station72 | PARTY PARTY PARTY

Entry tags:

PARTY PARTY PARTY

CHARACTERS: Everyone!
WHERE: The streets of Concordia
WHEN: Dusk til just before dawn on DAY 040
SUMMARY: IT'S A PARADE
WARNINGS: Add them to your top levels as necessary etc etc

As from the calendar:

Confetti! It's a parade! The annual Arista Parade, to be precise. Nominally a part of Aristana, the celebration of the ribbons of life, it's a holiday who's origins are nearly forgotten. Nowadays it's a big, raucous celebration pretty dedicated much entirely to drinking and partying. Almost all those in attendance will be wearing ribbons tied around their hair, their wrists, off of their belts and the edges of their sleeves. Pull one off, and you will be rewarded with a kiss - on the cheek, usually. The parade itself showcases a number of performers, costumes, and moving art pieces. It's route covers a number of the main streets of town (which will be closed, sorry traffic), and it lasts from dusk till nearly dawn on DAY :040. Have fun, if it's your kind of scene.

From the mods:

No notable NPCs are present at the parade - at least not in any official capacity. However if anyone wants to interact with a Concordian native, feel free to make up/interact with any randos you feel like!

Feel free to use this log for all of your parade day activities!

*moving art piece not included, original characters do not steal

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[ She wants to just keep leaning into it - because she'll never not crave closeness, affection. The way even if he wasn't sure, he gave her both so thoughtlessly and the way she responds so happily to it.

But he pulls back that little bit and she blinks like she's coming out of a daze, the tip of a question that has nothing to do with Ilde, with what they should do. Presses her lips together, wetting them where her mouth feels dry and her head feels dizzy. Suddenly there is too many people, here, for something she isn't sure she wants anyone to witness, something all theirs and she doesn't know what that means at all.

Just that the world crashes in like one of her illusions separating. ]

Come on - it's, just down the street a little.

[ Her voice is, soft, dry almost. Like she's swallowing something nervous down. The colour in her cheeks. She's shakey, somehow, a heat that's curled so low and spreading in her that she doesn't think it's the drink somehow. ]

[ He gives a slow nod, concern for the change in her tone quick to sober him out of his own haze. The grip around her hand tightens again, and he reaches for the sketchbook propped up against a tall, potted plant, calling over to Della to thank her for inviting them in. He's already exchanged emails and an offer to meet up at her friend's gallery another day. Hadn't been sure if he could go. Later he'll wonder if he even should.

Only so many times you can dodge the truth before you're telling outright lies.

He's not thinking of that just yet. His subdued focus remains on Angel, staying close to her in case she needs to lean against him. Picks their path out of the apartment and back toward the stairs. ]

Which way?

[ His skin hums, and it's a little bit more difficult to make eye contact than before. ]

This way -

[ As soon as they're out of the apartment, it's a tug to let herself scatter to winds as the loudness of the music washes over the both of them. She likes it, she likes this lost feeling, doesn't need to be trapped or held together. It feels right, to be moving without thinking, her turn to lead him, where he is always the one helping her.

The way she doesn't feel like she's quite touching the ground. Where her skirt is at her ankles and the ribbons drape from her wrist and hair and neck. Looking back at him over her shoulder, grinning at him before she leads him on into the crowds. ]

[ This is her world more than his. Not the beat of the music or the press of bodies, what belongs to her is that willingness and want to lose herself in it. The only comparison he's got is the first day they trained at the Station, running a track mile and for the first time his body responded without fail.

That was freedom, this is something else, closer to free falling - especially when she turns and grins at him. His heart jumps, but it's exhilaration that flows between them, even when he nearly trips over someone's foot, nearly upsetting their shared balance for a second before catching himself again with a short hop.

Angel's ribbon is still clutched in one hand. ]

[ She's quick with it, unrestrained because she has no reason, there is technology buzzing against her senses, and him warm in her hand with the memory of how he was much closer in her memory, and the brush where she feels people pull at her from time to time, at her ribbons and she laughs and ducks away from them.

Spoken for, apparently.

