[Semi-Open Mingle] Sir Vaughan's Faun Fest

[rollfordiplomacy]

Who: Everett Vaughan and ALL the Fauns he can invite.
(I - III. Open to all Faun Monster Type characters! IV. is OTA!)
When: March, after the fullmoon.
Where: Everett's Garden and Cottage
What: Teaching! Drinking! Food!
Warnings: Drunken shenanigans, but keeping this SFW, friends.


[OOC: Mingle post rules!! I will absolutely respond to everybody here with Everett, but OTA topleveling and tagging around is encouraged, too!

Wildcards with new prompts are totally welcome.]


I. One brisk morning...

An announcement goes out upon the Watch Network, after the full moon has be settled a few days. An invitation! All the Mirrobound Faun are cordially welcome to the cottage of Everett Vaughan, for an afternoon of lessons, food, and entertainment. Even if they are not yet acquainted, no time better than the present to meet!

Given Everett's experience with the different varieties of Faun Magic, and extensive reading on the manifestations there of, he is offering to teach what he has learned to others.

Additionally, he mentions that his beloved bonded, Myrobalan Shivana (Vaughan), has only just manifest magic of his own. Which is an occasion to be celebrated! Any who arrive will be welcome to join in and enjoy the evening with good company.

The lessons Everett has planned are primarily out in his garden. There, he encourages his fellows to coax already living plants to further bloom, giving his best guidance and advice. He also has a variety of different seeds to try growing from their freshest start. A tree in the center of his backyard is of particular attention, of modest size in the morning, but steadily reaching up and outward as he encourages more of his brethren to practice channeling their energy there.

He also has many animals about, who are very talkative to those who can or care to listen.

Primarily, there are many, many, many beautifully groomed city rats he has taken in. They all have names that they chose for themselves, usually household objects. Everett asked them for their names rather than giving them, in most cases. Some of note would be a particularly chubby rat going by Spoon, a mischievous pair named Peanut and Butter, and the pet rat Everett arrived with, Clementine (who by far the most polite). There is also an adolescent petalwolf, of white and yellow coloration, Daisy. She is not very talkative, but very affectionate and friendly.

II. ... A warm evening...

Once the lessons are wrapped up, it's time to relax. Or, rather, it's time to enjoy themselves! To mark the evening, Everett has purchased a piano for himself to play, an old talent of his. There are also some other hand held instruments he picked up, if any others would like to try their hand or already enjoyed playing music. It is yet another aspect of their kind he wished to incorporate.

While his guests socialize, there is a bounty set out to eat and drink. Food grown from his garden is in abundance, crunchy vegetables and sweet fruits line his tables and counters. There is also a traditional Springtide roast duck he spent the day slow cooking in the oven, a dish all would have been smelling throughout the day. The seasoning is richly savory and complex in flavor, though Everett will not share what it is. He won't be offended if any prefer to avoid meat, there are plenty of other options at hand.

Along with food, there is plenty to drink. Though, perhaps, not enough given how many fauns are present. Barrels of cider line a wall and wine bottles can be lifted at will. Everett encourages everybody to enjoy anything they like. (Except each other! If that bit of a faun urge strikes, best to go to your own homes! Discretion, please, he's still somewhat prudish on that matter.)

Music fills the air as the evening presses on into night. While Everett is purely amateur at both playing piano and singing, he gets drunk and revelrous enough to play without a care to that. Too much confidence and passion for it to much matter. He encourages other to sing and holler, cheer and whoa-oh along to his songs or their own.

[General vibe of the songs he's playing piano version of would be folkish and whimsical, if often just grimly funny, drinking shanties to keep things fun.]

III. ... and two nights, more.

At this point, the party has still been going for a whole three days, uninterrupted.

There have been plenty of runs for more wine and food is plucked freshly from the garden as desired. The festive atmosphere is going and going as the fauns still lingering let their instincts take better hold.

