Bartender, Take My Keys [Mingle Log]

[hallelujahjunction]

Who: Dan and any other adults.
What: It’s been a real long week and you know what Rivendell needs? A rager.
Where: Rivendell
When: The a few days into Rivendell.
Warnings: Content warnings for recreational alcohol and drug use, adults acting rowdy.
Note: I’d like to limit this log to characters who are adults, unless you’d like to do a thread of them being escorted away by a concerned grown-up (see the prompt for teens below).
Bonus note: This is supposed to be an open mingle post, but if you want Dan in particular, just let me know in your comment or somewhere OOCly!

Dan, as a guest in Rivendell, checks in with their hosts first and gets their blessing to have a "little soirée" in the Hall of Fire, adjacent to the water. Rather than going on the network, where he might leave some of the teens feeling excluded, Dan makes the effort to go to each other adult in the squad and several adults staying in Rivendell and invite them personally. He frames it as a night for people to relax with some drink, games, music, and cultural exchange, and most of all, a night of no judgments so long as everyone’s having a good time. And then he gets hustling.

When the sun goes down, the party starts. Dan’s been furiously busy networking, begging favors, scrapping together materials and coordinating, all in preparation for a moment of pressure release for the squad that he hopes will lift spirits and pacify any troubled waters. He’s cobbled together a crew of musicians from various backgrounds, and they’ve been spending the morning rehearsing together for some energetic background music. The cooks have provided tasty, fatty snacks and several tuns of beer and wine of various quality. Dwarves, elves and men are milling around on foot or at tables where card games are being played for friendly stakes, and in spite of being hobbled by his injury, Dan’s flitting around greeting everybody, memorizing everyone’s names, and making sure that they’re comfortable as they leave the makeshift coat check.

Once there are enough people mingling and filtering in, Dan climbs up on the table, crutch and all, and pulls out an oliphant tusk horn and blows into it, commanding the attention of the room.

“Welcome!” Dan does his best to shout, which still requires the musicians in the corner to settle down, as Dan’s voice can hardly rise above speaking level. “I’ll make this brief, since I’m certain that y’all have plenty of fun to be had and folks to meet without me yammering. Some of us have just got here by the skin of our teeth a few days ago. Some of us been here a while, twisting ourselves into knots over the horrors of war and destruction. All of us deserve a chance to breathe.

“Before we all get too excited, I want everyone to take a moment to consider how kind it is of the people of Rivendell to lend us this space tonight, and to remind folks to take care of it while having fun. I’ll be helping with cleanup in the morning, so do me a favor and make it easy on me.” Dan gestures to his injured leg, playing up the woeful wounded doe look. “And look to your right, look to your left – your wish for tonight is that the folks next to you have as nice a time tonight as you do.”

He raises a goblet of wine, then takes a deep drink. “Alright, as you were! I want this roof raised by sunrise!”


I. Time to Lick Shots

One of Dan’s many go-to professions when he needs to make some quick cash is bartending, and as he spent yesterday familiarizing himself (perhaps too much) with the different offerings in Rivendell – elven wine and cider, dwarf beer and brandy, Gondorian ale, arak from Agrabah – he feels confident combining and serving to anyone who wants something more complex than a straight pint. It also gives him a chance to sit down and take some weight off his injured leg.

“What’ll it be?” Dan grins at any person who approaches his work station, if they catch him at his rotation after he brings a beer down to Crowley. “The arak’s got a high enough proof to rip the roof of your mouth off, just so you know.”

The bar is long and busy, and people can sit and chat with the people next to them, buy each other drinks, make stupid dares, and anything else that comes to mind.


II. Can’t Read My, Can’t Read My, No You Can’t Read My Poker Face

One of Dan’s other favorite go-to professions in the real world is dealing cards, and getting to know the different sorts of decks and games in this world has been a nice way to pass the time while he’s been off his feet. For the sake of simplicity, he’s restricted his actual dealing to poker and blackjack, as he knows some members of the squad may appreciate the familiarity, but he’s learned and is on his way to mastering everything else put in front of him.

“Want me to deal you in?” he asks to anyone who sits at his table, satisfied that every table in the room is hopping with lively, convivial games. “We can make it strip poker, if you want.”

Come join him, or join any of the many tables throwing down spice packets as their stakes in games of poker, Egyptian Rat Screw, mahjong, gin and more, and feel free to enjoy some of the pipeweed and hashish being passed around.