It's a few more minutes, and they're almost there if she remembers where it was and not closed. Granted, it's not as young in the night as it was, the crowd is starting to thin at least of families with children, not quite so full as it was earlier. Makes it a little easier to dart through the crowd.

It's going well, up until she looks back to him to say something, like they're almost there, really, up until she bumps right into someone. Bound to happen, she's shockingly oblivious for someone so aware in other regards. Knocking him and his drink.

Oh, well, shit. He doesn't look pleased. ]

( Hey Steve, can you see an alley or something we can run too? )

[ He doesn't get a chance to warn her of the obstacle, the sudden stop has him catching Angel's shoulders, stopping himself from slamming into her too. He frowns at the man and his spilled drink, then opens his mouth, caught between offering an apology and answering the question in his head.

But the guy mutters a despicable word toward Angel and all at once both options go out the window. ]

Hey - [ He's straightening to his full height, moving around Angel and his tone hard. Maybe it's the deep voice that throws the guy off, because he's looking too high up for a second. ] - you owe her an apology.

[ The link heats like iron warming up.

And here we go. ]

[ Shit.

She's ready to laugh and wave it off, offer something sweet and apologetic the way she knows how to do best. She knows how to supplicate and get what she wants that way, or at least be ignored as a harmless nuisance and waved away.

But she really wasn't expecting Steve to step up when the man spits a word at her, and she's heard worse, and most definitely been called worse and she's about to stumble out her apologies with a big cheery smile.

Then Steve is stepping around her, stepping up more exactly and oh -- shit, shit, shit. ]

Hey, it's okay... it's my fault... [ she's squeezing his hand, ready to tug him away as quickly as she can. ]

[ The man's gaze shifts from Angel to Steve, shooting him an incredulous look that reads really? before straightening the same way, posturing with the threat of menace - whatever might've occurred after that is swiftly interrupted by an interloper, a friend of the first guy it seems, when he dumps half a pint over Steve's head. Cool off, gents, he says with a sly grin, and simultaneously shoulder checks his buddy into uproarious laughter as they start to stumble back into the crowd.

Steve's eyes immediately start to sting from the alcohol. He rubs at them, which succeeds in making it worse. ]

[ Oh, they should be lucky that she has absolutely no idea who they are, or she was going to infect every piece of machinery in their lives.

But they get to escape, as she turns into him. Immediately taking a fistful of her long skirt in her hand to bring it up to his face. Gently pushing his hands away where undoubtedly it's making it worse. Beginning to dab at his face with the thin material, around his eyes, trying to stop it from burning. After a moment, someone takes pity on them and passes her a cup of water and some napkins. Something to help him clean himself up.

Maybe it's good, keeps her busy then trying to catch up to the fact of something that sticks in her throat. He... stood up for her. Not in some abject sense, and it knots up in her chest tightly. ] Hold still, it's just water now, I promise. [ Her skirt dropped away, she steps in close with a soaked napkin to squeeze the access extra over his face to wash away the beer before she begins to dab it away. Her fingers are soft and quick, wiping the alcohol away off his face, ignoring where the water splashes on her. Cleaning it away so he eyes wouldn't sting so. ]

[ His pride takes a small hit. Maybe he doesn't go looking for fights, and he'd swear he's got nothing to prove when he does end up in them, but there's something about not being taken seriously right in front of Angel that prickles almost as much as that they walked off laughing without even apologizing for what the guy called her. He likes to think that he doesn't put that much stock in other people's opinions of him. Harder to keep saying that while he's standing in front of her now.

He lets her move his hands aside, staying completely still as she first brushes near his eyes: ]

You don't gotta - [ mess up your skirt, he starts to protest once he realizes what she's using, but by then there's a napkin and water too and he relents. ]

Thanks. [ Only the word sounds more like sorry, his mouth twisting into a faint smile that's at odds with the crease at his brow when he's able to open his eyes and meet her gaze. ]

[ As she finds his face again under all that mess, she feels something breathless and sudden in her chest. That creepy feeling of there being nothing but them amidst a sea of others. Close in as she dabs away the sticky alcohol, like she's looking for him underneath it.

