nightlogs | Everybody Wants to Party with You [Open/Mingle]

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dan sagittarius

Everybody Wants to Party with You [Open/Mingle]

Who: Dan and everyone – feel free to mingle with each other!
What: Dan’s turning forty and it’s party-time.
Where: The Pole
When: After Shitty Little Town, before Halloween
Warnings/Notes: Drug and alcohol use, general Dan warnings.

I. Let’s Get It Started, No More Hesitation

Dan didn’t expect to get this far. He really didn’t. He was supposed to be dead by twenty-three, and then when that milestone came and actually passed, he just assumed that the lethal profession he threw himself into would snatch him into the dark sooner rather than later. It’s only in the last few years, partnered up and with his creature needs stably met, that the horrifying possibility of a death by natural causes has entered his consciousness. It dogs him throughout the week leading up to his birthday, this looming sense that he may need to make peace with getting older, with losing his looks and physical capacity, of turning from an asset in the field to a liability.

He doesn’t want to become a burden. He knows his loved ones would rather he become a burden than prematurely become a memory, but he thinks that must be much easier to think from the other side of things. Everyone he’s close with is imbued with myth powers for now, possibility forever, and in Bunny’s case is stewarding god-like powers. Meanwhile, doing what he can to hide his heartburn and his back pain and the way his right shoulder cracks when he raises his arm above his head, Dan finds it very easy to conceive of how he’s going to be less pleasant and less fun and less capable as the decades shuffle by, and how all this time with the people he cares about will eventually become less enjoyable all around.

It would be easier to just be dead, and it bothers him all week, so he does what he does best, which is to distract himself. In this case, he’s planning a party.

He considers doing something tasteful and subdued, a nice night in with close friends and a bottle of wine and a charcuterie plate or something, then decides that those sorts of mannered engagements can be relegated to his forties. Today, he’s thirty-nine and three hundred and sixty-four days.

The yetis and Dan are quite tight at this point, and they assist with decorating the communal relaxation room with non-denominational décor, everything from paper lanterns to an inflatable bouncy castle. Dan doesn’t seem to have themed this party at all, instead just wishlisting every indulgent thing he could come up with, from a chocolate fountain to a pin-the-nose-on-the-snowman game. There’s cornhole with red and green sparkly hacky sacks, a table loaded with all sorts of cheap sugary snacks and drinks of various proofs, a photo strip booth, a karaoke machine, a bunch of Polaroid cameras, and even some fireworks for later in the evening. Technically, it’s a Halloween party, so there are cheap costumes available for those who haven’t brought their own. Phil the yeti has DJ powers.

Everyone’s invited.

II. Anybody Just Won’t Do [Closed to Bunny]

Dan knew Bunny wouldn’t be particularly keen on a rowdy party, so he set aside two days after the party for their own little date – he needed the day after the party to sleep off the hangover, and Bunny was doing a milk run in Mongolia.

He sleeps in, occasionally peeking at Bunny doing his t’ai chi but mostly just enjoying his warm bed and the smell of the tea Bunny brews, figuring he’s going to let Bunny do what Bunny does best and take control and boss him around a little. When Bunny’s talking over him, it bothers Dan, but when Bunny’s ordering Dan to have a good time and taking him out on a date and surprising him with things to do and places to see, there’s nothing he likes more. So he lets Bunny wake him up.

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Dan's actually been fully awake for nearly forty minutes by now, just enjoying a slow morning that's starting to approach afternoon, trying to guess by smell and the sound of spoons stirring and bottles being placed what concoction Bunny's making for him.

Then Bunny says the magic words, and Dan sits up with a grin to cuddle up to Bunny and investigate the offering, taking a sip of the hot cocoa with a wince and a pleased moan. "You don't say."

He rests his head on Bunny's shoulder, pulling the blanket around both of their shoulders as if they're in cahoots. He can tell by the color more than the taste that there's caffeine in it, because the chocolate and maple delightfully overpower his muted sense of taste. "This is delicious. Tell me what we're doing today. Tell me who needs our assistance."

He knows that going out and finding an adventure for him is part of the birthday treat, and he loves that Bunny knows that that was exactly what he wanted: a chance to have a good time and do a little good together while they're at it.

"If I tell you, where's the surprise? Eat up and bring your horse," Bunny chuckles, producing a cinnamon roll drowning in icing from behind his back. There is twice as much icing on this cinnamon roll as is legally advisable. It has a candle on it, somehow already lit. It's still warm from whatever mall kiosk he lifted it from.

"I hope you didn't have anything planned today. I went and filled it up."