III. Get Rich Hittin’ the Pole

It’s not a stripper party until the stripper gets a pole, and Dan’s arranged for a tentpole to be set up in the room for people to swing on and play at. For the first part of the night, it’s just a curiosity – people take a single swing on it, or come and poke at it as if they’re afraid it’ll fall over.

But once the liquor gets flowing…


IV. You and Me and These Empty Cups

In short time, the concept of “beer pong” is introduced to the people of Middle Earth, and soon after that someone’s procured a bunch of goblets and set them up to start playing as teams. At this point, several of the people who came to the party early are somewhat impaired, and people are frequently tapping out and dragging members of the squad in to replace them. You can’t let the team down, can you?


V. You Better Karaoke

Dan’s a fantastic piano player, which means he’s an extremely mediocre clavichord player. That does not, however, stop him from blowing the Gondorian horn again to announce that he’s about to play an absolutely wretched version of Fiona Apple’s “Criminal”, backed up by some of the musicians he coaxed into providing the entertainment tonight. His voice sounds like a garage door in need of WD-40, and there’s truly no way to make a clavichord sound gentle, even backed by elves at the harp and flute and a Gondorian playing some sort of bongo. If Dan weren’t so clearly enjoying himself and so clearly in on the joke, it would be annoying, but most of the people in the crowd find the lack of self-consciousness and shame to be freeing.

“Taking requests! I know most songs and I sound better playing than singing!” Dan announces. “So if you want to spare your ears, you better line on up and take the mic!”


VI. Let’s Get a Little Wet

There’s a natural pool of more still water near the steps adjacent to the room, and at some point, one of the elves picks up another and tosses him in, starting a rush into the water. People splash each other, swim around, kick off their boots, and peel off their nice clothes to enjoy themselves. Several people slide down the fountains, whooping.

Dan’s coordinated with one of the Gondorians to check and make sure no one’s jumping into the river with too much liquor in their system, and everyone gets a very stern talking-to about not polluting their hosts’ water, but other than that, bombs away.


VII. SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS!

“Who wants to see me shoot an apple off this guy’s head?” Dan shouts, at least, as close as his quiet, awful voice comes to shouting. A gaggle of elves and men have gathered around him, a combination of awed and nervous; one young man, clearly trying to prove something about his mettle to his fellows, has an apple precariously balanced on top of his head about thirty yards away. Dan’s got his longbow with an arrow nocked, and he pulls the drawstring, eyes narrowed as he fixes on the target.

“How much have you had?” someone in the crowd asks Dan, to which he yells back “six shots and two beers—I could build a house after six shots and two beers. This is perfectly safe. Count me down.”

“I’m not scared at all,” the guy with the apple says, but visible tenses as the crowd shouts down three, two, one. The arrow zips through the air and splits the apple. The crowd cheers and some money exchanges hands.

“Alright, what’s the money on me doing that left-handed?” Dan asks, taking another shot of arak and tossing another apple to a volunteer.


VIII. I’ve Had a Little Bit Too Much

Of course, sometimes a little bit of fun can turn into too much fun, and any party planner has prepared for the eventuality that people may need places to recuperate and lounge on couches, and in the spirit of community, some of the more sober folks are helping the too-drunk folks up to bed or somewhere they can clean up. Some people even are falling asleep on the couches on top of each other in warm piles like living laundry.

Prior to his own “getting too drunk to function”, Dan’s doing his rounds of helping people find a place to recline on the couch, coaxing them to drink water and, if necessary, helping them tie their hair back.


IX. Club Can’t Even Handle You (for the teens)

There’s no real way to keep the teenagers from finding out that there’s a big party going on without them, so Dan’s anticipated that there may need to be some bouncing. He’s enlisted some men from Gondor and some of the dwarves to keep youngsters out, and they go around making sure that anyone who looks too youthful has someone to vouch for them.

“You got ID?” Dan jokes to anyone getting dragged towards the door if he catches them, giving the bouncers encouragement to be gentle.


OTHER

Got some party ideas not covered in the top-levels above? Go wild!

Comments

Dan Sagittarius | OTA

[hallelujahjunction]

I. Time to Lick Shots

One of Dan’s many go-to professions when he needs to make some quick cash is bartending, and as he spent yesterday familiarizing himself (perhaps too much) with the different offerings in Rivendell – elven wine, dwarf beer and brandy, Gondorian ale, arak from Agrabah – he feels confident combining and serving to anyone who wants something more complex than a straight pint. It also gives him a chance to sit down and take some weight off his injured leg.