When she does though, there's a frown on his face and she can feel where his pride stings. How he isn't looking at her - and if he doesn't how can he see how thankful she is? He'd stood up for her - wouldn't let something bad happen to her. Even if it was all her fault and deserved it, maybe. Should have been paying attention if she wasn't too busy finding the sky in his eyes when they were just so blue where they were all warm and half-lidded at her before.

The words start, that it's the least she could do, that it's nothing, nothing she wouldn't do for him a thousand times.

They form, shape and die in the same breath on her lips. None of it's good enough, all of it placating, and not half as much as what she means. ]

Hey, Steve?

[ And if he does, she's right, right there, all close in and something quick in her throat that leaves her pulse - beating in the same thud of the music, sharp staccato. Bird in it's cage beating to get out, out, out. ]

Edited 2016-10-19 16:59 (UTC)

[ It beats in his own chest when their eyes lock and she speaks, vibrating along their thread, just like on the balcony he's sucked in again. In a second he could be falling, but he holds onto that edge. It's so hard for him to let go completely, even now, breath to breath - ]

I wanted you to know, before, you - [ his voice is low, keeps eye contact with an expression of utmost seriousness ] - you looked real happy tonight.

[ You looked real beautiful. She didn't deserve anyone messing that up. ]

[ Quite probably, they're both terrible at this. Too new, too easy to mess this up, do something that isn't as perfect as it could be if they had any idea what they were really doing.

But she doesn't, and he doesn't, and it's painfully earnest. She wouldn't have it any other way, she wouldn't have him be something he wasn't when he was already more than anyone she knew. No wonder Lilith could walk away from Roland, no matter what, no wonder - ]

( That's good, I am really happy. )

[ And nothing was going to ruin it, nothing was going to take it away from her right now.

She leans forward, and that's not perfect either, the way she brushes her lips to the corner of his mouth. Soft, light, all barely there just in case - she's pushing too far. ]

[ There's another jolt, the same hyper-awareness from before taking over his brain to find her lips pressed gently against the side of his mouth. His eyes close (don't they always do that in films?), on the same instinct his head tilts, angling so that her lips are closer to the center of his own. Closer, but still chaste, a breath away from disappearing even as his heart swells in his chest, near to bursting with bright, hot light. He wouldn't mind it.

It's not so long before he pulls back, slow, eyelids lifting in a daze that forms into a smile, his neck flushed - then one hand finds hers and he leans in to find her lips again, offering back what she had given him, soft and less tentative. ]

[ She can't be sure, really, how he'll react to it until he does. To that end, her eyes are up, open, watching his reaction and taking a small breath of surprise - pleased, when he adjusts to kiss her properly. He might just push her away - and that's okay too, has to be, there are some things she'll never press on.

But he doesn't, she curls her fingers around his and meets him as he leans back to her. The thrill high and quick in her throat. Washed in a light coming off of him that proximity lets move through her, twice as bright as she's ever been. ( and oh how, if she's not addicted to that wash, letting him fill her veins up, all tingly and sharp and theirs ). This is - right, how it should be, close, warm. Now her eyes close, now she leans into him. Not half so worried she's crossed a line and that this is something he doesn't mind. Maybe she's thought of it, maybe she hasn't, but none of it matters to the fact that it is happening.

Her free hand comes up tentatively as he kisses her - she kisses him. Slipping up to his hair, touching at it idly, sticky with the alcohol tipped on him that she realises - she can taste on his mouth. Splaying her fingers to feel it tickle, and she smiles into it. ]

[ This is a high he's never felt before - the bright thrill is one that reverberates between them. He's shared her joy before in smaller ways. He's made her laugh, watched her light up at some story he's told about home, and it's always warmed him - but not like this.

He's drawn in to this all encompassing light they share.

This is letting go.

His stomach jumps as her hand slips through his hair, and his own free hand moves to settle at her waist. The ribbon slips from his grip - ]

( Ilde. )

[ The thought draws him out of his haze, back to reality, and he pulls back to search Angel's face, his own expression drawn tight. ]

- we still need to get those ribbons before they close.