"Oh, Blondie's in on this too?" The morning just keeps getting better and better, and Dan isn't a fan of most mornings. Any time he gets to take his horse out for an adventure, rather than just routine exercise, is a treat.

He takes the cinnamon roll, giving Bunny an appreciative squeeze and blowing out the candle. He plans on eating nothing but indulgent sugary treats all day. Eventually, he'll have to reckon with the idea of managing rather than ignoring his health, and it feels like the death rattle of his thirties isn't quite time for that.

"I left today a blank slate just for you," he says, giving Bunny a kiss on the cheek, the preferred method of kissing in their disparate forms. Human lips to cleft rabbit palate and elongated incisors is just too awkward. He shovels Cinnabon in his face. "You know better than anyone how to fill my time."

"You got a lot of runners to keep up with." Bunny nuzzles Dan's forehead, his version of returning a human kiss, showering Dan with affection through snuggles as Dan finishes his breakfast.

When Dan's done and dressed, Bunny opens up the tunnel to a wide dusty field in some vast desert. The blue sky is whipped with cirrus clouds, and the mountains are striated with red and dun, cut through with canyons.

"See that one with the green grown on it?" Bunny points into the very far distance. "You'll see it when we get closer," he assures Dan, as he waves Dan over to a canyon that is oddly silver compared to the others around it.

As they stand overlooking the canyon, the first unicorn trots out. It bravely sniffs the air, as two others emerge from the silvery canyon behind it, and the gleaming white unicorns begin to whinny with glee.

A greater herd begins to emerge, not from deep within the canyon but from some portal that is stretched between the two walls. Infectious joy spreads among the herd as they gambol, gleaming and so much more beautiful than they have any need to be.

"They, uh, do this migration twice a year," Bunny says to Dan, as the first bold members of the herd begin to run, the rest picking up a trot behind it. "I asked them to bump it up a week so it could be your birthday present. They're smart, but when they run they go a bit crazy with joy and they're liable to get lost in the wrong canyons. They need someone to keep a level head and herd them."

He smiles smugly at Dan, well aware this is the best present Dan couldn't even think to ask for.

Even before Dan gets a chance to see what they're up to, he can tell he's about to have a good time. The desert has always been his home, and the crackle of dry air on his skin feels like being kissed by the sun after so many weeks cooped up at the Pole, which has entered the time of year where there aren't days so much as a few hours of dusk between pitch-black night.

He gets up on Concrete Blonde and follows Bunny at a gallop, always enjoying when they get to race around, even if Bunny can easily outpace even a magical horse. The sight at the end blows him over.

"Honey!" he says once he gets his breath back, snatched as it was by the gorgeous creatures frolicking. "I had no idea..."

He can't stop grinning. What a perfect activity. Dan didn't realize how much he wanted to feel useful today when he feels like he's staring down the reality that eventually, if he doesn't die first, he'll need to be taken care of and won't be able to go out and do things like this.

"Are you going to take the left flank and I'll take the right?"

"And we'll do a sweep back after to check for strays," Bunny adds, accepting Dan's plan by finishing it. "I think you'll like talking to them. Use your heart, not your words."

He bounds off to the left as the herd picks up speed, the unicorns horns and hooves flashing like prisms, like gleaming gold, purest silver - there's every kind of build of unicorn in the herd, from the daintiest most doe-eyed little girl dreams to powerful chargers that look ready to fight lions; except that nobody on this run is ready to fight, each runner suffused withe the joy of the journey, like partiers at a festival or children cut loose in a theme park; like college kids on spring break, or retirees on that long awaited cruise to Mexico.

Their hooves strike up chimes of music when they strike the sand, which turns to diamonds beneath them. Three frolicking young mares on the right side of the herd make a wrong turn down a canyon in front of Dan, too distracted by their chatter to realize they're getting lost.

Their chatter is a wordless sense of projected emotion, as they share their happiness at being together, their interest in seeing what's at the end of this canyon, their delight in running.

"My heart's got a better voice than my vocal cords anyhow," Dan says before putting his sunglasses on and urging Concrete Blonde back into a gallop, racing along the right side of the herd. The joy from the unicorns is infectious. His own joy is infectious. He can feel the ease and lightness and energy in Concrete Blonde and can tell how happy she is, too.

He sees the trio of mares zooming down the wrong canyon arterial, sounding like jinglebells and throwing glittering lights around like a disco ball. Concrete Blonde keeps up easily, and he can sense that she's giving off some sort of maternal guidance from the way the mares respond to her, with a sort of rueful appreciation for her concern, a sort of mommmmmm whine that isn't actually a complaint.