“What’ll it be?” Dan grins at any person who approaches his work station, if they catch him at his rotation after he brings a beer down to Crowley. “The arak’s got a high enough proof to rip the roof of your mouth off, just so you know.”


II. Can’t Read My, Can’t Read My, No You Can’t Read My Poker Face

One of Dan’s other favorite go-to professions in the real world is dealing cards, and getting to know the different sorts of decks and games in this world has been a nice way to pass the time while he’s been off his feet. For the sake of simplicity, he’s restricted his actual dealing to poker and blackjack, as he knows some members of the squad may appreciate the familiarity, but he’s learned and is on his way to mastering everything else put in front of him.

“Want me to deal you in?” he asks to anyone who sits at his table, satisfied that every table in the room is hopping with lively, convivial games. “We can make it strip poker, if you want.”


V. You Better Karaoke

Dan’s a fantastic piano player, which means he’s an extremely mediocre clavichord player. That does not, however, stop him from blowing the Gondorian horn again to announce that he’s about to play an absolutely wretched version of Fiona Apple’s “Criminal", backed up by some of the musicians he coaxed into providing the entertainment tonight. His voice sounds like a garage door in need of WD-40, and there’s truly no way to make a clavichord sound gentle, even backed by elves at the harp and flute and a Gondorian playing some sort of bongo. If Dan weren’t so clearly enjoying himself and so clearly in on the joke, it would be annoying, but most of the people in the crowd find the lack of self-consciousness and shame to be freeing.

“Taking requests! I know most songs and I sound better playing than singing!” Dan announces. “So if you want to spare your ears, you better line on up!”


VII. SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS!

“Who wants to see me shoot an apple off this guy’s head?” Dan shouts, at least, as close as his quiet, awful voice comes to shouting. A gaggle of elves and men have gathered around him, a combination of awed and nervous; one young man, clearly trying to prove something about his mettle to his fellows, has an apple precariously balanced on top of his head about thirty yards away. Dan’s got his longbow with an arrow nocked, and he pulls the drawstring, eyes narrowed as he fixes on the target.

“How much have you had?” someone in the crowd asks Dan, to which he yells back “six shots—I could build a house after six shots. This is perfectly safe. Count me down.”

“I’m not scared at all,” the guy with the apple says, but visible tenses as the crowd shouts down three, two, one. The arrow zips through the air and splits the apple. The crowd cheers and some money exchanges hands.

“Alright, what’s the money on me doing that left-handed?” Dan asks, taking another shot of arak and tossing another apple to a volunteer.


VIII. I’ve Had a Little Bit Too Much

Of course, sometimes a little bit of fun can turn into too much fun, and any party planner has prepared for the eventuality that people may need places to recuperate and lounge on couches, and in the spirit of community, some of the more sober folks are helping the too-drunk folks up to bed or somewhere they can clean up. Some people even are falling asleep on the couches on top of each other in warm piles like living laundry.

Prior to his own “getting too drunk to function”, Dan’s doing his rounds of helping people find a place to recline on the couch, coaxing them to drink water and, if necessary, helping them tie their hair back.


IX. Club Can’t Even Handle You (for the teens)

There’s no real way to keep the teenagers from finding out that there’s a big party going on without them, so Dan’s anticipated that there may need to be some bouncing. He’s enlisted some men from Gondor to keep youngsters out, and they go around making sure that anyone who looks too youthful has someone to vouch for them.

“You got ID?” Dan jokes to anyone getting dragged towards the door if he catches them, giving the Gondorian men encouragement to be gentle.


OTHER

[Other ideas? Trust me, I’m down.]

I

[ahelpingpaw]

The bars and booze proveders are Filbo's turf for most of the party, yup. Seeing Dan there was something he didn't really expect, but hey, this is good. Once he approaches and gets asked the question, Filbo laughs, already pretty eager to try stuff.

"I dunno! Everything probably is different here, so...I dunno what there's around here. As long as it's stronger than water I'll take anything!"

It's not hard to see the enthusiasm of someone who does enjoy booze and the such. Not exactly a beginner over here, although he also probably doesn't go for the strongest spirits, anyway. Given he's the host of most of the parties he has attended he usually has a responsibility to keep things going, so he definitely doesn't go for stuff that'd knock him out after a single drink.

[hallelujahjunction]

"I'll start you off slow. If you don't feel nothing, we'll ramp it up a little." Dan grins, because he would absolutely just jump into the deep end and try the highest proof here, but he's a good host. He knows not to start knocking people down like drunken bowling pins in the first hour.

