awashlogs | Awash Prom: The Positivity Party

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Awash Prom: The Positivity Party

[ Prom being future logged a bit- being held, icly, around the 12th, so punishments would have died down, and the party could be set up accordingly! ]

I. Breaking The Ice/Mingling

The air has an unmistaken chill to it, but it's certainly nice time for a party. Or, as nice as it's going to get in this town. Besides, at least dancing in cool weather means no one has to deal with having a weird, sweaty partner. Unless one is just so unlucky to get someone who sweats just because they're nervous. If that's the case, there's probably no helping you, buddy.

Regardless, if you're there before anything too exciting started, there's plenty for you to do already. Charades, eat, catch up with friends, meet new people-- the whole shebang! The lucky few adults are welcome to talk to a certain lion about the two bottle of tequlia he's watching over as well. What's a party without a few plastered people?

II. Superlatives

Caramia is the one to demand everyone's attention to gather around for the votes, but it's Kyrie who ends up standing in front of everyone. Not that it's surprising- he was the one to take all the votes, after all. He explains that he would like all the nominees to step forward, and then the winner for each category will be rewarded.

For King, the following are called out: Bruce, Caramia, Gaku, Greed, Guren, Minato, Noctis, Okuyasu, Prompto, Riku, Rin, and Yata. They're all asked to step forward. The winner, Guren is-

Wait. Guren? There's an annoyed bark from the crowd, from, unsurprisingly, Caramia: "Recount!!! Kyrie." There's an exaggerated sigh, but Kyrie takes another look at the ballots, only to shake his head with a laugh and say he must have "forgotten" to count some of the votes. The positivity prince is Guren, with Caramia being the ~~unfortunate~~ King. Guren gets five (5) ballots written suspiciously by Dextera's chickens (their names are written plainly over the top) and a colorless, wooden crown, while Caramia claims the one decorated with gold leafing. How predictable.

For Queen, the names called are: Estelle, Ignis, Kaoru, Maribelle, Maya, Ochako, Prompto, Selina, and Zelda. The winner, Ochako, is presented with a pretty crown, made from wood and decorated with gold leafing, and is told to see Kyrie afterwards for an additional gift. The Princess is Zelda, and she's presented with just as pretty of a crown, sans any color.

For Fool, the names called are: Akira, Dave, Gaku, Greed, Guren, Kyousuke, John, Josuke, Keigo, Ling, Lupin, Mafuyu, Maya, Minato, Okuyasu, Prompto, and Yata. The winner, or winners, Lupin and Keigo, get a special gift- one shot of tequila each. Have fun, y'all.

For the Most Positive Red, the names called to step forward are: Caramia, Clark, Dave, Estelle, Greed, Guren, Josuke, Kirishima, Lupin, Mafuyu, Maya, Ochako, Prompto, Riku, Sora, and Yata. The winner, Ochako, is gifted with a nicely made flower crown of red roses.

For the Most Positive Blue, the names called are: Aqua, Damian, Dextera, Fushimi, John, Minato, Okuyasu, Prompto, Vriska, Yusuke, and Zelda. The winner, Zelda, is fitted with a nicely made flower crown of blue tulips.

For the Most Positive Yellow, the names called are: Damian, Emma, Hunk, Izuku, Kyrie, Ling, Prompto, Ryoji, Shiho, and Sorey. The winner, Prompto--

Oh dear, it seems Kyrie misspoke. Sorry Prompto, hate to get your hopes up! The correct result, by a landslide, is Izuku, and he's given a flower crown of dandelions. At this point, Kyrie tells dear Prompto that he can just stay standing for the long haul. Maybe he'll win something yet.

For the Cutest Couple, the pairs called to step forward are: Bruce and Selina, Caramia and Lupin, Estelle and Joshua, Fushimi and Yata, Greed and Zelda, Guren and Dex, Josuke and Sora, Okuyasu and Ochako, Percy and Annabeth, and Prompto. Mysteriously, Kyrie also goes to stand opposite Lupin beside Caramia, but that could mean anything. The winners, Estelle and Joshua, are given a shot to share... of the remainder of the hug potion Kyrie received from the spider lady quest. Drink it or don't, but be wary of the consequence... Plus, it looks sort of gross.

For the Best Friends, the pairs called are: Bruce and Clark, Caramia and Kyrie, Dave and Keith, Dave and John, Dextera and Leliel, Izuku and Shouto, Kaoru and Shiho, Noctis and Ignis, Noctis and Prompto, Ochako and Izuku, Okuyasu and Josuke, Percy and Annabeth, Prompto, and Sora and Roxas. The winners, Okuyasu and Josuke, get... to high five? In front of everyone, I guess. Have fun, guys.

