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

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

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

But it's nice up here... Come join me. [Everett rolls onto his back to face the sky. It wasn't exactly sunny out, but that's better for his hangover to not be blasted with bright light. A little overcast on this morning, the occasional drop of rain without it really opening up. Nice! Pleasant! Definitely better than being inside. He wants to stay laid down in the balmy grass,

... When Viren goes inside it's mostly a wreck. So much for Everett's "tidiness", seems even that runs it's course over three days of a party. There are empty cider kegs tipped into into a corner, wine and cigarette butts strewn about, patchy areas of grass and moss growing inside where people decided to throw furs around themselves to nap between days. Luckily, it seems that by the time Viren arrives the other fauns have found their ways home or been collected. It's (probably) just Everett left at his home.]

[ the invitation does sound appealing, particularly as to the noted lack of rain (strong sunshine would be just a bit more difficult to decline). but, no, he's not here to lounge about on a roof. viren pauses in the doorway, gaze jumping from one area of a mess to the next (it's a lot to cover). good grief is he relieved that this isn't the state of his home.

he storms through the home a purposeful stride, preferring a straight beeline rather than having to pick his away delicately around messes. this rather results in a few things being pushed out of his way. ... finally, he makes it to the kitchen.

now, he's no claudia, but he can put together a decent meal; after several minutes have passed, everett just might pick up on the sweet scent of jams and pastries, pancakes, fruits and whatnot wafting through an open window. ]

[That does smell good.

Everett's particularly hungry after so much drinking and the sweet scent of fresh cooking soothes the headache beginning to form. Viren just went in, was he make breakfast?

Oh no, adorable...

If Viren happens to look out through the doorway, he'll see Everett hanging his head over the edge of the porch, hanging upsidedown so his hair flopped in a humorous mess downwards. A good thing he hooks his glasses to his horns now, or those would have fallen straight off his face. Yep. That's Viren in his kitchen, he'll be damned! He calls out, voice rather raspy]

Coming, my lord..! [you got him, Viren, he couldn't resist that]

[Not all the Fauns have left Everett's disaster of a house.

A white ear pokes up from a stand of particularly long grass.]

S'that pancakes? [comes a sleepy mumble. You Have Awakened The Deer.]

[ it's hard to miss the flop of hair, met with a pointed raise of his eyebrows; he waits until everett ducks out of sight again to allow himself a very triumphant and self-satisfied smirk. food could be a wonderful motivator.

and viren had taken the time time to neatly set out (as neat as he can, the surrounding area in the disarray that it is. presentation is important) some butter and syrup, slice the fruit, set out a pot of caffeinated tea and a glass of water— ]

[ oh! ]

Myro..balan? [ a guess from what he'd briefly heard. ] Yes, pancakes. ... I didn't realize you were still here.

[ seriously, he should've inspected the piles more closely - and he should probably get out another plate, then. ]

[It takes some motivation, but Everett will get himself up and shaken out. Mostly. There will still be leaves and grass stuck to his fur and back, but he gets most of it off his front. With a grunt and a baah, he'll be swinging over the edge of the porch roof and catching hit hooves into the supports to climb down.

He doesn't do a great job of it, just completely falling the last portion and landing with a FOOF noise into a bush, but it's not of anything with thorns. He's fine! He'll be fine. Just rolling out of that, longing for a sense of dignity, clattering into the house again on stumbling hooves.]

Darling Myr, yes, good... you're still here. Feared I lost you beneath the grass!

[The sound of a capacious yawn emerges from the impromptu tussock, as do a hand and a hoof as Myr s t r e t c h e s.]

Didn't realize I was still here, [he replies to Viren, cheerily nonsensical in his awakening.] What a night.

[A good night? A bad night? ...How many nights, exactly? Contemplating those questions may be distressing later, but for now he's going to inspect the possibility of pancakes because he is ravenous.

He sits all the way up with...an odd tearing noise, and it becomes clear part of his camouflage was because someone overgrew him with all that grass and now there's a bunch stuck in his antlers, roots and all.

Welp. That's a thing.] ...Maker, how long was I asleep?

... Likely not all three days, I would think.

[ everett may be better suited for answering that, though. with a light clattering of plates and some silverware, when myr should be free from the hold of those plants, he will find that — indeed, there is a possibility of pancakes for him as well. ]

[ when he's finished with that, he does peer back over to myr; his claws could make quick work of blanketing, but he hopes he's not actually stuck in that mess. ]

Three days? That can't be correct... [Everett is neither good at math nor keeping track of time. Just a fault of growing up beneath the ground, without a sun to orient ones self. Not to mention the days were overcast in Aef, so day and night easily bled together, especially when helped with copious amounts of alcohol.

