Somewhere There's a Party [OPEN!]

[lefthandedgenius]

When: Evening of Aug 23rd
Where: Xanadu, in the forest area.
Rating: PG-13 to maybe R? I dunno.
Characters: EVERYONE
Summary: It's Scott McCall's Very Merry Un-Birthday! Lydia Martin is your hostess with the mostest.
Log:

Fairy lights have been strung up amongst the trees, providing the partygoers with just enough illumination to feel like it's a party without being over-bright. An area has been cleared for dancing. There are also two main tables; one full of food, and the other a please to leave gifts and cards and the like.

Food is buffet style and there are no waiters, but there are two small bar setups with tenders manning them - no need for id at this party, kids. Perhaps most interestingly of all, now and again one or two people seem to drop down from the trees, scantily clad and performing brief feats of acrobatics using aerial silks and one or two person trapezes before clambering back up into the branches and disappearing into the greenery once more.

Comments

[candothat]

[Spock hasn't shared anything fourth wall shattering, which is a shame. Chekov would love to pick the idea of being fictionalized in another universe apart.]

Pavel Chekov. I believe you have met my cr--eh, coworkers.

[affectioning]

[ Maybe he will, someday. Or, maybe Lydia will share her theories. ]

I have. [ A grin. ] Jim and B - Dr. McCoy. And Spock. [ He sets his plate down. ] Thanks for coming.

[candothat]

Not Uhura? You will need to be introduced. [He doesn't relinquish his plate. There's still food on it.] Of course. I needed to meet you to know who the others are talking about.

[affectioning]

Not yet? She left, didn't she? [ Or, was taken. Disappeared. The City grabbed her again. Is she back? Don't waste food, Chekhov. Good man! ] They talk about me? [ Such a freaking hopeful puppy. ]

[candothat]

She did, yes, and then returned without her memories. [It was sad. It's still sad.]

Yes, of course. Not to me, directly, but they do.

[affectioning]

Oh. Sorry. [ It is sad. That she left, maybe that she's back. He doesn't know. ]

Cool. [ He'll snap out of that. ] How long have you been in the City?

[candothat]

These things happen.

I have been here for five hundred sixty-five days--or five hundred fifty-seven, if I take away the days I missed. You came last month?

[affectioning]

But, she's back! [ He brightens. ]

... So, over a year. Almost two. [ If he does correct math. He doesn't always. ] Yeah. End of July. It's weird to think that it's been that long. But it has. [ A lot usually happens to him in a month lately... ]

[candothat]

Yes, and I am grateful for that.

[He shrugs dismissively.] Not so long as some people. I think that the first month is the hardest, except for when enormously unpleasant things happen. Congratulations on getting through it.

[affectioning]

So, is everyone close? Your cr [ what was his term? ] coworkers?

Thanks. Do I get a medal. Or a token? A congratulations ribbon?

[candothat]

[They're keeping any and all Starfleet-related words out of their conversations. Khan could be listening.]

Some are closer than others. Kirk, Spock, and Dr. McCoy are very close. ...But maybe not Spock and the doctor, so much, although I think that they enjoy disagreeing with each other.

I would buy you a congratulatory drink.

[affectioning]

[ You mean, Richard! Or, whatever name he used. John, that's right.

Scott grins. Oh, he knows. ]

I don't drink much but I'll take one. [ One doesn't hurt anyone. ]

[candothat]

[John "Genocidal Dictator From the Past" Harrison. That's the guy.]

It's good that you don't drink often. You are too young for that. [He's joking. It's kind of hard to tell.]

[affectioning]

[ He rubbed Scott the wrong way the day he met him. He is and he isn't! Too young, that is. ]

I like being young. [ Sometimes, he feels like he doesn't get to be just "young." ]

[candothat]

[Chekov makes a face at that.]

You do? I hate it. Well, no--it isn't so bad, but I look forward to being older.

[affectioning]

How old are you?

[candothat]

Eighteen. Young enough that no one takes me seriously.

[It doesn't always occur to him that there are plenty of other things that discourage people from taking him seriously. Oops.]

[affectioning]

I'm seventeen so I'm not far behind. But, I don't think it's age. People take me seriously. Maybe, more people take you seriously than you think.

[candothat]

Here, maybe. On a starsh--at work? No, but that does not matter. Apologies for talking about myself when it is your party.

[affectioning]

What? Dude, you don't have to apologize. It might be my party but I allow people to talk about themselves.

[candothat]

Then at least let me apologize for being boring.

[Don't deny him this, man. ;-;]

[affectioning]

You're not boring. Am I coming off like I think you're boring? Cause you're not. I don't think anyone here's boring. And at work, people will take you seriously. Maybe it takes time. Why don't they take you seriously?

[candothat]

No, of course not. You are a most gracious host.

I am years younger than everyone else. [siiiigh] And some are under the impression that I am small and cute, which does not help.

[affectioning]

Oh, I'm not a host. I'm -- am I the host? [ He doesn't feel like it. Is he missing hosting duties? Is he doing this wrong? ]

Even if you are small and cute, it doesn't mean you're not capable?

[candothat]

It is your party. You aren't not the host. [It's okay, Scott, shh. Everything is fine.]

Yes, that is what I say, thank you! Do you never need to prove that you are capable?