altimit | open | party like you're 35;

open | party like you're 35;

Who ☀ Hector & "everyone"
What ☀ It's Hector's birthday!
When ☀ August 5
Where ☀ Lumina Cloth. Surprise!
Content Warnings ☀ drunk people, will add as needed

[ Arrive at Mac Anu, where the welcome party was held, to find it...empty? A quick look on the forums shows a little edit to Hector's post:

We're popping Lumina Cloth's cherry! See you there :-)

So that's where he is.

In the center of the brightly illuminated nighttime city, Hector's set himself up for his little get together. But since he doesn't have any tables or plates or anything fancy like that, all the alcohol and food he bought from various vendors are just...strewn around the floor. The food is probably still good to eat, though. It's fine. Take what strikes your fancy!

Hector's wearing his outfit again. He lounges on the steps of that funky spinny thing in the center of town, and anyone who gets close enough to hear him will hear music coming from his mic. Give him a break. He's doing his best.

When enough people have gathered, he might actually get up and drag everyone into a drinking game.

So enjoy—eat, drink, mingle, and smack your friends! PvP is enabled here, after all :) ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Tylor doesn't really mind anyone right now! Not while his heart feels broken. Yet for all intents and purposes, Tylor is actually fine in the aftermath of parting from Mr. Misteaks. Nothing seems off as he locates a drink with a smile. And then he turns on his heel to wander off from the party altogether. Even that isn't altogether uncommon for him.

But he's gone an awful long time for not having gotten very far. For tonight's wandering is an aimless affair and there is little attention paid to his surroundings as he goes. Far enough from the cursory glances of those that stray from the party radius, he eventually makes an easy climb up to a small ledge. Only his legs are visible from the alley, dangling yet stilled. His expression is a shade too wistful for his usual friendly smile, but not unhappy. ]

( At first, it seems just coincidence, how Tylor's situation echoed familiar - but then he considers that the whole concept of this level of virtual reality works only by fooling the brain by telling it they feel something they don't, actually. Pain where there is none, wind where there is none, whiskey where there is none. Is love and an impulse to express it so impossible, when all that is is a number of chemicals and a couple stimuli along the right sort of pathways?

If this hypothesis ends up true, it's conclusion can't be anything good: the true extent of this technology, and what it could be used for. Confessions and silly outfits seem distractions. He does not think that any corporation would use this technology responsibly or safely.

He doesn't know if he feels the desire to stop it, or feel concern. But he thinks there is a potential danger here.

It's as he's pondering these things that a minute passes, then two, and then three to five - he saw Tylor walk off, but he hasn't come back. Mithrun pauses his conspiratory considerations. Tylor seemed inclined toward social gatherings, but he went off alone. Mithrun considers he may have been PK'd.

It may not really be his business, but he is one of the few Lord Partizans he knows. Area runs are more efficient with someone who can tank and DPS. This is just enough reason to decide to depart from where he stands and follow Tylor's path.

Mithrun's lost, as usual, but for once it's not so bad - he didn't know which way Tylor went anyway, so his own wandering takes him soon enough down the right alley by chance. He sees first the starry lights that fleck Justy's armor, and traces it up the dangling feet and traces them upward, seeing Justy, seeing somewhat - wistful? He looks a part of Lumina Cloth's night sky, right now.

Without word to alert Justy he's there, Mithrun grabs hold of the ledge (or whatever hold he can find) and hoists himself up and over it, plopping down into a sit beside him. He considers whether he should get up or not, but doesn't feel any want to.

He settles where he is, glancing at Tylor. )

... I saw you with Steaks.

( And, well, heard, but he'll leave that implied. )

[ Tylor doesn't notice Mithrun at first. Quiet steps are lost to the soft and artificial hum of an artificial city even if Tylor had been listening for it. Mithrun's subsequent ascension leaves little time for Tylor to react before he has company. It's coincidence that he glances over at the same time. He doesn't shy from eye contact, his smile turning a shade warmer once he fully realizes it's just Mithrun. ]

Oh. You did?

[ Is all he says at first, but there isn't any actual curiosity there for once. He sighs softly out into the brightly lit night, looking away again. It's a more amused release of air than anything negative. ]

Don't worry, love is nothing new. Besides, he's not really my type anyway.

[ He ends on a joke, a habit, but his tone is a fraction too heavy. He clenches and releases the hand that feels cold now. ]

I didn't expect you to follow me. But, thanks.

( His gaze flicks elsewhere. He hasn't done anything worth the gratitude - that's what Mithrun thinks, but he doesn't think it's worth going out of his way to reject the sentiment. To Tylor, him being here was a positive thing. Mithrun doesn't get why, but he gets that much. Tylor, even when melancholy, isn't instinctive for Mithrun to parse.

