[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

[rollfordiplomacy]

You wish to end the game as soon as that? Not any fun? [That's it, that's the whole protest and Everett knows it's a valid one.

This game is, ultimately, something to do for fun. To play it in a small dose might accomplish that, but Everett enjoys his it's always a new experience. The Mermaids are fascinating people and Everett happened to be good at their Gambit.]

[petcromancer]

Would you rather play all night? [Well, Hector has experienced firsthand how Everett likes his excess.

...damn it, though, but he hates to disappoint this silly goat. He sighs.]

How do we decide our winner, then?

[rollfordiplomacy]

How about seven points? So I do not roll another win and end up at half way to victory so quickly. [he winks, adding to the challenge with his confidence. Cheeky, just asking for bad luck, really, saying something like that.

He rolls his dice. 1. This bastard has always had good fortune on his side...]

[petcromancer]

Alright, seven it will be.

[Damn Everett and his infernal luck. Hector rolls, just in case he is able to match Everett, but comes up with a 4.]

Damn it, what are the odds?

[He's put aside his wine bottle and is focusing intently on the dice. Fun party game? No, this is a battle.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

Language, my dear. Also. One in six? [he answers, unhelpfully, before his brain seems to turn over that]

... that's not actually right. I'm very poor at math. [he admits, at least, taking a drag on his cigarette before taking his dice back up.]

New rule! A shot of whiskey to the winner of each round! [oh well, now they'll get even more drunk. He produces a bottle from a cabinet end table by his chair. Booze hidden in every place, it seems.]

[petcromancer]

What? We're all adults here. [Fuck, is he going to have to watch his language now too?]

Don't worry about the math. The dice can't keep favoring you. It's not statistically possible.

[He doesn't protest the rule. If Everett wants to drink more, it'll give Hector the advantage, right? Never mind that Hector will be drinking if he ever manages to score another point.

He rolls another 4. Because RNG hates him of course he does.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

Adults... [he laughs along at that distinction] Adults should have the best of manners, my boy!

[Everett says, who absolutely didn't scold Hector for language when they were in private. Seems manners don't need extend to the bedroom, with this man.

He rolls a three and laughs harder, slapping a knee]

Ahaahaha! I am sorry, for this poor luck of yours. I'll drink and you make your rule.

[petcromancer]

[How is Hector supposed to know how to please his mentor when the rules keep changing?

He looks at the dice with a sinking resignation. Logic is failing him. The world is cruel. Everett is laughing at Hector's failure. At least one of them is amused.

He thinks of ruling that 'the winner must compliment the loser', but that'll seem like he's sulking. He needs something to help him catch up, but if it's too overt, Everett will protest.]

If the dice are within a point of one another, the loser can request we re-roll.

[rollfordiplomacy]

A come back mechanic! Yes, yes, that's much more fun. Suspenseful! [to the contrary, Everett is delighted. Twist the rules, Hector, go right on ahead. That's how to play.

He'll toss his dice. 5. Oooh. Difficult to win on that.]

[petcromancer]

[Hector shakes the die in his cupped hand, and ends up with a 2. FINALLY.

Without a word, he pours himself a shot, meets Everett's eyes, and downs it. It's a harder liquor than he's used to, and it burns on the way down. He blinks hard to keep his eyes from watering. And Everett just has this stuff in his side table?]

Your move.

[rollfordiplomacy]

Hmmm hmmm... something more risky! An addendum to your rule. If you roll within one number of the other player, regardless of being higher or lower, you must roll again.

[will you catch the trickiness of his wording, Hector? He's says you, which could be presumed to mean either player.... but it could just mean you, just you Hector. Will his sly expression give him away? He'd be better at concealing that if he wasn't blasted]

[petcromancer]

[Oh, Everett. You have more faith in Hector than he deserves. He might expect such levels of deceit from a vampire, but he isn't on the watch for it here.

He assumes the expression is Everett's amusement at making the rule more 'fun', and so he nods.]

Very well.

[He rolls another 2. Finally, the tides of his luck have changed! He looks up from the roll, looking more smug than he should for a man still down by half.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Everett is going to see that betrayed look again, isn't he. And he's going to chuckle along at it, whoops. Hector does not have the mind for fine wording that a trained diplomat might.

Or maybe Everett will go easy on him, and not enact that cruel twist of wording. They'll need see.

... He rolls a 3. No mercy.]

Aha, a rule well made! Seems you must reroll, lad!

