EVENT MINGLE: PUTTING THE "FUN" BACK IN "FUNERAL" / HOLES

[asgardmods]

Who: EVERYONE
What: The Putting the "Fun" Back Into Funeral/Thistle Do Nicely Holes Event Mingle Log
When: Days 415-416 (March 9-12)
Where: all across the city!
Rating: PG-13. Anything higher than that should be taken to a private log, please!

Day 415 (Mar. 9/10)

Not long after the message from the gods on the bracelets, all NPC shops in town will begin shutting down. It is late evening when the city's Natives begin heading toward Gefion Park, some alone, some clustered in small groups, but it seems like citizens of Asgard of all ages are headed that way. It is just before sunset when all of the gods and several thousand natives will stand grouped around the shore of the park's lake. Thor, looking oddly somber, will move to stand on a small podium, voice tight but magically amplified. His posture is straight, head held high, and he will cut a striking image as he speaks with a firm and magically amplified voice:

"We may be the gods of this realm, but we would be nothing without both of you: our people, and our visitors. Even in times of darkness, we mustn't allow ourselves to forget how brightly our lights can shine. In times of weakness and exhaustion, we only need cling to the memory of how strong we truly are. We will fight for the lost, and we will fight for each other. Until my father returns, I will act in his stead. We will continue to move ahead, if only because there is too much to lose if we don't. Salvation is within our grasp, and I will do everything I can to make sure we attain it."

Here Thor will clear his throat, pausing just long enough to wonder how apparent it is that Freyr wrote most of this speech.

"But now I invite you to lay your offerings into the longboats, offerings to the Natives of this world that have lost their lives in this war. Their sacrifices were not in vain, nor shall they be forgotten. In their names, we shall fight for Asgard, and for every world represented here, and for the countless that aren't."

The moment that the newly crowned Prince Regent stops speaking, Natives will place clothes and food and other trinkets inside the boat. Any Traveller with offerings will be given the chance to lay them in the boat then, before Hel sends it off to the center of the lake. It will stall there before bursting into bright flame. Smaller, match-sized flames will light all across the lake, one for every native soul that has left Asgard for Niflheim in the last two years, and they will not extinguish even in the light rainfall that begins into the evening.

After the flames are lit, however, the natives will be opening several dozen casks of different wines, meads, and ales. There will be bottles of harder liquors passed around and glasses given freely to anyone within arm's reach of a native. Time for a bonfire in the park! Anything is free game for this: there will be dancing, eating, body painting, the weaving of flowers into people's hair or into crowns, pretty much anything that is loose and vaguely intimate. The only thing that remains undisturbed is the lake, where the fires burn ceaselessly above the water. This is their farewell; they will drink, tell stories, and laugh their way all through the night.

Day 416 ( Mar. 11/12 )

The next morning, most of the natives will still be in the park, making sure none of that pesky alcohol remains in those barrels. They will take this second day to relax and clean up the park while they continue to drink, singing hymns and generally lending a hand to one another. Where yesterday was a big party, this is more like communal R&R. About halfway through the day, flowers of all types imaginable will begin to sprout from the ground. Many of them will sing along with the Native's hymns of remembrance, though they will linger after.

This is actually our Holes event for the month of March! These flowers will not just sprout at Gefion Park, however! When they first appear on Day 416, they will actually spring up just about everywhere, dirt or not. They may appear on a table, off a wall, or rooted in someone's freshly prepared sandwich. The flowers not in dirt will wilt after about a day. Following their first appearance, these flowers will continue to grow in the city anywhere flowers can grow.

Back at the party, however, everyone is on equal footing and gathered to respect their loved ones. For the time being, nothing else really matters.

They'll go back to their regularly scheduled monotony by sundown, the boat of offerings finally removed from the lake, though the candlelight flames will remain throughout the night and disappear by sunrise. In thanks for their support and continued sacrifice, the Travellers will find one gift from home in their rooms at midnight.

[ OOC NOTES: This is the mingle log for the Putting the "Fun" Back in "Funeral" event AND for the Holes event. More information on this month's Holes event is located HERE. If you haven't had your character's GIFT FROM HOME approved yet, please make sure to do so here!

Please put [OPEN/CLOSED] in the title of your comment, along with the time and location. Let us know if you have any questions! ]

Comments

[sufferably]

He wanders over a little while after the festivities have started. He's more than enjoying the Asgardians' ale, but he hasn't overindulged. Instead, he lifts a brow at Evy and offers a smile.

"Not joining in on the party?"

[proudofwhatiam]

"I am!" she answers, giving him a half-hearted smile as she holds up her mead. The mead from which she's taken perhaps two or three sips. "Well...I'm trying, I suppose. It's hard to feel merry after a funeral."

[sufferably]

"I think maybe that's the point." To not dwell in the sadness, or something like it. McCoy's not entirely familiar; he usually drowns his sorrows and then stews in them for long periods of time.

