[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]

[Hector takes liberal sips from his bottle in pursuit of their drunken goal.]

Why's that?

[There have been challenges for Hector so far, the biggest being the loss of his magic, but he hasn't been driven to drinking by anything other than the natural progression of his faun transformation. His life has improved being here.

But he know that there was a tragedy before he arrived, so maybe it hasn't been like that for everyone.]

[wylderrant]

Oh... had some run-ins with some natives who didn't appreciate mirrorbound. And my bonded left, so...

[ She lifts her bottle with a laugh. ]

Here I am! Doing my best to... I don't know... survive?

[ A bit ol' sip. She needs to be drunker. ]

[petcromancer]

[Hector recognizes and does not question the plain attempt Iramaat is making to avoid delving further into her losses.

He raises his own bottle.]

Then we drink to survival. The single unified goal in all the universe.

[Drink to sate their wild faun hungers, drunk to anesthetize the pains of living. It is not healthy, but it is what they have.]

[wylderrant]

Survival... seems a little dull, but I suppose it will have to do.

[ Honestly, Iramaat hasn't been living healthily in a while. What's some more alcohol on top of it? ]

I don't think I caught your name, you know.

[petcromancer]

Until we find something better to toast. [He agrees.}

Oh. Right. I'm Hector.

[He always forgets to introduce himself. Fuck social skills.]

[wylderrant]

Iramaat.

[ She's a little tipsy herself and it comes through in her voice. She leans over to rub shoulders with him, apparently rather keen on being friendly. ]

We could toast one another. We're two respectful fauns, aren't we?

[petcromancer]

[He raises his glass.]

Yes, by faun standards, we're upstanding.

[By any other metric, though, Hector would be lying, at least on his part.]

To our health and well-being.

[wylderrant]

And to companionship!

[ She clinks her bottle against his and then takes a very, very long drink. She needs this. ]

What was it I owed you again...?

[petcromancer]

You, Iramaat, owe me the act of sneaking a grape onto one of our compatriot's horns. Preferably without their notice, but I won't make you try again should you fail. It's less amusing if the target is forewarned.

[It's a silly wager, but if she needs to chase away those memories of darker times, how better?]

[wylderrant]

[ Iramaat clicks her tongue thoughtfully. She's probably a little too drunk for being that sneaky, but then again everyone else is drunk, too. ]

Hmm. Allow me to finish my drink before embarking on my quest...

[petcromancer]

There is no rush. Wait until the time...or the alcohol level...is right. That is what I plan to do.

[For his...dance. It's going to be terrible, and he needs either himself or the person he chooses as a partner to be incredibly drunk before it happens.]

[wylderrant]

We could dance together.

[ She suggests this more than a little drunkenly, apparently quite happy to put the idea forward. ]

But I don't know what you'd like to do.

[petcromancer]

Would that count? For the speci...specifications of the wager?

[Sorry, this clueless boy is caught up on the rules of the game, not on the fact that this nice lady is asking him to dance.]

[wylderrant]

Oh, I think it would.

[ She's been flirting up a storm with anyone and everyone all night, honestly. ]

And since I made the wager, I think I have final say.

[petcromancer]

[Hector nods. That makes sense. Who better to judge that she who suggested it in the first place?]

Alright. Once we finish our drinks, I'll call for some music.

[wylderrant]

I imagine that won't be a problem. Do you know any particular dances?

[ She's curious. ]

[petcromancer]

There was...some sort of folk dance...from the village I grew up in...

[He's done his best to discard all of the memories of that place, and the recollection he as of it is hazy at best.]

But I thought...I might just make it up as I go.

[Which, you know, makes for a great dance experience for his partner, right? It's not too late to back out.]

[wylderrant]

Making it up as we go sounds fine to me.

[ She takes another drink, laughing. ]

As long as we enjoy ourselves, who's to tell us to stop?

[petcromancer]

Well, our host might, if we get too disruptive.

[But Everett has been very indulgent of everyone's antics thus far, so it'll probably be fine.

He gets to the end of his bottle, so he sets it aside and stands up, a little shakily. He extends a hand to his partner.]

So, shall we?

[wylderrant]

Let's!

[ She sways to her feet (hooves) and offers him a hand with an exaggerated courtly bow. ]

May I have the honor?

[petcromancer]

[He bows back, a little clumsy for being unpracticed at it, and takes her hand.]

Of course.

[He shuffles his hooves, testing out the motions he sort of remembers. A step, then a turn, a step back, a clap. He's piecing together something that could maybe be interpreted as a dance.]

[wylderrant]

[ Iramaat doesn't seem to mind. She joins right in, doing her best to match his steps, however clumsy they might be. She's got a sense of grace about her, but this is drunken dancing - why worry? Just have fun.

She's laughing half-way through and she turns to give him a little twirl. ]

[petcromancer]

[Hector is spun around, and there's an almost comical clop clop clop of hooves as he steps and re-balances. He mimics Iramaat's motion to give her a twirl.]

This is nothing like the dance from home. [He's laughing? As he says it? Wow, he must be drunker than he thought. This is actually...kind of fun.]

[wylderrant]

[ Fun is the idea, yes. She leans back, then in, adjusting her steps to make sure they're both sort of staying in rhythm. It's not a proper dance by any stretch of the imgination. More a movement for the sake of movement set to music. But does that much matter? They're reveling in one another, drunk, and forgetting about their troubles. ]

It doesn't need to be!

[petcromancer]

[Hector snorts. Yeah. Fuck that old dance, and the village it came from, filled with people who'd hated him. They're making up their own version, and it doesn't have to be good.]

Hold on.

[With no more warning than that, he wraps an arm around her back. Ready for that dip, Iramaat?]