[Mini Player Event] Never Have I Ever

[crushed_pearls]

Who: EVERYONE
What: A rousing game of Never Have I Ever, and other entertainments
When: Saturday, May 4th, starting at around noon
Where: Oak & Iron
Warning(s): Intoxication and whatever you bring in with you; the prompts here are ideas for your own TLs

Shortly after the island comes back and rebuilding begins, the esteemed Mister Yorick of the newspaper gets the Erin Peters experience, where she flings his door open and yells, "YOU LIKE GETTING DRUNK MOTHERFUCKER?" Somehow this kills him, and Erin honestly is not sure how, but a much more sedate second visit leads to an announcement in the newspaper:

Never Have I Ever
Saturday the Fourth, Oak & Iron
First Round of Drinks Free
If You Drink, You Play
We're Never Going To Say This Again But Food From Home Encouraged, Our Chefs Aren't Immortal

If You Have Never Heard Of This Game, Start Talking About Large Boats And Ask The First Person Who Has A Flashback How It's Played

Attendance isn't mandatory, but it's about to be hard to miss at least seeing the damn thing...

The Party

Erin's come prepared for this one. It took some cajoling. It took pleading and browbeating to get extra chefs on deck so people could switch out to participate. It took opening extra kegs and casks, and, yes, it took stealing and fixing a whole lot of furniture that had been damaged by the flood, but right now Oak & Iron is not merely the building, but most of the Outside(tm) near the building. The event proper starts at noon but setup started at 8 PM the night before and Erin straight up just did not go to bed until it was done. The Pine Devil can come at her if it thinks it's hard enough.

The end result is a whole lot of mismatched outdoor seating with a variety of chairs, stools, tree stumps carved into "chairs", Frankensteined tables, and an outdoor bar. Staff from the inn collects money from that bar, where Erin Peters is working, every 25 minutes on the dot, and your hostess has a sharp and sly grin on her face whenever she's not actively engaged in a conversation. Food is available but bringing dishes of one's own is strongly permitted. Hell, come bring it and sell it, this may be the only time the inn doesn't care that you're technically competing with them.

She has, after all, been starving for Glamour under the sea. She expects to feed well.

A large sign next to the bar reads: I'm Blind As Fuck And This Game Goes Hard, Drink At Own Risk

Smaller letters immediately beneath say: Anyone Dying Of Alcohol Poisoning Will Be Mocked

The Game

Never Have I Ever is a simple game. Someone makes a truthful statement, such as "Never have I ever had a fist fight with a bear," and anyone who can't truthfully agree with that statement must take a drink. Though there's no actual formal obstacle against lying, people fudging the truth while Erin is walking past with drinks or to see friends might get a nudge with a wing and this blind bitch announcing 'liar' in a sharp tone that might be play or might be bullying and is probably both (feel free to NPC this happening if it's of interest to you!).

Feel free to simply tag in with your question as the header, as seen here. Even the prose is optional! Folks will come to you with whether or not their character drinks and you can thread or not thread from there.

The Long Walk Home

Did you survive your own poor choices? Do you have a plan to make it home safely before, or after, dark? Not like Oak and Iron can bear the entire town within its walls, so...

Comments

Never Have I Ever Given A Poor Job Reference

[restingslasherface]

Jean is petting Agent Charlie and Hungry while they pose this.

[pineapplesalmon]

César breathes a sigh of relief. Okay, maybe he won't die of alcohol poisoning. He'd hate to be forced into having a second week off.

[maltesefalcon]

Cerrit takes this one in stride, sipping quietly.

[stonecoldtop]

George takes a drink without hesitation. He has the good grace to look guilty about it at least.

[tehilim127_1]

Zivia doesn't drink on this one. "I don't think I've ever actually given any job references at all."

[restingslasherface]

Jean leans in to whisper: "Neither have I, Comrade."

[apocryphalarchivist]

Jon takes a drink, and then grumbles.

"Bastard former flatmate of mine. In my defense for giving the poor reference, he didn't ask me if he could, and he was trying to be a dental assistant, even though I never saw him wash his hands once. Probably would've fucking killed someone."

[astrogator]

Alright, so she hasn't done that, but she's curious.

'Did you ever pointedly decline to give one at all?'

[restingslasherface]

Jean leans in.

And in.

And iiiiiiin -

"I've never been asked to give one," they whisper, conspiratorially.

[astrogator]

She leans closer too, obligingly. When she hears the explanation, Tayrey stifles a chuckle. 'Then you're being very clever,' she replies, in what is intended as a whisper but comes out decidedly too loud.

