wildestlogs | Turn All The Lights On

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Turn All The Lights On

Who: Elle and any other teens who want to join!
What: The adults are busy partying, so who's going to stop the teens from doing the same?
Where:Rivendell
When: The fourth night in Rivendell
Warnings/Notes: Underage drinking, recreational alcohol use, teens acting rowdy

Elle walks into Dan's party, hangs around for a little bit, then walks back out. To say that it's not really her scene is an understatement. While she's doing her awkward wallflower act, she does notice a few of the other teens get escorted out of the area. Which gives her an idea...

Most of the adults are here and they've already taken care of getting booze... who's to stop her from throwing her own party?

The first thing she does is go to Caroline, who seems to be scarily good at organizing things. Together (while roping in any of the other kids they find along the way) they find a suitable place, set up the area, ask Bumblebee to DJ, and acquire booze & snacks. After that, it's just a matter of tracking everyone else down and letting them know.

I. Bring the booze

Elle managed to smuggle a couple of crates of booze from the other party, so they're all set up drink-wise. She will be keeping an eye on the alcohol to make sure that the younger kids don't have too much.

II. I ain't got nothin' to lose

Strip poker, why not? Elle isn't quite sure how it got started, if it was one of them or one of the teen Elves that got invited, but someone started taking clothes off when they lost a hand and it's all just devolving from there.

III. Put your hands up if you're going hard

Dancing, obviously. They actually have someone blasting music, so it would be shameful if they didn't dance. The teens and the Elves are teaching each other moves, and there is definitely a dance circle at one point.

IV. This must be her song

Karaoke? Karaoke. Who cares if you're any good, it's time to belt whatever song you think you can do best (or get people to sing along with so they can't hear you). There's no microphone and Bumblebee only knows songs from the 80s and earlier, but it's still a damn good time.

OTHER

Anything people feel like doing, go for it!

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Elle isn't drunk either, but she's definitely loosened up significantly from her usual somewhat-uptight self. When she hears Cammie complaining about tracking her age she knows she has to get in on this conversation, because Elle has some complaints.

"I'd say fuck it and go with whatever's more convenient at the time. That's what I do, at least. Like, am I 18? Am I 19? Fuck... am I two years old?" she turns to Cammie, horrified. "Cammie. Am I two?"

Okay. Maybe Elle's a little more drunk than she thought.

The sudden horror in the question startles a snort laugh out of Cammie that almost has her spitting a sip of her drink out, only to end in her almost choking instead before she clears her throat.

"Well you sure don't look two. I dinnae think you can be two? You got like half a foot on me, that'd be a real big—" okay, absolutely not the point, get back on track, brain, "why'd you— why two?"

"That's when I was," she waggles her fingers to demonstrate magical fucker-y "reborn."

She stops waggling but forgets to put her hand down. "I guess three, because there's that year I'm not sure if I should count. I didn't age, and it didn't really happen, but also it did because I'm a full-fledged cat so," she shrugs.

It's a really a pain in the ass to keep track of. She can't imagine what it's like for Isaac with all that alternate reality shit in his head. (Well, she spends a not insignificant portion of time in his head, so she can, but that's not the point.)

"Re— Reborn. Reborn? Wow, okay, that sounds bloody wild. An' then a freaky not-year on top of that... oh, god, maybe you are two. Or three. Or— or something. Fully grown two-three year old. What the fuck. "

She plants her elbows on the surface in front of her, still nursing her drink in both hands and sort of talking around the rim of it after taking a sip.

"An' I thought I had it complicated with tryna cover an extra six months that shouldnae exist..." A beat. Her ears tilt sideways. "...oh, man, Weller called us uploadin' for the first time another birthday, do I count that...? Is every time we upload a new us 'cause we're all just bein' copied back and forth or... or..."

That quickly descends into incomprehensible mumbling into her cup.

"I mean. That depends on whether what you consider to be "you"," complete with air quotes "your body or your mind? Like, where does my body go when I go into the spirit realm? I no longer have a physical form, is my body destroyed? Time passes in the Material Realm, but not at the same rate. People have spent years there then popped out and it was only days, or were only there for days and popped out and it had been years. But I'm part spirit, so I guess my Umbral form is still me in a different way than your internet-sona is you."

Elle has a problem with tangents and rambling when she's sober, and she's definitely not sober anymore.

"It's like that philosophical question," Elle loves debating philosophical questions.

"If you have a teleporter that works by copying people, destroying the original, and forming the copy at a different location and the teleporter malfunctions and fails to destroy the original, which is the "real"," more air quotes "person?"

You wouldn't be able to tell that she's drunk by looking at her other than a slight flush to her cheeks. Hell, her speech isn't all that different from usual. The main difference is that she isn't really taking breaths when she speaks, as if she's trying to get it all out of her head at once.

"Ye gods, magic-y an' spirt-y stuff sounds so complicated when it's actually real. Way to make time even more fake. Spirit-y you does sounds like it's its whole own— category, but... I think— I think my mind's me? Not body? I feel like me in my Holon; couldnae even handle being so— so propor— proport... too tall, had to make it shorter to fit."

Even not all the way to what she'd call drunk, some word choices are apparently just beyond her. 'Proportionally', she was proportionally too tall as her Holon before she shortened its legs.

