nightlogs | [OPEN] Dance Party Ending...uh, Opening!!!

Entry tags:

[OPEN] Dance Party Ending...uh, Opening!!!

Who: Puss and YOU
What: Team Building party and everyone’s invited!
Where: Dining Hall
When: A little less than a week after the Branch event
Warnings/Notes: Magic candies and off the rails music

Pre-Party

The place is decked out to the nines. Yes, they are largely Christmas decorations, but they’re stretched to the fullest: Shining garlands of all colors wrap around pillars and poles. Twinkling lights are strung from nearly every surface. The tablecloths are all soft velvet and the chairs all have bundles of balloons tied to them.

(Anyone who walked by the room might have heard Puss arguing about the balloons. “Tacky,” he said. “This isn’t a prom or a birthday party,” he said. The elves insisted. Now there are balloons. The colors are tasteful, gold and dark purples like the invitations, but there are balloons.)

Puss is a considerate host, and has set up a little table at the entrance with things like earplugs and assorted first aid supplies. He already knows his fellow cats have sensitive ears, why not be prepared for everything.

It’s a good time to mingle before the party starts in earnest.

MC Puss Welcomes You

Puss’s baritone, shockingly powerful and unmic’d because Puss is just that good, rings out triumphantly through the room. He stands on a stool, spotlight on him, holding a tall mug of eggnog.

“New friends! Allies! Myths and legends! Welcome, one and all!”

He takes a swig of nog and continues.

“Ah! Now, for those who do not know me, I am the one and only Puss in Boots, righter of wrongs, avenger of justice, and your host for this evening!”

He bows, a deep contrite gesture of humility and grace. Behind him, a yeti rolls his eyes. Puss shoots him a look.

“Now tonight is about many things! It is the first step of our grand journey together! It is a beacon of light against the darkness that stands on our doorstep! It is a forging of a great alliance to protect the children of this world and our own! It’s a night of joy! A night of unity! The night we shape our destiny!”

He spreads his arms out wide, smiling broadly.

“Our destiny…”

From the side, another yeti tosses him a lute.

“...as heroes!”

Confetti cannons pop, as glitter and streamers pour down from the ceiling. So does the elf manning it, but he seems fine. Puss laughs, strums and starts on a song.

”Who are your favorite fearless heroes, who are your favorite fearless he-e-roes!”

…And when the ceremonies are done, the fiesta can begin.

Food!

The food and drink options are absolutely scrumptious but…those who are observant about such things may sense a tension in planning reflected in the options.

Among things like a taco bar, fried chicken, guacamole, a nacho cheese fountain, and every kind of salsa you could want, things like fruit cakes, gingerbread houses, sugar cookies, spiced chestnuts, candy canes, and an eggnog fountain placed confrontationally close to the cheese fountain abound as well. They’re placed with no real care, almost as if there were some unresolved argument about what constitutes “party food.”

Perhaps the elves weren’t the best helpers ever. At least there’s both spiked eggnog and non-alcoholic eggnog. Labeled even! Also the spiked one is surrounded by bottles of rum, just in case it’s not enough of a kick.

…On the edge of a table is a crystal bowl that looks somewhat…out of place. It’s filled with an assortment of simple sweets. Chocolates, hard candy, marshmallows, drops, anything you could think of. On the table is a note that reads:

"Mystery candies! These treats are not only sweet, they cause magical effects in those who eat them! What effects? You shall have to try them and find out~

Please do NOT mix these in with regular treats. Feeding them to someone without warning them in advance will not be tolerated. If there are any issues, seek out Loki”

Scribbled on it is a crude drawing of Loki and the words “this guy” and an arrow pointing to him.

Next to the bowl is a notebook and pen for recording what effects each candy has.

Music!

The Pole has everything. Every music. All of the music. The playlist for this party is years long, and the dancefloor can handle it all

But…it’s front loaded with high energy mariachi tunes, like it was put together by someone who knew exactly what they like and didn't care to branch out. The elf manning the magical DJ booth is under strict instructions to “not play anything stupid” but elves are easily distractible and really don’t know what “stupid music” would even be, so it’s not hard to get access yourself.