For the Town Heartthrob, the names called are: Akechi, Akira, Dave, Gaku, Greed, Guren, Ignis, Lupin, Minato, Nyx, Okuyasu, Prompto, Shouto, and Zelda. The winners, Lupin and Zelda, are announced--but, after Kyrie draws out a spare ballot from his pocket and hastily scribbles something onto it, it's announced that there seems to be another miscount! He's so sorry for the mix-up. A mysterious last-second voter turns the tides--Zelda is the winner, and while she doesn't get anything reward-wise, the applaud and flattery from winning should certainly suffice!

For Best Dressed, those called are: Bruce, Dave, Dirk, Gaku, Greed, Ignis, Josuke, Kyrie, Lupin, Maribelle, Ochako, Prompto, Ryo, Selina, and Tenn. The winner, Maribelle, gets ~~a lovely and striking~~ the usual, ugly pair of peasant clothing from Kyrie. Thanks...?

For Coolest, those called are: Akechi, Akira, Damian, Dave, Greed, Guren, Ignis, Izuku, Keith, Kyrie, Lupin, Minato, Noctis, Okuyasu, Prompto, and Tenn. The winner, Dave... doesn't get anything. Sorry, Dave. You're still the coolest, or something.

For Most Helpful, those called are: Akechi, Caramia, Damian, Dave, Dextera, Emma, Fushimi, Guren, Ignis, Izuku, Ling, Maribelle, Minato, Ochako, Prompto, Riku and Sora. Seeing as this, however, results a five-way tie, Kyrie sighs and tells them all that their prize is to "help" each other figure out who the winners ought to be.

And finally, for Most Likely To Fall Down The Well, Kyrie coaxes the following over: Clark, Gaku, Guren, Jake, John, Kamui, Keigo, Ling, Mafuyu, Minato, Okuyasu, Prompto, Riku, and Yata. Before the results are announced, a vote for "Not Prompto" disqualifies Prompto from the runnings, and he's told he can finally sit. The ever so lucky winner of this amazing category is none other than our resident ~~klutz~~ idol (or rather one of them): Riku!! Congratulations, Riku!!!! His prize is... having proved everyone wrong for today! Probably!

III. Dancing

Once the superlatives pass, the King and Queen get first dance, and the others will trickle in as they see fit. But overall, between Summer, Riku, Gaku, and Tenn all switching out to work on the music respectively, so it's certainly not going to be quiet any time soon. But parties would be boring if they were quiet, right? Grab a partner and join in!

IV. Mafia
[ Next Friday(06/15) at 9 PM EST, we are going to have an IC game of mafia. You'll have to make an account (it takes only a second to set up), but everything will happen in real-time, and it'll be fun to have us all chaotically doing stuff like that together. We hope you can join us! On the previous Friday, if we have enough requests, we may hold an OOC game to show people the game.

If you have any questions, you can hit me up at

rubiesriot. The out of character post for the superlatives results are here. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah.

[There's a moment of prolonged silence, then, where it feels like there's something suspended in the air, fragile and hanging on by a thread.

But Summer's always been one to break moments like that, before they can last too long. Better she does than someone else do it for her.]

I figured it'd work better for you than something else. All the other ones I know are stupid romantic.

[He has three questions all at once, and the one that comes out is:]

You picked it for me?

Y...es? I didn't want to make it awkward. Like "oh, damn, she asked me to dance and then put on this song, is there some kind of message in the lyrics, is she dropping hints, am I picking up what's being put down", or anything like that.

[Pretty casual statements for someone who's starting to look halfway to flustered, herself.]

I was trying to make it not weird. So you didn't feel weird. Fuck.

[He probably shouldn't, but Prompto ends up laughing; laughing, he feels less nervous, less awkward, more himself.]

I don't think I would've thought about it that much. Too busy making sure I don't step on your feet.

[He makes a show of looking down, craning his neck.]

Do you have feet under there somewhere? Am I worrying for nothing?

I could kick you and let you see for yourself.

[That's still a little closer to tsun than it is to sarcastic, but at least it's getting her to perk up and head back toward some semblance of equilibrium, rather than letting her own rare awkwardness get the better of her.]

Trust me, they're down there. I can't forget about them, with the way these shoes are strapped on. It's like a law of the universe that cute shoes are also agony shoes, you know.

We all suffer for looks.

