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

[mooninthewater]

[ Mizuki happily yoinks the knife that Clarke discards, taking this as an opportunity to get them both going, anyway, and it's much easier to keep a rhythm is Mizuki's the one keeping pace. He takes a seat, taking his glove off and throwing Clarke a little smile as he does, before setting his splayed hand on the table.

Tapping it on the table a few times with the knife to start a rhythm, he then begins to... "sing". If you call reciting lyrics with a slight lilt in your voice "singing". And as he does, he taps the knife between his fingers in practiced, rhythmic motions. ]

Oh~ I have all my fingers,
The knife goes chop-chop-chop,
If I miss the spaces in-between,
My fingers will come off,
And if I hit my fingers,
The blood will soon come out,
But all the same I play this game,
'Cause that's what it's all about~.

[ And, the appropriate speed up: ]

Oh~ Chopchopchopchopchopchop,
I'm picking up the speed,
And if I hit my fingers,
Then my hand will start to bleed~!

[quizpersona]

[ With this unpredictable turn of events he's gotten not one, but now two, foolhardy participants in his game. Incredible.

Obviously all he has to do is watch. What he observes is that Mizuki does it with a enthusiastic abandon that tells Nikolai that he'll be just fine. It would take intentional disturbing of his concentration to get him to stab into his fingers, Gogol thinks. So he turns his eye back on his first volunteer. The one who is doing it for the chance to win a prize... and that's likely to be the more nervous of the two.

He carries along the tune of the little jingle with a whistle like a canary singing its heart out in a mine-shaft on the eve of disaster. Abruptly, he stops and leans in with anticipation. ]

Careful now.

[ He utters quietly. So quiet, in fact, that it's uncharacteristic. Someone would have to suddenly divert some of their attention away from the knives and the song and the danger to make an exerted effort to realize what he's said. ]

[skaikru]

( it's some kind of foolhearted bravery to sit down and play a game you don't even know the rules of. but clarke had seen a knife, a challenge, and figured it couldn't be too hard. out of the corner of her eye, she's watching mizuki start tap-tapping the knife between his fingers as he sings, and once she's got a measure for the pattern, drops her focus to her own hand and joins in the rhythmic table stabbing.

it isn't... hard. at first, at least. the predictable, clap-game nature of the song sets the pace, all she has to do is focus on the gaps between her fingers and try not to miss. she's squinting a bit, suddenly very aware of how much triple sec and rum was sitting in her relatively empty stomach. but both hands are relatively steady, she's falling into the groove.

but... then a few things happen all at once.

mizuki's pace picks up and clarke almost fumbles to keep time. then on the edge of her peripheral vision she notes the shadowed encroach of nikolai leaning over the table — and like a proper prey animal, the instinct to look up takes precedent over a game. she's distracted just enough for a downswing of her knife to clip the webbed skin between thumb and forefinger. and if I hit my fingers, mizuki continues to croon as clarke hisses, and immediately snatches her hand to her face.

it's just a tiny cut, nothing life threatening or all that painful. it stings, and there's a distinct bubble of black blood welling in the scratch, but in the end it is mostly pride that's wounded. that special sort of disappointment one saves for themselves curls in clarke's chest cavity, and she's almost immediately slotting her wound between her lips. )

[mooninthewater]

[ ...Ah.

Mizuki actually stops altogether here, cutting the "hand" short and glancing up at Clarke and holding up the knife in the air. Does this make him a loser, too? Oh well, it's not like he was playing for a reward. He shuffles over after abandoning the knife on the table. ]

Clarke?? [ Hopefully it wasn't too bad. He used to be a chef's apprentice for a while, and boy HOWDY will he tell you that cutting your finger tips off is a whole world of fuck. He fusses over her for now, anyway. ]

Ehehe... did it get you bad? Should I go fetch some bandages?

[skaikru]

No.

( even as the copper tang of blood spreads across her tongue, she's firmly shaking her head. it wasn't bad, she doesn't need a bandaid. she hadn't expected the uptick in the pace, but now that's been sorted — and it's become apparent nikolai wasn't content just being a bystander — clarke's taking a deep breath.

shying away from any fussing mizuki's trying to drown her in. giving the third party an unkind smile across the table. and sliding her hand back on the table, even as blood rebubbles from her wound and runs into lingering strands of saliva across her skin. )

Let's go again.

[quizpersona]

Yowch.

( That worked far too well. Which means he's content to sit back, steeple his fingers, and watch as an actually respectful spectator for the second round. Although he does answer that bitter expression of Clarke's with a small smile of his own and a chuckle underneath his breath. If she knew the dangers of the game can she really get mad at him? )

Since you plan on continuing then allow me to give a clarification for the rules way too far into the start of the game! You get three tries. Of course you can keep at it after that but your designation of 'winner' will be forfeit.

[mooninthewater]

…

[ Mizuki shuffles back over to the knife and glances up at Clarke one last time, waiting for a nod or something from her as he taps the table with a rhythm once again. Most distractions weren't a problem for him at this point. It's all muscle memory- like learning all the buttons to your favorite song on a rhythm game and being able to do it blindfolded. Not that Mizuki would be able to do this blindfolded or anything, which means that not all distractions were fine and dandy for this.

Distractions like Clarke.

Once he gets the go ahead, he starts speaking the lyrics this time. He still sounds chipper as ever, but his expression now carries worry. There's flicks of his gaze upward whenever he gets to tap his knife to the open side of his pinky-- the safest time to be doing anything, he thinks. ]

[skaikru]

( first and foremost, yes nikolai. yes she can and will still get mad. because at the end of the day, he looks mid-twenties and still invited teenagers to sit down and cut themselves for his amusement. and teenagers rarely back down from objectively stupid decisions, and just allow their misplaced determination to settle the second they're challenged on it.

in fact, the harlequin judge of this game spells out further rules, and it's a challenge for clarke to bite back something snide along the lines of i only need two. she grits her teeth, swallows down a growl around the notion of anything along the lines of forfeit.

meanwhile, mizuki tries to fuss but ultimately relents. slinks back to his own knife, picks it up and starts chanting the rhyme scheme again. this time clarke's purposefully numb to the prickle of any outside eyes fixed on her, and silently promises that any encroaching figure would have to get within stabbing distance to warrant her attention.

...wait, this is just supposed to be a game.

anyway, clarke falls into the pattern this time. it really is just a matter of keeping the beat and not doubting the destination her gaze paints for the knifepoint; not slipping, not skewing, not skewering her own fingers. it could become as repetitive as breathing, yet she's holding the air in her lungs. a penny sized puddle of blood has leaked onto the table from that one minor wound alongside her thumb, but it's of little consequence. and when mizuki speeds up this time, she's ready for it. )