[petcromancer]

[Well, he'll see it if the conditions are met where Everett reveals his devious trickery. Until then, Hector still sees the illusion of fairness in the rule.

He wrinkles his brow, but scoops his die back up and gives it a shake. He releases, and lands on a 4.]

Ha! Now you reroll.

[rollfordiplomacy]

[He just cackles like an utter gremlin, waiting for Hector to reach for the throw pillow at this side and throw it into his face]

That's not the rule! I said you. Only you need reroll in that case, yes? I should take the point yet again.

[petcromancer]

What? No. That's not...

[His mind...well, it doesn't race, but it plods along through the alcoholic haze...to recall Everett's wording. There's no way he would be so pedantic...so mercenary...

...right?

...Everett's still laughing.

Hector doesn't hit him with the pillow. They're supposed to be well-mannered adults, aren't they? Apparently only when it suits Everett. Hector doesn't get flushed with anger. Tipsy, not in full control of his thoughts or his reactions, Hector grows cold. He's being toyed with. A world away from Wallachia and vampires, and still, it follows him here.]

You're awful.

[rollfordiplomacy]

That I can be! But, it's is play, dear Hector. You are not helpless. It is your turn to make a a rule that is so weighted against me! Can I argue against you, when I have been so cruel? I would have a difficult time of it.

[he loves these games, they're fun to explain and to consider, they're thought experiments. He winks around his shot of whiskey.]

You have an advantage.

[petcromancer]

Would it be difficult for you?

[They'll see if that's true, won't they? Hector scoots down the couch so he's not so close to Everett. Somebody's sulking.]

When you lose a round, you lose a point.

[rollfordiplomacy]

[In a drunken bit of forgetfulness, he won't make Hector reroll. Call that round and actual wash, no points earned. At Hector's new rule, Everett sucks in air through his teeth, that should hurt his odds! It's in good humor and appreciation.

Also, a more sad and gentle chuckle, oh noooo, Hector come baaaack...]

There we go, lad, you're getting the hang of it. I shall not protest. [he'll throw his dice. Another 3. Not in his favor, that.]

[petcromancer]

[Hector's little dog has been snoozing on the far end of the couch, and Hector reaches for him and pulls him into his lap. Cezar is the only true friend he has. Trust among humans...fauns...whatever... is a mistake.

He rolls a 5, another point and another shot for Everett.]

Your rule, Sir Vaughan.

[rollfordiplomacy]

[another swig of whiskey! Oh no, he's made the young man sullen. That does not a fun game make. So, his rule needs to do something to bring them back together, doesn't it?]

New rule, the loser may now ask the winner a personal question! If the winner does not wish to answer truthfully, he will forfeit his point. Do you protest?

[petcromancer]

[Hector parses the rule in his mind for a trick. There's none he can see, unless Everett means to use the information he gains against him. That would be thinking several steps ahead, which...is possible, but not likely. He thinks.]

Fine. [This whole game is making his head hurt.

He rolls, a 3.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Everett rolls and... luck is still on his side. A one. However, that shall open him up to question. Much more intriguing, what the game has turned into! More than just throwing dice and infuriating his poor guest with trickery.]

Another point if I can answer your question to truth! What might you ask of me?

[petcromancer]

[A cruel man would choose a question he knew his opponent would refuse, to force him to forfeit the point. Something about Everett's other conquests would likely fit the bill.

Hector doesn't want to be that man. He rubs the sleeping dog on his lap, thinking of how much simpler life would be if Hector were a dog.]

Why do you keep rats?

[He'll lose the game, playing like this, but he'd never had much chance of willing anyways.]

[rollfordiplomacy]

[Oh, Everett all but melts at that question, though. Like Hector, he adores his pets and the game seems to melt from his mind as he starts an enthused explanation. Everett loves to tell a story and when it's something about his people or his passions, he all but lights up like a clear night sky. He scoots to the edge of his seat just to lean in closer and chatter.]

They are the sigil of my family! The head of our family, Vaughan, is a Vampire and his manifestation is that of a rat. He adopted myself and my sister, so we raised such creatures all our lives. Clementine is bred from his original bloodline, that's why she's so clever. One of many I had trained from birth.

[his most precious rat that arrived with him, Clementine. The mention of her name makes her scamper over with attention, crawling up next to the dice bowl and sniffing at the air curiously. She's a much prettier rat than those he's taken off the street, clearly bred for aesthetics as well as cleverness.]

Does that answer satisfy, Hector? That makes it your turn.