He sits at the table, after picking some mushrooms off his bench seat. He sniffs the little things things to check what kind they are, deems them safe, and then his goatish instinct just munches them right down. Viren's breakfast does appear much better, though, blech]

[Fortunately, while the grass did get his antlers rather spectacularly, Myr's not actually pinned by it. There's another noise of roots being ripped up wholesale as he rips up a strip of sod, then clambers woozily to his hooves.] Where's my--

[Hang on, he'll be a bit longer coming to table, he's got to find his staff. And divest himself of the three pounds of plant matter cumbering his head.

Of course his focus on that goes out the window at the mention of how long they'd been at it--] Three days?! Andraste's ti-- [Language!! He swallows back the rest of the comment.]

[ the mushrooms... ]

... Three days of partying, yes. I couldn't say whether either of you were conscious for entirety of it, but considering how noisy it all could be—

[ he, yes, doubts it. granted, he doesn't live close enough that his part of the neighborhood had been disturbed, but as he may have tried to check in at least once, only to reconsider that plan of action upon nearing...

well. ]

I, [ hm, ] had thought it was a deliberate choice.

Mmm, w, while I do take full responsibility, deliberate might not be the... oof, the correct word. [Choice? Sure, many choices were definitely made. Were they well thought out, purposeful, planned choices? Definitely not. Everett was working off impulse and impulse alone after that first night. It's a good thing he could drunkenly keep his one real rule of no banging in his house...

He'll reach for Myr when the deer finally stumbles towards the table, taking his darlings hand and pulling him in close to sit at the table with him. A side embrace that's careful to dodge antlers. Cuddle up with him, that'll help the hangover, won't it? Or maybe that's what the water is for... he'll pass that considerately to Myr, first.]

[Myr realizes, as he snuggles up to Everett, he could very conveniently cop to not even knowing the days, multiple, were passing; what's daylight or darkness to a blind man?

Except, casting his mind back, he finds he does remember noting the song of birds at dawn and crickets toward dusk, among...many other things... Groaning to himself, he takes the water from Everett's hand and knocks back a slug of it before handing it back.]

Maker and His Bride, [he mumbles,] we're lucky we don't have the whole neighborhood on us.

[A single, solitary bee drifts in through one of the windows the roots have prised open and alights on an antler. It's safe to come back now, apparently.]

[ the suggestion of irresponsible is on the tip of his tongue, but viren's sure that ... both of them, would already know what he thinks of this. he will try to be marginally gentler this hungover morning. ell, he can even get myr his own glass of water. he's generous. ]

[ "try," though. ]

[ myr's comment draws a slight pull of his lips, almost a smile. the idea of the neighborhood storming toward the cottage, torches and pitchforks in hand to put a final stop to their merriment, probably shouldn't be that funny. ]

Yes... Perhaps, as this is your first transgression, you received some leniency. What is this to be? An annual affair? Monthly?

Once.... one time, that's all.

[Everett will take the water to finish off anything Myr didn't drink, before leaning an elbow onto the table. He pulls his glasses to set aside so he can fully bury his face into a hand, rubbing his aching temple.]

I swear I hadn't felt my age, but now it's returned by weighty decades. I can't do this time and time over. [he's forty and that's too many years old for this to be a monthly affair]

[Viren needn't fear on that count; Myr knows very well what the Dragon would say--because his own conscience has also caught up with him as he sits and quietly contemplates just what they got up to.

On the positive end of things, while it was amazingly irresponsible it didn't...go as badly as he'd have thought totally cutting loose would? So there is that.

On the negative end, ... he's not entirely sure what they've done to Everett's house.

He wraps an arm around his Bonded's waist, leaning a little more into the other Faun for mutual comfort.]

Even at more'n a decade your junior I can't contemplate doing that again, [he chimes in. It's not just that you're old, Everett!!

...but also, lest he seem ungrateful over something done partly for his sake--] Once was excitement enough. Thank you, dearheart; it was quite the day--days.

[With all his usual sweet sincerity--he DID have fun!! ...probably too much fun. Weird that he's not regretting it much, but that's got its advantages as well.

That said...he tips head and ears toward Viren, suddenly abashed,]

...How, uh. How much of a spectacle did we make, exactly?

[Since he can't see the ENTIRE TREE engulfing the house...]

Enough of one. I gave you, wisely, a wide berth for a few days.

[ no much getting involved in that. he's almost tempted to keep his answer vague, let myr's imagination run horrifyingly wild. not that the truth is, um, too far off the mark from that. ]

Everett's place is much... greener, now. [ it's like viren thinks he's funny sometimes. there's not even a joke there. but anyway, myr will hear the noise of a plate nudged his way. ] —You two should start eating, by the way; I am not reheating any of this.

[ dig in!! he will make more pancakes if required, he guesses; even without magic, those are easy enough to whip up. ]

[Everett puffs at Viren's.... assessment. He will put his glasses back on and blink his eyes heavily, looking about.]