All you have to do is name the song, or hum the song, or even have a vague recollection of the song and the booth will slot it in as the next one in the playlist. Of course, nobody would ever abuse that privilege…right?

Performance!

Of course, there’s also a space for attendees to perform themselves. When they do, the DJ booth pauses so everyone can hear it properly. If you’re amazed by the capacities of this magitech, you’re in good company; Puss looked at it like it was catnip the first time he saw it.

Karaoke is on offer of course, but it can accommodate anything: dancing, juggling, poetry readings, performance art, hamboning, an impromptu performance of Stomp, anything goes!

Wildcard!

Hey, if you want it, the yetis or Puss can probably make it happen! The best parties are the kind where anything can happen!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Oh this music is a travesty. Like okay Puss wanted to do his little song at the beginning and it was a nice little jaunty tune about them being heroes. He won't begrudge him that, it's just like Poppy feeling inspired and improvising a cute song on her ukelele.]

[(Cute because everything she does is ridiculously cute at all times.)]

[But...the music after. Is...]

[Okay, it's good in its own way actually. Branch spent so long without music that he's come to appreciate it in all its forms. But there are different types of dancing you can do to different types of music and more conventional party dancing, as Branch knows it, isn't the most compatible with this kind of music. This feels like there's some kind of...traditional dancing? That goes with it? Or something?]

[So it is the worst for this kind of party. Branch runs away from the party for a solid half hour digging through the many many playlists he's already made due after basically nonstop listening to this world's music. (It is still absolutely freakish how this world has the same songs as home.) Some that were passed down over generations. Some that modern trolls made up that got popular. There are even a few, bizarrely, from his own boy band days, that he knows his older brothers composed; he was there.]

[But it is at least handy to have that cultural touchstone in common.]

[When he comes back he doesn't quite take over the DJ magic yet because the atmosphere isn't right. Like, okay, there's a semi-adequate amount of glitter by troll standards. But no foam cannons, no laser bug lights. Bingle, of all people, sees him poking at toys for what he's looking for, and after Branch initially backs away in alarm, he realizes the Elf is trying to make himself helpful.]

[He accepts the metaphorical apology cookie in the spirit it's meant and after a few pointed questions about toys Bingle has tested, he jingles happily over to point out what Branch is looking for it.]

[After silently setting a few things up on the periphery of the party, swinging himself up over people's heads around the edges, he's ready. Branch decides to forgo looking for any smoke machines because he doesn't know if any people with enhanced sense will find them unpleasant. Buuut he did find light projection toys, meant to project stars, auroras, and other designs. He installs them all high enough that they won't zap anyone right in the eyeballs, even at the average hulking height of the others. It'll just add a little shifting light decoration to the walls and ceiling.]

[Then he comes back to the party proper and whispers to the magic to play from his playlist.]

[The list starts strong with some Gaga and is pop and house heavy but also has some other genres. Some of the songs are remixes with stronger bass lines than the originals.]

[He cups his hands over his mouth and has to project very hard to be heard over the music.]

I brought better party music.

You're welcome!

[While he won't stop anyone from adding any genuine bops or jams to the list, he absolutely will try to bar people from changing the list if it's not great for party dancing. Everyone better bring some bops and bangers or he'll be a little music snob and try to change it back.]

Edited 2023-09-06 13:36 (UTC)

[Puss is suddenly VERY aware of two things, one after the other.

The first is that there are LIGHTS lights many tiny little lights on the wall he wants to chase them all and catch them all LIGHTS.

But then when he snaps out of that thankfully short spell, he's aware that SOMEONE messed with his carefully curated playlist and COMPLETELY thrown off the timing and momentum of his expert flamenco.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who did it: all Puss has to do is listen to the tiny voice and smell the smell. Puss doesn't really want to loom over Branch, that would be a serious party foul, so he settles for approaching until he's side-by-side with the troll. He's smiling and not in a smug cat way.]

