We're wide awake now, our eyes are wide open. We're running this world, we keeping it turning

[opheliac]

Who: EVERYONE ON THIS DANG SHIP!
What: IT'S A PARTTTYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When: last week of april before more shit happens.
Where: rischie
Warnings: PG-13??? alcohol is definitely involved, teens being teens, drunk people or doing bad decisions??? who is to say!!!





Fast Travel Thread Links

★ ENTRANCE.
★ THE DANCE FLOOR.
★ AT THE BAR.
★ GAME AREA.
★ DJ TABLE // PRIVATE WITH JINX
★ LOSER CORNER.
★ THE FOOD TABLE.
★ KARAOKE.
★ OUTSIDE RISCHIE.
★ WILDCARD.

Comments

THE DANCE FLOOR.

[opheliac]

( ahh yes, this is where all the magic happens! ready to get down and boogey? well this is the spot! so grab a partner, put on your dance shoes, and shake that dang tail feather! )

(OOC: 80S PLAYLIST IS HERE!!!!!!! )

[wimdy]

[ he might be a bard first and foremost but music and dance are so closely entwined as arts, of course venti is versed well in both. his would be light and airy with dainty movements of his arms, a twirl of his green cloak trailing with a soft wind that seems to curl around him that might not just be from the movements of the dance. he's spent quite a lot of time in the bars of this ship, enough to familiarize himself with quite a lot of the songs on the playlist, so he would likely even sing sweetly, melodically along to cyndi lauper or prince or blondie while dancing--somewhat anachronistically when the dances he knows are more on the folk side. it's clear song is more his love than dance, but he's terribly fond of and loses himself in both.

he's flexible enough to improv and simply move with the music, likely with a martini in hand. and he's cheerful/friendly/annoying enough to request a dance of anyone, whether you're already on the floor or might be hanging out farther back or even if you could very well be at the loser's corner: if you're unlucky enough, venti is there, beaming at you and perhaps patting excitably at your arm-- ]

Listen, they're playing my favorite song! [ ... he will have a lot of favorite songs. maybe all of them are his favorite songs, when all of these songs are new to him. yes, even rick astley. ] Dance with me, would you? I'll buy you a drink!

[ the drinks don't even require pay, but still. this is the face of someone dying for a dance. ]

[luminessense]

Venti... You know if you're going to drag me to something like this, then the least you could do is spare me the embarrassment.

[ It's not as if Lumine can't dance, but she's very... overwhelmed by everything. Venti has a bit more experience with all this under his belt than she does. And between the lights and the music and all this noise, it's a lot. And it isn't helping that Venti is just so casual about it. ]

How long is this supposed to last?

[wimdy]

[ no, he absolutely refuses!! it's all embarrassment all the time when she's stuck with him, sorry not sorry. ]

By 'this', do you mean the song or the party? If it's the song, then~ [ let's say it's whitney houston. a classic, and a crime not to dance to, it's right there in the song title! ] It's not long, promise! And if it's the party, it's until 'Who Cares'-o'clock. It was written right there on the poster you know!

[ regardless of his bluster and cheer, the way he takes her hands towards the dance floor is coaxing, reeeeally not wanting her to pull away and run. though, he'd obnoxiously whine at her if she does. ]

[skaikru]

( this is still earlier in the evening — before clarke discovers the joys of mai tai's and the thrill of the knife game — so the face of someone dying for a dance is met with the expression of someone dying to rewind time and never show up here in the first place. but there are many moments in her life she'd like to avoid, and yet most of them were successfully twisted into some sort of tactical gain, to the point where clarke willingly shoved aside her personal feelings for the benefit of her people. and the second venti crowds in her personal bubble and paws at her arm, it feels like a chance.

an opportunity.

the last time she'd see him had just been a split second of eye contact; half a heartbeat in mizuki's under-used cabin, before an ethereal swirl of feathers dragged him out of a tangible form and into the heavens. he'd missed the aftermath; clarke and mizuki knelt on the floor, putting diving terminology to faces and the fallible holes in his story. he'd missed clarke saying he was right about war, and mizuki crumbling beneath a suffocating sense of failure. he'd left her to pick up the pieces of a conversation she'd not even wanted to deviate towards.

