and the bass keeps runnin runnin

[250mhzwabl]

Who: Anyone who heard the announcement, caught a flier in the plaza, of heard by word of mouth. Everyone's welcome!
What: A rave! Well, "rave." Luceti makes everything a little different.
When: June 21st, nightfall to early morning
Where: the beach near Adele's house
Summary: It's the first day of summer! This calls for bonfires, naturally, but why not spice it up with loud music, flashing lights, drinks, dancing, and a conspicuous lack of curfew?
Rating: PG to PG-13, please move anything steamier to appointments or Adele will take the hose to you



Getting all the firewood, food, and drink out to the beach had been, honestly, the hardest part of preparation. Whatever else one might say about running things on magic, it certainly did cut down on the trouble of constructing edifices and machines to run the entertainment side of a party. As it stands, the setup is labour-intensive but otherwise minimal, and there's not much to do by sunset. Escape the house before Max and Zevran, the culture-displaced madmen, can put any more eyeliner on him. Arrive at the beach. Light the bonfires. Make sure the bonfire-cooking-compliant food is set out. Put up a table loaded with bottles, cups, ice, and permanent markers. Thank the resident doctor and quartermaster once more. Plug in the stereo system.

The speakers and light show have been with him since he left his house, in the form of the resident god of mischief, and they confer over sheets of paper with track names and times written on them for a little while just before the start. That's the last of it, and by the time the sky above the mountains is beginning to darken into twilight, the first thumping, trilling strains of dance music begin to echo out across the sand.

It's the shortest night of the year. Best make every second last.

[OOC: Feel free to post your character for mingling, since this entire event is very free-form anyway. For everyone's enjoyment there is a drinks table, food, several bonfires, the ocean (lifeguards not on duty, splash drunkenly at your own risk), and of course a dancing area with lights and music. Music will probably be primarily EDM with a heavy bass line, but occasionally wander into the territories of electro-swing and the like to give even less modern partygoers a chance to show off. The light show as well will stray out of the typical at times, with the expected abstract wheeling and flashing lights giving way to more complicated illusions. Don't be surprised to find yourself and your fellows occasionally dancing in a forest glen or a Rivendell look-alike for a few minutes at a time. Loki is working the tech booth, after all.

The party will go as long as people stay and are enjoying themselves, so have fun and tag around!]

Comments

Isaac

[relictusdeus]

More than the thumping bass he can feel deep in the pit of his stomach has lured him tonight to this foreign spectacle. First, of course, is attending to a matter of business. And in the interests of carrying it out efficiently and with as little annoyance to himself as possible, he has drawn upon the power of the Mirage Ring to veil and morph his appearance into something he imagines is more pleasing to the eye. In the skin of Trevor Belmont, the legendary vampire hunter, he seeks out Eugene. Though anyone is welcome to say hello to what appears to be a New Feather.



Having extended birthday wishes, "Trevor" skulks prowls keeps about the outskirts of the gathering, curiously watching as others writhe to music as if in a sort of mindless trance. But after a while (and a few drinks) he eventually persuades himself to draw nearer with a sly-faced smile. How unusual it is, still, to find himself among a large throng of people and not a horde of demonspawn, undead, beasts of myth, and abominations only the most twisted of imaginations could have conjured. The latter is a more comfortable thought, but alcohol has a way of loosening stress-wound nerves and emboldening an already roguishly daring man.

Depending on how his disguise is received, he may or may not shed the illusion at some point during the night. But what is certain is that he too will dance. For while others have come to remember and celebrate, he has come to forget.

[swordprincess]

Karla will see Isaac's disguise a little differently from everyone else. For regardless of what form Isaac takes, she would only see her brother.

She steps up, rather lightly on her left foot, to greet him. "Brother! You came!"

She hasn't known her brother as a party figure or a dancer. But then again, she hasn't seen him in so long, it's like she hardly knows him at all anymore.

[relictusdeus]

[Karla and her greeting catch him mid-swallow and he cocks an eyebrow as he lowers his glass.]

...Brother?

[Despite his mild bemusement, he takes care to mimic Trevor's voice as best he can.]

[swordprincess]

[She looks at him and frowns. Why does he always act surprised when she calls him Brother?]

Yes...Brother. Have you forgotten me that easily?

