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Post by Huohua on Apr 13, 2018 1:13:23 GMT
With night slowly approaching, activity was rising beneath the Gaochao District’s overpass, the pillars wrapped with multi-colored Fairy Lights strung from one to another, and music quietly humming from a small radio connected to a generator. With the ground solid and grass patches scattered across the area, trees surrounding the clearing, Huohua was fiddling with a makeshift air cannon located in the middle of the scene, her tail twitching as she sat crossed-legged beside several old boxes that contained explosive orbs, several with a unique color, and size.
She, dressed in her trench-coat and a blank white mask to conceal her face, was surprised at the outcome of people attending her makeshift party, which was great considering she was planning to launch several fireworks into the ceiling, nothing that could threaten its integrity, but enough to leave some scorch marks or scratches.
Though, she wondered if they just had nothing better to do with their time.
Huohua pushed herself up from the air cannon with a grunt, tail dragging along the ground as she sat the cannon down and dusted off her legs. The primitive contraption would make-do as a launcher, though she hadn’t tested its strength with one of her explosives yet, shrugging the risk off as unlikely. Regardless of risks in general, she stretched her arms upward and back, and gradually welcomed some of the attendees while giving out some pretty simple rules, incase anyone got ideas about ruining the fun or handling her explosives… Though, she was pretty sure unless they threw them, they would be fine. Some of the attendees actually had brought stuff to spice the party up, folding tables and chairs, games, and food that was either ordered or homemade.
She should’ve called this a potluck, they brought more food than anything else.
Or, maybe not. The person with the username Infect1on had arrived earlier and was slowly replacing her radio with what seemed to be better equipment in which she was grateful for, reminding herself that she’d have to get her name at some point for future reference and thank her personally. Besides her, If Huohua remembered correctly, that left White and Cloud to arrive as well, and she wondered if they would bring other unique items then food, although Cloud mostly just mentioned something about food in their fridge… Oh. Huohua realized that’s what she asked for first, no wonder it was almost like a potluck.
Well, I hope everyone hasn’t had dinner yet.
Letting out a sigh, she shrugged the realization off, going with what she got as she led and helped the new attendees to set up the tables and chairs, and put the food and even some drinks on them, most of it just bottled water or soda. When that was done, the others were being to conversate with each other socially and some with increasing excitement, while Huohua made it a point to check up on who she knew as Infect1on.
At this point, Huohua was pretty sure, possibly, that this person wasn’t new to playing music with all the pro-like equipment they had set up so far.
“…So, how’s it going Infect1on?” Huohua asked with her medium ranged, raspy voice, her tail visibly swinging from side to side in anticipation as she came to stand in-front of set. She was actually somewhat excited by the setup done so far, and hoped they were almost ready to switch from the radio to actual music. "...Think it'll be ready soon?"
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Post by Becky (Viral) on Apr 13, 2018 23:12:23 GMT
Becky was smiling to herself as she was getting the last few bits of her tech together. This hadn't been her first concert, and it wasn't going to be her last by any means. Of course, she was known to the others today as Infect1on only. She liked to keep her Viral nickname for those special occasions. Those occasions would...well, those would likely come later on in the future. For now, she just needed to party like she loved it.
"Oh yeah, definitely! I just need to get a few things ready." Her Irish accent stood out but her face was changed up just for the party. Blue face paint, bright orange hair, rainbow contact lens, heck she was going all out like she always could. Becky was always a party girl...even if she didn't need to be, but that was besides the point.
"Okay so..we shouldddd be good!" She smiled as her computer booted up and she started playing some of her signature music. Electronic beats soon started flowing from the speakers as Becky grinned happily, leaning back and just listening. She didn't know for sure how many people would be coming but all she cared about was having a fun time. That was part of what made her tick after all, trying to make sure that you can get fun out of just about anything.
"I can always switch songs if you get tired of anything. This is your party after all." Becky smiled to herself, looking around and taking in the whole room. This wasn't like the raves that she had djed at obviously, but she still felt like she had to give it her all.
She hopped up, walking over and grabbing a soft drink, popping the tab and soon taking a drink. Sugar always helped her get through the night, especially party nights.
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nooch
Beyond Human
Posts: 2
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Post by nooch on Apr 15, 2018 6:59:22 GMT
Even as a superstar, without reservations Bartek didn't find it right to use his influence to swindle his way into the busy restaurant he intended to eat at. When the line was visibly outside the door he'd take a left at the intersection in search of some other place to get a bite to eat. As he continued to walk he'd turn his head from side-to-side looking at both sides of the street to find somewhere not packed or not yet closed. He could find none that would have suited his taste buds for that night. He craved something other than noodles and he wasn't finding it. His feet would continue to shuffle along the sidewalk with no particular goal other than a meal.
Along his work he would begin to hear the thumping of electronic bass. It'd pull his attention and he'd follow the noise arriving at a makeshift party. The music certainly wasn't his taste, he preferred something a little slower, a lot more guitar, and lyrics to begin with. He hadn't intended to stay, but a hungry stomach and the showing of food was more than tempting. He'd join the small congregation picking up a plate to dress with the many courses that had been brought. As he was going about his business a few of the attendees would approach him asking him for pictures and autographs.
While he appeased the first few to approach him, he began turning people down in hopes of finally getting onto his meal. He'd be lead to a large round table with many chairs around it being sat there by one of the many people around. Time was eaten up by mild chatter and face-stuffing until Bartek had realized his plate was emptied. His eyes would wander around the faces of the guests, the props of the party, and then eventually the DJ. He'd excuse himself, standing up from the table and approaching the perch of the DJ.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he'd yell loudly, the speakers being so close deafening his voice out a bit. "I was wondering if by any chance you could play something a little more.. rock?" He'd ask. He was unsure whether they would be inclined to go through with his request, this was a party after all and they had to do their best to continue suiting the tastes of the majority of those present. He'd look up patiently waiting for a response from the DJ as he felt the thumping bass of the music reverberate in his chest.
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Post by Thundercrack on Apr 17, 2018 13:24:39 GMT
Amani had always loved parties. She had also always claimed she was the life of them, but a teenager’s social anxiety usually stopped that from being actually the case. Most of the time, Amani just clung to the walls and corners, pretending that she wasn’t there. She didn’t go to many parties. The last party she went to was her own birthday party, and even then she tried to pretend she didn’t exist. And so, well past curfew, she sat in her bedroom, face buried in her pillow, cell phone open in front of her. It's at Pak Po Tai Park around 9. Bring food. The phone cast a sick-looking blue-white glow on her face as she looked up at the screen, those words frozen in electronic stasis. “Well,” she murmured, “guess I better get ready.” Amani slithered out of bed, slipping into her (Oh, I get it, that’s why they’re called-) slippers, trying to make as little noise as possible as she snuck out of her room. She heard a thump from somewhere in the dark apartment, and heard the telltale jingle-jingle of her dog’s tags rattling as she approached. Amani knelt down, holding out her hand, trying to lull her dog back to sleep. “Shh! Shh, Jia. Go lay down.” Jia was not laying down. Amani stood up and Jia responded in turn. She jumped up, her paws on Amani’s shoulders, licking her face. “Go- Hey. No. Down- Jia. Jia. No.” Jia finally stood down, standing across from Amani, tail wagging. She looked up at her through the dim, big brown eyes silently pleading with her owner for attention. “Jia,” Amani warned. Amani, her dog seemed to say back. “Go lay down,” she commanded once again. Take me with you, Jia’s eyes said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not going anywhere,” the girl murmured. You were going to bring food to that party, Jia’s eyes reminded her. I want some. “What?” I want to be fed. Dummy. There was a substantial pause before Amani next spoke. “Why am I talking to my dog…?” Jia didn’t answer. She just wagged her tail, staring up at her with those big brown eyes. --- Amani checked her phone: 9:18 PM, 37% battery. She stepped back and away from the meta-human transport service that she relied on so much, (she gets discounts sometimes) and the man thanked her once, then disappeared in a flash of light. Teleportation was a handy power, and one that some ingenious fella managed to get very wealthy with. She had been told that it sometimes got difficult, like when transporting more than one person, or, in this case, a young girl and her golden retriever. She gave Jia a pat on the head. Thanks for coming, Amani said, but with her eyes, trying to laser beam the message into her dog’s noggin. I’m here for the food and the attention, Jia laser beamed back. Amani scowled. Typical. She wandered for barely a minute through the park, unsure of where she was or where to go. She wasn’t as familiar with Hong Kong as she’d like to be. “Is this the right place…?” As-if to answer her own question, the distant thrum of party music filled her ears. She followed the sound, and stepped under the overpass. She waved sheepishly to the party-goers, a store-bought box of very western cinnamon rolls under one arm. “Hey. Uh, hi, guys. Good to… be here…” her voice was hard to hear above the DJ’s music, resigning herself to an inside voice in an outside environment. It was clear that this small girl with the big dog was Cloud9 - she could be recognized by her frequent selfies and pictures of her dog, and she had brought both her face and her dog, conveniently. She seemed entirely too unlike her online persona when in person. It was true what they said: you could pretend to be anyone you wanted on the Internet, and Amani Hasan was a pretender. She was actually just really lame, and not cool at all. At least her dog looked like she was ready to party.
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Post by Huohua on Apr 23, 2018 17:10:44 GMT
“That’s great!” Was Huohua’s exhilarated response, her mask concealing her ever-so widening grin. She hadn’t been expecting Infect1on’s completion so soon and simply assumed it would take longer then what infect1on had proven otherwise, leaving Huohua extremely thankful for the generosity of her newly found acquaintance. Yet even with the reassurance, Huohua waited for the completion of Infect1on’s goal and remained at her musical booth, going around the station and observing her work come full circle. Within minutes there was music pulsing from what would’ve been dormant speakers several minutes ago, the party finally coming alive as Huohua’s radio was overrun by Infect1on’s music, drowning in electronic beats swarming the clearing and invading the ear of all who would listen.
She moved to lift her mask only partially, revealing a large smile and a thumbs-up to accompany it. “You’re so awesome, thank you!” She called over the music. Though, as her eyes combed the clearing, she noticed it wasn’t just the speakers pulsing with activity now, the clearing was also beginning to spike with movement, as some were overcome with the sudden urge to break into a dance, others just becoming livelier in general.
She couldn’t help but think that there was nothing like music to set someone in a party mood, pulling the mask back over her mouth. “Sounds good, let me know if someone wants to change it up, however, some house music might be good to add to the queue after this.” She called loudly, trying to be heard over the music. She gave infect1on the last thumbs-up before drifting somewhere else, reviewing the participants that had joined while she was occupied. She nearly had her feathers ruffled when she spotted a superstar on the premises, almost expecting him to try to shut down her ‘somewhat’ illegal party. Thankfully he was preoccupied with eating and approaching the music booth, and seemingly looked to be enjoying himself.
There was also a participant with a dog, which she was surprised that someone would bring a dog to a firework party of all things, except upon closer inspection she realized it was Cloud, someone that if she remembered correctly from the internet, was extremely loud with what she assumed was her power. She wasn’t sure if she should feel bad for the poor dog, or if it was a good thing for the dog to be immune to loud noises. It was a tough call.
Though in her conclusion, she believed the dog should be fine, and cloud wouldn’t have bought it otherwise was her final thought on the matter, brushing off the concern and making a B-line for her radio. She was almost there through casual walking until she stopped to watch new arrivals bring in new food, said food being… Actually, quite good-looking compared to some dishes, almost as if someone had straight-up cooked it here and served it like a five-star restaurant… Maybe not that good though, but still.
She had a feeling several guests would be five pounds heavier by the end of the night.
With one last detour, being a minor observation of a fire-bender on the premises, she reached the quietly humming radio and shut it off, the last of its quiet song coming to a halt, and silence taking over. She almost felt bad for the tiny device, being outshone by better equipment, but it was just a radio, a small, old tool that wasn’t good enough for the role she needed it to play, even if it did do its best.
“I think I’ll keep you at home from now on.” She muttered, packing the radio up and setting it aside from the generator, picking up her staff instead. With one last look, she finally returned to her makeshift air-cannon and the boxes that still remained, almost stumped as she realized this thing she had created could only launch one orb compared to her, and she could probably do it with much more style, as well.
She pushed the contraption away with her foot, moving it aside and working to move the boxes in a circular design in the center where they were. She would do the launching herself, it was much simpler that way, as was moving the boxes since her explosive orbs only weighed so much.
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Post by thelaughingman on Apr 24, 2018 13:55:38 GMT
To say that Lang was uncertain about this strange party he had been invited to was an incredible understatement, but the chance to make contacts could not be ignored so he ignored the fluttering anxious pit in his stomach. He had a nasty habit of dramatically overstating little issues in his head before this sort of thing occurred. As a result of this worry he approached the desk of the MetaTransportation reception with two brown bags that produced the tell-tale light clinking noise of glass on glass.
Fortunately their exchange was a brief one and he paid for the express service of meta-translocation. It was definitely more expensive, but considering his modest accommodation and lifestyle thus far lavish expenditure that furthered his mission would be seen as an acceptable use of his monthly stipend from the temple. It was not the most "traditional" means of proliferating his religion and philosophy on the surface, but the truth was it was a true and tried method through the ages and any arguments to the contrary were simply delusional.
He followed the receptionist's directions and entered a room down the hallway after the transaction had been made then tapped his knuckles lightly against the plain metal door. The entire structure was rather streamlined and minimalistic in great contrast to the method of travel that was utilized at this business. <Perhaps they wish to let their actions speak for themselves.> It was a deceptively clever business move on the part of MT, he thought. In a world where people were still not entirely comfortable with neither the prospect of Metahumans nor their impact upon all facets of their life it could be detrimental to potential clientele base if they were too flashy in their advertisement and presentation.
"Come on in!" A feminine voice responded from within. Lang opened the door and was greeted by youthful woman likely half-way into her thirties. The room itself was bare save for a single meditation mat upon the floor- Another intelligent move on part of the decorators because too much decor could mean a loss of concentration and he shuddered to think what a power mishap could mean for a customer.
Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and fastened with a band of leather embellished with beads at the ends. She wore form-fitting clothes that accentuated her curves and even added a bit of youth in their playfulness. The woman regarded Lang with a knowing grin as she spotted the bags between both arms and waves a finger, "Ah, ah, ah- Don't tell me.." She cocked an eyebrow playfully and asked, "Pak Po Tai, eh?"
Lang nodded sheepishly in return and was thankful for his mask as a sudden flush burned his cheeks. Indeed he must look quite the spectacle to these people that had mistaken him as a performance artist summoned mid-scene from a period drama. The woman had not seemed to be teasing him directly, but it had indirectly fed one of those niggling 'notions' that he blew out of proportion as he tried to analyze and prepare for chaotic scenarios.
She snapped her fingers and nodded to him before settling down onto the mat and crossing her legs. He noticed for the first time that she had a light sheen of perspiration and seemed to be breathing heavily, "Ah, yeah. Knew it. You kids are wearing me out, but it's great for business." She patted the mat beckoning him to kneel next to her and once he obeyed the command of her gestures the room grew silent and he began to feel strange like he never had before. He regretted not reading the pamphlet in full since it had been enough that his safety was guaranteed.
The room seems to be growing father away as though he were lifting into the sky or perhaps his eyeballs were receding back into his skull. His entire body began to feel weightless and combined with the optical phenomenon he was experiencing it felt as though he were drifting out into space unfettered by the restraints of his physics. For a moment everything was dark and he blinked trying to regain his sight. The onset of the effects were slow, but the return to his senses was harsh. Bright multi-colored fairy lights were shining around him, music was blaring from a crudely constructed radio, and the return of gravity tried to buckle his knees causing the bags in his arms to clack against one another.
Lang glanced around at the gathered people and shifted his grip to the bottles of alcohol he had purchased allowing the bags covering them to fall to the ground. He would pick them back up later because littering was immoral. "I heard there was a party?"
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Post by Becky (Viral) on Apr 27, 2018 21:36:30 GMT
Becky smiled underneath all of her makeup and facepaint, nodding at Huohua as she kept the music going. She couldn't help but giggle and give a thumbs up in return to her as she nodded "Will do, don't worry!" She took a moment to look around the room and take in the party. "Can do!" Becky nodded as she acknowledged Bartek's request and switched the music to something a bit more rock themed. Still with her own electronic touch but more fitting with the request. She walked back to her setup, watching everyone come in. Cloud popping in, catching sight of Sanchir and his food and...Lang quite literally popping in, must've been one of the transportation types that had teleportation. Viral sighed as she took a seat at the chair she had set up, letting the playlist just do it's thing and run through all of the rock related songs that were on it. "This is going fairly well...not much of a paying gig but hey, it's fun." She said to herself, watching alcohol being poured out and food being eaten. Becky had a good amount of snack food before the party, so she wasn't exactly super hungry. Everything seemed to be going just as she hoped. People were dancing and having a good time, even dancing to some of the older songs that were on the playlist. She knew that it would be best for her to stay away from the alcohol until the tail end of the party at the very least. Viral doing her gig while being drunk was...well the last time it happened she ended up getting a computer screwed up and at least two or three busted sets of tech, it was a long story. Anyways, she had a party to focus on, gotta keep the music going!
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nooch
Beyond Human
Posts: 2
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Post by nooch on Apr 30, 2018 21:01:30 GMT
The new beats played from the speakers were closer to what Bartek enjoyed, but they weren't what he'd intended exactly. Nonetheless, he could deal with it. They had at least accepted his request in some form. His eyes would glance around the party and nothing particularly interesting caught his eye. There were young adults, alcohol, and food as far as the eye could see. There were likely some teenagers spread out among the crowd, but that was nothing too terribly concerning to him. Sure, minors drinking wasn't a particularly good thing, but it's not as if that was the intention of the host. It'd be fine until things got out of hand.
Some of the newly arrived folks which caught his eye was a young girl who had brought her dog along. The folks surrounding her seemed to be giving the dog more attention than her. He wasn't particularly interested, he was much more of a cat person than a dog one.
Others who caught his eye were the person who talked to the DJ, whom he assumed to be the host, and an unknown man who had been gripping two bottles of liquor. While he'd seemingly came out of nowhere, he was probably just another one with the crowd bringing his part to the party. It was probably expected of him to have done that too.
Whoops.
Hoping to find company he'd approach the girl who had brought her dog. With all of the attention going to the dog, and the both of them appearing to have come alone, maybe they would be willing to talk for a while? He'd make his way through the crowd doing his best to not push over the stumbling drunks.
"Hi there, how goes your night, Miss? The food's over there if that's what you're looking for by chance," Bartek would point in the direction of the folding tables sprawling with deliveries, store-bought items, and home-cooked meals.
"Noticed that you brought the dog and thought that you could probably use some company too."
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Post by Thundercrack on May 7, 2018 4:07:32 GMT
Here she was, shivering in a chilly Hong Kongian late afternoon even through three layers of clothes, because China didn't need to get this cold. Why did China need to get this cold? Why does nobody appreciate how cold she is? Sure, she's lived in China her whole life, but she was from Afghanistan, and at some point down the line, her resistance to cold didn't get the "I've never actually been to Afghanistan" memo.
Anyway.
People were talking to her.
When did that happen?
Amani looked up at the man who, at first glance, looked to be about as wide as he was tall. She did not like that. She did not like that, standing before her, was a person that could probably bend her into a pretzel. And he was asking about her dog.
Jia wagged her tail.
Amani swallowed.
"Yeah, she's really friendly. Just, sometimes, when she gets too excited, she..." Amani trailed off, unsure of how to phrase the rest of her sentence. The dogowner cast a look to the dog, who laid down on the ground next to her, legs tucked in. With her tongue lolling out of her mouth in one huge old dog yawn, Jia set her head down between her paws. Jia made it woefully clear that there was no risk of her becoming too excited, at the very least. Amani kinda-sorta shrugged, just a little, and finished off the rest of her sentence. "...floats."
She let that hang for a second. She looked at Jia.
Yeah.
She looked at her feet.
Yeah.
C'mon Amani, you're better than this. You gotta stop being the nervous and awkward girl. You're confident. You're cool. You're a hurricane. You're a meteor. You're a scorpion in a can. You're Thundercrack. Say something cool.
"How? We fought a meta-beast and won."
She folded her arms, nodding. Yeah, that made it sound cool. The truth behind the tale is she fished the meta-beast/meta-rodent out of the river and it flipped out once she brought it home and got away.
But technically, she won that fight.
But Thundercrack faded back into her subconscious once she noticed a second person approaching her. No, no, no. I need you right now. Get back here. Please. Please come back. But Thundercrack did not come back, and Amani was alone. She gulped.
"H-Hey," nice stutter, idiot, "Uh, why would I need company? I brought Jia," she said, gesturing at Jia, "and food," she said, gesturing at the box of cinnamon rolls under her arm.
Awkward.
"Gonna go put these on the table now. The food table. Where the food goes." Nailed it.
With that, Amani pushed Jia's leash into the hands of the big fella who showed up first, and waddled away towards the food table, disappearing into the crowd.
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Post by Huohua on May 9, 2018 2:51:45 GMT
“Defeat was inevitable Mr. Anderson.” Huohua murmured to the boxes, proud of her accomplishment of a perfect, hollow cylinder. Though while perfection wasn’t one of her traits, she found it satisfying how she had lined each box right at the corner of one another, moving them to what she thought to be 45-degree angles, though she wasn’t a mathematical genius when it came to guessing geometry. She made it a point to finally sit down, choosing a random box in the direction of interesting chatter that filled her ears, most prominently the dog on the premises. With a hand reaching for the staff that simply rested beside her, she brought it forward and leaned into the staff as a stabilizer, it’s end dug into the ground for security.
There was no way she was going to walk all the way over there to be in better earshot, she didn’t know da wae to interact with a dog anyhow. Plus, she was perfectly satisfied and unwilling to move after what most would consider simple labor, moving boxes filled with volatile explosives should they reach a high enough velocity… Oh, wouldn’t it be funny if one of the boxes was just randomly thrown into the roof and just took the entire highway out above them? No, no it would not. She should’ve put warning labels on half of these at least…
Wait, that’s what the caution tape was for.
Huohua had brought some for the exact reason she had just thought about, but it was also beside the generator, and she really, really didn’t feel like getting up from her extremely comfortable position, even if the box below her seemed to sport no cushioning. An internal war raged within her mind as she thought about safety, and then the comfort of just sitting there, not doing anything… Yeah, she wasn’t getting up, she was just going to sit there with her staff and hit people over the head if they tried anything funny, unless they blew her up before then, which, she highly doubt anyone here besides her was strong enough to actually throw an explosive orb hard enough to activate, and even then she had to rely on her staff to even achieve such a velocity.
Or was there? Huohua was aware that there was, in-fact, meta-humans scattered across the clearing, though besides certain ones, she wasn’t sure who, and she was both too unwilling to ask, and concerned that some would be self-conscious about sharing their ability, unlike her. She was literally throwing a party about her ability that could replicate fireworks… Man, she could totally make a-
No. NO.
Huohua almost burst out laughing, two thoughts colliding as she watched Cloud toss some guy her dog’s leash and waddled toward a food table, absolutely just leaving the poor man to fend for himself with someone else’s dog. What happened to man’s best friend or wait, dog’s best friend!
She couldn’t make out what the man thought of his new predicament, but she was still on the verge of bursting out laughing, a shushed “PFFT” emitting from her mouth, hand reaching under her mask to prevent the noise from being heard. Rest in peace!
What else was going on besides that she wondered, there was people eating at the table, people wanting to pet the dog, and some just… Uh, well, she wasn’t sure but they were seemingly providing entertainment. Nice- Wait. WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAAAAAIIIITTT …There was a guy just over there, seemingly new as they just stood there possibly confused, as if they didn’t know that this was the party… Ouch, nice clothes though, looks like the fancy type.
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Post by thelaughingman on May 11, 2018 2:58:00 GMT
This chaotic mess was far from a proper formal meeting and that meant there was only one true way to acclimate himself to the social environment. Lang surveyed the party-goers with a lopsided smile as he reached up to his mask and flicked the hidden switch to activate his voice modulator. It was a simple little mechanism at the mouth of the wooden construct that distorted his vocal patterns and made them more robotic. It was a pragmatic design decision since it would prevent his voice from being sampled.
He searched around the tables lined with various junk food, hors d'oeuvres, and the plentiful seas of liquor until he found a suitable spot to call his stage, a relatively empty surface with a cheap tablecloth thrown over it. Lang sets his two bottles upon the mostly empty table and reached into his robes to produce a twenty-four pack of plastic shot glasses in neon colors. With a rvief hiss the first bottle was open. It was time to reveal the first of his three hidden powers: Bartending.
Back at the school it was practically a necessary part of formal discourse to imbibe as to loosen the body, mind, and spirit to whatever enlightenment may came, but the masters were as fond of their drink as they were of having someone else pour it for them. There Lang was tested time and again to hone his abilities lest he face the occasional off-handed comment and gentle mockery were he to spill even a drop. The stakes were higher back then: One little blow to his developing sense of security in his self is all it would have taken to create a full blown teenage existential crisis of self. He had walked through the fire and flames, or in this case the porcelain cups and liquor bottles, and prevailed a warrior. A hero. An amateur bartender.
With deft motions he began to line the little shot glasses into eight neat little rows containing three glasses each. He pops the top off of his bottle of Baijiu then with unmatched skill and precision begins to pour in one continuous motion, his hand dipping and rising to control the flow and stem it as needed between to glasses to prevent waste whilst maintaining a look of showmanship. At the end there is ne'er a single drop spilled upon the tablecloth and all the glasses are full.
There was however a particularly strange drawback to this amazing power he had awakened in himself. The more alcohol he imbibed the less able he became at keeping his hands still and precise during the process. Over time the alcohol would make his motor functions sluggish and unresponsive, time became hard to judge, and his cheeks would become very flushed. It was a dangerous and cruel curse that he might be scorned by the very object he controlled so well, but such was the universe's love of irony.
With a wave of his hand he began to draw the ambient temperature from the alcohol into his own body bringing them down to an icy temperature as his own body heat began to rise in response. His robe was designed with an open flowing look on purpose to aid him in the release of this heat over time, but he had better plans for making a scene. He was going to display the other two of his three abilities here in one fell swoop. He shifted his focus to the night air above taking in more and more heat which he began to distribute to his left arm.
The measured units of alcohol were at perfect drinking temperature now so he grasped one with his right hand then tosses it back allowing the liquid to slide right down his throat. He smacks the plastic cup against the table, raises his left arm toward the sky, and begins to concentrate. He could feel the power welling up he just had to remove the cap off of it gently.. Slowly.. Don't allow it to explode.
He began to channel it and..
A plume of light-blue flames erupted from his hand brightening the night-time sky and drawing attention to his little drinking game. All of his powers had been revealed now if not the entirety of how they worked or what they were. Bartending, temperature manipulation, and drinking. As the flames disappear he enthusiastically shouts, "GANBEI!"
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Post by Becky (Viral) on May 15, 2018 3:30:24 GMT
Becky kept it up with the music, watching everyone interact with each other. She couldn't help but keep an eye on what Huohua was doing, unsure what the crates might have in them. She cared about party safety, so she probably should check on that later. She wasn't paying the dog too much attention, there was always one at every one of these outdoor parties, no big whoop.
"Let's see...might as well check a few things while the playlist is going..."
She had moved out of all of the rock songs that were requested, adding in a few extra but slowly mixing in more of her trademark electronic beats once again. She soon turned her attention to Lang, watching as the modified drinking game was underway. The powers were..very intriguing to say the least. She never saw alcohol get tossed around like this before. And she had seen bottles getting tossed around in a weird bar fight between some glass powered people before. Don't ask, complicated story.
Becky looked over at Amani for a second before taking a chug of her soda, giving her an extra sugar rush to keep the party going. That was the one thing she loved about this, she had gotten used to drinking so much caffeine to keep her going she wouldn't crash for hours on end! ...Of course when she DID crash that meant she'd be out for hours on end but that was besides the point. She had to keep the party going! Just have to pick out a few new tracks...
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Post by Thundercrack on May 23, 2018 15:47:15 GMT
Amani navigated poorly through the (admittedly, not as thick as she had initially believed) crowd, bumping into nearly every partygoer in her path. Every bump elicited a “Sorry,” every stumbled was met with a choked “Excuse me,” and she even awkwardly stepped in between a pair of dancers, meeting their confused glares with a “Wow, I really want to die.”
She hustled awkwardly along, clutching her cinnamon rolls close to her chest. She attracted the attention of several hungry partygoers; western treats such as cinnamon rolls were often considered a commodity unless you knew where to find them. There was a humble bakery near where she called home, a family of Swiss immigrants, and a family that has become quite used to Amani’s frequent visits. After an incident when she was twelve in which she tried to sneak in after dark and pilfer as many delectables as she could have ever wanted and got caught, the family made her pay off her debt by working in their bakery.
Time passed, and Amani became known as a close friend of the family. She gets discounts, sometimes.
These cinnamons rolls were an example of not one of those times. She had to pay all the way.
While the phrase “all the way” is on the brain, Amani dimly realized that she had arrived all the way at the meager food table. With a humble smile, she set the plastic container of four cinnamon rolls down onto the cheap tablecloth. There wasn’t that much food besides her own. Typical, Amani glumly thought. So many people came, but so few of them actually brought anything to the table.
The metaphorical table, of course. The literal table is important, too, but it’s not part of the discussion right now.
Amani cast a look over her shoulder, vaguely identifying the spot where she started from, on the edge of the crowd, with the handful of strangers that spoke to her, and the kind fellow that she swears she’s seen somewhere before who pointed her in the right direction.
Well, she was here, at the food table. She might as well grab something to munch on.
She took a cheap plastic cup and helped herself to the cheap punch, but the thought briefly crossed her mind that her fellow hip and happening partygoers might like some too. She awkwardly fumbled with the available cups, filled up an extra two, and had to carry four cups of punch: one for her, one for the big guy, one for the nice guy, and one for her dog.
“Sorry.”
“Excuse me.”
“Pardon me.”
“I’m sorry.”
When she thought that she had been lost to the crowd, Amani locked eyes with her old dog. She picked up her pace, but a bit of punch splashed over the side of her cups, and she promptly slowed back down.
“I’m back!”
Jia lazily rose to her feet, tail slowly swaying back-and-forth, tongue lolling out of her mouth. She glanced back at Sanchir, brown eyes silently thanking him for the pets while Amani was gone.
Or something.
Jia turned back to Amani, stretched out her legs, and lifted off of the ground. Jia’s legs moved as-if she were submerged in water, kicking her legs and slowly propelling herself through the air. She orbited Sanchir once, tangling her leash on the man, then swooped upwards.
Amani panicked, briefly fearing that Jia would take off and disappear on a quest to the moon, but couldn’t take hold of the old dog’s leash, since her hands were full. She quickly passed cups of punch to both Sanchir and Bartek with a “Here you go! Got cups. You like punch? I hope so,” then held out a third cup, stretching towards her dog. “Here, girl!”
Jia sniffed the cup, and, almost contemptfully, surged forward and licked Amani’s face.
“Bleh,” she said, spoken like a true scholar. There was an invisible smile behind Jia’s big brown eyes, and she slowly lowered herself to the ground, arthritically laying down on top of Amani’s feet.
Which, of course, meant that Amani was paralyzed and could never move from this spot again. She took a sip from her cup, speaking over the rim. “Parties, right? They kinda suck.”
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Post by Huohua on May 28, 2018 2:50:55 GMT
The fancy man proceeded to be an interesting case for observation, her attention dropped from cloud’s floating pup despite her curiosity to turn back to it, and to him. She wasn’t exactly happy with the introduction of liquor to the party but hell, she didn’t have any rules against it so, what the heck could go wrong that she couldn’t resolve? Of course, nothing, so she watched awhile longer, discovering that the fancy man also had what appeared to be bartending skills, how interesting. She nearly got up to inspect the activity taking place when her phone went off with a classic alarm, signaling it was time to turn up the heat.
She smiled, finally having the motivation to get off her lazy behind and get ready. She stood up from her perch and threw her staff into the center of the boxes, making a quickened walk for the caution tape and doing the same as she returned, getting the assistance of others to help wrap the boxes in caution tape. They were quickly done as two party-goers who offered assistance with the wrapping were careful not to cover the lids, but put enough to make it look fragile and important so that people avoided messing with her junk in the first place.
While she was still on the outside of the circle, she also made it a note to approach infect1on about the music, calling out to her “Hey, turn it down for a few minutes, would you? You can turn it back up when I’m done talking and things go boom!” in a rushed manner, before heading back to the circle without getting a confirmation.
Stage one had been set up, now it was time for stage two, the revelation.
She jumped over one of the boxes, way more movement then she personally enjoys doing, and picked up her thrown staff, beginning to move with the rhythm of the music as she flipped each lid off the wrapped boxes, revealing what seemed to be hundreds of glowing, almost smoking orbs stored in each box, several hours of work on Huohua’s part, but certainly was worth it in the end. She was going to now start this display off with a bang, her staff locking onto one of the many orbs as she began to swing it to gain velocity while smoke-like particles were left in its wake, Huohua swinging it upward in a powerful launch, the golden explosion large enough that it would draw the attention of the party attendance. “May I have your attention please!” She called loudly, hoping the music had lowered enough for her to be heard clearly, “I hope you’re ready for some sweet, loud explosions, because here we go!”
Stage three was right on cue, her staff reaching for another orb as she quickly launched it after the final word, getting some awe of the pretty explosions.
Meanwhile, hopefully, she could rely on Infect1on to keep up on her side, but even if she didn’t the explosions would take over the clearing’s volume. Huohua started to grab multiple orbs with her staff as if they were drawn to her channeled power, easily being swung into the air and into the ceiling as explosions went off against it, some of them delayed, others unique as glitter and other forms of party outputs were released from them. The music should be back at this point.
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Post by thelaughingman on Jun 2, 2018 9:12:11 GMT
Lang's head was beginning to swim and his inhibitions began to float away on the sea of alcohol he had just consumed. A couple of other party-goers had joined him in his revelry thus resulting in one empty bottle of cheap sake. As his social barriers dissolved he found himself laughing louder and more frequently at the casual banter shared between those gathered around his drinking game. He was in the middle of a bit of ribbing when Huohua's voice rang out with the mention of explosives.
His head turned to face her, glassy eyes staring from behind his mask to where she stood on the podium. Her words echoed sluggishly in his mind. Fireworks.. Fireworks.. Fireworks.. Until finally he was mouthing the word repeatedly as it bounced around in his cranium. A hidden smile played on his lips and a fist shot in the air as he began to cheer, "Hell yeah, fireworks!"
The others who had joined his roguish debauchery had mistaken his attempt at comprehension of the word and its meaning for the beginnings of a chant. The echo had not merely been his mind wrapping itself around the word, but the repeated utterances from those around him as they joined in the repetition borne of miscommunication.
"Fireworks! Fireworks! Fireworks!"
Meanwhile those who had not joined in the chant were still pouring out drinks and inviting others who came by from the snack table to friendly drinking games. Lang's heart was torn for a moment as the liquor began to stir something deep within his core. His stomach, to be exact. There were fingerfoods here.. Maybe he could slip over and grab a stuff his face with an inappropriate amount whilst everyone else was gazing upon the explosive spectacle.
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