the last time she'd seen him had left an aftertaste of animosity and resentment along the back of clarke's tongue, and no, she doesn't want to dance. not at all, not with venti. but those residual questions eating at her thoughts overtake simple human desires, and if he offers a hand again, she'll take it. allow venti to drag the two of them to the dance floor, but the second he moves to meld into the music and dance away from here, clarke takes her turn to grab his hand.

hard. unyielding. and guiding one of his arms to her waist and draping one of her own around his shoulders. drawing close, the stiffest slow dance posture as hungry like a wolf blares over the speakers around them.

this is fine, venti. give in. if he'd seen humans bring gods to heel before, he can accept that it's going to happen in the middle of the rischie tonight too.

they're the same height, it's no big task to crowd further into his personal space. to slot their cheeks alongside each other until clarke can speak directly into his ear and ask those follow up questions she'd been robbed of a few days ago. )

So what's it like?

( being a god. )

[wimdy]

[ ah, what a prize this is...

no, but dancing with lumine and jinx and mizuki and whoever else might be horrifically unfortunate to score a dance with him, they may be all fine treasures, moments of warmth and fancy and pleasantry and fun after the chaos of jenny's visit. he is exactly this avoidant and irresponsible and flighty, he would prefer to confront almost all problems with exactly these vices. surely he can drink or sleep or fly all his problems away, or at least try.

clarke isn't a problem however. perhaps she's a challenge, if he were anything close to confrontational--there are times he might be, he's terribly inconsistent even if on the whole he would support and admire heroes of humanity. and he does admire her; he could guess that she might distrust or hold some grudge against him now but what a surprise it is that she could accept a dance. how lucky he is to score a dance with miss clarke, like winning the lottery. and maybe just maybe he would deserve to get mugged and drained of his winnings straight afterwards.

for now though he seems nothing short of tipsily cheerful as duran duran plays and he gives a playful small pat to her shoulder, a winsome tip of his head towards her, his braids brushing her cheek. ]

What's it like? This song, do you mean?

Quite charismatic, if I could say~ I'd love to learn these lyrics and play it for you, give it my own flair on a lyre. I'm sure I could impress!

[ if she's on the hunt could she pin him down? like trying to nail wind. ]

(Lucy)

[scarredhorns]

[Oh, it's the guy who asked about pirate ships. Lucy isn't in the loser's corner, but she is trying to wallflower (emphasis on "trying"). She doesn't swat away his hand, but she isn't eager either. She shifts, uncomfortable under his absolutely gleeful expression.]

I... don't know how to dance.

[wimdy]

[ aw, a newbie... all right, he can definitely go easy on her. ]

Not to worry, we all start somewhere. There was once a time I couldn't tell a waltz apart from a rumba! [ a wink, he keeps his hand offered outstretched, but tones down his smile just a bit though it remains terribly hopeful. ]

Let's start with a simple box step, could we? I'll teach you, and then you can impress all your dance partners with your grace and elegance in the future!

[selenokinesis]

[Rather contrary to Venti, perhaps, Ebalon is the sort of man who knows only ballroom dances — noblemen of his stature are not taught to simply go with the flow and he's rather awkward about anything like that. More for his pride getting in the way than anything, but still. His being on the dance floor is happenstance due to his wandering, so of course his awful luck would get him immediately accosted for this unfamiliar swaying.]

I'm afraid I have no experience with such... loose footwork.

[He smiles down at Venti, friendly, but in a measured way. He doesn't point out that the drinks are, in fact, free, like everything else aboard the ship has been.]

[wimdy]

[ the drinks are indeed free but he might even have a bonus free glass of water as well if he approaches one of the bartenders, delivered upside the head rather than to his hand, maybe this spectacle would be worth the price of a horrible dance with him. ]

Ehe, me neither! I've never heard music like this before I came to this ship, you know. [ his eyes flicker over ebalon's look and style of dress, he could speculate ebalon surely doesn't come from the era or world the serena eterna is from. ] But there's fun in improv! [ in another world, venti might just be a theater kid. song comes easily to him, dance does as well. ]

Or we could dance how you'd prefer. I'm quite familiar with a lot! [ when entertainment is his profession, he does indeed know his ballroom dance. ]

[opheliac]

( eventually, jinx makes her way to the dance floor after she manages to get the turn table to sorta play on its own for a little while. after the previous song ends, this one begins shortly after. and it's this kind of song jinx finds herself really enjoying -- her hips rocking side to side and swirling in a bit of an...erotic way.