"No, aye, mind is 'us', gotta be. My one teammate s'not even got a meatspace body anymore. He's all just— his mind, but code. In the robot. An' he was a copy, too, like—" Now it's Cammie's turn to have a look of sudden horror. "Oh, wow, I think we are the teleporter question. Chase was a bloody copy that was never meant to be used until the version of him uploaded was kidnapped. An' then the Union copied him sum'more! There were hundreds of him... what the fuuuuck..."

"It's so complicated, Cammie. It's, like, all the esoteric bullshit of religion and cosmology, except it's also real and science."

The rules change depending on an unending amount of factors and Elle has found that the approach of 'just try not to fuck up terribly' works pretty well. For her, at least.

"That's so many of one dude. What the fuck."

"Who the fuck decided magic had to be— all that? ...besides like, the universe, I guess. Maybe I should be glad all we got back home is the video game kind, at least that mostly makes sense. An' has like... menus."

Will she ever not relate things to video games? All signs point to no.

"It's so bloody many! We've been fightin' them off for months it's freakin' insane! They just don't stop comin'! It's ridiculous. Terrifyin', dinnae get me wrong, but ridiculous. My life's a grimdark mecha anime, I swear to fuck."

She's definitely got just enough alcohol in her to be more casual about that than actually grim, rather than so much that she's diving headfirst into the grim. She actually laughs, because seriously, what is her life? That doesn't even get into how they're drinking booze in Rivendell at a stop on some weird magical quest!

"Spirits," Elle says by way of explanation. "And God. Or Gods? Depends on who you ask, really. And that's not even getting into actual Mages, which enact will to alter reality? Or something? It's very abstract and honestly, I'd take spiritual bullshit any day of the week."

The universe is a very confusing place and Elle has many questions, comments, concerns, and complaints to file.

"Oh god, I know. Mine's like some 90s edgelord bullshit. It's the worst."

Elle is also tipsy enough to make light of the terrible reality she comes from, which is nice.

"That's a lot of different people who might decide how magic works. Too many, quite frankly. Multiple seems like a recipe for like, some kinda disaster."

Magic infighting? General chaos? The options seem like they'd be endless.

"Also, also, no one ever tells you how insane it is to end up livin' out somethin' you watched or read as a wee child. Seriously, no one in any mecha show I watched lived in a world where mecha anime existed before the real mecha did! It's so— weird. Absolutely bonkers, really."

"Dude. And that's not even magic magic. There's mages and shit who deal with a whole different set of bullshit, and that all interacts with our bullshit in various ways. It's so complicated."

Elle will never understand how Isaac keeps the Gaian shit and the Mage shit straight in his head. As convenient as his special Cat Magic(TM) can be, she doesn't mind not being able to do it most of the time.

"I know. Like, saw the Twilight movies. Werewolves are supposed to be sexy and culturally appropriative, and unfortunately the reality only got half of that. And not even the good half."

"I'm officially thankful my life's basically sci-fi with no fuckin' magic, I cannae imagine ever keeping any of that straight. I'd lose my marbles." A beat. "...I say as if we're not, like, currently trapped in a confusing magical amal— amalgam? Is that the— yeah, magical amalgam world. Say that ten times fast."

She could not say that ten times fast right now. At all.

That description gets a snort laugh out of her, though. "We got like, all the fun mecha bits, 'cause I'm a fuckin' amazin' engineer thank you very much an' I made them all cool as shite second I got the chance, but christ if the other stuff doesn't creep up on you. It's all fun an' games 'til you lose your head. Like. Literally. Don't recommend that one."

Is her being casual about that the alcohol or the fact that, honestly, the time she got decapitated is borderline nostalgic for how simple stuff was back then? Why not both.

"Cammie. You're so cool."

And Elle means it. She's a teen and a genius engineer and that's awesome.

"Decapitation is not fun," she scrunches up her nose in a expression that can only be described as "gross". She only experienced it once-- maybe twice? Her head is a little fuzzy and warm so it's hard to remember right now. "Please keep your head where it is."

Cammie gives a 'pffffft' sound and waves it off, but she's beaming anyway. This is definitely a girl who didn't get called cool for anything until her team back home, and none of her team are people her age.

"Believe me I am tryin', the motherfucker tried to get it again a couple times but I designed the head armour to sort of..." she mimes vaguely, "slip off if grabbed, now. Bingo bango bongo, no more decapitation." Then, a beat. "Wait. Waitwaitwait. D'you— like, not fun like, you too? What the fuuuuck."

Elle nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah. And it sucks. I think mine was cleaner than yours, more--" she draws her finger across he throat "--and less," she mimes pulling her head up.

All of that feels far enough away that it doesn't hurt to talk about.

Cammie's nose wrinkles rather comically, honestly. "Thaaaat depends on the definition of clean, I think, 'cause not sure you can get much literally cleaner than a robot. No mess. Though that does sound way quicker, the yanking was not nice..."

Totally normal party chatter!

"Christ, what are the odds." Beat, snort laugh. "Actually probably way higher than they should be here, considerin' where we all get yanked from. All our," she makes vague jazz-handy gestures, "dramatic lives."

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Turn All The Lights On

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