westfallcorndog | Happy Birthday, Viatorus!

Entry tags:

amelia,
viatorus

Happy Birthday, Viatorus!

Invitations to this party have been written in neatly legible, semi-calligraphic font, hand-crafted with care and talent by Amelia Ronsam. Harrowheart has asked that she create a few more than necessary on the off-chance anyone lost theirs and was liberal in handing them out.

The room mentioned on the card is easy to find with a map of the aquarium: In the Earth wing, past a long series of exhibits, and through a glass hallway over which the water rests and the fish are free to swim. The corridor ends in a dome-shaped room spacious enough for a party of a few dozen.

The meeting space, like the hallway, is composed entirely of glass walls around which a vibrant array of Earth’s tropical fish drift through bright blue waters. Now and then they dart in odd directions, flashing their gem-like scales as their school is disturbed by the passing of a sea turtle or the flowing wings of a manta ray. Far, far in the distance are the silhouettes of whales that, on rare occasion, shadow the dome as they pass between the party and the far-off source of light above the water. Simpler creatures crawl through the coral just on the other side of the glass: crabs and minnows tease at algae, grinning eels poke shyly from their dark crevices, and anemones dance with the motion of the flowing seawater. The only thing to break the immersion of the scene are the mermaid attendants, glimpses of whom can be caught as they feed the fish while trying their best to stay professionally unnoticed.

Outside the glass is the beauty, but inside is the party! There are bubbly balloon letters hung from the ceiling reading HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Green streamers dangle from the ceiling like kelp, and someone's even set up a motorized shark balloon to swim through the air. Set up against one rounded wall are two buffet tables of food laid out. Stacks of cheese-stuffed fried peppers, fried chicken, grilled corn cobs, a kind of savory pork stew, something resembling black crab legs that’s been labeled ‘Duskwood Land Crab,’ a fruit and vegetable platter, a single pizza for the guests to fight over, and for the English Birthday Boy, cucumber sandwiches. Drinks are a bowl of punch and a keg of water. Looks like this aquarium party is a dry one. The sweets are cookies and hard candies laid atop a pile of pink candy floss. Then, of course, there is the cake: One large sheet cake of marbled chocolate and vanilla iced with buttercream frosting. On top there rests a little gingerbread man with black icing hair sleeping soundly atop a little frosted bed, a red smile on his face. Four tall candles make the posts of the bed. An unsteady hand has piped along the side ‘Happy Birthday Viatorus!’

Two people beat the crowd to enjoy this quiet afternoon retreat. Harrowheart, who sits at one of the tables in the middle and watches the passing of the fish, is dressed for the tropics. He’s bought himself a Hawaiian shirt to go over a pink tank with a pair of palm trees on the front, and of course he’s wearing his usual cargo shorts and tan work boots. ~~Any rumors of pajama dress code were greatly exaggerated.~~ With him is Amelia, whose garb for the evening is much more demure than her usual. The first sign is her lack of ~~visible~~ weapons. The second is the combination of dark navy jeans and black blouse. Her hair is tied back in a simple braid and the hair pin she's always been so fond of is nowhere to be seen.

((If you'd like to greet the host and/or hostess or remark on your character's entry, feel free to tag this post. Otherwise, try the Gift-Giving or Free Mingle subsections: Viatorus will accept gifts and well-wishings in the Gift-Giving section, and threadhopping will be with OOC permission. Free Mingle will be a threadhopping-encouraged area for party-goers to interact with each other. Meet new characters, talk about fish, fight about who gets to eat the pizza.))

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A rare Tropical Draugr appears in their midst! Felix backs up a step, hands tensing instinctively… aaaand nobody else is reacting.

The polite veneer is frozen onto his face out of sheer shock, but there’s a definite question in the look he shoots Jim. He knows the captain isn’t magically-inclined but- he does realize what this is? What’s… hugging him?!

He doesn’t have time to decide whether to bristle. Quite before he knows it he’s being offered a lifeless hand. A… severed, floating corpse hand. Felix realizes he’s staring.

“Er… no.” The Imperial’s speechcraft seems to have deserted him. Not that Harrow could be blamed for the mistake anyway; Felix has finally acquired another suit of Earth-style clothes, but they’re still based off the style of Jim’s uniform originally. “Tamriel.”

"Harrow, good to see ya, not that I could miss you in those digs." Jim laughs and hugs Harrow back before releasing him and gesturing toward Felix. "Harrow, this is Felix Caelus. One of the many Tamriel natives around the Nexus. Felix, this is Harrowheart, an undead knight from...Azeroth, right?"

Who says Jim doesn't pay attention.

"And apparently a good friend of the guest of honor. Viatorus keeps good company, I see."