but who cares, she thinks! this song is practically made to be danced this way. with her eyes shut, she moves along on her own -- feeling the rhythm, the words, and the beat. )

[wimdy]

[ he's only learned about sade through the radio and playlists on this ship but he is such a fan it hurts.

at the turn of a verse venti would be there, taking her hand light in a clasp in his own in one casual movement. oh this might be a bad idea when he's terribly drunk but the way she dances really does catch the eye, he couldn't help but be fascinated. ]

Jinx~

Could we dance? [ what a sleek song this is, what a mood, what a buzz there is in his head. ]

[opheliac]

( while she saw him dancing earlier, jinx didn't expect him to come over while this kind of song bouncing throughout the walls. he isn't the only whose buzz, of course. jinx is on her third drink of the night and definitely going to wander off to the bar for more soon.

there's a sly smirk to her with their hands in a hold. and in a tease, she pulls the hand away from him while swaying still. )

Aaah? Gee, that depends. — Can you handle me?

( with that, she turns her back to him -- letting her arms also doing a swaying motion as her body moves along to the rhythm. )

[saltandpepperbeard]

[Ed's here to party, even if he doesn't actually know what kind of party this is going to be when he arrives. At least it won't be like that swore-ay soiree with the rules about knives and forks that he won't remember.

He's in his leather pants and gloves, but he's left the jacket at home because it didn't seem like a jacket-necessary party and it's easier to dance around and be a buffoon if you're just in a tee shirt.

Ed is...not a good dancer. He's an enthusiastic dancer, however, a bit wiggly, and after getting a feel for what's the in-thing out her, he has some interesting choices of moves to this music that is nothing like anything he's ever heard before. He's not running into people too badly (maybe a bump here and there, but he's not going to pick a fight over it if no one else is). Obviously he's enjoying himself and being a little goofy in that way that says he believes himself to be cool enough that being goofy adds to his charm and doesn't detract from it. But if you're too young, he probably just seems like a very embarrassing dad dressed like an aging rockstar.

It's so LOUD on the dance floor, and though Ed's not dancing with anyone per se, he's not above trying to chat.]

Where's the band?! The music's coming from everywhere! [This is some fuckery.]

[touchofcashmere]

[Stede has never been great at parties where he knows the rules. It's even worse when there seem to be none. At first when he'd peeked in he felt overdressed and had gone to raid the ships stores. Now he felt underdressed in a ship shirt, pale blue, short sleeved and a bit too small in his hasty plundering, tending to ride up in the middle, knee length trousers with his own stockings and something oddly called crocs.

He feels like a crock himself.

It's so loud and so dark and everything and everyone is so strange seeming to fit in while he's definitely an odd duck. He is about to leave when he spots Ed in his undershirt, dancing-- and the man could even dance like the best in the room. How could anyone compete?

Perhaps he'll just watch for now and try to pick up some pointers, though there's no way he's moving his hips like that at any point. Instead he gets himself a strangely colored drink from the bar and stands back to watch the show]

[saltandpepperbeard]

[Ed's having a blast, even if he doesn't know any of the songs, but as the music shifts and transitions to a different tempo, he finds himself looking around the darkened room. His eyes land on Stede, who practically glows from his pale ...whatever that could be called. The 'outfit' defies time to clearly stand out as "geeky," "terrible" and "tourist" even though Ed's never seen anything like it in his life (that's a lie. It sort of looks like a low-level pirate or sailor, really). It's ill-suited to Stede's fashion sense or body, which makes it as much a surprise to Ed as anything that he would still absolutely suck eggs for him.

Ed winds to a stop and twists his bushy hair off his sweaty neck as he weaves through people to join Stede on the sidelines. Should have done more than put it half up, but ah whatever.

He's a little breathless from dancing when he leans against the wall beside his fellow captain, lets his hair back down, and watches the dancing colored lights flicker across Stede's face.]

Hey.

[baubled]

[ Effie's on the dance floor mostly to just take in the environment and enjoy the party-like atmosphere. She'd made a trip to the Bric a Brac shop and is currently wearing a brightly colored sundress in one floral pattern, topped with a button up shirt that's been tied up at her chest. A second shirt has been converted to a headscarf. The patterns are a little dizzying together. ]

There's no band! [ she shouts it back over the music. ] It's a DJ! Much wider range of music!