He taps some dwarf beer from a tun, then hands it to Filbo. "Didn't reckon you were much of a kindred spirit when it came to partying. You're just full of surprises, ain't you."

II

[ferengineer]

"I'm in, but I'd prefer the clothes stay on, thanks," Nog says, taking a seat as he waits to be dealt in.

"Don't worry about reading me in on the rules. I learned a while ago."

[hallelujahjunction]

"Texas Hold 'Em?"

Dan puts his feet up on the table and shuffles his deck without even looking, like he was born with cards in his hands. He deals out the first cards to Nog and some dwarves, who are just learning and are far less-dressed than Dan is.

"If you ain't getting naked, Nog, mind me asking what you gonna bet?"

IX

[slowmotionbuscrash]

Tommy’s putting up a valiant struggle against the two Gondorians that are dragging him out of the part. He’s out-numbered and out-sized, but kicking and thrashing to make this as miserable as possible for them. If they’d grabbed his legs from the start, they’d be better off, but now they have to stick with one arm each, because he would kick them in the face if they tried.

When Dan intervenes, Tommy manages to point at his hair with one finger. “Yeah, my ID’s right there. What the fuck, this isn’t their house to bounce. The Elves said we’re cool and get hospitality.”

[hallelujahjunction]

"Maybe it ain't, but it's my party, and they gave me bouncing powers."

Dan isn't angry so much as genuinely sympathetic that he has to kick Tommy out. He'd hate to get shut out of a party on account of his age, but the fact remains that not all of the activities here will be child-safe, and Tommy's already gone on the record for being a little superior when it comes to recreational drugs.

He stays out of range of Tommy's feet.

"But, you know, things are liable to get a little intense here, so we have to make sure that we ain't got any youths around whose innocence we might besmirch when the furry orgy starts."

II. Can't Read My Poker Face

[rambles_on]

Dean grins at the challenge. The way Dan's handling the cards is as flashy as it is skilled, and he can appreciate that.

"I'm in," he sits down, puts his drink on the table, and rubs his hands together.

"I'll give you a head start," he winks as he slips off his jacket. He doesn't actually know if he can beat Dan, but shooting the shit is half the fun (and an important part of the game).

As Dan shuffles and deals, he watches his hands carefully. If there are any shenanigans, he'll notice, but he won't call Dan out on it.

[hallelujahjunction]

"Texas hold 'em? Joker's wild?"

Dan looks quite smug, but it's less at the card games and more at the fact that so many people seem to be enjoying themselves at this party. He doesn't care how many times he has to lose some hands and get naked and dress back up again, so long as everyone's having fun.

He shuffles, flashy but not, at this moment, cheating. Dan's greatest means of cardsharking is how effectively he can count and follow cards and how effortlessly chatty he can be to cover it up; he suspects Dean would catch him hiding anything up his sleeve.

He may test that hypothesis later. He deals them each two cards and checks his hand, which shows him starting off with a pair of threes.

I. Time to Lick Shots

[greyerrant]

"Two of those harsh ones, then. One for me, one for Sarah."

Loken grins, though still even paler than normal from recent stabbings and healings and such. He's wearing the threads Dan had kindly improvised for him, and is obviously grateful, even though most people would probably still be lying around bemoaning their fate after being shanked by a Nazgul.

[hallelujahjunction]

"Pal, you look like one of the harsh ones might knock you down today." Dan's very glad to see Loken up and around, given the morgul blade's effects. If he hadn't been wrapped up in his own injuries and altercation with Price, he'd have done more for Loken than just sew and decorate some clothing.

He pours arak for Loken and sets one aside for Kerrigan, then downs a shot himself. He's a few shots in tonight, which means that he's both tipsy and numb at this point to the nearly pure alcohol going down his gullet. He hands Loken the shot glass.

"Is your squeeze coming with you, then?"

I. lick aLL the shots

[garmr]

"After all the slop they served up on the Rig, I've been waiting to try what you've got."

Hello, Dan! Have (1) jumbo-sized dude with good booze tolerance, merrily taking up a seat in front of him. Mercs had little else to do other than drink and make noise, so this is quite familiar for him, if a little bittersweet. He isn't quite as social as he was with the Hawks, but this was a more enjoyable crowd than most. That dour air about him has considerably lightened up.

"Could use something with a kick."