He tries to project a sense of happiness for them at how excited they are, a sense of desire for them to not let the rest of their herd worry. He wants them to know that they can completely cut loose because they have someone making sure they don't go astray.

The mares turn around, leaping over each other and doing little spins in the air, whinnying and nickering as they get back on track. Concrete Blonde circles, and she and Dan continue to shepherd as some small ponies trail off, then as some of the big broncos nearly get left behind trying to show off which of them can jump higher in front of a canyon wall that has striations that can be used a measuring stick.

He and Bunny cross paths as the herd slows when they encounter a river, not a barrier but just an impediment. The larger unicorns start to ford it, turning the water into thick, beautiful stained glass beneath their hooves.

"Looks like this is the halfway point. Let's sweep the back."

"Yeah, let's," Bunny agrees. He doesn't have to ask, seeing Dan's smile, but he still does. "Having a good time?"

He starts the sweep at a slow lope, for Concrete Blonde to catch up with, fast enough to get the work done but slow enough to hold a conversation.

"The best." Dan's had a lot of fun birthdays, and he and Bunny have gone out on dates for the last few, but this is superlative.

They find some young colts doing kickflips on their sweep, and then it's back to the river, where the deep blue and green glass is plenty thick to ride across. The back half of the journey is even more intensive, as the unicorns have worked themselves up into a gleeful frenzy and keep going in circles or down the wrong paths.

By the time they're done, Dan's happily exhausted from riding for hours, short of breath and flushed and grinning. He watches the last unicorn leap through the portal and gets off Concrete Blonde, who follows said unicorn through. She'll come back to him later.

"Have fun, sweetheart," he tells her as she vanishes and the portal closes. He finds a rock on the mesa with a gorgeous view and lights a cigarette, luxuriating in a job well done.

"You know, if you wanted to make this my birthday present every year, I ain't gonna complain."

Happy in his smug pride, Bunny grins. "You know I love setting a new bar." He nuzzles Dan's forehead before jetting back off to finish the rear sweep.

At the end of the day, with the equines all off in their winter pasture a dimension away, the desert glittering with sand transformed into grains of diamonds, he sits down and pulls Dan down to lean against his lap while the wind blows Dan's cigarette smoke downwind.

"I'll talk to the elders, see if they wouldn't mind keeping the date," he says, stroking Dan's hair, rooting through his pack for the rest of Dan's gift. Down in a canyon, visible to him at this distance but barely, a gleaming-eyed oil-slick black coyotelike creature licks its chops and looks resentfully at him and Dan, who robbed them of a meal of lost unicorn, so much more delicious than all the magic-free mundane creatures that thrive in the desert. Bunny doesn't call attention to it, pulling out a flask of more mocha maple hot chocolate and a parcel of painted paper tied up with a raffia string.

"I tried to get the taste right," he says, giving Dan his next present. It was truly hard for him to get the marshmallow tasting plasticky and low-quality enough, hard technically and emotionally, but Peeps are what Dan misses from the mortal world of candy, and whether those are objectively bad candies or not, it's what Dan misses, so it's what he's made.

Dan kills his cigarette and looks out at the coyote, giving it a little wink as if it could see and understand him from up here. He feels a bit sheepish at its expense, sitting up here enjoying maple mocha while it has to return to eating ground squirrels and quail.

He lets Bunny shield him against the wind at the top of the mesa and opens up the package. "What did I do to deserve getting spoiled like this?"

He knows the answer: he's irreplaceable.

"Honey..." He turns a Peep over in his hand, looking at the little beady eyes and the bright coloring, and then shoves it into his mouth, groaning with satisfaction at how nostalgic it is. He remembers taking Bunny out to that beach to work through his feelings on the Peeps ban that weren't actually about the Peeps ban. He thought Bunny forgot it.

"It tastes perfect," he says with his mouth full.

"What did you do?" Bunny says, "just went and picked the best possible person to marry, didn't you?"

All the nostalgic happiness on Dan's face warms Bunny's heart, and as hard as it was to make objectively bad candy, the happiness it brings Dan makes it worth it.

Maybe this is enough to sweep Peeps Fight behind them forever. Maybe Dan will taste the I'd do anything for you in the cheap-tasting marshmallow and carry that with him the way Bunny assumed he did after Bunny messed with time and space to save Dan's family, and save Dan from erasing himself from existence.

In any case, it's still a good birthday, and Bunny pulls Dan closer into the windshield of his body to watch the sunset turn vibrant. The diamond sand down below throws off the same rainbow iridescence the unicorns that transformed it cast.