[relictusdeus]

[The first answer that leaps to mind is the question of how much alcohol she must have consumed. But for all he knew, perhaps the Belmont had indeed a sister in this girl. There is only one way to find out.]

Need you be so dreadfully impersonal? Please, call me by name.

[Julia had had the habit of addressing him thusly, too. He attempts to wash away the thought of her with another swallow.]

[swordprincess]

[Funny, she's always called him Brother, and he never seemed to mind before. Well, anything for him...]

Ah...I'm sorry, Brother...I mean...Karel...

[It'll be a hard habit to break.]

[relictusdeus]

[How disappointing; he had been hoping he would be privy to the Belmont's personal life.]

I am afraid you are mistaken, for I am Trevor of House Belmont.

[swordprincess]

[Karla tilts her head, confused. Each time she saw him, he gave her a different name. She could not fathom the reason for this.]

You...have a lot of names, Brother. Rumors say that you collect swords from your fallen opponents. Do you collect their names as well? [Or worst case scenario...] Or are you so far gone that you've lost your very identity?

[The last idea is enough to bring tears to her eyes.]

[relictusdeus]

[Belmonts were no sword-collectors, he muses. In the dark of night he catches the sharp, wet gleam to her eyes, but the deep sense of hollowness in his chest is unshaken.]

You are no more my sister than I am a woman. [He answers with a hint of an unapologetic smirk quirking his lips, nose wrinkling slightly at the idea.] I would suggest that you move along, for your own sake.

[z_jay]

Eugene was enjoying some of the finer beverages that this rave had to offer, wondering just how Jack had managed to pull this all together and make it work. But when there was a will there was evidently a way and tonight was turning out to be more than he expected it to be. Aside from... loud music and bright lights.

Even with his still improving leg, he set to dancing, coming up against a man he'd never seen before, or even recognized. Newcomers were welcome, and he moved in closer to him, grinning softly. Pepper had told him the new ones did tend to show up all at once, after all...

[relictusdeus]

Catching his approach from the corner of his eye, he offers an easy, sidelong smile, something suggestive at one moment and perfectly innocuous and amicable the next.

“Good evening, friend,” he offers in his best attempt at a voice unlike his own.

To those whom may have watched Isaac before, there may be something familiar in the practiced, coordinated grace with which he moves. Otherwise, this is simply a man in old fashioned dress unabashedly enjoying himself, hips rolling and swaying sinuously to the throbbing baseline.

[z_jay]

"Hey, welcome to the party," he had to speak a bit louder over the sound of music, but he was always eager to help out newcomers. Generally, they appreciated the helpful pointing in the right direction and information. "You new round these parts?"

With a vague hand gesture, he urged the newcomer to move away from the dancing, shoving his way through to the outer, less populated parts of the beach. "Name's Eugene, by the way... Enjoying the party so far?"

[relictusdeus]

With ears still full and buzzing as they distance themselves from the thrumming beat, he ducks his head and leans in slightly to catch the words. The sussuration of waves is soothing in contrast.

“Ah, the man of the hour~” He gently inclines his head, chuckling warmly as if Eugene were an old friend he had not seen in years. “Well met. I am Trevor of House Belmont… and I believe I have something for you.”

There’s an expectant pause, reactions carefully gauged, before he continues. “Yes, I suppose I am enjoying myself for I have not been left wanting of a drink. ‘tis rather impressive, this… carousal of yours, I admit, although I fear I might soon bleed from the ears.”

[z_jay]

How he was already known by this Trevor fellow was beyond him, but he suspected one of the party patrons may have said something or other about him. Clearing his throat, he happily, but curiously wondered what it was this Trevor fellow was going to give him.

"It's really not necessary for newcomers-- or oldcomers, I guess, to give a gift. But if it's a customary thing where you're from that's fine!"

The bleeding from the ears bit made him laugh and he glanced out over the congregation, impressed it had swelled to this many. Maybe the rave was just what this place needed? "Sure is loud, if I might suggest, hanging out on the periphery if you plan on hearing tomorrow!"

[relictusdeus]

Rarely is a word from his lips or a gesture little more than what it appears to be, and now is no exception as his hands move to his belt to produce a small cloth pouch drawn shut at the top by a string. It’s light, the metal pieces within clinking like coins as he tosses it towards Eugene.