"Tamriel," Harrow repeats as he eyes Felix. He's willing to ignore the unmistakable unease Felix is experiencing; after all, he's used to that sort of reaction. "Looks like Tamriel makes handsome guys. I can see why Jim hangs around with you." Harrow winks at Felix and fingerguns with one floating hand. Casually hitting on (unbeknownst to him, taken) dudes at his friend's birthday party, no biggie.

Then he nods to Jim and says, "Azeroth, right. It's a little shithole, but it's my little shithole. Thinkin' about stayin' here in the Nexus full time, though. Gonna have to get a real job if I do. Blew all my money rentin' this room for V. I think he likes it, though. Kid said he likes the ocean. How 'bout you two? Opinions on the setup? What's it like bein' underwater, spaceman?"

Edited 2016-03-08 22:12 (UTC)

Being eyed by a disturbing undead corpse is something he can deal with. That's normal. Or he thinks it is, right up to the point where he realizes what kind of eyeballing that is and what.

"What?" It's a- he's- how could he even-? And Jim knows?

This might take a while. He's going to miss the chance to geek out over all the curious fish while he tries to wrap his head around this.

"Not even Harrow. Felix is one of the lucky ones. I've seen their bandits and wow. Would not touch with a ten foot pole levels of ick."

Of course Jim knows. The first friend Jim made in the Nexus was Jesse, an undead cowboy. Besides, it's rather hard to miss. Worry not Felix, Jim will protect you from floating gropes or whatever it is he's squeamish of.

"I really like it." Jim's all smiles again. "I especially like the part where there's a field and several inches of plexi between me and any potential Jim Eating Monsters they keep locked up in here."

"You say that like nobody inside this bubble would wanna eat you, Jim." Harrow laughs at his own joke and nods his head in Felix's direction like he expects him to laugh along. This guy knows what he's talkin' 'bout, right? ',B]

Then he motions with a wave of a ghostly hand between the two and asks Felix specifically, "So Jim's been to your world? That's cool! Y'all business partners or what?"

Felix probably does. And he's probably regaining some control of his mouth. But he's still not laughing. Just giving Harrowheart a look of deep skepticism.

After all, he should know. Harrow really shouldn't, in his opinion.

It takes a little effort still to string words into a sentence, but defense mechanisms kick in. Evasion tactics have priority. Confirm nothing, deny nothing. He smiles thinly. "We work together sometimes. I, ah... wouldn't call it business so much as exploration."

Exploration. So that's what they're calling it now. Jim has got to remember that next time he's 'working' with Felix, clearly.

Even children want to punch you when you smile like that, Kirk. Luckily it is a short lived smile. He isn't here to tease Felix mercilessly. He can't help it if the Imperial is adorable when he's possessive.

"And before you ask, no, he isn't joining Starfleet. So don't get too crushed." Jim's already gonna have to make this up to Felix, he doesn't need Harrow scowling over this too. "He's a conjurer, and I figured hey, who better to bring along to a magi's birthday shindig, right?"

"Exploration! Shoot, makes sense. That's what you do after all, Jim." Harrow smiles as he says that, but not in the sly and knowing way Jim does. The play on words goes completely over his head, as does any underlying jealousy from Felix, whose strange body language is really only a part of the growing quilt that is his apparent weirdness. He's taking all of this at face value and happy for the conversation.

But then Jim says something he definitely does understand. "A conjurer!" he exclaims, eyebrows raised, still smiling. This is interesting, relevant information! He crosses his arms over his chest and his fingers intertwine as his hands bob lazily before him.

"What kinda conjuration do you do, Felix? Lotta folks define it in a lotta different ways in the Nexus." The glow of his eyes is lost slightly in the light that filters through the water and tints the whole party softly blue, but the subtle movements of his eyelids are enough to suggest he's trying to guess at what kind of answer Felix might have just from the look of him. He must not be able to figure it out, though, and rather than guess he returns to his smiles and motions to himself.

"I do ice magic," he says with a proud nod. Never mind the necromancy. That's not exactly birthday conversation material, and the last time he brought it up around Jim it went poorly to say the least.

"Oh, there's no-one more talented at it than the good captain." Look, clearly someone has to look out for Jim against the draugr with designs on his body. Felix isn't even sure how that works and he doesn't want to find out.

Any concerns he has about Jim's chumminess with said draugr are secondary. And besides that's just weird. Also it means he has to try and pretend to be civil too.

At least he knows where he's standing when the topic is conjuration. All right. This is a social occasion where an undead warrior is co-hosting. Keep your cool, Caelus. He's back in the game now.