[He intones it piously, devoted to healthy eating and exercise as he is. Pious and silly, that's him. He adds in his real voice:]

You could take them off. I won't tell anybody. I'll even carry them for you in magicspace, no one has to know you're cheating the cute shoe system.

[He lights up with a grin.]

Would you say the pain is... a-cute?

Boooooooooooo!

[Here's the other danger with slow dancing: you're guaranteed within arm's reach, which makes you prime target for a poke in the ribs.

The promise of losing her shoes is tempting, though. The prospect of seeing him do magicspace is even moreso.]

You realize if I take these off then all of a sudden I'm going to be short, right?

[He squeaks and takes his hand from her waist to protect his side, laughing. (He doesn't let go of her hand.)]

That's okay! I'm short.

[Or Prompto feels that way anyway, spending so much time with Mr. Ignis Six-Foot-Tall Supermodel and Meat Mountain Amicitia.]

It's up to you.

If you're short, I'm a — ...chocobo.

[Presumably she was going to say something else, and then realized he might not get the reference, and hastily amended it.

But it doesn't escape her notice, the way that he moved — and more specifically, which hand he opted to shift and which one he didn't. He didn't let go of her hand. He moved on instinct, in a split-second of reflex, maybe — and his reflex, his unconscious instinct, was to defend with the hand that wasn't holding hers.

It puts her right back to the feeling of the brick wall against her shoulderblades, the nervous half-starts and damaged laughter, the ink on his wrist and the scars on her face.

He keeps hold of her, of her hand.]

...My feet hurt.

[That's the hurried excuse she gives, as she shifts her weight over onto one foot and sort of scrapes the heel of the other along it, trying to kick her shoes off without the use of her hands, so she doesn't have to bend over to fuss with them and risk him letting go. It's not the easiest feat of balance and skill, but one by one she gets them off, and true to her word she drops down an inch or two as she ends up flat-footed on the dance floor, now left to look up slightly at him if she wants to fix her eyes on his face.]

Yeah. There we go. That's...way better.

[He notices. Prompto does feel short, most of the time; even Noct's a little taller than he is, and Noct's not tall.

It's rare that people he spends a lot of time with have to look up to talk to him, and he realizes, somewhere in the back of his mind like a closet door left open, that he spends a lot of time with her. With a girl whose real name he doesn't even know.

He knows the name of her scars. Maerlyn the Grey. It's been a month, maybe less, and he thinks he'd know her by that alone in the dark, the sound of darkness.

Here, they're trying to bring back the sun, and he wishes--not for the first time exactly, but the first time for real--that he knew sunlight things about her, too. Her name.

Instead of asking, he smiles and kneels, still without letting go of her hand, and hooks his fingers in the backs of her shoes. As he rises, they disappear into the Armiger, sparks and light like the instruments of a fairy tale. He grins wider and touches his chest.]

Got 'em as safe as I keep my camera when I'm not using it.

[She can tell what he did, of course. Maybe not all of the precise particulars; picking apart spells that she's seen is more of the old man's talent than her own, an area of study she'd never devoted much time to because her magic has always been about survival rather than scholarship. But she can tell from watching how the trick works, because with the blue sparks and the white dazzle it's flashier than the variant she knows how to do herself, but ultimately the principle is the same.

Another similarity. It's strange how so many things about Prompto Argentum feel like variations on a theme, shared leitmotifs in differing numbers.]

Camera's probably a little more important.

[But then it hits her, belated and sideways, that she's just let him do something for her, and not once did it cross her mind to try to pick apart his motives or throw up a guard of skepticism before making her decision. Sure, it's just a stupid pair of shoes, but it was easy. It didn't leave her making mental tallies of favors granted and owed. It didn't leave her planning for the worst case scenario if he won't give them back. It didn't leave her wondering why he'd offered in the first place.

It was just easy to let him. Like it's easy to let him hold her hand.

An abrupt pang of something like anxiety hits her, the first twinges of a long-honed fight or flight response, as all of a sudden she's plagued with doubts — has she let her guard down too much? Has she let herself get too soft? Is she getting her hopes up too high and setting herself up to have them crushed?

Fuck the old man. Fuck him for doing this to her. Fuck him for making her afraid of something as small as genuine happiness.]

I'd tell you not to steal them, but I don't think they'd exactly match your suit.

And I can barely walk without tripping over myself in shoes without heels. [A beat, and he adds lightly:] Red isn't my color, anyway.

[Or at least, he refuses to let it be anymore. It's gonna be all black all the way from now on, like the Crownsguard he is. You cling to what you love when it gets ripped from your fingers enough times.

