thnks fr th mmrs [closed.]

[deuteranope]

Who: Maverick Taylor, Imelda Rivera, Héctor Rivera, Rex Arany, Rover, Adelaide Cooke, Therion, Goro Akechi, Jolyne Cujoh, Jonathan Joestar, Tamaki Suou INHALE I THINK THAT'S EVERYONE
When: Backdated to November 28th!
Where: The Inn of Atropos.
What: Worst Fake Thanksgiving Ever.
Warnings: Excessive cursing, torture mention, will add more if needed.


(except, you know, less Santa hats, more turkey.)

Y'all know why you're here. Time to have the worst fake Thanksgiving possible, my dudes. Maverick wanted to have a good time and here we are to destroy it.
To get started, just make a blank toplevel (using < ! > minus the spaces in the body). You can then reply either to your own toplevel with an open prompt, or reply to someone else's toplevel with a more targeted prompt! We doing it meme style, folks, because that's what made sense in my brain when thinking about how to structure this.

(Also Ramona is of course there but I'm not super confident in my Ramona, so I can bring her out or you can spare me.)

Comments

Maverick Taylor (+Ramona if you're feisty.)

[deuteranope]

Therion

[bolderfell]

Imelda Rivera

[no_dejare_de_quererte]

[bolderfell]

[Whatever discomfort Therion may or may not feel about the invitation, here he is, in all his half-scruffy glory. Maverick said they didn't have to dress up, but it's a holiday thing, right? And it'd make Ramona happy. So Therion's concession to the day is a real buttoned shirt under his hoodie. #Fashion.

Anyway, the jokes Therion has made about being shy might have a grain of truth to them after all, because in a gathering like this, he's keeping notably quiet. Or maybe he's distracted. It certainly takes more than usual to get his attention today. Sorry to anyone who wants a slice of that ham sitting in front of him. Maybe call his name again?]

Héctor Rivera

[unpocoloco]

[unpocoloco]

He walks into that room. He walks in dressed to a moderate-best, arm in arm with his wife, feeling happy and proud. Opposite to thousands of thanksgivings all over the Americas, he's here for the company alone, not the food.

He recognizes Adelaide. Jolyne and Tamaki, to a lesser degree. Ramona and Maverick of course summon up fond feeling immediately. He mostly doesn't recognize the rest.

Save one.

His breath pulls sharp and he turns right around. He takes Imelda by the arm and pulls her along-- outside, to a corner, he doesn't know, he doesn't care.

"He's here," he hisses in a panic. "Imelda, he's here...!"

[unpocoloco]

Don't be weird.

Don't be weird, Maverick said.

Of course he wasn't going to be weird, he said. Of course he lied.

He sits at the table, pouring himself a drink with unsteady hands, and he stares straight through it. He can't freak out. He can't do this here. But it's making any attempt at normalcy an abject failure.

He'll have to apologize later. Maverick didn't ask for this. For now he's trying to focus on breathing, both to keep himself sane and because he knows if he holds his breath too long it'll become obvious he doesn't need it in the traditional sense.

[deuteranope]

[There's a whistle of approval from a few feet away, and Maverick's smug face will be there if Therion looks up. If not, he'll make sure it's seen by moving closer and tipping his head to put himself directly in view.]

Look who's all fucking classy tonight.

[And lacking a certain...assuredness. Therion's presence wasn't ever commanding or ostentatious or anything, but -- but it was different. Maverick shoves his hands in the pockets of his own hoodie, nice and worthy of company for this holiday of sorts.]

Never too soon for alcohol at these kinda things, you know. Want me to get you something?

[deuteranope]

[He's surrounded by things to steal his attention away, but Héctor and his nerves can't escape his notice for long. It's...weird. It isn't the kind of agitation he would have expected in his worst case scenario of how the night was going to go. This was worse. And...frightened? He's glad Ramona and him are frequently moving around even with seated guests, so it isn't strange at all when he wanders over with a sigh.]

Man, if you're gonna hog it, at least don't waste it. I need a drink more than the fucking table does, you know.

[As he gives Héctor a calculating look. He's not good at the whole reading people thing, but...he wants to figure this one out.]

[unpocoloco]

[He startles just a little, focusing in on Maverick first, then on the mess he's made. A light curse slips out and he puts it all down. He reaches for some napkins to try and tidy, somewhat.]

Sorry, sorry.

[His guts are tying into knots which is not a helpful feeling.

He knows Maverick is looking at him. He doesn't know what to say. Everyone here is a friend to the boy. Everyone was someone important and he's an idiot.]

[deuteranope]

[Oh yeah. The kids aren't alright, and neither is this dude. Maverick leans his hip against the table as a means of subtly blocking off Héctor from at least part of the table and raises an eyebrow.]

¿Estás bien, Esqueletío? ...If something you ate's fucking disagreein' with you, we can go file a formal complaint with the chef.

[He knows the man hasn't eaten a thing, and wouldn't be the whole night. Someone's gotta be subtle to cover for this goddamn mess.]

[bolderfell]

[Therion registers Maverick's presence in the moment between the whistle and his getting up in Therion's grill, so he manages not to jump like a completely inattentive fool. It still takes him a second to blink and compose his expression, but then he smiles a little, and that seems genuine.]

Ramona putting you to work on a holiday, barkeep? Is that legal?

[He sits back in his chair, putting aside whatever it was he was mulling over.]

What've you got?

[deuteranope]

Ha! Gotta remember, Flicker, it's a fake holiday.

[He's been working all day... But he's too anxious about so many of his favorite people being in one place that sitting is impossible, anyway. Attending to Therion's unfortunate sobriety is a good way to keep himself occupied.]