Tylor could probably use someone better here. Someone who knows comfort and how to offer it. Mithrun used to know that language, if only to put on airs, but he's since forgotten - and it wouldn't come natural from him, anyway. )

... Do you fall in love often?

( Do you get rejected often? That's a little how it sounded, when Tylor said love's nothing new. )

Edited 2023-08-08 10:25 (UTC)

I suppose I do. It just isn't always meant to be.

[ Tylor shrugs, speaking more to the stars without shame. ]

Don't you know what love feels like?

( He doesn't think mentioning his hypothesis about how he wonders if the confessions were compelled by the game would really make much difference. Both of them are, apparently, in the market of being chronically unpopular in love. )

... The first person I loved chose someone else to marry. The second found me unnerving, and broke up with me. And the third...

( Well, that was Leo, whether induced love or natural.

He wonders if he even really knew these people, though, or if the love came in as a word he put on his fixated attachment. He wonders if what he's felt has only ever just been infatuation - and not truly love. Would he have really learned to love them truly if they had only loved them back? He's skeptical. )

... You'd probably be happier with someone you got along with, though. Instead of someone you'd just met.

( Yael taught him so! )

[ Tylor is quiet through the Mithrun's list, rounded off with a soft hum. He assumes they were all from when the other was vain, not realizing how recent the mysterious third was.

It's hard to pin down the little reasons for every departure. He is irresponsible and he knows it, so he never faults anyone for leaving, whether it was their choice or not. Memories, the past, and his life before; those are the areas that Tylor recoils from lingering in. Though it's not that he ever truly forgets either. Bright spots of love and laughter are what stain the present and saturate the past; making it easy to ignore the grey patches that he's already made peace with.

But the last comment surprises a bubble of laughter out of him before he can ask. Brief yet cathartic, it puts the humor and warmth back into his voice for the moment. A return to the present where he belongs. ]

Oh, I agree. I don't think he liked me very much.

[ Tylor sighs again, a strange itch for affection festering with someone warm nearby. Unlike his usual movements, the slide of his hand between them is subtle. Palm up, he adds more quietly-- ]

I can still feel his hand though. Weird, isn't it?

[ He doesn't press it though, doesn't lose the warmth when he goes on regardless-- ]

What happened to the third?

Edited (Retaliation. (Jk I'm kidding dhdh)) 2023-08-08 13:03 (UTC)

That was this week. He rejected me.

( Probably a weird thing to hear from Mithrun, who's barely in tune enough with his surroundings to have a preference, never mind fall for someone - but here we are.

He feels the warmth of Tylor's hand near his first, and then the slightest brush of it. He hasn't really been in this situation before, but he can guess, maybe, what Tylor wants, and he finds he doesn't really mind either way.

He doesn't pull his hand away, and so naturally his hand brushes back beside his, settling there. Quiet permission, if Tylor wants it. )

... I think I used to be vain because I thought I was the only one I could trust to like me.

( In some oblique way, he's saying he gets what it's like to care about not being liked, in the same oblique way he's saying he knows what it's like to be rejected. He's not good at this. But Tylor's feelings aren't without some company. )

[ It's a weird enough timeline that Tylor snorts when he looks over at him again, but it's the soft sort as he quietly slips his hand into Mithrun's. Lacing their fingers casually like he had with Misteak's, Tylor settles as he starts to swing his feet a little. ]

Do you still miss him now?

[ Anyone else, and he would've thought they were joking. ]

Being vain sounds pretty lonely.

( He can't remember when the last time someone held his hand was. Maybe Sylvain, he thinks? In that briefest time that lasted, long before Fragment. Even then, there was an undercurrent of - tension. A sort of sense that it wasn't going to last, and it was sort of just for show. They were too much like each other, and staring into a mirror unnerved them.

Tylor isn't like him, though - the way he is now, the way he was then. He doesn't understand how Tylor thinks of feels, and he doesn't know if he especially needs or wants to.

But the feeling, he guesses, of their fingers interlaced, doesn't feel bad. It's something warm in this city of endless night. )

... I don't know. ( He doesn't know if he misses him. He doesn't know if he misses that brief spark of affection, or the concept of liking someone. He isn't sure. ) I'd already accepted I'd be be alone, though. I don't know why I confessed, in the end.

( Tylor hasn't accepted that much, though, he figures. )

Oh. I don't really know why I confessed either.

[ Tylor squeezes his hand, whatever that means, but it's gentle and undemanding. ]

Maybe we'll both end up alone or maybe we won't? There's no way to know where fate will take us. Besides, I don't think it really counts as being alone if you've got friends.

