[open] and they could call it the great

[inhairently]

Who: Steve and you!
What: November catchall feat. the infamous weed party and also breaking things, possibly other things as they strike me
When: Early November
Where: Tauva, Stellar
Warnings: drugs (weed)

A. i could make my return back to planet earth

[ One morning Steve receives a gift: an indiscriminate amount of marijuana. He doesn’t immediately trust it because it’s too good to be true, right? No way the hell boat is just going to give him pot. But… it looks good, and it smells good, and the insatiable need to chill the fuck out wins over his suspicions in the end, so he grabs some snacks and heads to Tauva.

It’s been a while since he smoked. The last time he had, his dad caught him and it hadn’t gone very well, and it’s not exactly like he can afford much on a VHS-Rental-Store-Guy salary, anyway. So forgive him if he’s really excited about it, is what I’m getting at.

He settles in the very far back of the lounge, seated in one of the cushy armchairs and hunched over a table as he tries to wrangle his tragically out-of-practice joint-rolling prowess. If approached, he will welcome company and maybe even offers of help.

Later on, it might be the skunky smell of weed that draws you towards the back of Tauva. There you’ll find Steve, way more relaxed than he has been in a long time. He’s still quite open to company, might even offer you the joint if you want. Or, alternately, he might just be asleep in a position that can’t possibly be comfortable or puzzling over a copy of Jurassic Park.

Seeing as it is an indiscriminate amount of marijuana, he is very willing to share with friends and strangers alike. Come to the weed party, bring your snackies, have a good time. ]

B. all I've got to do is pray that time's been put in reverse

[ So a few days after the mysterious pot arrives, Steve receives another gift. This one is familiar, and comforting in the worst kind of way. He hasn’t driven around Hawkins with a nail bat in his trunk for the fun of it. He likes the sense of safety it brings and having it here now should….probably not make him feel great? But it does. He’s glad to have it.

So! He does what any stressed out 19-year-old boy might do: he heads to the souvenir shop and loads up on as many model ships as he can carry. He may or may not have even made two trips. Then, he brings those ships to the fanciest shmanciest place he can find: Stellar. From there he creates an artful arrangement of ships and glassware on a few of the tables and… you can probably see where this is going.

So! One might encounter him with armloads of model ships or even just walking the halls with a nail bat over his shoulder. He might even be willing to discuss his plans.

One might head to Stellar in hopes of a nice meal, only to find Steve already there, setting the scene for what’s to come.

Or! One might just be drawn to Stellar by the sounds of shit being smashed to pieces. If asked, he’ll explain that, you know, he’s just practicing his swings. It has absolutely nothing to do with pent up stress from arriving here, dying, dying again, then spending three weeks in a void.

Absolutely nothing at all. ]

C. misc.

[ I KNOW this is not much of a party post but I wanted to condense. Please feel free to still make your own top levels for the weed thing! Tag each other. Go wild. I don’t care. Also, wildcard goes here. We can do whatever your lil heart desires. Hit me up at commodore

Comments

B

[cacophonish]

Jeff should be at the weed party prompt. It's his natural habitat, right? Instead, here he is, drawn to the sounds of things smashing, poking his head into Stellar with apprehensive curiosity.

Briefly, a thought occurs to him: is Steve possessed? Is he like Sharky was, some imposter out to get his guard down and crack him over the head? Then again, if he was looking to get anyone's guard down, he wouldn't be swinging around a bat with nails in it... It's not exactly inviting. Or guard... downing...

Anyway. He watches a model ship go up in splinters, blinking, wondering what it'd feel like to get his hands on the bat and start smashing the shit out of all this junk, too. Like, he shouldn't, because he's a pacifist, and he doesn't lose his temper like that, and this is totally antithetical to everything he's been raised to believe, and his own gentle nature and--

"Um. Can I take a swing?"

[inhairently]

By now, Steve has heard about what happened in October. He knows that he was among many who, shall we say, weren't exactly themselves for a while. So when his initial reaction to Jeff's appearance is to tense up thanks to the memory of Jeff standing by and watching as Steve was drowned, he stops and reminds himself: that was someone else.

He also thinks that if Jeff's experience is anything like his own, he could probably stand to smash a few model ships. Maybe even a wine glass or two.

"Yeah sure," he says, and holds out the bat. "Just watch out for the, uh —" He gestures towards the nails with his other hand. You know, in case Jeff, uh, hadn't noticed them.

[cacophonish]

That little tense moment, brief as it is, is almost enough to make Jeff turn tail and bolt out of Stellar, because he doesn't want to think about what the context could be, all the different ways he could've wronged or-- worse-- hurt Steve over the missing weeks. Like, fuck, what if he's the reason the guy's taking a bat to Stellar in the first place?

For that moment, he's like a rabbit, frozen because it's just been spotted, on the verge of scurrying away, then-- He relaxes, moves in, and takes up the bat curiously, just feeling its weight in his hands at first.

"Thanks, man." He mimes a very awkward, totally unpracticed swing, like he's planning just how he's going to strike at the little ships. "So, uh, what's up with the... nails?"

[inhairently]

Up until now, Steve has been rather needlessly cagey about the situation back home. Initially he'd thought there might be a risk in telling people about the kinds of monsters one might encounter in Hawkins, and he'd only mentioned the demobats in passing to Clarke and Vance. Once he realized it really didn't matter if he talked about it or not, he just continued to... not.

So, "Oh" is what he says when Jeff asks about the nails, and he considers shrugging off the question or pretending he doesn't know why he received a nail bat, in particular. Then he thinks that maybe he ought to start being a little more forthcoming with people. This place is only going to keep getting worse, apparently. Might as well try to make some friends.

"The town I'm from is sitting on top of this, like, alternate dimension we call the Upside Down," he says quite casually as if he's talking about how his town was known for its award-winning tomatoes or its particularly nice winter carnival. "Sometimes monsters from the Upside Down get through to our world. So."

And with that he shrugs, raising his eyebrows as if to say "and there you have it. nails."

[cacophonish]

"Whoa."

Jeff blinks. Explanation accepted. He looks down at the bat again and shifts it about in his hands with a newfound sort of reverence.

"So this is, like, a monster slaying bat. Right on."

Now it's time to slay a monster of his own! A metaphorical monster, that is, of his memories-- or lack thereof-- of the past month. It's fine. He heads over to one of the boats and raises the bat.

"All right, up to bat, all the way from sunny LA, iiiiit's... Jeff Calhoun!" He wrinkles his nose and looks over at Steve. "Fuck, man, I don't know anything about baseball."

And then: he brings it down on the model ship. It's not the hardest he could've swung, but it's enough to give a satisfying crunch as splinters go flying and, okay, he's got a taste for blood now.

[inhairently]

Steve makes a dismissive sound and shrugs. "Baseball's alright. You're not missing much."

Spoken like a real Basketball Boy, you know? Anyway, he watches as Jeff swings and takes out the model ship. It's almost as satisfying to watch as it is to actually destroy the things yourself.

"Whoa, good one," he says, genuinely impressed as he slow claps. "You should try the crystal. It's pretty good, too."

Does he feel a little bad about smashing fancy dinnerware that someone else is going to have to clean up? Nope. Maybe he should. Under normal circumstances he definitely would. But right now? After that shit last month? He couldn't possibly care less.