II

[dwitch]

In the real world, Dwight wasn't the type for strip poker. Normally he was too self conscious to even take his shirt off at the beach let alone play a game that was likely to leave him naked, or close to it. But he was still caught on the idea of this being some weirdly vivid dream, and he's had just enough of the hash going around to loosen him up some. And in a dream, if a hot guy with a voice like Tom Waits asks if you want to play strip poker, who says no to that?

He knew enough about poker, he might have a shot at not literally losing the shirt off his back.

Biting his lip as he thought it over, he drummed his hands nervously on the table before slapping it one last time and spitting out "Sure, deal me in," before he can think better of it.

Filbo Fiddlepie | Open to All

[ahelpingpaw]

Drink, mingle, get wild. Basics tenets of any party, in Filbo's opinion. Without them it just isn't one. As soon as he got told there was going to be a party he had already confirmed assistance.

If Dan wanted the roof to be raised by sunrise he sure was going to do his part in making it happen!

Time to Lick Shots

There's an issue when you're a creature like Filbo and all of a sudden you're in a faraway land, where everything is so new and different...and probably made of stuff he has never tried before. He's aware there's a chance stuff around here just isn't made for grumpuses. Maybe it has something his species is allergic to. Or maybe the alcohol is stronger than what his liver can handle. No way of knowing in advance.

But this is a party and he intends to have fun. There are healers both among the campers and in Rivendell. Anything that happens can be handled. There's one solution: don't drink alone.

"Hey, come over here! It's not a party without drinks!" Filbo encourages, inviting others to come to the bar. "I hope you can hold steady after having some of these!"

I’ve Had a Little Bit Too Much

Well! Good news, grumpuses can consume all sorts of booze from Rivendell. Great to have found out that! But of course, there comes a point where you have to take a breather. It'd be great to have some fresh air, but given his inebriated state and his general clumsiness Filbo judges he should stay away from balconies. Resting in the couches will have to do.

There he is, sitting to one of the couches, surrounded by people who are asleep. He isn't, though. There he is, reclined as much as the shape of his body allows, looking up at the ceiling until someone else comes.

"Cleaning up...is gonna be a nightmare! There weren't any half measures tonight, eh? I hope...it's been great...!"

He fully intends to stick around once everything is over to help clean up, really. Still, it's pretty obvious Filbo is exhausted. Good times, though! Rivendell truly is the best time he has had in a long while. Managing to look at whoever he's talking with, he says:

"It had...been a while since I was in a party! One I didn't host myself, at least, hyahaha! Ah...ha..." he puts a paw between his eyes, pressing a little. "You come to these often?"

Definitely the vivid image of someone who came to a party, had fun, and has no regrets, at least for now. Hangovers are future Filbo's problem, not his!

Time to Lick Shots

[dwitch]

That's...that's a muppet.

That's a muppet asking him to drink with them...

Yep, that synched it, this was definitely a dream.

Putting his hands up and giving the creature a wobbly unsure smile he starts to stutter out, "Uh, thanks but I don't...I don't really-" but cuts himself off.

Considering it for a moment, he thinks better of it.

"Actually, you know what? Screw it, sure, why not?" It's a dream, what could it hurt really? And who turns down drinking with a muppet? You just don't, right?

Taking a seat next to him at the bar, his nerves seem to settle back in again as he eyes the drinks cautiously.

"Uh...w-what are yo-we drinking exactly?" As long as it wasn't moonshine. Even in a dream he wasn't sure he could swallow that down again.

Alloran | OTA

[takenalive]

well one of us has to go home and change
Alloran arrives initially in Aria morph, an unremarkable and heavily tanned woman with a generally flattened look which is more on him than the morph. He's barefoot and very underdressed, only having pulled an ugly denim jacket on over the tights and camisole that come with the morph. Only... he's not, is he? Barefoot, yes, but as he frowns there's a sort of blurring effect and he's in something very much like the gown of an Elf maiden across the room, though the top is different. The blurring repeats; clothes he remembers from the Rig, eyeburning monstrosities that he'd seen on Earth, outfits he can see from here. Maybe even the clothes of whoever's looking at him, all with a perfect uncaring ignorance of if it's gendered.