"I spent a long time getting the formula right," Bunny preens, because if nothing else he can he proud of how accurate he got the terrible concoction. "I'll make you some again next Easter."

"And somehow convinced you to go along with marrying me." He grins and wolfs down another Peep, cuddling up with Bunny to watch the sunset. Their day doesn't have to end here; they can just pop over to another timezone where the sun's still shining and enjoy their waking moments together. They both love the work and the missions, but Dan wishes they got to do more of them together.

"I knew there weren't no recipe you couldn't might crack." He also knows it pained Bunny to make something that's objectively trash, but it's Dan's favorite trash. "My world feels right again having these."

He watches the shimmer of diamond dust in the canyon below.

"I didn't expect forty to feel like a milestone. Thirty didn't feel like one."

"Is either of those a milestone?" Bunny asks. He's not trying to be dismissive, and aware as he says it, he probably sounds it. "More or less than fifty? Sixty?"

Dan might not make it to either of those. This isn't the time to think about that, but it does cross his mind.

A swirl of wind spins up an iridescent dust devil that sings across the desert. Bunny focuses on that instead.

"Humans generally think in decades. Forty's around when you're middle-aged. Supposedly I'm due for an identity crisis where I rethink all my life choices and pick a new career."

For the first time in his life, Dan feels content where he is, as much as he's ever been. The urge to burn his life down feels so much more poisonous when he has a life to burn down.

"You know it's hard for me to think about the future, but...I reckon that's why I want to hear what you think. I can't really imagine what life's going to look like when I can't do things like this with you."

"You'd better not rethink all your life choices, I'm one of them," Bunny jokes, to deflect from the fact that he would like Dan to make at least a few changes in his life. He almost says and I'd hate to go to work without you, but then Dan makes that very point.

One day he'll have to, but today, he can joke about it.

If only he could find a joke.

"I think I'll miss you when you're gone, but until then, I'm glad to have you," Bunny says, thinking carefully. "I'll always be glad to have you, no matter what you can or can't do."

Before Dan can protest, he adds, "I know that's easy to say now. You don't have to remind me. I know it'll get harder. I'd rather it get harder than not have happened."

"You're the best choice I've ever made." He gives Bunny a scratch to the ticklish part of Bunny's chin.

He wants to believe Bunny; he does believe Bunny. But he can't seem to place himself in any sort of picture of the future. He can't imagine years of sitting around waiting for Bunny to come home to be anything but demoralizing and discouraging, can't imagine that he'll be a good partner to Bunny, can't imagine the time together won't start to feel like a chore for Bunny, like a distraction from all the work Bunny has to do and all the wrongs in need of righting in the world.

It would be easier to just die younger and not have to face that, but Bunny's telling him, and has told him in different words so many times, that that's not what Bunny wants. That's something so antithetical to what Bunny wants that the idea of it is offensive.

"I won't lie, it scares me. Way more than I reckoned it would might." He adjusts so he's resting his head on Bunny's leg, partially in his lap. "I didn't get to see my parents get old. I know forty ain't old, but I'm already older than they were when they died."

Even though they undid that.

"I don't want to turn into an obligation for you, and I ain't sure how to avoid that when so much of what we love to do together is hard on me and getting harder."

He loves it, but it's hard on his body to be in the heroing business. Even aside from the substance use, he's been banged up and thrown around and he recovers less quickly than he did when he was in his twenties or early thirties.

Bunny's eyes roll back in pleasure as Dan finds the right spot on his chin. But he snaps back as Dan admits he's scared, and combs his claws gently through Dan's hair.

"Even when you can't keep up, you won't be anything but a blessing." He considers, as he pets Dan. "I know it won't be much fun for you, though."

That's an understatement. The horror of aging only touches him through Dan. The idea of losing his ability to do he work, to bounce back from injury and exhaustion, to get less and less capable over the years is awful. He doesn't want to think about it. But Dan has to. So he has to as well.

"You sure you're going to be satisfied with a partner who ain't do much more than sit and talk to you? What if my mind starts to go?"

Dan knows that this is further down the line than he needs to be thinking, but he finds that right now he wants the reassurance. He doesn't want to become tedious to Bunny. He doesn't want to bore himself, either.

It feels like one thing to age with someone, and another to age away from someone who will never go down that path. Wandering down dark untaken roads has never scared Dan before, but now he feels like this is a journey he's going on alone, no matter how much he doesn't want to leave Bunny behind and no matter how much Bunny wishes he didn't have to take that path.