A childhood of being pecked at and browbeaten into feeling sick with guilt has made a grudging, humiliating thing of apologizing and humbling himself, and in the wake of his mother’s death it had always been easier to convince himself that he wasn’t sorry when he was. Or that he wasn’t guilty when he was, and that blame rest solely with someone else. Anger, too, would blind him. But he is beginning to understand now, at his lowest, that there are times where the benefits of swallowing one’s stubbornness and pride might outweigh the trouble. What pride remains within him.

What's done is done. He would not know how to explain to Jack or to Eugene that the only search parties he has ever known were those out for his head, making their choice to refrain from attacking him before and during his bloody struggle with Zevran an anomaly. Whether forced or of their own free will, they had set out after him not too long after dawn when they could have curled up in the warmth of their beds.

He would not know how to tell Eugene that he will forever remember the wine and the welcome when he had done nothing to deserve either.

Nor would he know how to tell Zevran's lovers that he is attempting to make peace - to familiarize himself with this unfamiliar idea - out of the desperate need to ensure nothing would stand between him and his only friend. What little of value he had left in the world.

Perhaps, he thinks, they would not care to hear of it at all. And to believe as much saves him the trouble of wondering how he would ever find the words for it if he could compel himself to do so. Still, he will offer his acknowledgement tonight and in the way he is most comfortable. Afterwards he'd be free to dust his hands of it and drink his way into state of blissful numbness. Or to attempt as much.

Eyes on Eugene's, he waits to see if he will open it.

[z_jay]

The inner monologue going on with the other man went completely over Eugene's head, left instead with a curiosity about what this small pouch held. Grinning, unsure but also daring, he opened it without hesitation, making sure to have a certain dramatic flair accompany it. The genuine surprise when he saw a whale pendant, fashioned after his tattoo had his brows coming together in confusion.

Then he glanced at Trevor and gave a chuff of laughter, rubbing the back of his head.

"It's-- wow, thank you! This means a lot to me, actually. I didn't... thanks."

Maybe Trevor was just the messenger? In that case, he'd let it be,but he was entirely curious now as to who this person was that would get him something so... personalized. Maybe it was Jack, but he wasn't always this subtle. This came out of the blue, entirely.

"I'm not sure how you knew, but thank you-- or whoever made you give this to me. I do appreciate it! Hey, have you tried some of Loki's booze? Don't go too crazy with it, but it's really nice if you want to try some!"

[relictusdeus]

There's surprise and bemusement and uncertainty playing across Eugene’s features and he knows not why he had expected something else, something more. A flicker of anger or disgust. Perhaps it’s out of habit. But he’s satisfied, more at having carried out what he set to do than anything else, and that the conversation is redirected spares him the need to fabricate some explanation behind the gift.

“Perhaps I might...” He lies easily and manages a hollow smile just as easily, gazing far past Eugene’s shoulder into empty space. “But for now, I believe I will take the air by the ocean, if I may.”

[250mhzwabl]

[The stranger prowling the edges of the party doesn't escape Jack's notice, nor does his clothing (of the sort he mentally dubs 'medieval chic' anymore). Combined, they give the impression of someone to whom electricity itself is probably only a vaguely-understood concept, let alone electronic dance music.

He gives the man some space and time to get used to the party before he breaks away from a dance and swings up, unopened beer in one hand and held out in offering. If the man declines, he'll be happy to drink it himself.]

Let me guess. Not the sort of party you're used to.

[relictusdeus]

[It has taken some work to wear down his high tolerance for alcohol, but Isaac is nothing if not a persistent creature with all that he pursues. Both mind and reflexes are dullened with drink and it takes him a beat too long, as he whirls around, to understand from which direction the voice came. But then his eyes fall on Jack and something twists sharply his chest, words momentarily forgotten.

He blinks as the can is extended before waving it off, offering a noise close to a stifled moan in refusal.]

How kind of you to offer... but I have had my fill of poison.

[He laughs wryly, gently, realizing too late that he has forgotten to mimic another voice. But for better or for worse, he is beyond giving a damn.]