It seems to have to have a top that's blue-ish and opens in front, and Alloran is a generally-naked furry alien who has limited interest in and grasp of the subject, so colors and patterns carry but the materials, the layering, all kinds of details aren't going to be right. It also can't seem to get footwear or gloves out of nothing, or change his hair. The hairtie can do butterfly clips though.

something something four eyes
For the moment Alloran's settled on high-waisted jeans, a midriff-baring tank top, and a soft and puffy vaguely varsity-type open jacket over it when he starts to fiddle with the Cat's Eye Glasses Of Cuteness. It takes a few false starts to actually get them on his face; he grimaces but manages and blinks rapidly peering through the lenses, looking back and forth and activating them without considering it first.

He realizes what he's done and hastily lowers his gaze, but if you come talk to him he'll glance up for a moment, and whoever gets even a glance into Aria's brown eyes is derailed by the effect of the glasses. Even if he wouldn't usually strike someone as such, Alloran is... obviously helpless? and cute? Really cute. In a 'cat' way, probably.

"My mistake," he says, mumbling a bit. Speaking with a human mouth is a skill and he's neglected to keep it up. "I intended... Most likely off such a brief contact the effect will wane rapidly."

it's about a girl
Eventually Alloran ducks out and when he returns he's back to his blue alien centaur self and makes a single addition to karaoke. Sort of. People lower their instruments and he steps forwards, closing his main eyes, spreading his hands with his black palms turned upwards. Something invisible starts to sort of shimmer and throb in the air, in the back of the throat and the cavity of the chest, almost the way the body responds to loud music too deep to hear properly. It makes skin want to tighten into gooseflesh. It's not directional like vocal sound, but there's still a sense of the Andalite being surrounded by an aura of sorts.

This is input that most humans and others aren't really wired to or trained to process, though it certainly captures the attention of a lot of elves. Emotions start coming through - tenderness and wonder, nostalgia, frustration, all worn smooth-edged. Sensations too, just odd echoes of long grass and hot sun through trees, and movement, and is that? sweetness? in the foot? In some ways it's like hearing acapella music sung in a language you don't understand. A lot of information is lost on the listener but it is clearly something complex. And kinda tonally dissonant with the rest of the party, thanks, Alloran.

Bunnymund

[bringinghopewithme]

V. You Better Karaoke (OTA)

Bunny only attends about the first forty five minutes of the party, long enough to sip some fancy Elvish spring water and get a little conversation in with some of the dwarves and men and visiting elves who came intrigued by the prospect of a raucous party. He and Dan enjoy a lot of shared activities, but raucous parties are firmly in Dan's realm of interest, and quick to get outside his.

He does stick around long enough to stifle his laughter through Dan's butchering of Criminal, longer still to make sure someone else is picking up the metaphorical microphone, and a little bit longer than that. The elves are incredibly gifted musicians - it's truly spectacular what someone with talent and all the immortal time in the world to train and hone that talent can do. In that vein, Bunny can take a moment to make his late mother proud.

He takes a little moment to discuss with the performers and Dan, building up the melody and accompaniment before he starts his rendition of one of the many songs he's learned while spending time with Dan. He has a remarkably polished voice for stage performance, as if he's received training for it - but then, nobody's ever asked him if he has. He has fun pushing the simple melody through new harmonies, across the length of his range, and if there was any doubt that he picked this song for an audience of one, it doesn't last long as he periodically casts his glance to Dan.

Bunny doesn't stick around for too many more performances, as the party grows too loud for his liking, but at least a few followers-up get a few rounds of applause from him.

VIII. I’ve Had a Little Bit Too Much (closed to Dan)

At the break of dawn, after a relaxing night of conversation with fellow immortals and sleep far away from the noise, Bunny comes to collect.

Dan, too, eventually needs to be helped somewhere to rest, after all.

[hallelujahjunction]

It's been a hard few weeks. Dan can't deny that. They've been injured, stressed, hungry, cold, scared and subject to their worst memories lurching up out of the darkness, and Dan can't pretend that he's been the best version of himself throughout. And as he's in a marriage now, he can't pretend that he's the only one who faces the fallout when he isn't his most put-together, his most sober, his most responsible, his quickest to set boundaries and slowest to indulge impulses. His and Bunny's marriage hasn't been strained since they got here, not at all, but it has had to carry some of the burdens of the road.

And yet here they are, together, every other burden made lighter for the fact that they can rely on each other. Universes bent, dimensions had holes punched into them to lead the two of them together in a happy accident. Dan could be here struggling through the cold and painful all on his own, and instead he's sitting on the clavichord bench, adding tasteful flourishes into the negative spaces around Bunny's voice, feeling his throat tighten and eyes sting with the fact of how in love he is.