[saltandpepperbeard]

[Her ensemble is dizzying but bold. It's colorful, has personality, makes a statement, and Ed has found that lately he's a fan of such things. Maybe not so much on himself all the time, but he enjoys the life it seems to bring to those who wear it well.

He might be a tad drunk actually, if he's doing so much thinking on a sundress and hair-wrap. He leans in and raises his voice a bit.]

What's a DEE-JAY?

[touchofcashmere]

[it is near the end of the night and Stede finds himself in the middle of the dance floor. it has been a night of some ups and downs-- but he's had so much liquor tonight it's all up hill from here.

It doesn't help that with borrowed purple shirt and knee length pants, otherwise bare legged and barefoot, he's freer than he's ever felt before and for right now he is just living it up, completely caught in the music and the moment. Is he good at dancing? No. But he makes up for it with rampant thrashing enthusiasm.

At some point he says]

Gosh! I could really stab someone right now!

[and laughs.]

[saltandpepperbeard]

[Ed's been...around. He's had a few more drinks, but his tolerance is unfortunately pretty high so getting as wasted as Stede would take more effort than he's going to put forth.

At some point he rounded up his lunatic friend's shoes and stockings and tucked them away under a table for safekeeping, but mostly he's been trying to dance and drink and somehow take his mind off that idiot and his idiotic crush. But of course then Stede does what Stede does best--something crazy--and Ed grumbles and, for one of the rare times in his life, plays damage control. He wrinkles his nose and gestures at Stede and tries to make light of it.]

He doesn't mean it. He's drunk--just...hammered.

[To Stede, with a scowl and the universal sign for 'cut it out'/'this is not the time or place'/...or possibly something with head cutting off, Ed makes a slashy motion over his neck] There's gonna be no stabbing.

I can't believe I'm the one saying this.

[touchofcashmere]

Hello, Ed. [he's definitely had too much and far more than he should. He's flushed and shining with sweat and feels like if he stops moving he's going to fall over]

Not even for a treat? [he shakes his hair out of his eyes and grins] I don't mean just popping a knife in someone's gut but, you know, combat, steel against steel, get that good rush going and then [he gently thwaps the heel of his hand against Ed's belly where he can feel the still forming scar]

What do you think?

[chocobosnap]

[ Is Prompto a good dancer? Well in some way, he moves rather fluidly like he has excellent spacial awareness, because he does and he's athletic enough to pull it off. He doesn't really know the music but that's not a problem.

Fortunately, he doesn't know how to dance in a fancy way, he's more the regular teenager, and look he can get lost in the crowd like this maybe.

Would anyone notice him? They might, although he doesn't seem to stand out nearly as much on the ship as he would in Insomnia. ]

Old-fashioned dancing with Sarge. Maybe.

[worthallthis]

Something in the back of Sarge's mind tells him that what the people out there are doing is not dancing. The problem is, he doesn't know what dancing should be, either.

So he kind of lurks around the edges of the dance floor, frowning at everyone, trying to figure out what exactly his brain is trying to tell him-- with little success. Come tell him off for staring? Or try to drag him into the fun?

[skaikru]

Old fashion dancing, you say? Promise?

Not that much earlier in the evening, Clarke had drawn Venti into a tight, stiff dancing pose in order to whisper accusations and ideas directly into his ear. That's her definition of partying and fun, apparently — thinly veiled threats, battle plans and an absolute disregard for the beat of whatever song was blaring over the speakers. But since that moment, she's found her way over to the bar, where La Pluma oh so kindly plied her with Mai Tai's — and also at the losing end of knife game. So Clarke's all napkin-bound wounded fingers and free spinning thoughts around the time she ends up alongside Sarge on the edge of the dance floor.

There's no stickers to offer him this time. Just camaraderie, and perhaps the first easy smile Clarke's managed in a year. A drunk teenager and an amnesiac corpse — name a better duo.

"Do you know this song?"

[worthallthis]

You've got to get some old-fashioned music going first, Clarke. None of this is pinging any kind of familiarity yet.

He eyes her sidelong for a beat, somehow well aware that she's pretty drunk and unsure what that will compel her to do, but shakes his head after a beat. "I don't know any of these songs."