[ His mouth twists and he shakes his head, gaze dropping to the ground. He's pulled back into himself, suddenly awash with shame and embarrassment. ] I wouldn't - I, uh, don't mean to step between you two.

[ They're... close, right? He's known, on some peripheral level.

(he shields himself from the pervasive anger within his brood, he's never thought to look here, for this place where their desires just begin to overlap) ]

[ She's half a breadth of pulling herself into him. Stepping as close as she can too - kiss him as much as she can. A giddy noise that she presses into his mouth as his hand comes up to her waist. Likes being held, likes being held especially like this. The bright catch of ribbons against her bare back. The shiver of content him that makes her so eager, so happy. This could go on and on as she catches the light off of him against her lips.

Until he pulls away, and she's flushed still, but it's different. The colour in her cheek, her neck, the rise and fall of her chest that comes from eagerness, rather than the exertion. Pressing her lips together where they're pink and full from kissing him. The hum still there in her.

But it goes in a frown, as he speaks, and she doesn't like that look on his face. Doesn't ever want to be a reason for him to look like that at all. Trying to catch what it means when she's her own muddle of thought and feeling. ]

We will, and we're not like that, so you aren't.

[ Each of his pauses, one after another. ]

We care about each other but... we understand each other. [ a frown, which, there's something between her and Idle, so far as Idle understood her. She'll never want to be snatched up, she'll never want to be owned, no one will have her and her alone. She'll give this, she'll give her friendship, but never, never will she be caged.

Thought, that's her. ] Unless it bothers you? [ it's careful, a broach against him with gentleness. ] It's alright, if it does. [ That'll - just be that then, is the implication. She hadn't thought of that in her eagerness. But if it did, she'd let go, separate from him, and not cross the line if that's what he wanted. ]

[ His brow furrows as she speaks, gaze still focused downward. It's a long moment before he answers, not because he's confused, but rather that he'd prefer not to stumble so much over his words this time. ]

It doesn't bother me, not really. [ Not, for the most part, so long as there won't be any hurt feelings for Ilde when she wakes up. He doesn't want to explain part of his hesitance, how he comes from a place where things work differently. It's a tired excuse. He's been in Concordia long enough to have become aware that the social courtesies and rules he's known all his life are considered old-fashioned by most here, and that includes the rest of the folks in the Nest. Doesn't mean he's ready to jump feet first into the new world, but it lessens the shock of seeing certain types of relationships carried out so openly. Makes it so he can drink a little more than he might usually, and accept a kiss from two different woman on this alien holiday: one a kind stranger, and one a friend.

Another pause, and he lifts his eyes, offering her a lopsided smile with the same warmth from before, if somewhat sheepish now. ] I guess... it's that I haven't thought about this sorta thing in a while. [ Being close to someone. A light snort, and his gaze travels to some empty spot over her shoulder. ] And now I guess I'm thinking about it too much.

[ And talking too much, most likely. ]

Edited (too many toos) 2016-10-23 10:59 (UTC)

[ The look on her face is nothing but fond, relieved. Her fingers still curled around his, squeezing gently. ]

Thinking too much and not looking at me again.

[ It's teasing, light, nothing too serious at all as she brushes against him. Pressing her lips together and maybe they should talk, sort things out before she did, but whatever his hesitance or her own, she figures it's better to start at the beginning. ]

And... well, did you like kissing me?

[ That's... probably the most simple place to begin. Figure out the rest of it after that, if they needed to. ]

[ Another huff, and now he's letting his gaze shift to meet hers again, both eyebrows raising. ]

Of course I did. [ He'd still be kissing her right now, but - maybe it's not so much an excuse as an honest explanation. His chin dips down a bit. ] The thing is - back home, kissing someone like that's... kinda like making a promise. [ For him, anyway. And that's the difference between the way Della'd kissed him and the way he'd kissed Angel. What's between them here goes deeper, shaped by what they can share between them. ] But I'm thinking that's not something you're looking for.