How loved and how in love. What a perfect combination those two things are, like a key and a lock, like a river and its bed.

He doesn't bother to hide how much he adores Bunny every time Bunny glances over at him. He doesn't bother to hide it ever, unless there's some external threat like the Jorg, but it's particularly evident with his expression here and the barely-stifled tears, the relief of the fact that they're both here, in spite of everything that could have kept them apart, up to and including Dan's shoddy mental health and up to and including Bunny's immortality, the fact that someday he's certain to outlive Dan and the fact that he chooses that grief without reservation.

I have seen no other who compares with you. He hasn't, and he knows Bunny hasn't. Bunny saw Dan's gentleness and patience where most dismissed Dan entirely, and Dan saw someone worth committing to, and that makes them singular in each others' universes. Dan thinks of this love, sometimes, as like exiting the dark into a sunny day; it took him so long for his eyes to adjust, and it was painful until they did, but now the sky is blue and the world lush and colorful in daylight.

Dan hops off the clavichord after Bunny's finished and hobbles over to give Bunny a farewell kiss, knowing exactly how long his husband will tolerate the noise and rowdiness, and then he gets back to the festivities.

He's up until dawn, although the last half hour has tipped from actual partying into being half-conscious and stupid on one of the couches, arms wrapped around a cushion. There's confetti in his hair and a drink someone spilled down the back of his shirt. Some people are still sleeping or canoodling in corners, but the party's very much over, and cleanup will have to happen in a few hours.

"Hey, honey," Dan murmurs, keen to the silhouette Bunny cuts against the breaking light. He tries to sit up and the room wobbles, so he lays back down.

Dean Winchester | OTA

[rambles_on]

Dean is letting loose. He's spent the past few years crashing college parties and it shows. He's drinking and flirting with anyone who'll listen. Sure, he can be an annoying asshole, but he's also a people person who knows how to work a room. He's managed to charm his way into teaching a group of Elves a drinking game he is absolutely making up on the spot, but he's getting just as drunk as they are so there's no hard feelings.

Anywhere there's drinks and lively conversation, chances are you'll find Dean Winchester (unless he's in the corner chatting someone up).

I. Ace Of Spades
Dean's been playing card games in bars since he was a kid and he doesn't feel an inch of guilt for hustling the Elves out of their fine clothes. So far he's only lost his jacket while everyone else is at least half naked (though which half depends on the person).

He's also an unrepentant card shark. He moves quickly and confidently so it's tough for anyone who's not extremely observant or extremely experienced to notice his sleight-of-hand.

II. Pour Some Sugar On Me

It takes Dean a while to notice the strip pole, but once he does it sticks out in the corner of his vision. It's only once he's gotten a few more drinks in that he feels comfortable walking up to it.

"How hard can it be?" he says to the person next to him. He's seen the 'Girls, Girls, Girls' music video plenty of times. He could totally pull it off. (He's also seen Showgirls, but he's not about to admit that out loud.)

III. Open Prompt

Throw whatever or whoever at Dean! He's here to party!

II.

[hallelujahjunction]

Dan's on the sidelines with the stripper pole, torn between the fact that his injury isn't fully healed with the desire to show off one of those skills that he excels at. Plenty know that he's stripped for money in his life, but few realize how incredibly good at it Dan is. Dan could, if he could stick to it long enough, pay for rent and groceries stripping and throw some extra into a savings account.

He was not expecting to see Dean Winchester decide to take a swing at the pole, and Dan sits up at his table immediately to watch how Dean takes to the task. He's had his suspicions about Dean's hidden side, about the part that Dean refuses to admit exists, that likes to caretake and be tender, that longs to be the center of someone's admiration instead of the admirer for once, but he didn't realize this was a context that Dean might dabble with it in.

He chuckles as he watches Dean give it a whirl; the pole is a harsher mistress than she looks.

"If you were a real stripper, you'd make about twenty dollars tonight!" Dan heckles with a joyful smile. "Need some pointers?"

III

[ahelpingpaw]

"It's...you! The strange guy!"

There's something very rich about a muppet guy walking forward and calling you strange without any hint of irony in the slightest.

It's not hard to tell Filbo had a lot of drinks by now. He seems far less inhibited -- it's not like he had been trying to avoid Dean all along, but he also wasn't exactly high in the list of priorities. Right now, though, in the middle of a party, he saw, recognized Dean, and instead of minding his own business he thought now was a grand time to go and talk to him.

So there he comes, wide smile and clearly enjoying himself in this party.