Neighbors will certainly be complaining, at this point. Not just because of the constant sound of music and revelry, either. Unbeknownst to the fauns in their merriment, they have overgrown the entire square block with plants. Overgrowth is bursting from the side walks and crawling up the walls, extending high above every home. What had been a humble tree Everett at the start of this became a test subject early in training. That is now a massive thing, towering into the sky and reaching over the surrounding cottages. The roots are upturning some of Everett's back porch, one has crawled into his kitchen to make it's stay within his sink, but their host seems more bemused and proud of this than anything.

Keep the party going or finally retire, it's up to his company. Everett isn't kicking a single soul out, though perhaps it's about time to quiet down. The Coven might be on it's way to break up such a raucous affair.

IV. Collect your Faun (OTA Option)

Wondering where that faun friend or bonded has gone off to the last three days? Crash the end of the party, come collect your bit of the trouble, call a carriage to take them home. The garden gate and all Everett's doors are wide open at this point, though he's not as likely to give an entirely polite welcome. The host might have a bit of a headache, come this hour.

Comments

[petcromancer]

Morning

[Hector doesn't know what to expect of this party. There will be a handful of strangers, two fauns who he's gotten to know very well, and the bondmate of one of those two fauns....

So Hector's in the garden, getting to know the rats and petalwolf. No complex relationships to parse there. He's brought his dog with him, because he doesn't know how long the party will last and Cezar doesn't like being alone. He's hoping there will be wine to help him navigate the rest of the evening.

He watches one rat climbing up a tree.]

Which one are you? What was the name...Chestnut?

Evening

[The feast brings a smile to Hector's face (although the copious amount of wine he's already consumed probably doesn't hurt). He sways to the music as he feeds himself grapes and tosses little bits of roast duck and bread chunks to the dog at his feet.]

We need games. Cards, dice. It'll be... fun. [What a novel concept. Hector doesn't have much coin to gamble away, but it's a party, and there are other ways of making friendly wagers.]

Night(s)

[He couldn't say how long the party has gone on. Everything is a pleasant haze, and the faunish hungers have finally faded away to lethargy. Hope you don't mind a sheep sleepily leaning against you. Just think pillow-y thoughts and let it happen.]

Evening

[rollfordiplomacy]

Cards and dice I do have, my lad! [Everett answers with mirth, popping open a new bottle of wine. Does he have a glass for himself? No? Just planning on drinking straight from that, it seems. There's enough to go around, this one can be his alone. (How many has he already had? He's not kept count...)]

But cards and dice are only as fun as the wagers made! What did you wish to gamble?

[petcromancer]

[Hector is sticking to glasses of wine, at least, but he's flushed and loose in a way he isn't usually. He smiles as he watches Everett's lips on the opening of the bottle. He could think of plenty of fun wagers, but Everett's already had to caution a few fauns this evening about curbing their amorous intentions. Something else, then...]

Hmmm. The loser has to... perform a trick for the room.

[A group of drunken fauns, what's the worst that could happen?]

[rollfordiplomacy]

Oooh, a fun wager, indeed! What shall I grab? Dice? Dice! [they're the closest thing, Everett seeing a bowl with his dice set up on a nearby shelf. He retrieves and goes to his sitting area around the cottage hearth.

Seating himself in one of two armchairs, motioning for Hector to sit close, if perpendicular to him at the couch. Sitting beside one another seems a recipe to get a fellow faun in his lap and he's trying to tamp down on that behavior! Even if he far from minds, especially from Hector... but save that for a more private time between just them.]

Night; have an embarrassing deer

[faithlikeaseed]

[Myr's a little too solid to be an ideal pillow, even if he's covered in fur, but he's never made a point of discouraging anyone trying to use him as one.

Only half-awake and a fifth sober himself, he's thrown an arm around Hector and is currently petting the other man's hair like it's the softest thing he's encountered in his life.