Alright, I admit: If this- [He gestures to the lighting] -was your doing, it's pretty good. It took forever to make those Elves understand that cranberry-scented votive candles weren't adequate lighting for this kind of thing. Next time, I'll just enlist you from the start.

But just one little question for you...what have you done to my music?

[His voice drops lower and much more serious. That took hours to put together. Hours!]

I fixed it.

[He crosses his arms.]

Look, it's not bad music by itself, but for a party it sucks. How are people supposed to dance to it if it seems made for specific dances where you have to already know the steps?

At a party like this where nobody knows the same moves, you've gotta keep it loose.

[His playlist, shuffling in the background, reaches the bass drop in "Turn Down For What" and when it hits the synthesizer after, he demonstrates, just tossing in a few moves on a whim. He whips and nae naes a few times and then does a few circular, head-banging hair whips, before bouncing upright.]

[It is nothing like the flamenco, yet is still on beat.]

Like that.

[Puss may have been able to follow Branch's logic...if he hadn't used the word sucks. That got an actual sputter out of him.]

Wha-that-you-! That is classic stuff! Every party needs mariachi! It's not a proper fiesta without one!

So what if you can't dance like Puss in Boots! It's not about the moves, it's about the feeling! The rhythm!

[Puss raises an eyebrow at Branch's dance moves, scoffing slightly. Turn down for what? More like Puss turns down his ears at that nonsense.]

Just looks like a bunch of contortions to me. Where's the footwork?

[Branch narrows his eyes and he drops into basically all footwork, somehow still in time with the music.]

[To him they are just general moves that he's throwing together. To a human, they'd recognize them as several iconic moves from the King of Pop, albeit with the timing adjusted for a different style of music.]

[First a rapidfire shuffling move and twirl that ultimately ends with him going completely up on his tiptoes, then a circle glide that makes him look like he's somehow sliding across the table he's dancing on, and then he starts to moonwalk.]

[The only times he breaks surly eye contact are when the moves spin him around and then he re-engages the surly eye contact.]

You were saying?

[Puss watches. His whiskers twitch. He inhales. He straightens his back as if he's just been slapped with a white glove.]

Unless I am mistaken, unlikely as that is, I believe you have just proposed-

[Puss rises on the toes of his boots, before breaking out into an impressive heel-toe flamenco step, punctuated by rhythmic clapping.]

-A challenge!

[Branch has been cautious about being near the food table anytime any of the big people are around. It just... makes him uncomfortable. But by the end of the night, he can be found near the eggnog fountain.]

[The alcoholic egg nog fountain.]

[Problem the first: he doesn't know what alcohol is. His people are known for indulging in absolutely insane sugar highs that would register as intoxication by human standards. But they don't have alcohol.]

[He just thought it tasted sort of sharp and weird - but interesting. Food back home never gets sharp and weird and puts fume up your nose. It's a little off-putting but a novel experience. Still, he'd only finished off the tiny tiny amount in his thimble and hadn't drunk anymore after that.]

[Problem the second: Alcohol proof in relation to body mass.]

[Yeah, it's a very good thing he's not even close to human so there's no tiny liver that's currently getting hit by a metaphorical semi truck.]

[He is, however, just lying there on the table next to the alcoholic egg nog fountain, next to one of the rum bottles, holding his now empty thimble over his head to look at the bottom of it. The last few drops already dripped on the little cardigan that was improvise for him because the Pole is so cold. When someone approaches, he starts chattering away, his words a bit slurred.]

Sssooo I think thiss drink is like mind..lettering. Mindleter - affects your mind. I def'nite'y feel something but m'still totally with it.

I have a mind like a - thing. One of those -

[He digs.]

The things. That I put all over. When I was freaaaking out. Those things.

[He goes quiet for a little bit then suddenly calls out, snapping a finger with the hand not holding the thimble.]

Trap! Mind like a trap.

[He looks at his thimble again.]

This is't affecting me burly at all.