And being with someone that doesn't want you is no fun. [ Then more resolutely, peacefully as his eyes close-- ] People should live the way they want to

( His gaze drifts down to their hands, and it lingers there in quiet as Tylor talks. Gradually it drifts off, slowly settling on the light-speckled scenery ahead.

He returns a gentle hold of Tylor's hand in turn, a little less a passive recipient. Not quite a squeeze, not quite a grip, but something. )

... Do you get to live that way in reality, too? The way you want?

Why, of course I do.

[ There is no hesitation in answering that, clear and genuine as his hand is warm. ]

Whatever I want, the way I want to. I think everyone should live like that, whatever that means for them.

... I see.

Not everyone can. ( He missed the boat on that early on. ) But you're more likely to find someone moving at your pace than not, eventually.

( He doesn't think he buys very much that whole "maybe we'll end up alone" bit for Tylor - just look at him. It's more surprising he doesn't have a partner already. )

It's not easy for everyone. But yeah, I think anyone can.

[ He's optimistic about most things, but they almost always tend to be grounded in simple reality. Especially when it comes to himself. ]

Maybe. I'm nothing special though, no better than anyone else. And you're way prettier, so maybe you'll find someone before I do?

[ A surprisingly content exhale. ] It's really nice though, being in love.

I have the personality of an ashtray.

( Refuse and debris, in other words, and he says it without resentment or shame. He's just a bunch of dinner scraps from the Mithrun that used to be, whether or not that Mithrun was good or worth loving.

He doesn't think he wants a partner, either - in the general sense of wanting, and in the sense of his prognosis: he has a very short future ahead of him, and it will be by his own hand. )

No matter how love feels, you won't get far if you don't like yourself. ( He would know! ) I don't really care to recall most people, but I remember you. If you were just like anyone else, I wouldn't have come.

Maybe. But ashtrays still deserve love, if you ask me. Especially interesting ones.

[ Tylor pulls his hand between both of his own, drink discarded beside him somewhere. There's no attempt to tug him closer, close as the already are. But he cradles his hand like something important. ]

And I never said I don't like myself. I like being me, I wouldn't want to be anyone else. But that doesn't mean I'm better than anyone else either.

I don't regret any of my relationships. They were fun, our lives made richer. So it doesn't really matter how long they lasted. That time we had together mattered.

[ That gets Mithrun a real smile in his direction. ]

Yeah, that's why I thanked you.

If you act too humble, I'll hit you.

( Mithrun's intentions are good, even if his execution is, well, this. His gaze falls to where Tylor holds their hand in both of his - he doesn't pull it away, and he doesn't find any discomfort. It's just a little warmer, now.

Nothing Tylor says is bad, technically. Being humble can certainly be a virtue. But he's not gonna take Tylor pinpointing himself as some kind of average and saying Mithrun's got a better chance at romance. Tylor, frankly, is inoffensively weird - and that sets him just far enough out from the rest. )

... It's fine to say something selfish, if you want to. I'm the only one listening.

[ Tylor's laugh at that is the quiet kind that wells up in his chest but never quite escapes; shoulders shaking a little as he leans into for a gentle shoulder bump. ]

Alright, you can hit me whenever I deserve it.

[ He hums like he's thinking selfish thoughts. It takes a moment. ]

Well, I do like my eyes, my alcohol tolerance. I'm also pretty good at kissing and I'm not bad at games. What about you?

( Thanks for the greenlight because he absolutely will.

The qualities Tylor chooses to list sure are interesting, though. )

Games? ( Like... video games like this or party games, ) ... I don't have anything to say about myself, though.

( Pot, kettle? Maybe. He doesn't like or dislike himself strongly, except to consider his current state lesser. )

[ It's fine, this au needed someone that hits him regularly just like ou. ]

Yeah! Poker, chess, shogi, mario, uh, mobile games... [ He rattles them off excitedly at first, but gets distracted easily once his thoughts wander. ]

But if you haven't tried stuff recently, how do you know what you like now? Want to play sometime?

... Sure. Whichever one you want.

( Genuine, because he has no preference. He figures he'll be speed dating through them, so it doesn't matter too much what they start with. )

Alright!

[ Tylor sounds happy about it! But the moment he realizes that playing one of the things he mentioned means letting go of Mithrun's hand, it's written all over his face. ]

Hey, how about we play would you rather instead? Have you played it before?

I know of it. I won't be good at it, but I'm fine with playing it.

( He'll figure something out, Probably. He's not good with having preferences, which also means he's not going to say no to it.

He looks to Tylor, expecting him to start. )

Oh, that doesn't matter. It's about having fun and getting to know people.

[ Tylor assumes he'll start anyway so he just says whatever comes first after that-- ]

So, would you rather be snowed in or stranded on a beach?

does this work here??

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