In fact...maybe it is the softest thing he's ever encountered.

He turns his head to smush his face into said hair in service of testing this hypothesis.]

S'nice, [he mumbles, appreciative.]

[petcromancer]

[The solidity doesn't act as a deterrent, and as long as the stroking continues, Hector isn't going anywhere. He sleepily bumps his head up into the hand like a dog for more pets.

He'll be mortified if he remembers this in the morning.]

's a good party.... [He murmurs, assuming that is what his pillow is saying.]

[faithlikeaseed]

[The less that's said about this end of the party after, the better. Right now, though, Myr is more than happy to continue petting this Soft New Friend.]

Mhm. Good hair, too. [This nerd; even when he's not even awake he's got to be Precise.]

Evening

[wylderrant]

Oh, cards! I love cards! We ought to have a set around here somewhere, right?

[ Iramaat has been happily drinking and dnacing her evening away so far, but the suggestion of a game of chance wins through and she's all eager smiles and enthusiasm. Still - her antlers are still regrowing and there are signs of old wounds. She tries not to let it show, though. ]

Do you know any good card games? I know a few...

[petcromancer]

Knowing Everett, there must be a set close at hand.

[Hector's been here before for magic tutoring sessions, and he's drunk enough to not be concerned about a little bit of snooping around. He rifles through an end-table drawer and comes away with a box of cards.]

How are you at poker?

[It's relatively straightforward and not too hard to teach if it's not a game from her world.]

[wylderrant]

Poker? I don't know the name, but I'm a quick learner. So long as you give me a bit of a run-down on the rules, I'm sure I'll pick up quick as lightning!

[ Iramaat leans foward eagerly, eyeing the cards. ]

How is it played? And what are we going to bet?

[hoboagogo]

Morning (...ish. I mean he's not waking up early for this.)

[There's a soft sort of relief that comes along with finally giving into some of those faun instincts. Shinjiro has never really been one to socialize, but fauns are something of a herd animal. And so even the simple act of walking into a building with so many others like himself- sporting various growths of horn and fur and hooves- bring a unknitting of tension, a settling inside that he can't really define.

Weird.

He's not good at meet and greets, really-- and so when he's not just being a gangly wall flower, paying more attention to the Petalwolf than the other people, he'll do his best to at least attempt conversation.]

So... what are you?

[you can't just ask people what kind of faun they are you fucking rude boy.]


In the garden (can you keep plants out of your mouth for 5 seconds)

[While he'd learned the basics of gardening, using any sort of magic he may have been afforded as a faun really just... hadn't happened yet. He'd never had an aptitude for anything like it, even back home. Sure, he'd been able to read animals better, but that just felt like an extension of something he'd already known. Magic was different. So yeah, he's interested in learning how to tap into that.

One of the first things that catches his eye, though, is one of the plants amongst Everett's garden. Moderately large, with large red flowers that look remarkably similar to one that he'd received months ago, that's still growing wildly in a corner of the kitchen. And so, always completely unable to tune into any sort of class activity for more than a few seconds, he'll wander over towards it. And, after checking his shoulder, he'll take a large bite of one of the blooming flowers.

Yep. Tastes the same. The parent plant, maybe? His fuzzy ears relax down as he falls into thought, chewing on the soft petals. This has got to be the same hibiscus. Maybe eating another bloom will confirm.]


Evening (boy just take a fucking drink)

Ah-- no, I'm good. [It's a tentative refusal of yet another glass of wine thrust his way. He doesn't mind the raucous merry-making of the herd of fauns, but alcohol was something he'd never developed a taste for. (When you used to have a monster in your head that could demolish buildings if you lost control, the idea of lowering inhibitions starts to sour.)

But then again, this is a completely different world. He has no Persona here that could get out of hand. So, really, what stupid ghost is he holding onto?

After a bit, he finally steps up to another faun at the kegs, hooves clacking against the wood, but nearly inaudible through the games and yelling and laughing and slightly-off-key piano.]