"Oh?" He shrugs a little. "In Tamriel, conjuration is the art of piercing the bounds between different planes. Summonings, soul bindings and so on." He's leaving out the necromancy as well, because either it doesn't need saying or he'd just prefer not to.

"The undead in Skyrim often use ice spells, as well," he notes. "I'm afraid I never got the knack of most elemental magic."

"He's a damn good healer though. And he can summon all kinds of stuff." It is both a blessing and a curse to have Jim be your biggest fan, Felix. On the plus side, Jim will talk you up. On the negative side, Jim has no idea about any kind of magic.

None.

He needs to read up on the subject, clearly. And he's grateful that necromancy is left out of this conversation. Good job Harrow. Jim's grinning your way now.

"See, you two have stuff in common. I knew this was a rad idea. Thanks for letting me bring someone. I knew you'd hit it off." For some reason Felix isn't seeming too keen on Harrowheart. Jim can't figure out if he's jealous, or if it's something else. Like the whole undead thing.

Piercing the bounds, what a fluffy-ass way to phrase that. Felix is a mage the same way every mage is, it seems: Wordy, easily-offended, possibly self-important. Harrow nods slowly without realizing it as he makes that mental conclusion. Lucky for everyone Jim is loud and proud and greasing the wheels of this conversation. Hearing Jim's enthusiasm for this guy brings back the smile that had been fading away at the sounds of Felix's verbiage. If Jim vouches for him, he must be okay beneath it all.

Harrow shrugs with false humility at Jim complimenting his decision-making. He deflects with a quick "Shoot, I'm glad you brought him!" Then to Felix he says, "I'm gonna have to see your magic some day. See what your soul-bindin's about, maybe? Sounds fascinatin', really! And..." Woah. Something huge must have just struck him judging by the way he stops abruptly and his eyebrows rise.

Quietly, and this time with true humility, he asks, "If you're good with soul magic, could I possibly... Ask a favor of ya? Somethin' kinda personal. You think you might be in the business of helpin' a guy out?"

Fluffy-ass has advantages, Harrow. Like making your explanations too abstract for people to pick out the bits that might upset them. Or in this case, letting Felix avoid actually spelling out his weaponry.

Felix is wondering whether (and how) to ask what any undead needs to learn about bound souls. He’s also starting to think Jim just isn’t going to let him get away with the stiff prickly act. He’s giving the captain an uncertain look right before Harrow makes his quiet request.

Somehow he still has enough surprise left in him to be taken off-guard.

“I… usually am.” He’s cautious. But the lures of secrets and favors are like twin sirens singing to him. Irresistible. After all, that’s the other thing he didn’t tell Harrow: true conjuration, the way he practices it, is the art of winning friends and influencing daedra. Right now he’s torn between his impulses, and though he tries to keep the conflict out of his expression it shows at least in his hesitation.

“Of course it would depend a great deal on what you need,” he hastens to add.

It's clear from his obvious confusion that Jim has no idea what Harrow may or may not ask for here, either. Harrow has a penchant for making sudden requests and Jim wouldn't be entirely surprised if Harrow asked to join the Imperial Legion or whatever it is they're calling themselves just to have a crack at learning more magic.

Jim shrugs in reply to the look. He's as clueless as you are, Felix.

"You...want me to leave a minute Harrow?" Jim asks slowly. If it's..personal, I mean."

Harrow laughs good-naturedly at Jim's comment and shakes his head. "Nah, man. If I'm tellin' it to this dude I just met, I got no problem with you hearin' it. Not like you're gonna turn out to be a secret warlock in disguise just waitin' to hear my secrets, and I figure any pal of yours ain't either." Which is a bit of a stretch, considering he is a pal of Jim's and he certainly wouldn't fit the bill of morally upstanding magician.

He pats the axes at his side (Which lazy rent-a-cop let a man wear axes into an aquarium? Imagine trying to pass through security with those) and nods at Felix. "These axes of mine're more trouble than they're worth in a nice place like the Nexus, but I gotta take 'em everywhere I go 'cause my soul's bound to 'em. They're like a part of my body, but they're also weapons, and it all gets kinda... complicated. There's nothin' I can do about it myself, but I thought, y'know... Maybe a guy from another world'll know the trick? Different magic, different rules. You ever worked with phylacteries or soul vessels? Think it might be somethin' you could handle?"

Phylacteries. Great. They’re in full lich territory now. Felix fails to hide the twitch of distaste that crosses his expression, but… his eyes flick to Jim for a second. Apparently this is Jim’s friend in some way, and he can’t… he doesn’t dare refuse offhand. Felix isn’t sure if he’s a secret warlock, but Harrow can count on one thing: he reckons he’d be in deep shit if he did something nasty to Jim’s friend.

