can be.]

It doesn't work like that all the time.

[Not for me.]

[There really is no breaking this to her gently, is there?]

Not for...everyone.

[catpiper]

[It's harder than she thought to convince him, which isn't surprising considering his life and how things may have been. Saying and showing are two different things and only one really holds any weight at the end of the day.

There are many situations she'll give up on and push to the side for other people to handle, but not this. Absolutely not.]

I'll learn a lot of words and one of them will feel like a hug. I know-

[Any words she can think of to start ebbing away the pain of being alone. I want to be with you doesn't work, so she goes down her list of comforting phrases.]

Greetings, pumpkin. [Pause] You're dope and cool. Do you want to hold hands?

[postictal]

[This probably isn’t the right thing to do. Breaking down the inconsistencies in child logic, teaching her cynicism when she already know the world can be cold and grim and uncaring. What’s this meant to accomplish? It certainly isn’t making her feel better.]

[Figures that he’d be terrible with kids - objectively awful, and of course he’s surrounded by them.]

Who taught you those ones?

[Change...change the subject. Think of something else instead.]

[catpiper]

[Did it work? Is there some kind of mystical elf power that got through to him, with those few words alone? She's taking his curiosity as confirmation this might be helping. The temporary distraction is working for now and she's more than happy to share that info.]

Taako, Lup, Chara-lots of people talk to me here. So I'll find nice words that'll make you happy.

[postictal]

[I’m never happy.]

[She’s too young to know what “anhedonia” means. Maybe even too young to grasp the concept. How do you explain to someone how it feels, for everything to just be...gray? It’s not sadness, really, or even grief. It’s nothing at all. How does one make that clear to a child?]

[You don’t.]

They told you their name.

[catpiper]

They told me a long time ago.

[Back when it was a secret she had to keep close to her heart and the only reminder of it was the faded gold star on the temple wall. It's weird to say it, after months of talking about Kidwun, but it's what they want. Ask and thee shall receive. Tim probably knew from day one.]

Do you have a 'true name' too?

[postictal]

[They like her, and they’ve always liked her - but he still blinks, brow creasing. They must have trusted her an awful lot. But then, just because he knew out of circumstance, out of convenience, that doesn’t mean he knows anything about how Chara acts when they’re not dealing with a liability.]

[He reaches up, unconsciously, fingering the lump beneath his shirt. Doesn’t look at it. Doesn’t slip it out into view.]

[Right now? It’s just enough to know it’s there.]

Me? Nah. I’m too boring for that.

[catpiper]

[All that means is that he's been using his true name all along. It has nothing to do with being exciting or boring. He's not hiding behind another one for the sake of being someone else, even temporarily.]

You don't have to be someone else. You can use a name as a nickname. I heard about that.

[And when it occurs to her that he's might not know what that is, she takes a step back to get the full Tim view and lands on the illustrious-]

Mit.

[postictal]

Mit, huh?

[Creative.]

That's a little easy to guess, isn't it? [Kidwun may have been an obvious pseudonym, but it didn't imply anything about what their name might actually be, unless someone was familiar with Chara on a personal level. Or a threat to their cover story.]

[Friends.]

[catpiper]

[Dunno, seems like a solid nickname to her. Who would get Tim from Mit? A genius, that's who. But she relents, looking thoughtful as she tries to figure out another one.]

The Firework.

[That's good shit.]

Taako's friend has that kind of name-it's Magnus Magnus Burnsides The Hammer.

[Yes, both Magnus' are said. That's vital, Tim Tim Sideburns The Firework.]

[postictal]

You know Magnus, hm?

[It's not much of a shock, in retrospect. He's pals with the elves, and Ren lives with the elves.]

[He starts picking at the strings of his instrument again. He doesn't know the words aside from the absurdly catchy chorus, but the chords aren't hard. Most pop tunes are easy to pick up - usually 4/4, bouncing between a standard I–V–vi–IV progression.]

[It's another one he remembers hearing on the road. Jay's tastes might have slanted toward the fringes, but Tim never existed in the sphere of pop cultural consciousness for long enough to have developed a sense of shame about what music he plays.]

"Firework." I guess that's kinda catchy.

[catpiper]

He lives with us. He sleeps in the tent and says nice things to everyone and makes ducks.

[Definitely a beloved member of camp who tends to stay pretty busy most days. It'd be admirable if she were the type to admire hard work.

What makes her happy, right now, is watching Tim strum across the instrument, seemingly fine with his nickname being Firework instead of Mit. Is it catchy? She can't catch it. It's a word, not a baseball, but she ignores that, opting to hum to the tune instead.

Which she'll keep doing, for as long as he keeps playing.]