Neither of them has let go.]

Heh, now I really gotta make sure not to step on your feet.

[He lifts his empty hand once more and leaves it up, empty, not for her waist again, but her other hand.]

That's not the way I wanna mess up my first dance ever.

It's okay, you can step on the tops. I only walk on the bottoms, anyway.

[She looks at him a minute, glancing from his face to his offered hand, and then carefully she lifts hers and fits it against his palm, lacing her fingers through his.

She doesn't use swords, doesn't use guns or knives or even a bow, not really. Her palms are still soft, uncalloused; it makes her notice all the more how his fingers are longer than hers, his hand a little broader, his grip loose but steady and reliable.

He said he'd teach her how to shoot a gun, with these hands. Because he wanted her to feel safe.

She thinks of it appearing in a shatter of blue-white light, the same way her shoes had disappeared, and again it occurs to her that she ought to find that apprehensive, something she ought to feel the need to guard against, and she doesn't.]

...So what way do you wanna mess up your first dance ever, then?

[With her, it's so easy to laugh. He's never... been the one provided for, in this way. He's always the one making sure everyone else is laughing, has something to smile about, a moment of lightness so they can keep going. He's not sure he's ever felt so light himself.]

I dunno. I never really thought about it. Bad dance moves, I guess?

[He lifts his face skyward to give the matter some serious unserious thought, grinning.]

Oh, wait, no! Ideally, a cute kitten gets stuck in a tree and I have to heroically abandon the dance to save it! And then we spend the rest of the night petting it and making it feel better. And then I have a kitten.

[:D :D :D]

...You'd want to keep it, huh?

[Hmmm. Now that's something worth filing away for later — and she is, visibly, filing it away for later. Hmmm, indeed.]

Plus, that's a Cinderella variant I've never heard before. Guy and girl dance at ball. Guy ditches girl, and runs away with her shoes.

Aw, you wouldn't help me save the kitten? Or help me play with it?

[He did say 'we.' Is this Prompto's idea of a perfect date night? Hmmm.]

I wouldn't let it near Jerry, promise.

I'm barefoot! There's like...rocks and stuff outside.

[This is the absolute stupidest protest in human history. Especially because they both know that she can literally fly if she wants to.]

...Nah, I'd definitely come watch you save it. And play with it, too. Jerry was almost a cat, before he ended up a bird.

Really?

[He has so many questions, and he opens his mouth to ask them all, but he remembers the vulnerability of a different moment--if he were hurt, she would be too--and he shifts his curiosity from one track to another.]

What kind of cat?

...I don't know if you have the breed, where you're from. Or maybe you do and it's just called something different? I dunno. But he would've been a Maine Coon. A red one. So imagine like...a big ginger cat with long fur. You know, the kind that look sort of like a dustrag?

[How flattering she is, to her almost-familiar.]

Why, what were you picturing?

I just wanted to know if he was fluffy or not.

[Knowing he was, Prompto seems pleased.]

Kinda funny that you end up with so much stuff in red, but Jerry turned out blue.

Haha. Red's a signature. But Jerry...

[She hesitates a minute, doing that absentminded little glance-away-and-then-back-again habit she sometimes does, and then looks up into his face before she resumes.]

The type of bird he is, they stick together in groups. They're loud and obnoxious and they pick fights with things that are bigger than they are. They're mean if other birds try to get in their way. And they're smart.

[She shrugs.]

I knew he was going to end up a bird. It didn't surprise me, that that's the kind of bird he was.

[Even Prompto doesn't miss what she's saying. He listens, absorbs it, still smiles.]

He's pretty.

[All of that might be true, and so is this.]

Prettier than a dustrag cat would've been, I bet. [Oh!] Does he want to be in the picture? I should take it before the song ends. Is he here?

[I could just make sure the song never ends, she thinks fleetingly to herself, as she hangs on his easy assessment of her familiar just a little too long. He doesn't know the damn song. He's got no idea how long it goes on for. She could make it go on for twenty minutes, and then this wouldn't have to stop.]

He's always close by. But there's nowhere for him to hide in this dress, and people wig out at indoor birds, so.

[She glances toward the window.]

I could call him. You're...okay, with animals now?

[He nods earnestly, obviously relieved.]

Yeah, finally. [He lowers his voice.] And your magic's okay?

...Yeah. The whole bag of tricks, it's all back. Piece of cake.

[She nudges him lightly.]

C'mon, let's dance a little closer over by the windows, so he doesn't have so far to go to get in here.

Awash Prom: The Positivity Party

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