[ His tone is soft, his thoughts only kind and lack the coloring of rejection, though touched with disappointment. More than anything right now he would like to kiss her again, might like to be more, but this is the honesty they ought to share. ]

[ She looks down at their joined hands and - she supposes she owes him honesty, most of all, more than anyone she wants to be... truthful with him. Hard as it is, not like she knows very much of herself at all. ]

You're right. I don't and... I don't think I ever will be okay with ... promising. Because of what happened - before. [ That vague description she's given him of what her life was like before this, what had dictated it. But more importantly, not because of Steve, never him. She doesn't think she could ever have a bad word about him, ever not want to be near him in some way.

It hits her harder than she expected all of a sudden and the words stick. Be honest, Angel, just this once, she can, for him, she can. Isn't that more precious to them both? She'd give him so much, she realises. More than she might give anyone else and it comes quick. ] Because honestly, I'm just figuring it out too and being locked up most of your life doesn't really give you a lot of time to work this stuff out? [ joking with it, oh it's tragic, but that's a given, but she's not here for some awful full stop on her life.

She's here because it'd turned into a comma, one she's currently figuring out the rest of the sentence of ( maybe she'd find the rest of exact verbs and adjectives in the shape of his mouth where he presses it to her and maybe that's all this is ) ] So maybe that will change but I don't want to give you that idea when there's a good chance I won't?

[ Swallows, giving him whatever she could then. ] On... on Pandora, people don't make promises too often. They tend to just take whatever good is in their life however it comes to them. Because they don't know when it's going to go, just that it is. [ Bites at her lip, teeth scraping and nervous. ] And I think you're a good thing in my life, I think you're better than that and I really liked kissing you too. Which no, I can't make a promise but - [ she swallows, nervous, skittish, but smiling, bright and happy. ] - I can give you that if that is okay with you?

Edited (what is sentence structure) 2016-10-23 16:35 (UTC)

[ There's noise all around them, bodies shifting along the street like shadows, he's been paying them no mind. He follows her gaze to their hands, grimacing a bit when she talks about Pandora and what she survived there. When he looks up at her again he's quiet, putting his thoughts together. An answer he can be sure of is already there, buried beneath old truths and older promises, those rules he's always held himself to. The light of her smile isn't to tempt or lead astray. He can't fault her for needing freedom, and - that means sharing her, that's the only term he can think of. If there's any prickle of jealousy in him, he won't be able to hold it behind walls forever. Maybe from Angel, but not from Ilde.

But thinking of them together doesn't strike anything possessive in him. Whatever they are or aren't or never will be, he wants to be sure that he can make her happy and never be the reason that she's not.

(he doesn't think of the reason being that Ilde is another side of him, or that perhaps it would be different if another man were involved) ]

Yeah - [ He gives her another lopsided smile, expression softening. ] - I think this is okay.

[ Right now, he is sure. ]

Okay. [ It's a shaky exhale, and she finds both his hands then, turning them about, stepping closer again, and it's to put them on her waist, settling them there against her back where her clothes dip and hang open the way she likes. Once she's sure he's not going anywhere, and there are nerves in it, still, not out of inexperience so much this time. He matters, she realises and she has no idea what to do with that revelation, he matters so much and - ] Okay.

[ A self-affirming word that means nothing. More to do with making sure it's alright to lead in this where - she's more comfortable doing so, admittedly. Needs to be in control of her own body when it comes to being close. No accident or sweet lead in like this is a cheesy EchoNet video when she leans in this time to him, her hands come up to settle against his shoulders. ] We should go get that ribbon, huh?

[ Got - a little bit sidetracked, apparently.. ]

[ Repetitive helps. Though his neck turns red with another spike of warmth, he doesn't mind letting her take the lead - when she redirects his hands he gives in easily, letting them settle where she places them.

Oh -]

Right - ! [ Ribbons. His grin widens a bit. ] Then I should... maybe wash this off.

[ The beer that's got his hair sticking every which way. But he's not in a rush. ]

[ She grins, and this time it is deliberately sweet, like sugar wouldn't melt in her mouth and he best learn to be careful when she does that. It's never for any good reason. ]

Yeah, you should.

[ And she brings up the cup of water from earlier where he's all wrapped around her...

...and dumps it over his head, directly. Grinning wide and sharp as she does it. ]

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