...So's that any good?


Later Evening- lETS FIGHT??? (actually maybe no, dont have drinks)

[So alcohol is definitely good for loosening people up. After a while, Shinjiro is perched on the back of a chair, hooves on the seat, cup loose in his fingertips, and looking over the other people here, if only to find anyone who actually has horns grown in. Some are too new, some have had their antlers drop off and are regrowing nubs with velvet, and here he is, a rowdy goat with thick, six-or-so inch long horns and an urge to lock them with someone.

It can't be too hard to find someone to headbutt. Right??

He finally points at someone, calling out over the din:]

Hey. Let's lock horns.

[this fucking idiot smh.]


More evenings??? days??? (go HOME your bonded are worried)

[It's a wild blur. Sleeping at times, outside under a small awning if necessary. Waking up and getting enough wine to make the headache stop and fun return. Eating an entire head of lettuce instead of an actual meal. This is crazier than any way he'd ever lived when he was homeless, even, and everyone around just seems content to revel in it, encouraging one another, getting the tired and drunk into makeshift beds or cheerfully cooking and finding more food.

Maybe he should text his bonded and find out what day it is.

Maybe he should find his watch so he can do that.

And so at some point he's absolutely half-shoved under a piece of furniture, somewhere between tipsy and hungover, and patting and pawing at the floor in exhaustion, as though it will somehow reveal his watch to him.]

In the garden

[rollfordiplomacy]

Quite tasty, lad? [Everett pops around a corner to say, because he'd seen all that. He sounds utterly bemused, needing to tease.]

They're even better dried and in a tea, if you enjoy the flavor.

[hoboagogo]

[If nothing else, he manages to keep from giving too much of an embarrassed flinch at being called out. But really-- he's getting used to it. Eating weird things, having people just roll with it because he's a goat.

And so he turns and swallows, before rolling a shoulder.]

S'alright. It's like one I got back home.

[Tea, though.... after a moment he nods.]

I think I've had that, back home. It's kinda sour, right?

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Everett only just then remembers that he gifted the young man a plant all those many months ago. Mostly because he takes notes about such things and keeps all too many records about goings on he may or may not be involved in. It was a passing joke, but still something he didn't push entirely out of his mind. The memory drawing a smile to his face]

Is that the one I left you, as a gift? Or one you grew yourself? I was much newer to such growing magic at the time.

Shots Shots Shots

[petcromancer]

That takes like goat's piss. [Hector replies, giving the beer keg a tap with his hoof. Look, medieval beer wasn't great and he has Opinions. He gestures to a table nearby, which is scattered with bottles of wine in various stages of empty.]

Start with one of those, if you don't know what you're doing. Probably something light. When you're drunk enough to not care about the taste, that's when you try the beer.

partyin partyin YEAH

[hoboagogo]

[He lifts a brow at the hoof tapping, before giving a short, amused huff.]

I dunno if that's a compliment for me or an insult to the beer. [It's an incredibly dry comment, and he immediately turns away from the keg, willing to trust the guy's judgement. Better than just making things worse for himself.

And so he'll approach the table and scoop up two of the empty glasses, one immediately offered towards Hector.]

Sounds good. You want a glass?

[petcromancer]

The beer. [Shinjiro loves dogs; he's alright in Hector's book.

He reaches out a hand to take the offered glass.]

Yeah, I could stand another drink. [He wasn't a heavy drinker before, but you could say he'd developed a faundness for booze here in the city. He raises the glass in the other faun's direction, then takes a sip.]

FIGHT or not

[wylderrant]

[ Iramaat normally has a full rack of antlers - or had, anyway - until that incident a few months ago. They're still growing back in at the moment and she blinks at Shinjiro over the din of the party, cup of wine in one hand. She sways slightly, hooves skittering as she wanders over to him where he's perched on the chair, laughing. ]

Normally I'd oblige you, but mine are still coming back in...