[proudofwhatiam]

"I suppose so," she answers, shrugging. "It doesn't feel like much of a funeral this way, though. Are you enjoying yourself, at least?"

[sufferably]

He thinks about that, for a moment. "More than I was expecting to, yeah."

McCoy turns to consider the rest of the festivities.

"You sure you don't want to take part in the rest?"

[proudofwhatiam]

Evy glances over the rest, as McCoy calls it. Stripping naked, painting herself up, and dancing is right out, but that hardly needs stating. She's already got something to drink. So that leaves...well. "The, er, the flowers? I don't--" think so--"know..."

[sufferably]

McCoy downs the rest of his drink with a deliberate swallow and sets his cup aside. He looks at the flowers with something like a smirk.

"C'mon, now-- I think it'd look nice."

[proudofwhatiam]

Well, that's kind of him. She smiles, glancing down at her own drink. And then she has an idea. "I will if you will."

[sufferably]

"Um. Well, that is--"

He takes a step back, holds up his hands.

"It'd be, ah, more suited to you, I think."

[proudofwhatiam]

"Nonsense." She's really smiling now. This is quite possibly the best idea she's had all night. "I think it'd suit you. Blue, perhaps."

[sufferably]

His cheeks turn a furious shade of red. "I-- am really not drunk enough for this."

[proudofwhatiam]

"Neither am I," she answers, tipping her glass enough that he can see just how little she's had tonight. "But perhaps you're right. When in Rome..."

[sufferably]

"Say goodbye to your dignity," he mutters, reaching over to grab another glass from a native walking by. Then he looks back at Evy with a slightly-askew smile. "Well, let's go be diplomatic."

[proudofwhatiam]

"If you'd really rather not, we don't have to," Evy answers--but of course, even as she says it, she's leading the way over to the flower wreaths. She takes another sip of her drink and glances his way. "But it was your idea, Doctor..."

[sufferably]

"One of these days I'll learn to keep my mouth shut." But he's following her lead, anyway. The natives seem eager enough to welcome them into the circle of flower-weavers, and looking down at the piles of blossoms, he has to admit that they are beautiful.

[proudofwhatiam]

'The ability to weave flowers into passable crowns' is low on Evy's list of talents--really, really low. She's more than grateful to take one of the crowns that's already been fashioned into a loop, settling the ring of yellow flowers carefully atop her head. Once she pulls a few pins from the mass of curls knotted at the nape of her neck and uses them to pin the stems into her hair, she's set.

And as inappropriate as she still finds all of this, given the occasion, her mood is beginning to lift again. Perhaps this isn't such a bad idea after all.

Evy glances over at McCoy once she's certain her flower crown isn't going anywhere. "Do you need any hairpins?" The ones left in her bun are vital to keeping it in place, but she'd hardly be the only one wearing her hair loose if she had to donate them to the cause.

[sufferably]

He's not really sure what to do with himself, standing awkwardly as someone comes towards him with a handful of flowers that look like blue roses. He doesn't make the crown, himself-- his hands are steady but he does not have the skill for that, thank you very much. And before he really realizes it one of the weavers is cramming the thing onto his head despite his protests. It tilts at an odd angle, and he's pursing his lips against a torrent of complaints when Evy asks the question.

"Not much to clip them to," he manages to say, and that's true enough. And then, belatedly, "See, I was right. They do suit you."

[proudofwhatiam]

Evy's not all that used to compliments on her looks. Glancing down modestly, smiling perhaps a little too wide, is the best she can manage for a gracious answer. And then, with a teasing note to her voice, "They're rather nice on you, too. Perhaps you could wear them when you make your rounds."

[sufferably]

"Wouldn't want to distract the nurses with my charms," McCoy says. A moment later the flowers fall in front of his eyes and he's reaching up to readjust them. Which is definitely not something he'd ever thought he'd find himself doing.

[proudofwhatiam]

"Maybe you'll need some pins after all." Evy reaches out to help him push it back up. "I'm sure the nurses would get used to it. They're allowed their little caps, after all."

[sufferably]

"Caps?" They don't wear those in the future. The crown eventually settles, somewhat, and the party is still going strong behind them.

"Medbay fashion, that's what I'll be remembered for." He tries to grumble it, but it's half-hearted at best.

[proudofwhatiam]

"The little white ones," she answers, gesturing with one hand like she's adjusting one. Next thing you know, he'll act like the nurses he sees don't wear capes, either. "Crowns aren't so different. Rather fetching."

[sufferably]

"On some people." He'll half-agree, with that.

"Guess medical white has always been the norm, huh? At least some things don't change." Though half the time they wear blue, white is still their color. It's a little piece of stability he didn't expect.

[proudofwhatiam]

"If you go back far enough, you'll have plague doctors in black robes and masks." But if you think dialysis is barbaric, you really won't like the Black Plague, McCoy. She sips at her mead. "But I think it's usually white these days."

[sufferably]

"So what's the Egyptologist's uniform, then? Gold?" He squints, trying to imagine it.