[250mhzwabl]

[Briefly, Jack falters. It's just the interval it takes for his own drink-slowed mind to hurriedly try to piece together the mismatched edges of expectation and fact, the stranger he has never seen suddenly poured into familiar gestures and a voice he doesn't think he could mistake for anyone else in the village.

Sure, he'd received the message. He hadn't had a single idea as to how to respond, but he'd read it, and Zevran had told them that it was the closest they were likely to get to an apology and still no guarantee of safety. But that was words on a page. The last time he'd been in Isaac's presence, the man had been slamming Zevran's head into the ground. That and the time before are what his body remembers, heart skipping into a hard gallop, mouth going ash-dry.

For the first time all night, even with the dance floor just a handful of metres away, he feels alone, and an icy chill skitters down his spine.]

I, ah. I got your letter. [He speaks almost too soft to carry over the music, eyes fixed warily on not-Isaac.]

[relictusdeus]

My... [Eyes narrowed, he peters off as he's left puzzling over a brief lapse in his memory.] Oh, yes; that. [There's the slightest quirk of a smile at the corners of his lips.] I was hoping you might write a word or two and not leaving me hanging in the most dreadful suspense. How very cruel of you.

[A giggle comes and goes, near swallowed up by the music, and then he sucks in a slow breath after his smile has faded and fallen, wetting his lips contemplatively. In silence, weariness softens the sharper angles of his borrowed face, worn blue eyes rimmed by shadows.]

...might I ask you something? [The question escapes him at the end of a faint sigh, his gaze holding Jack's steadily.]

[250mhzwabl]

I honestly had no idea what to say.

[He's completely frank about it, mostly because it's pointless to try to be evasive to Isaac. The man is going to do what he wants to do, and besides, the last few times Jack has seen him he's ended up running like a frightened baby animal. If he ever had an image to uphold, it's well and truly demolished by now. He doesn't want to know what Isaac thinks of him, if in saying another life might have left him a similar man he'd meant it as an endearment or an expression of his own relief.

He wants to believe Zevran's side of all of this, blame the worst of the friction on Luceti and spirits and anything else convenient, but most of the deeply forgiving people in his own world are dead now and with good reason. Still, he reasons (moving further out of the sound and out of swinging or kicking distance, still unwilling to look away for a moment), he supposes they can talk. For the moment.]

Anything you want.

[relictusdeus]

[Anything you want.]

No, no... [Shaking his head so softly, he huffs a sad and breathless little laugh, his eyes rolling skyward as if he were to find something of comfort up in the darkened, star-lit heavens.]

Do not tell me that.

[The bass thumps on in the silence, steady and powerful like the beat of one’s heart, shaking the ground and shaking his bones but shaking nothing deeper. And then it comes at last.] Why… did you not do it?

[Anger is bled and drained; there is only disappointment towards something he expects Jack to follow. He breaks eye contact after a moment to scrub at his face with a hand, sniffing dryly.]

[250mhzwabl]

[From nealy anyone else, Jack would take the hints at emotion at face value and probe deeper, trying to unravel the meaning behind the nonverbal little sighs and glances. But he doesn't know what the value of things done with a borrowed face even are, so he only watches, conflicted and quiet as he nervously rolls the slowly-warming can between his hands.]

Why didn't I do what?

[It's a guileless question. He really has no idea what he would have been expected not to do, at any point during their acquaintance.]

[relictusdeus]

[He breathes slowly through parted lips, sweat glittering on his skin.]

Your hand… [One rises demonstratively.] …I had placed it over my breast and pressed it close, and you… you had stood where you are. [Watching almost desperately for the faintest glimmer of recognition in his expression, he cracks a glass-thin smile.]

You remember, don’t you? [A beat before his voice drops to a conspiratorial murmur.] You had felt it then, the thump of the heart. There it was. [Leather creaks as his gloved fingers hook into his own chest in a fierce though ineffectual effort to carve deep into it.] Would that you had sank your nails into me and tore it from me – tossed it aside or crushed it under your foot, cum tu doreşti - ... ah.

[It leaves him in a sigh of something close to relief and his eyes fall shut, the thought left to hang in the air a moment. Savoured, almost.] Mn, 'twould have saved another man the trouble. [A wretched laugh bubbles up, a pale imitation of his gleefully roguish self.] And me... my breath... at the very least.