"I didn't set myself up good to get old and I don't think I have it together enough to reverse that."

Bunny sits with the question a minute, knowing the answer is that it will hurt and sadden him. "Then I'll tell the same stories over again. I don't hate hearing myself talk."

He smiles at his joke.

"No point in dwelling on it. It isn't happening now and there's not much thinking about it can do to stop it," he says, curling around Dan affectionately. "If you can't reverse anything -"

He stops himself, because the amount of sober Dan won't get, and the amount of abuse he puts his body through, there's no not making anything worse.

"You've got better doctors now," he points out, instead. "You've got doctors at all. And there's some favors I could call in, a panacea here and there in store would do you good."

There's so many ways to prevent things from becoming the worst they could be, as long as Dan is alive, in the time they do have left. It is deep in his nature to cling to that.

That gets a laugh out of Dan anyway. It's good to take the hurt out of this with a joke. He pets Bunny's leg, feeling the warmth of the hot rock beneath his torso preventing the evening chill from becoming unpleasant.

"I might could get over my ego enough to start asking for panaceas. If things get worse." He sighs. "Sometimes I do try, you know. I try to not drink or to cut back. I know it's better for both of us, but I just can't do it."

It hurts to admit that. It isn't that Dan doesn't have grit, doesn't have perseverance or an ability to tolerate discomfort, but he feels so powerless in this matter. He feels almost like his addictions are something that were done to him, just like the family curse and the repossession.

"By a few hours in it just feels like torture- worse than torture, so I don't even tell you when I'm making an attempt because I know deep down I'm just going to slide back into it."

"I'll source a few," Bunny says, looking out over the sunset that is turning from red and orange to pink and purple, now that the sun is halfway behind some clouds. "Doesn't hurt to be prepared."

He listens to Dan admitting to sometimes trying to quit, and gets hopeful - his first impulse is to say well don't give up, just keep trying and he knows from everything he's read about addiction that that's not the right thing to say. It feels like the right thing to say to him. Like sobriety can be practiced, like any other skill that needs honing.

"Well," he says, thinking, "It means a lot that you try."

Aren't there hospitals that specialize in that, he also thinks, but doesn't leap into asking, when Dan is being vulnerable about the one thing Bunny does wish would change about him.

"I just hurt all the time," Dan confesses. "And feel exhausted. Wouldn't could complain about something to take the edge off that."

He doesn't like complaining to Bunny, but if Bunny's offering to help it doesn't serve either of them to pretend that Dan's hard living isn't catching up to him. He doesn't know why he's talking like he's already approaching the end of his life when he may plausibly have many decades left - but for Bunny, this must all feel like it's happening so quickly. If Dan's been taken off-guard by how much he's declined in five years it must feel like the blink of an eye to Bunny.

He sighs. He knows that trying isn't the same as accomplishing, and he does wish he could do this for Bunny. He wishes he could do it for Stacia and Elle and Cammie and Price and Miguel and all the people who've come to care about his wellbeing. He winds his fingers into a thick part of Bunny's fur.

"You gave me such a good birthday, honey. I don't mean to be maudlin. You just got me wanting as many of these birthdays as I can get."

Which might be the first time Dan's ever told anyone - ever felt - like he's wanted more time, not less.

"I hate that you do." A thing that's easy to say, and mean, when he himself is almost entirely assured that any physical pain he feels will go away. The idea that Dan can only expect there to be more horrifies him. And yet it's the most natural, normal thing in the world - more normal, statistically, than his charmed - and dutied - existence. "Whatever I can do to make it easier, I will."

He leans in to rub his forehead against Dan's, get a good long gaze into Dan's eyes in. He knows too well what a big deal it is to hear Dan say he wants more time, not less. It warms his heart. It makes him feel accomplished. It reassures him that he's going to get more of that time, even though it will never be as much time as he wants. "Good."

He pulls Dan in for another embrace. "I'm glad I got a whole year to think of how to top this birthday, though. I don't know how I'm going to come up with a better surprise next year," he jokes, nuzzling Dan's neck.

"I'm just glad I got another four months before yours. You set a high standard. I got to figure out how I'm going to meet it." Dan always wants to make something hand-made for Bunny, usually something from carving, tailoring and leatherworking. Last year he put together a very nice carrying bag for small camping supplies.

"Day ain't over yet, though." Even though it's nightfall by now - they aren't bound by timezones. "And you worked me up an appetite. What you got planned for us next?"

Dan's hoping a nice dinner and a little more time together before they go back to their room at the Pole and fall asleep in each others' arms.

Everybody Wants to Party with You [Open/Mingle]

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