Greener is putting it lightly. Yes. I would say there is no longer a true distinction between inside and outside of my cottage. They're about one and the same... I'll need tidy that all up.

[but before then, pancakes! Warm and fluffy and very good smelling. And tasting! As he soon discovers when he takes a bite. He hums to chew and then swallow, not lacking for his manners despite the state of things.]

Mmmm, delicious. How gracious of you, my lord. Thank you.

[There's another whispered oath from Myr as his imagination does, indeed, run wild with what little he's put together from where and how he awakened.

Then he's walking his fingers across the table to find the proffered plate and attendant utensils, and work out where the pancake is on it with little nudges of knife and fork.]

Must you? [To Everett, as a wild thought takes him and tugs up one corner of his mouth.] I mean--clean up what's left of the party, but is having a garden for a home so bad an idea?

[Then he will make inroads on his own pancake... Inroads that rapidly turn into a full-scale offensive versus the humble kingdom of Pancakia.

Waged with the utmost manners, of course.

But it's a good pancake.]

You're welcome. [..] My daughter's own recipe, of course, trumps my own.

[ viren does appreciate the... appreciation. the praise. he is internally glowing. even if myr doesn't verbalize it, he certainly knows wolfing down food is a compliment to the chef (these are probably exceptionally basic pancakes, all things considered, but one can imagine it tastes like a godsend of a hangover meal). ]

[ his mention of claudia aside, though — the inquiry of everett is met with a raise of his eyebrows, a look to the man for an answer; viren can think of a few reasons why having a garden for a home may not be the best of ideas in practice, but these are fauns, and — ]

[ it certainly sounds nice. ]

I must! I truly, really must. My more faunish instincts do not yet overwhelm my Springtide sensibilities. Not just yet...

[which was evidence in him somehow managing to keep a three day long wild faun party chaste. Far as he knows. It wasn't like he was kicking open his extra rooms to be sure nothing frisky was happening. If he didn't witness, it didn't happen! Yep. The Springtide way.

He chews some pancake with a hum of enjoyment, downing it politely before speaking. Even hungover. Manners are important.]

... these are truly a dragon's blessing about now, Viren. I praise your majesty. [in his world speak, a blessing from the gods and the title of one, it just happens to line up perfectly]

[Myr pauses his campaign against Pancakia only to utter a sigh at Everett's insistence--but he nods concession as well. It is Everett's house, after all.]

An idea for later, [he grants...and stops himself, setting down his utensils, before he can continue wolfing down the diminished pancake.]

I can't say it better than Everett; this is beyond welcome. [He grins, then.] I daresay you've rescued us again. Thank you.

[ is viren basking in all of this praise and gratitude? yes, yes, he is. it nourishes whatever's left of his soul. he doesn't much seem to show it (unless one can detect a glow), if perhaps evinced by a flickering smile. ]

Well, you are my friends.

[ it is somewhat awkward to abruptly say, and he hopes it doesn't come across as some grand announcement. he's had friends before (once even had a best friend, too!), but more only people that barely arise to acquaintances in recent years. ]

[ he pulls over a mug of tea he'd made for himself, giving it a light sip. ]

I should think I would be happy to do so. [ rescue, anyway -- sometimes. breakfast may not be so much a regularity... ] Try not to make a habit of the need for it...

[The fact that Viren will say as much aloud means a lot to Everett. It feels like a prize to be won! When he does get to hear as much, spoken frankly.

That's certainly the Springtide in him, to get overwhelmed with adoration at something he already full well knew, without it being said. Viren reminds him of his people in many ways and they don't... say things like that. They don't admit their feelings towards each other. He could go on and on over his respect for Viren, praise him from morning to evening to morning again, but that Springtide manner holds back the core truth. That Viren is among those he truly loves.

Myr can't see the touched smile on is face, but will feel those emotions in force. What a sentimental man, Everett is. And so silly in what he holds back.

All that going on, while outwardly he undercuts with a joke,]

No promises.

[You are my friends, Viren says, and Myr's heart warms to hear it; after the rocky start they'd had, littered and thorned with the suspicions their pasts had cultivated in them, it is heart-cheering to know they've persevered to the point of real friendship.

Everett's good regard certainly has something to do with it-- Everett's...very, very good regard; that emotion in the Bond between the two Fauns is deeply compelling and unmistakeable, and not in the least little bit surprising. Equally not surprising, in Myr's estimation, is the fact it's gone unspoken so long; and that is a truly tragic fact indeed.

Eminently fixable, though. The look on Myr's face grows mischievous; his ears cant forward with amusement. He waits a moment to consider his exact approach (and hopefully no one decides to start drinking while he does). Then, casually as you please:]

So when are you two going to Bond, anyway?

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