"Had a drink already? Being here needs you to have at least a dozen drinks, you know!"

I. Ace Of Spades

[greyerrant]

A large figure looms over the card game, watching it carefully for a while before speaking in a deep voice, addressing Dean. "I am unfamiliar with this game you are playing. It has some resemblance to things I have seen soldiers play, but I have never had such time for such things myself."

Loken looks down, a pale figure dressed in some elf clothes that look sewn together to accommodate the massive bulk of the posthuman warrior.

III

[just_ace]

Ace is REALLY happy to be somewhere nice and not worrying about the next attack. A party is exactly what everyone needs and he is so grateful to Dan for putting one together. So why can't he get out of his own head?

Everyone has been so on edge and he hasn't been able to stop playing the game since he got here. He's made some connections, but everyone he thought might become a friend has kept him at arms length. That's understandable but since he doesn't want to endlessly annoy Stacia he is just a bit lonely. Its a familiar feeling but it doesn't usually last.

He resolves to throw himself in, have a good time and generally make a nuisance of himself.

He sees Dean through the crowd, looking uncharacteristically sociable. Ah good! Someone to annoy! Ace walks over and flashes a winning smile.

"Hey Bud!"

II

[dwitch]

By this point in the night Dwight is slightly buzzed, but more sober than most. Sober enough for the pole to still seem like a terrible idea, both socially and logistically. At least for him. He wasn't above watching other people take a shot at it, though he'd yet to catch anyone doing much more than jokingly take a single swing around it.

Sipping at a mug of water that he's trying to pass it off as vodka (despite not knowing whether or not they're even serving vodka), he nearly chokes on it when the guy next to him pipes up with a kind of unearned drunk confidence that almost never leads to anything good.

"I think that depends how stable the pole is." He half-jokes with a tone that asks 'Am I about to watch you eat shit?', "Have you ever actually done anything like this before?"

Dwight Fairfield | OTA

[dwitch]

Last time he'd been dropped into this world it had been brief enough for Dwight to brush it off as a dream. There had been that weird ren-fair, it was attacked, he didn't see much before he ran, darting into the murky dust and smoke...or maybe it was fog. The screaming and fighting faded away, he felt the lash of something, a weapon, or claw, and then he unceremoniously woke up back in a trial. Unscathed, back in his ratty old office clothes, like none of it had happened.

What the hell else could it have been other than a dream?

So when he finds himself plopped back here in the middle of an elf village, that looks like that one from that movie about the ring, it's not hard to believe he's just having another weirdly vivid dream.

He's quick to take the offer of clean clothes and a bath, and when he's told about a party it doesn't take much convincing to get him to go. Who turns down having a party with elves? Might as well make the most of this dream while it lasts.

1 ~Can’t Read My, Can’t Read My, No You Can’t Read My Poker Face~

Apparently even in his dreams drinks are a no-go for Dwight nowadays, which significantly cut down on some of the fun he can have at a party like this, but cards are still on the table. And so are smokes. Not the kind of thing he indulged in much in the real world but he could use something to help him relax and it's a dream, so why the fuck not try the fantasy weed going around the table?

He's not good at cards, even with all the advice Ace had given them all around the campfire, and he's even worse at it when he's slightly high. No poker face on this one. But he keeps to tables with low stakes and can be caught mostly getting in on strip poker and games where they play to keep their seat.

Eventually he's got his own table going and is trying to invite people in on a game.

"Want in? I'm trying to teach the dwarfs how to play Go Fish."

2 ~Get Rich Hittin’ the Pole~

Well. That sure ain't no maypole.

He'd kind of assumed that's what it was at a glance. It felt like that fit the theme of things. But up closer...no...no that was definitely a makeshift stripper pole.

Even for a dream, a stripper pole in the middle of the elf party is a bit weird.

When he thinks no one else is really paying attention to it, he can't help being one of those to go up and poke it, half expecting it to shift or give under the light shove.

3 ~I’ve Had a Little Bit Too Much~

Dwight had never been big on partying in life. Then again, he'd rarely been invited to parties. All the more reason to live it up in this dream while he could. He also just didn't like the idea of leaving, of ending up alone and risking dropping out of the dream again.

So he stays late into the night, eventually just crashing on one of the couches.

When someone tries to rouse him to help him to bed he grumbles and tries to swat them away.

"Mhn...Dwight's not home right now, leave a message."

4 ~Open prompt~

Hit me with whatever!