Okay. Okay. Soul vessels. He does know something about those, it’s true. Focus on the problem being presented.

“…Possibly. I know a bit about containing souls and… binding them into objects.” His expression turns distant as he thinks. “All you want is to increase the distance you can go from them without suffering… ill-effects?” He doesn’t know what happens when a lich gets too far from its phylactery. The only people who pursue that kind of rare knowledge are usually the ones least invested in sharing it.

Jim doesn't really understand what they're talking about but Harrow seems a bit uncomfortable talking about it, and Felix looks a bit uncomfortable hearing about it. He assumes that whatever this means, it's not very good.

"Does it hurt if you don't? Or is it more an anxiety thing? Couldn't you lock them away somewhere safe?"

Harrow squirms uncomfortably. It's so difficult to talk about this with Jim around, as it turns out. He's never so much as hinted at violence around the guy, but he knows that anything he tells Felix might wind up retold to Jim, so it's time to buckle down and choose his words wisely. If only he knew what Felix knew about fluffy words.

"On my world, a death knight needs his runeblades to keep his sanity. I've seen knights try to give 'em up and wither away in body and in mind. I don't know if it's the same in the Nexus. I was gonna do some experiments on my own, but I'd really like to have a second opinion at hand."

He looks around then and catches sight of Viatorus mingling with other guests.

"Maybe we oughta hash out the details another time. Y'all tried the food yet? I cooked almost all of it, except the pizza. You two ever had pizza? It's good stuff! So's the land crab. Good eats."

Felix is starting to look a little more thoughtful than discomforted, the intellectual puzzle overriding the gruesome details. Which also helps the more self-serving part of his mind point out how much he could learn from helping Harrow. Sure, he won't use it against the knight (unless absolutely necessary) but who knows where else it might be useful?

Saving the rest for later is probably best for all of them, though. Felix needs time to decide how he's willing to deal with Harrowheart, to sound out his connection to Jim. And it would be preferable to talk to Harrow alone, for some of the questions he wants to ask.

"Of course. We can arrange a meeting." His smile is a little less forced this time, and he goes along with the obvious subject change willingly. He's not even going to make any comments about the dead man cooking their food. So polite. "Jim and Amelia already introduced me to pizza, actually, but land crab sounds like something new."

The mention of food makes Jim pull a bit of a face, though it's really not anyone's fault here. He'll find something he can eat, and if not there's always drinks to be had.

As long as Harrow and Felix are working out their meeting thing, good for them. Jim's glad his friends are getting along and not fighting, for a change. Spock and Bones could learn a thing or two from these guys. Maybe.

Probably not.

"Who made the pizza?"

Harrow's shoulders slack in relief at Felix's coopration. He nods respectfully at him before he turns his attention back to Jim.

"Some bird folks from a little joint I like, Piccione's. Ever been there? It's good stuff. 'Least I think so."

He's herding them now. Herding them toward the buffet tables. Someone is going to eat the land crab tonight. Someone is going to enjoy it. And if not, more for him.

"Jim, I think you mentioned you got a gentle tummy, right? There's carrots on the vegetable tray, if you want?..." Rude as it might sound phrased that way, he's suggesting it in good faith and in the pure spirit of helping a friend. Eat the carrots, Jim, you delicate beast.

Whoops, he'd all but forgotten Jim's allergies. Felix gives him a sympathetic look and hopes there's something that won't make Jim sick if he eats it: he'd rather not stuff his face if his companion can't.

Whatever else the Imperial might judge him for, Harrow has a host's knack for steering his guests toward the food. Given the chef, Felix is kind of impressed at how normal it all is. Not a bad spread at all for a kitchen of one. ...Especially that cake. He can't help it, he's lifting his eyebrows curiously, studying it with bemusement while the others discuss food details.

"Just uh...let me know what everything is? I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." Jim gives Harrow a grin and a shrug. It's really not a huge deal but dealing with strange planets' foods for the first time is always a crapshoot.

"It's really alright. Don't either of you worry." Though it's sweet of them to be mindful.

What everything is? Harrow scratches at his sideburn and shifts his mouth around as he tries to remember it.

"Cake's got all the usual, nothin' weird there. Chocolate and vanilla and butter and eggs and flour. Peppers got cheese on the inside. Chicken's fried with eggs and flour and some spices. U-uh... Land-crab legs're..."

He mumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like the words 'spider meat.' And what's with that GUILTY-ASS face he's putting on?

Wait, what did Harrow just say? The very fact he's mumbling has Felix on guard. Enough to even distract him from the fancy cake. What would make the undead look guilty?

"Sorry, they're what?"

Durant party needs moar social awkwardness

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