[ She leans forward on the chair instead, one hand close to his side. She thrusts the half-empty cup of wine at him instead. ]

Allow me... allow me to offer you a draught. And the promise of a competition when I'm good and ready, hmm?

[ She's drunk. But everyone else is drunk, too. ]

[hoboagogo]

[His eyes roll with an exaggerated sigh.]

You antlered fucks. [It's said with nothing but affection, at least? Hell, one of his bonded is an aforementioned 'antlered fuck'. But antlers sure are more transient and more fragile than a goat's horns, and sometimes you just have the urge to ram your head against someone else.

He does pause for a moment at the sudden proximity, blinking those wide-pupiled eyes as he looks from how close she suddenly is to the cup of wine offered.]

...Yeah. Thanks. Rain check works. [And he'll... reach over her to place his own empty cup on the table, before leaning back to take the one offered to him. Look he's well on his way to drunk himself, which is an absolutely new experience for him. So he's.... trying.]

Now you're gonna need another, though. [Said as he doesn't hesitate in drinking from her glass that she'd given him.]

iv; open?? closed??? something

[bloodwit]

[ ... so, one day? sure. two days? fine. three days? this seems like it's pushing it, even for a grown faun that viren knows is capable of minding himself (most of the time, anyway). he's perfectly aware of what's been happening here—it's hard not to notice, even if he isn't an immediate neighbor—had hesitated in crashing any festivities. ]

[ but, no. three days. by the third, with a heavy heart, viren steps to everett's door (ducking under some low-hanging branches on the way, picking around some overgrown shrubbery). there's a sharp rap at the door; he steps back to wait, and calling out: ]

EVerett?

[rollfordiplomacy]

[There's a somewhat belated groan, at the call of his name. It's not from within the home before Viren, however. Directly above him, more like it. Everett is lounging on the roofside of his porch overhang. It was comfortable outside! And soft, given the entire roof of the cottage has been overtaken in a thick blanket of grass and moss.]

I'm here, but I don't know where you are? [beneath you, on more solid ground, Everett!]

[bloodwit]

[ viren's eyes widen as he hears the voice come from... nowhere immediately distinct; but so he pulls back from everett's doorshep, head tipping back to try to locate the man. ]

How did you -


[ ah, you know what. don't answer that. goat. ... mountain goat. right. ]

[ there's a loud enough puff of breath that everett may hear it even at their distance. ]

On the ground, Everett. Are you planning to come down, anytime soon?

[wylderrant]

Wild Revels

This - this is more akin to the parties that Iramaat is used to, in a certain respect. Free-flowing wine and food, good company, laughter, excitement. It's all heightened by her own faun-aspect as well and she finds herself caught up in everything. It's the music that calls to her the most. So at some point during the evening, Iramaat is on one of the tables, hooves spread to keep her balance, a mug of something alcoholic in one hand - and she's belting out a song at the top of her lungs and dancing on the tabletop.

I counted out his money and it made a pretty penny
I put it in me pocket and I took it home to Jenny
She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me
But the devil take the women for they never can be easy

She extends a hand down to whomever just happens to be closest. Come on up and join her!

Wildcard

You know how it goes.

Wild Revels

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Everett's furniture is about to be tested. He's not far from the table Iramaat was dancing upon, playing the musical backing to her song with occasionally off key piano playing. He is mockishly scolding to see her trying to coax another onto the dining set]

Now, now! Don't collapse my table! Sit and sing upon the piano top, my dear, it's, it's sturdier!

[wylderrant]

But I want to dance-!

[ Iramaat protests good-naturedly. Although her hooves probably are doing a number on the poor tabletop. Still, he is the host, so she slides down from the table and over to the piano, hopping up to perch on it. She glances down at Everett with a smile, lifting her glass. ]

Shall I sing a love-song for you, then?