Wines and beers, mostly. Wine coolers for the lightweights. I can mix shit up pretty easily, though -- there's something I want you to try at some point, but I dunno if I wanna ruin you for anything else you might imbibe for the rest of the night, shit's so good.

[unpocoloco]

[How kind. Shielding him. Offering an out. And he's ruining the party.

He smiles wanely, though grateful.]

Estoy bien, mijo. Discúlpame. I don't want to bother the chef. I think I'm just having a flare up. I may get some air in a bit, but you don't have to worry.

[bolderfell]

[Maybe he didn't do a good enough job collecting himself the moment before, because nothing to say pops into Therion's head that isn't stupid, and what he ends up saying--and how he ends up looking--is probably the stupidest.]

..."Flicker?"

[Oh. Oh, is this. Bumble. But for him?]

[deuteranope]

[Hm... He's very obviously not convinced, but he's not about to push it in front of the other guests. As much of a casual dick as he may seem to be, he's had to learn tact in order to know how to dodge around it instead of leaving everything to instinct.]

No hay problema, then... [No need for Héctor to beg forgiveness, either, he means, not that he's about to say.] Always up to talk shit, though, you know that.

Jonathan Joestar

[standless]

[deuteranope]

[Sorry, Therion, but he's gotta laugh. That face is way too ridiculous on someone that's normally so composed.]

What about it? Y'all should know by know I only pick the most fitting of monikers for mes potes, so I know there ain't a problem there.

[Right!!!]

Goro Akechi

[foolishjustice]

[deuteranope]

[Now that everything's all settled between them, Maverick's got some Business to take care of regarding this little bat. It's harder to pop up out of nowhere, so as much as he enjoys seeing the look of panic on someone's face, he doesn't go out of his way to try.]

Yo, Battycakes. Now that we got a built in excuse for me behaving myself, was thinkin' we could revisit a conversation. Especially, since, you know. You got Florida Woman learning that shit.

[standless]

[Well that doesn't make it too difficult to figure out what he's up to, now does it.] If you refer to Jolyne, you are indeed correct. It seemed a more than useful technique to combine with her 'stand', [he explains, still pausing curiously on Stand. It's just an odd thing to think about. Anyway.]

...But I must ask you then, what your interest in hamon is at this time. It may carry the energy of life, but it is ultimately a weapon.

[deuteranope]

[Good to see he isn't as much of an idiot as he lets on.

...Mav will just keep that thought to himself, for now. It would be helpful.]

It's... [His eyes cross the room, landing on Héctor and Imelda some ways away. Mm... Even if it would help him to be clear, it isn't exactly his secret to be going around telling.] It's sorta personal. But I mainly want it for the healing bit of it you mentioned, alright? I can fucking heal loads of shit, but not...blight.

CW: panic attack/emetophobia

[foolishjustice]

Akechi seems...in a pretty decent mood at first arrival. He's looking a little tired, but he's smiling and smelling the air excitedly. Then he spots Hector, and it's as though he's been paralyzed. He stops in his tracks, the color draining from his face so that the concealer under his eyes stands out visibly. He looks sick.

After several seconds, he wobbles over to the nearest chair. His hands are shaking. His stomach is churning. Mav said...he said people wouldn't treat him the same as Shido if they knew the full story. But the context Hector found out in...it's the same context as what happened to that version of him in the mirror. He feels like laughing. He feels like crying. He shouldn't have come. Everyone is going to find out, without knowing he's already started working against Shido. Would Mav protect him, if they turned violent? No, he couldn't ask him to do that. Everyone here is...one of Mav's friends. If he defends him against them, would he lose them? He can't ask that.

He can't breathe, either. He can't take his eyes off Hector, staring at him as if he expects him to pull a gun and shoot him. Maybe he does. He doesn't know what he expects, just that it's going to be awful. He should...he should take his medicine. This is what he has the anxiety pills for. But there's too many people who can see him, who would want to know what he's taking. He doesn't want them to know. Besides, if he takes that, he'll barely be able to stay awake. He'll be vulnerable, practically helpless. Whatever they decide to do while away from the campus, where his guards don't have immediate line of sight to him, he won't be able to escape.

He feels sick. A shaking hand lifts to cover his mouth as his stomach lurches, but he forces it down. He can't...not now. He can't show an opening. He has to be ready, ready for...whatever happens. He can't be vulnerable.

[standless]

[A slow nod. Jonathan certainly doesn't catch who Mav is looking at, but they're at least talking about this under a lot less stress. That makes it easier to keep it civil.] Hamon does at the very least hasten personal healing- it has even renewed dead plant life.

But it eradicates blight until nothing is left. It is the most brutal form of purification, [he adds-] ...to use hamon only to heal... ...It is a noble desire, [Jonathan states first.] ...and I am ashamed to admit that my greatest fear is that I will not be able to teach it properly for that use. When I was taught, it was to kill- to kill the undead, and rid them from my home. And naught but a few weeks afterward, my master was killed as we did just that. What I know is minimal.

...but...what I know seems to be all there is left, if what I have heard is any sign. [Jonathan is quiet, just for a moment- and if he isn't interrupted he does indeed go on.] ...I want to share it though. I truly do- but whatever occurs, it must be done with utmost care. Even if it is meant to harm only the blighted, we have no true guarantee of whether or not it can go too far.

If I am to teach you, I need your word that it be with this in mind. If any harm were to come to another, if anything were to happen to someone undeserving, because of something I passed on... ...I cannot bear the thought.

Jolyne Cujoh

[strings_theory]

[One hundred percent wearing this shit, y'all.]