[ Oh, it is the imp, drunk off his mind. That's hilarious. ]

Opened one of the bottles, did you?

[ Another rum bottle is placed on the table with a dull thunk, from a troll's perspective. Miguel had made himself a basic little something to avoid drinking from the open-season eggnog fountain. It's citrusy! And bubbly from soda. ]

[Oh, it's this jerk.]

Oh, s'you, jerk. Hey, jerk.

[Yeah, the filter is mostly gone.]

[...Or, honestly, he might have said the same thing, if he wasn't drunk, it just might have been less slurred.]

Din't need to open a boddle, just dranked a drank from the drank fountain.

[Literally a thimble of lightly spiked nog did this to him. When it comes to inebriation, body mass and how much of it is muscle is everything, really.]

Are you drinking from a boddle? [His brain only just now catches onto the fact Miguel put one down and he thinks these bottles must be involved with the contents of the fountain somehow.]

[He gasps in mock shock, putting his thimble down and pushing himself up to sit on the table with an extreme wobble.]

Are you secr'tly fun?

[He's never been the type to indulge in some kind of food or experience that led to some loopiness. He's either been completely antisocial or too on guard. Which is very not-fun, by his people's usual standards, even if he gets his special "it's Branch" pass because everyone knows why he's so on edge.]

[But as one frequently unfun person to another, he absolutely already has Miguel pegged as one of his unfun brethren. The intensity is painfully (genuinely painfully) familiar. Because he's upset at him, he doesn't lean on this as a source of solidarity. Instead, he's going to be a total hypocrite and treat him like a mirthless stick in the mud.]

I bet you're the most [he dips into a light falsetto singsong on the second most] mooo-ost fun-loving guy. I bet. You prob'ly even have, like, an whole hobby.

[People that intense often don't have many hobbies.]

[Branch knows because he's had to be be dragged by the hair into having more hobbies himself, or else he'd spend day in and day out maintaining his bunker. He just fortunately has a group of friends that screams "He's wallflowering, guys, he's wallflowering!" in a panic if he stands against the wall with his arms crossed at a community dance. Sometimes they have to drag him hard while he claws at the ground like an animal trying to escape a trap, but they push him out of his comfort zone when he needs it and stop pushing when he needs them to back off.]

Edited 2023-09-13 11:16 (UTC)

[ Miguel observes the imp's entire performance with a very still expression, save for a slight lift of the chin. He apparently did not have enough rum & cokes to loosen up even a little bit, yet. ]

I had a running suspicion you'd be using that fountain like a bathtub.

[ The insult seems to slide off of him - Miguel already knows he's very serious. He lived in a building full of quipping Spiderfolk that constantly reminded him of the fact. No teasing will supercede the amusement of watching an inebriated smurf stumble around on the table. He will entertain this. ]

I made a separate drink, because I didn't want to taste whatever it is you use as hand soap.

Ew, I didn't put my hands in. I just put a clean thible in. Duh. Shuddup.

[He has manners, Miguel, come on, he just dipped a clean, unused him-sized cup in there basically and was careful not to touch it, no worse than using a ladle.]

[He lifts his chin.]

I'll have you know my people have impeg - imp - impebacle party manners. [Haughtily.] Parties are a big part of our culture.

Edited 2023-09-14 04:04 (UTC)

[ musing, mostly to himself. ]

Only a thimble, huh...?

[ Miguel remembers Branch covering himself in ketchup and wrappers from the garbage. He did not have high expectations for his imp hygiene. But fine, he rolls with it. Even a stick in the mud had a lot less to be stressed about in a casual setting. ]

Do trolls usually throw ragers?

[Hey, desperate measures. Going through the trash and using the ketchup reflecting nothing about his usual hygiene.]

[The guy is being mildly less annoying right now, though, so Branch is a little more conversational, the alcohol loosening his tongue.]

[He looks in his little thimble as if contemplating the nature of the stuff he just drank.]

D'pends in the holiday. We have a lot of holidays.

