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Entry tags:
Going to a party where no one's still alive
Who: Nico di Angelo ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
demigoth and anyone (literally anyone who comes will be let in, and the Hurly-Burly House lit up like Halloween with spectral activity will probably get their attention). Feel free to make Open starts for people other than Nico.
What: It's Nico's birthday! He maintains he's a hostage at this party.
When: January 28th
Where: Sunset Falls
Content Warnings: Not at this time.
Someone has put in effort for this party, here at the Hurl, albeit not the traditional kind of effort. Nico will claim it wasn't him, which narrows down the list of suspects considerably. The house's spectral inhabitants can't leave the property.
The black crepe streamers, for example, are looking bedraggled, and the party's barely started. Several of the ends trail down the wall or were simply left on the ground. Black balloons are scattered everywhere, and there's an entire bucket full of UV-reacting markers for people to play with. Every lightbulb on the first floor has been replaced with a blacklight. The first floor of the house is safe, you're told when you arrive, and it's stuffed with oversized rooms, including a mostly clean kitchen, parlor, library, dining room, and ... other sitting room. The ghosts say its meant to be a conservatory, but from the bean bag chairs, scuff marks, and Hot Topic detritus, it doesn't appear that all the inhabitants agree. A number of card-based games, like Wobbly Werewolves, Legenchantment, and Mary Sue are piled on the stool of a player piano that's missing the enamel on several of its keys.
Sharp eyes will notice that the cobwebs to be found in some corners and rafters are always impressive. Almost like someone decided to leave the creepy ones.
A metal drum filled with water, black food colouring, and apples that looks less like bobbing for apples and more like it's definitely how you die bobbing for apples. There's food, mostly snacky foods that would appeal to a teenager: chips and dips, bowls of candy, sandwiches. One might notice after a second how much of the food is black or nearly black: licorice, dark chocolate, blue corn tortilla chips, purple potato chips, moondrop grapes. Black Ice Gatorade and Grapey Grape Bug Juice abound. Yes, there's devil's food cupcakes, and some food that looks of incredibly dubious origins. Potentially the aftershot of your stomach after eating this all that food colouring. Then again, not all of the party guests are human. Or alive. The dips are glowing faintly because of the black light.
The dishes, on the other hand, are glowing a violent neon green, because the house has quite the uranium glass collection.
Music is blasting from the local hard rock channel on a repaired old-fashioned standing radio. There's also a record player in the parlor, with an eclectic collection of 100 years of abandoned records. In the snowy backyard, someone's tamped down enough snow to set up a fire pit with logs dragged around it from the woods edging the property to use as seats.
Those that venture upstairs will find a bathroom and six other doorways to bedrooms and the third floor. Only the bathroom is accessible, the remaining doors are heavily blocked off with caution tape, an orange traffic cone, and a pair of stolen street signs (saying, what else, STOP and DEAD END).
There's a lot more ghosts haunting the house than normal tonight. Nico expects they don't get out much, because they're doing a conga line inside the wrought iron fence by 8.
Arrival
Nico's not standing in the foyer greeting people. Why would he even...? But he's not hard to find, by the fire pit roasting marshmallows like it's not late January. Or swapping the radio back to heavy metal, thank you, it's his party and he wants to be screamed at. Maybe just chilling on a bean bag.
"You're here," he says by way of greeting. It's not clear if he thinks you shouldn't be, or if he's surprised anyone came. "That's cool."
Music
The radio's gone to commercial on what, in his estimation, is the only decent channel, so the record player has to step in again. Nico has an album in each hand. In a surprise to no one, the covers are almost entirely black. He is having an existential crisis over whether to play the universe's Metallica or MCR analogs.
Save him, or the 3 minute commercial break will play out in its entirety with not a single guitar lick.
Wild Card
[ OOC: Whatever you like. ]
demigoth and anyone (literally anyone who comes will be let in, and the Hurly-Burly House lit up like Halloween with spectral activity will probably get their attention). Feel free to make Open starts for people other than Nico.What: It's Nico's birthday! He maintains he's a hostage at this party.
When: January 28th
Where: Sunset Falls
Content Warnings: Not at this time.
Someone has put in effort for this party, here at the Hurl, albeit not the traditional kind of effort. Nico will claim it wasn't him, which narrows down the list of suspects considerably. The house's spectral inhabitants can't leave the property.
The black crepe streamers, for example, are looking bedraggled, and the party's barely started. Several of the ends trail down the wall or were simply left on the ground. Black balloons are scattered everywhere, and there's an entire bucket full of UV-reacting markers for people to play with. Every lightbulb on the first floor has been replaced with a blacklight. The first floor of the house is safe, you're told when you arrive, and it's stuffed with oversized rooms, including a mostly clean kitchen, parlor, library, dining room, and ... other sitting room. The ghosts say its meant to be a conservatory, but from the bean bag chairs, scuff marks, and Hot Topic detritus, it doesn't appear that all the inhabitants agree. A number of card-based games, like Wobbly Werewolves, Legenchantment, and Mary Sue are piled on the stool of a player piano that's missing the enamel on several of its keys.
Sharp eyes will notice that the cobwebs to be found in some corners and rafters are always impressive. Almost like someone decided to leave the creepy ones.
A metal drum filled with water, black food colouring, and apples that looks less like bobbing for apples and more like it's definitely how you die bobbing for apples. There's food, mostly snacky foods that would appeal to a teenager: chips and dips, bowls of candy, sandwiches. One might notice after a second how much of the food is black or nearly black: licorice, dark chocolate, blue corn tortilla chips, purple potato chips, moondrop grapes. Black Ice Gatorade and Grapey Grape Bug Juice abound. Yes, there's devil's food cupcakes, and some food that looks of incredibly dubious origins. Potentially the aftershot of your stomach after eating this all that food colouring. Then again, not all of the party guests are human. Or alive. The dips are glowing faintly because of the black light.
The dishes, on the other hand, are glowing a violent neon green, because the house has quite the uranium glass collection.
Music is blasting from the local hard rock channel on a repaired old-fashioned standing radio. There's also a record player in the parlor, with an eclectic collection of 100 years of abandoned records. In the snowy backyard, someone's tamped down enough snow to set up a fire pit with logs dragged around it from the woods edging the property to use as seats.
Those that venture upstairs will find a bathroom and six other doorways to bedrooms and the third floor. Only the bathroom is accessible, the remaining doors are heavily blocked off with caution tape, an orange traffic cone, and a pair of stolen street signs (saying, what else, STOP and DEAD END).
There's a lot more ghosts haunting the house than normal tonight. Nico expects they don't get out much, because they're doing a conga line inside the wrought iron fence by 8.
Arrival
Nico's not standing in the foyer greeting people. Why would he even...? But he's not hard to find, by the fire pit roasting marshmallows like it's not late January. Or swapping the radio back to heavy metal, thank you, it's his party and he wants to be screamed at. Maybe just chilling on a bean bag.
"You're here," he says by way of greeting. It's not clear if he thinks you shouldn't be, or if he's surprised anyone came. "That's cool."
Music
The radio's gone to commercial on what, in his estimation, is the only decent channel, so the record player has to step in again. Nico has an album in each hand. In a surprise to no one, the covers are almost entirely black. He is having an existential crisis over whether to play the universe's Metallica or MCR analogs.
Save him, or the 3 minute commercial break will play out in its entirety with not a single guitar lick.
Wild Card
[ OOC: Whatever you like. ]
Dylan Brock | OTA
It doesn't take more than a moment before Dylan plucks the
not-MetallicaFerrica vinyl from Nico's grasp and heading for the record player."I love them both," he says, very matter-of-factly, "but we need to make sure everyone here gets to experience the classics. Give 'em a little culture."
--
MINGLING
Dylan is standing a little ways from the radio, speaking to one of the ghostly guests in between bites of cupcake. "Yeah, the anger is kind of the whole point," he says, nodding toward the radio. "You don't really dance to it. You just kind of... vibe? And at concerts, you gather in the pit and start beating the hell out of each other. I've never done it though."
--
CARD GAMES
Dylan's engaged with a game of Wobbly Werewolves. Or trying to be.
"I have no idea how to play this game."
--
WILDCARD?
no subject
"I found an album yesterday called the Fatones that looks it's like the Ramones. Haven't listened to it yet."
no subject
"Wild how both our worlds have the Ramones and Metallica, but this one's got soundalikes." He gets the needle situated, and the metal music starts blasting.
He steps back to Nico, speaking a little louder this time. "Speaking of which, I've been looking up the music scene around here. You wanna go to a concert one of these days?"
no subject
He thinks he's getting the hang of talking about these multiple worlds. "Yeah, I want try out the - mash pit?"
no subject
He's not sure he wants to. He misses his dad, but... honestly, if he goes home, he'll still miss his dad. It's just that there, he won't have his friends. He won't have Nico or Will or Hunter.
"Speaking of gods, actually... the Thor here — well, the Thor that was here — they do kind of remind me of the from my world?" His expression falls a little. "Now I'm kind of bummed I never reached out to see if he recognized me."
Almost as soon as he says it, though, he shrugs it off. "Anyway, mosh pit. Yes. Absolutely. I've been doing some research and the music scene here in Sunset Falls is supposed to be good. There's a band called From Below that I want to check out one of these days."
no subject
"They have different gods in this world. You know that." They both do. Nico is very much not the son of this Hades. "Maybe it's okay if you don't find out for sure."
But he'll move on as well. "So what are we waiting for? Are they not doing shows?"
no subject
But that's a conversation for another day.
"Kept forgetting to bring it up, mostly." He laughs, but looks a little embarrassed.
"But now that I know you're interested, we definitely need to go see them. I'll look up when the next show is."
no subject
Nico's probably just invited himself to something that Dylan was going to do with Sleeper or Hunter or something. That's why Dylan's embarrassed. "Yeah. Okay. Sounds good."
They can definitely forget this happened.
no subject
...is what he would say if Nico voiced his thoughts. But Nico is quiet about his anxieties, and thus Dylan has no way to quell them. He brightens at Nico's affirmation.
"I really wanna try the mosh pit. I've heard it can get nuts in there."
no subject