[restingslasherface]

"Thank you!" Jean beams. "I actually got my job at Lobotomy Corporation on someone else's endorsement...nothing big, I never got high in the ranks, but for a little while it was something like safety."

Says the chicken-holding tiny nugget who has, as of this writing, already demonstrated to Tayrey that their life has been so lacking in safety that they can parry bullets with kung fu.

[astrogator]

One of the consequences of Tayrey's sector's unusual approach to the teaching of history is that the word lobotomy is nothing more than a pleasing-enough set of sounds that one could name a corporation with.

'I hear you,' she says. 'I likely wouldn't have gotten my Tradeline apprenticeship without someone speaking for me, it's how these things work sometimes.' A pause. 'What exactly was your job there, anyway?' Yes, she's curious.

[restingslasherface]

"I was an Agent in the Disciplinary Department, 'the mad dog that bites its master'." Jean doesn't beam exactly, but they've had enough drink at this point that their now-habitual cringe of guilt is off on its break. "Lobotomy Corporation was...one of the Wings of the World, the twenty-six corporations which controlled the City, in this case Nest L, where safety is promised - as opposed to the lawless Backstreets, yes?" Hand gestures are getting involved. Agent Charlie pokes her head out from Jean's coat to see what the fuss is. "Agents like myself were involved in energy production! We contained beings known as Abnormalities and extracted resources from them that were turned into electricity, weapons, armor, and other technologies. Clean, renewable, and...deeply wrong, hahahahaha, HAHAHAHAHA -"

They cough several times.

"...In any event Lobotomy Corporation um. Exploded. Few survivors, of which I was...one. Of approximately fifty-one total."

[astrogator]

The color drains from her face.

'To clarify.' One always needs to clarify. No good comes of leaping to conclusions.

'Your corporation used people as fuel? Imprisoned them, and... and...'

Please clarify, Jean!

[restingslasherface]

"While the personhood of Abnormalities is ontologically questionable...yes." Jean strokes Charlie's head with a finger, their eyes sliding away. "I can explain further, comrade, but...be certain you want to hear it. Descriptions of the City have frequently disturbed others, and I needn't hear that it's horrific - I have grown quite aware. The Wings...the Wings answer only to profit. And I'm very, hahaha, hahahahahaha, HA, ha...very sorry to say that Lobotomy Corporation may have been among the least egregious."

[astrogator]

'Ah. You decided they weren't people first.'

This is not making it any better. Sorry Jean, Tayrey's projecting hard here. She catches herself just before she tips over into a rant about how someone responsible for such horrors could never be her comrade, because that word carries real significance where she's from.

What she actually does is push back her chair and stand, one hand extending, touching the table to steady her.

'I am either too drunk or not drunk enough for this,' she declares loudly, before looking over her shoulder in search of an ally, or at least a safe distraction.

[not_a_traitor]

Gaeta hears that, looks over just in time to meet Tayrey's eye, and mutters a curse under his breath when she makes the abort mission signal. He grabs his crutches.

"Tayrey!" he calls over the babble of the crowd. "There you are! I forgot about the, uh, thing, can you come help me for a second?"

Look, just be impressed he's able to walk right now, he's not going to come up with a better cover story than that.

[restingslasherface]

"..."

Jean just kinda. Slumps over their drink. Defeated.

No Drink

[be_seeing_you]

Number 6 doesn't drink for this one. He's given plenty of job references before, yes. But if a candidate would receive a poor one from him, he usually didn't bother to write a reference at all.

[decohere]

"I don't understand what that means..."

No Drink

[maximumcake]

Max doesn't drink, but honestly he's less interested in that right now and more interested in Agent Charlie.

"Awww, what cute little chicken. What's their name?"

[restingslasherface]

Carefully, Jean scoops the chick up in both hands and presents her. She pecks their hands for a couple seconds, then seems to realize something and strikes a haughty pose, turning her head this way and that to give Max her best Imperious Stare.

It's not a good Imperious Stare, but it is her best one.

"This," Jean says proudly, "is Agent Charlegmane, to be employed at the completion of her training aboard Mipha's Grace as the ship's ratter. You can call her Agent Charlie!"

[maximumcake]

"Oh my goshhhh," Max squeals when she strikes her pose. He's got both hands clapped to his cheeks like he just cannot believe what he's seeing.

"It's so nice to meet you, Agent Charlie. You're going to be such a good little ratter, aren't you? Yes you are~"

[restingslasherface]

"You may pet her if you wish! One finger right on the top of her head, very gently - she is rather small, and doesn't like being picked up by strangers."

[maximumcake]

"I do wish!"

Max displays his true nature as a gentle giant, stroking one finger over Charlie's head very, very softly.

"Oh, her feathers are so fluffy."