[Branch tries to get up to wobble over towards the big bottles, to try to drunkenly read the labels based on curiosity. It takes a few tries, but ultimately he manages to sway his way over. With that big head of his, and his wobbling steps, he looks like a toddler.]

Really big one on Liberation Day. S'annivis - annivers...arary of the day we escaped the Bergens through the tunnels so really big party.

Prob'ly the biggest one of the year. Y'know. Gotta celebrate not dying anymore with glitter cannons.

[He's not judging though, he knows how important it is to his people to have that kind of brightness.]

[He tries to interpret the rum label.]

What's...proof? Proof of what?

[ He was coming to learn that. For the bare minimum tolerance they were giving each other here, Miguel was at least sitting back and listening to him. As the sober one, he felt a little obligation to stick around and make sure Branch didn't trip into the eggnog and drown or something. He didn't actually want the little guy hurt.

But as the troll continues to explain, a connection is made between this and his earlier realization regarding the thing he just drank. ]

The percentage of alcohol. You... know what alcohol is, yes?

[ Did these parties of Liberation not have anything boozey?? What kind of party was that? ]

Have no idea what that is. [He gestures wobblingly at the rum bottle and the fountain with his thimble.] Zis alcohol?

We have stuff makes you a lil' loopy. Should see the whole village on a frosting binge sugar high. Woof.

But not this.

[He wasn't lazing around while drunk on purpose. He just hadn't had the cultural knowledge to know it was different than any of the other sodas and drinks.]

[ oh no. ]

Intoxication from alcohol is an entirely different beast. You're supposed to have a small amount of it at a time. Moderated. Did you down this all at once?

[ Miguel can't help the concerned, responsible side of him. He may think Branch is a nuisance, but his first emotion is to worry! ]

The sugar from the eggnog makes the effect worse. And you're probably dehydrated. You need to drink water.

[ praying that this fairy tale creature isn't feeling nauseous. ]

You don't know what sugar does to muh people.

[It is a bit more pronounced, though it's not as extreme as being drunk. And skews a lot more in the direction of being like crystal meth.]

And I dranked it like a normal drank.

[So while he didn't exactly chug it down, he wasn't treating it like a sipping beverage to nurse through the night either.]

[At Miguel fussing he rolls his eyes and lets out a loud pfft. The irony here is Branch absolutely is usually the one fussing over whether everyone is drinking enough water, he can really bring a troll rave down that way.]

M'fine. [He wobbles and falls right over to a sit.] ...That was a choice.

[He totally chose to sit, just like he's totally choosing to lay down. It's not that the room is spinning.]

So you don't have to preten' to care.

[It's not said dramatically or petulantly, more matter-of-factly, like it's just a waste of both of their time. He doesn't want to have to listen to it, and he thinks Miguel probably doesn't want to actually expend the energy. It's a weird bit of theater they don't have to engage in.]

[He's just giving him permission to forgo the pretense. Branch won't even be offended by it.]

S'like bein' sick. [Like being out of it and dizzy with fever and dehydration.] M'used to taking care m'self when m'sick. Used to be a hermit.

[That's also said matter-of-factly like someone might say they used to be a student.]

[If there is food and things that taste sweet in general, you can trust Jennifer to be there. Brown has been tagging along as usual, but he's annoyed by the joviality of the humans at the moment, acting as Jennifer's braincell can be a thankless job at times, so he's curled in a ball watching over her from a distance.

Jennifer is not quite concerned at the little guy's behaviour, rather confused.]

Hello, little one!

[She thinks he might be a doll but speaking to inanimated object is a common occurrence for her. What a poor, mentally unstable, unlucky girl.]

Are you having fun?

[Arguing with how present he is might make him defensive, and given that he is drunk, that might make him clumsy enough to hurt himself accidentally, and that is not worth it. She takes a cup of eggnog for herself.]

Ooh, this tastes good!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN] Dance Party Ending...uh, Opening!!!

Branch

DJ Battle Royale

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Food - cw: mild insinuation of cannibalism, alcohol/drunkenness

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject