OUR HOUSE

[saltwaterlungs]

CHARACTERS: Phil, Dimitri, Darcy, Ruby, the Venom Symbiote, and you!
DATE: June
LOCATION: The farmhouse on 499 Winter's Avenue
SITUATION: Home-making and housewarming
WARNINGS: Usual warnings for all characters involved but otherwise n/a

I'll light the fire, you place the flowers in the vase (Closed to phil/dimitri/ruby/venom)

Moving out of the Oak and Iron has been on Darcy’s mind- well. Virtually since she got to Pumpkin Hollow. But with Phil back and all, they started making plans for it in earnest. A combination of saving up and mysterious brass from some old dude fairy (??? she isn’t asking too many questions) means that they have the means. All they have to do is do it.

The week prior to the housewarming is spent working in and around the construction of a couple of new rooms, subdivided up from the old floor plan. Paint, wallpaper, fresh fabric to reupholster some of the furniture, a lot of cleaning. Plus there’s the logistics of moving all their stuff, which is significantly harder without cars and on an island that’s bigger than one ship. Darcy doesn’t even have that much shit, it just all stacks up somehow.

She spends her time mostly between generally assisting the move, setting up the kitchen, and putting her room together once they’ve finished building it. Darcy can be found doing any of those three things.

Rest your head for just five minutes, everything is done (Open)

It’s not going to be the shindig to end all shindigs, but once the dust has settled and everyone’s recovered from moving everything around, friends and family will get a call inviting them over. All the windows are open for the mild Summer night air, the curtains drift a little in the breeze, and the song of crickets can be heard from anywhere in the house. The lights inside the house are warm and cheery, and seem to beckon you in, the shadows around them seeming… darker, somehow.

There’s lemonade with some Phil-made ice cubes in it, and Darcy hasn’t moved from the kitchen in service of making canapes to feed anyone who shows up. Cold cuts on bread, sandwiches with cucumbers left over from the carnival, small fish cakes. It’s a good way to break the kitchen in. When the food has been made, Darcy sets up out the front on the porch, curled up with some lemonade on one of the chairs, looking out into the night and making some small greeting to anyone who approaches.

Life used to be so hard, now everything is easy cause of you

[wildcard!]

Comments

[decohere]

After taking a look around the new place and nodding in approval of all the redecoration efforts, Ava joins Darcy out on the porch. Sitting on one of the steps with a half-eaten cucumber sandwich in her delicate grasp, she sighs softly, enjoying the fresh air.

"You must be... feeling relieved, these days."

[saltwaterlungs]

"Like you wouldn't believe."

Darcy huffs a little, rubbing at her face. The warm air feels weird, somewhat mild and yet a little stodgy too. Like an actual summer, again.

"It's nice to be living in like. An actual house. The Oak and Iron kind of just felt like the cabins again. I've never lived anywhere this nice."

[goodweather]

i want a hundred days [construction] [closed to cr]

My god, he thinks, when they first arrive at the spot, at the home they’re going to expand, with the weeds they’ll have to dig up and the walls they’ll have to build and the furniture they’ll have to upholster, and a rickety, splintery bridge crossing the creek between it and the road.

My god, he thinks, as they’re putting it all together. Scrubbing and hammering and putting together, with the advice and helping hands of some townsfolk who know better than them about putting together a house. Whenever he’s out there he wears a scrap of fabric tied over his bad eye. He’s sweating his ass off anyway—there’s no reason to try and look good.

Most of his time is spent working with others in the actual building of the house: setting foundations, sawing planks and hammering stairs, the carrying of glass for windows. After that he busies himself with the arrangement of furniture and the planning of rooms. There’s no enough room for four people upstairs, so it’s looking like he’s bunking up next to the kitchen. (And the front door.)

As the days carry on, the physical toll starts to catch up with him: soreness, pains, bruises. But hey, Hawkeye was right: he doesn’t really get headaches when he’s out there, even with all the sunlight and hammering.

My god, he thinks, we’re really doing this.

of bright light [housewarming party, 1] [open]

As the adult, the patriarch of the house, and also the one with the most extroversion, most social skills, and least amount of present depression, it’s up to him to plays the gracious host. Host he very much shall.

Phil circulates in the party, making sure to greet each guest, that everyone is fed and watered, making small talk with everyone he can find. Saying things like, “hey, thanks for coming, so glad you could make it,” or “have you tried (one of our various snacks)? Darcy made them,” or “temperature okay for you? Not too warm in here?” or checking in on whatever current events he knows to be going on in their lives. (Honestly, it reminds him a bit of having to say hi to everybody at his wedding.)

The cool breeze that always surrounds him blows brightly and lightly, and the orange glow that follows him is warm. It’s warmer than it’s been in some time.

My god, he thinks. We really have a house.

we’ll break the hearts and say goodbye [housewarming party, 2] [open]

As the night winds on, his stamina starts to flag. When the party seems self-sufficient enough to go on for a little while without him, Phil slips away upstairs to sit in the dark hallway. Just for a moment. One quiet moment where he can nurse his headache.

If he heard anyone following after him, he’ll greet them with a little wave. “Just taking a breather. Don’t mind me.”

you will never die [wildcard]

(( hit me! ))

I want a hundred days

[saltwaterlungs]

[ Darcy stretches out after the last of the wallpaper on the wall they're working on in the living room is stuck up, yawns as they take a step back to look over it. Her fucking back- is this what being old is like? The glue they're using has a weird and kind of strong smell, and Darcy glances over to Phil to gauge whether or not she can suggest they take a break. ]

Feels like we're building the fucking arc, [ Darcy stifles a yawn, rubbing her hands together to try and peel some of the dried glue off, ] if the island floods again, everyone can just come here with two of each animal.

we’ll break the hearts and say goodbye

[pineapplesalmon]

César looks surprised for a moment and then lets out an embarrassed laugh. "I, ah, am doing the same thing. So don't mind me, either."

He doesn't even hesitate to sit in the hall, just does it, back against the opposite wall from Phil. Far enough away for private contemplation but close enough for conversation.

bright light

[not_the_last]

She makes her way through the party, looking for her hosts first.

(Housewarming. It's a concept that makes sense to her, but not one she ever expected to experience. She's not altogether sure how one's supposed to behave at one of these.)

Once she's in the right room, of course, Phil isn't hard to spot. She brightens and heads in his direction, her hair stirring in the breeze.

[inaurate]

rest your head

Claude isn't about to turn up to a housewarming party without a present, even if he wasn't asked to bring one. He doesn't really know any of Dimitri's housemates, save for Darcy (who he definitely does not remember from Garreg Mach but he will for sure keep pretending that he does), but hey, everyone likes tea, right?

The tin of dried chamomile is placed on a prominent spot on a kitchen counter, a simple note of congratulations signed on a slip of paper on top. He sneaks a canape from the plate Darcy is actively working on filling up with a grin. "The place is looking nice. Very homey."

on the outside looking in

Claude is as gracious a guest as he is a host, and he's pretty damn good at the latter. He's friendly and makes conversation easily with whoever's nearby; working at the pharmacy and collecting herbs around the island, he sees plenty of people in passing and readily jumps on the opportunity to actually make conversation. He honestly hasn't been to many parties like this, casual and intimate... it's nice. Completely different vibe to the feasts he grew up with, or the balls he attended in Fodlan, or even the victory feasts he threw during the war. It's closer to the third than anything else, but without the desperation tinging everything. Just the palpable relief and the unspoken I can't believe we made it here.

Being adjacent to such domesticity leaves him feeling wistful as the night goes on. He's always been a loud proponent of celebrating victories, but when the party ends, it's always onto his next goal. Will he ever be satisfied enough to consider his work done? Would he even want anything like this, if he had anyone to want it with, or does it just ache because it's not something he's ever really thought about having for himself to begin with? He doesn't like that he doesn't know the answers. He's careful not to let it show, though if someone catches him in a rare moment alone, there will be a glimpse behind the easy-going mask before it slides smoothly back into place.

wildcard

[idk man it's chill party vibes, come talk to your local pharmacist assistant/board games night runner and veterans poker frequenter/nominee for town council]

Rest your head

[saltwaterlungs]

"It's not a castle, but it's still pretty good," Darcy comments as she glances over to see the missing canape. Huffs. Sure it's meant to be eaten but she was making a nice pattern with it.

"And you didn't have to bring anything," she lightly scolds as she places the last of the little fishcakes onto the plate and picks up the tin, "but thanks. I'm not super big on tea but I know everyone else is. So. They'll appreciate it. Scootch a bit, you're in front of the dry goods cupboard."

on the outside looking in

[goodweather]

At some point, the host makes his way to Claude. He's tall, he's got a warm and winning smile, and he's followed by a breeze that nicely complements the cooling summer air and a warm light that only seems to be falling on him. Weird!

"Hey there," he greets. "Thanks for coming. I don't think we've met. I'm Phil Connors." He holds out a hand, which has talons and scales on his fingers, like bird's feet. "I'm Darcy's dad."

Rest your head for just five minutes, everything is done [OTA]

[pineapplesalmon]

Half the reason César became a druid-farmer was so he could grow the important plants using magic, and that includes being able to arrive at a housewarming party and grin as he holds up a glass jar of Chile de Arbol Salsa. "I came with a housewarming gift. Needs to be refrigerated, for the record."

Red means danger in the natural world, and this is no different.

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy gets a very very particular look on her face. The exact look of a younger sibling having a terrible idea.

"Scale of like... one to ten, how spicy is this?"

[abhorrently]

everything is done.

Coming feels...odd. Deliberately walking herself into a situation in a house that will be, that is a home. One of those places where it's stepping onto gravel with bare feet - not fully comfortable. But she's been invited, and there's no strong reason not to go, beyond a headache, so she takes some of her medicine and tells herself to smile.

The idea of a gift seems to be popular in cultures, something to welcome the new house, but she's been out of ideas from the start. People have too many ideas for what might be good, and in the end, Fever turns up emptyhanded. Still, she's doing her best to participate - talking to others, mingling, making remarks on how well the residents have done. It's a lovely place. Spring's a good time to move. Asking about small things that have occurred, since that seems to be the matter of course, or simply interjecting into a conversation as smoothly as if one was invited. If she can stay relaxed, it'll be fine. And if the group living here is happy, then it's a success.

life used to be so hard.

There's a point where she needs to pull back, going outside for air, when she lets the faint buzzing in her head grow louder and take over. Feigning that she's just looking at the scenery, she's on the side of the house, looking away from the festivities. It's not like the good cheer that was at the Oak and Iron - it's more intimate, in a way that leaves her feeling awkward. Breathe. She got through this much so far.

Though hearing footsteps, she snaps to attention, watching whoever it is. If they don't say anything, neither will she, but if they notice, they get the courtesy wave.

wildcard.

[happy to write personal starters, I know these are very generic prompts.]

life used to be so hard

[goodweather]

Phil had greeted her right at the door, of course; they'd said their hellos, he thanked her for coming, before getting swiftly pulled away by making the rounds with other arrivals, and then checking on Darcy in the kitchen, and how the other kids were doing, and and and. Phil takes to the work like a duck to water, but it's still work.

He doesn't quite manage to catch up with her again until now. Outside of the house in the night of rising summer. The sky is deep and dark, and there's a cacophony of bugs rattling in the woods and the grass. It's quiet anyway.

"How are you holding up?" he asks gently.

for just five minutes [OTA]

[not_the_last]

She hesitates for the longest time, at the edge of the shadows.

There are two people very dear to her living here now, and one friend, and one ... being of uncertain nature who is close to them. And one person she has never been able to make a friend, whom she is certain does not want to see her.

There was an invitation, and even without it she should be certain of her welcome with the others, and yet. Every time she thinks the words maybe I should just not go, they sound wrong and cowardly and contemptible, and every time she tries to make that an impetus to step into the light and toward the house, it fails.

Every time but the last, which finally spurs her to take a step forward, which turns into another step until she's moving up to the porch and the open door.

[saltwaterlungs]

There's someone sitting on the porch. Doesn't say anything, not until Cass has made it up the stairs. Then they sort of uncoil from where they're hunched on a bench, looks over.

"Phil's in the living room," they offer. It's almost a peace offering.

[abhorrently]

Inside the house, there's someone else familiar, currently eating some of the canapes and watching the rest of the room. She doesn't hear the door open, but when a new face appears, Fever glances towards it on reflex.

And then completely forgets about her plate, as red eyes go wide, struck with what she's seeing.

"Cassandra?"

Is it really her? After everything? Even now?

[OTA]

[graveling]

As someone else living out on a farm, Angel is pretty much a neighbor. Enough to show up to the party with some housewarming presents, right? He's got a few jars of honey (one with a note taped to the top) and a couple bars of filtered beeswax, for soapmaking or candles or waxing surfboards or whatever other use a household might have for some beeswax. He sort of lingers to the edge of the room, unsure how to housewarm otherwise, but wanting to be, y'know. Near people who are doing the people socializing thing.

[goodweather]

"Hiya, Angel," Phil chirps, picking out the wallflower. Not to pull a wallflower off of the wall, but to make sure everybody gets a piece of his hospitality. He's the host. Everyone ought to leave with some kind of satisfaction.

"I'm so glad you could come. How've you been doing lately?"

[littlefairytale]

are you tired of me yet? [closed to household]

This is it, then. They're doing this. Moving into an actual house, an actual home. Even as it's happening, it barely feels real. But then, a lot of things don't feel real to Ruby, these days, so maybe that's to be expected.

The physicality of it all is good for her. Time and again physical labour has proved to be the only thing that can reliably drag her back into her own skin. Ruby helps to build where she can, knowledgeable around tools and capable of transporting materials or furniture up or down a level with the help of Petal Burst's molecular deconstruction negating some of their mass. She helps to clear out the worst of the weeds in the land outside, using her Contracts to simply tell them to move outside the property' boundaries. She flits about offering help to the others wherever they might need another hand, wherever she might be useful. She needs to be useful.

There's still a part of her that feels... undeserving, somehow. Like by being here she'll be nothing but a burden, like asking the others to deal with her issues at all is an imposition that they shouldn't have to put up with. It's stupid, she knows it's stupid, Darcy and Dimitri are her friends and Phil is nice but— these thoughts still flare up with a vengeance in the quiet moments, the moments where she has to take a break, to sit in the grass or on the bed in her room or the floor in the family room to catch her breath.

Here and now, this is home. It's just going to take some time to get used to the idea she's allowed to believe it.

I'm a little sick right now, but I swear

Ruby's never been very good at parties.

Even before... everything, she was a chronic wallflower and despite this being a party she's 1/5th responsible for that doesn't entirely change. She makes an effort, of course. Familiar faces are welcomed with relative ease, and strangers may still find themself greeted by the young Asian woman with an eyepatch over her right eye and the black hooded cloak she's never seen without.

But sometimes the best shot you're going to have at talking to her is finding her sat somewhere (the family room or the porch, most likely) with some of Darcy's homemade snacks and one or more of her Pokemon. If you're the kind of person who'd rather find the nearest dog at a party, her Dachbun, Drei, is usually lounging in her lap and happy to receive attention.

The little grey Mimikyuu, that she's yet to settle on a nickname for, is less sociable, but never far from the girl, sat in the shadows or hiding under her cloak. Occasional rather ominous noises come from her general direction, which Ruby will always wave off as if they're totally normal, "Don't worry about her, she's just shy."

when I'm ready, I'll fly us out of here

When her social battery starts to run too low to even handle lurking on the edges of the gathering, Ruby retreats to the rooftop.

If you don't catch the streak of red petals that is her making her ascent then you might not realise where it is she's gone, but, if you look up, the subtle shine of her remaining eye gives her away even despite the dark colours she wears. She's staring up at the sky. Thinking. Decompressing. Processing.

wildcard

Hit me or poke me in the discord.

[graveling]

Angel notices Ruby has a guest under her cloak. His response? Grab a sandwich, sit on the floor, and break off pieces to pass to the Mimikyu without looking at her. He knows Mimikyu etiquette; he has his own at home.

are you tired of me yet?

[saltwaterlungs]

There's the sound of a broom sweeping as Ruby's laying in the living room, getting progressively closer and closer.

...

"I respect the sacred sanctity of floor time but I do need you to get up for like one minute."

[listenforbirdsong]

Mairi hasn't quite met everyone who lives here yet, but she likes Phil and Dimitri quite a bit and is delighted by the invitation. She arrives with homemade snickerdoodle cookies, a box of seeds in paper envelopes, and a wooden ring with a glowing vein of magic running through it as housewarming gifts.

She waves to Darcy on her way in and will gladly introduce herself if the stranger feels like talking, and then will make an attempt to find Phil and/or Dimitri to bestow her presents.

[saltwaterlungs]

Darcy gets up from the porch bench upon seeing she's brought food, scrambling just a little to his feet to keep up.

"We did say not to bring anything, right? Like that's a thing we said, just so I'm not going crazy. Kitchen's this way for the cookies, thanks but you didn't have to and all that."

[prince_of_beasts]

1. wadda hell? bulnosaur

The first time Dimitri visits the house on moving day, he finds a strange bulb in front of the steps. It looks like an undergrown cabbage, or maybe an artichoke, but there was no such thing growing there the day before. And who would plant one cabbage in the middle of the steps?

Gingerly, he pokes it with the tip of his sheathed sword. It shifts -- Dimitri leaps back, hackles bristling -- and reveals itself as the back of ... some sort of greenish toad creature, emerging from the dirt with a disgruntled croak.

Dimitri stares. "What?"

(Bulbasaur will be hanging around the house for all subsequent prompts.)

2. moving day (closed to CR)

The moving itself is a flurry of activity, construction a joy. Dimitri never tires of using his strength for something other than violence, breaking a sweat without shedding anyone else's blood. A cart borrowed from Mairi carries materials, supplies, furnishings; they could borrow a horse, as well, but Dimitri's happy to heave the harness over his shoulders and do the hauling himself. When he's forced to take a grudging break from hauling, he's helping to move furniture into the house and up the stairs. When he's not doing that, he's arranging furnishings in the living quarters. (He does scuff the wall of his bedroom while he's moving a wardrobe. Oh well.)

As the day goes on, he shows no signs of slowing, despite the warning signs of sunburn on his face and neck. Someone might have to corral him into taking a break.

3. warm welcome

Dimitri doesn't have much to bring over from the Oak and Iron: his sword, the stone ducky, and the deerskins he's been using for camping are the only real personal belongings he has. After the accumulated clutter of the Serena Eterna, it's an undeniable relief, but he's left wondering ... well, what now?

He doesn't have to think about it right away. They have visitors! And some part of Dimitri does feel correct inviting people into a space that's his. The same energy drives him forward; he's quick to greet guests at the door, all but bouncing on his toes. "Welcome! It's good to see you!"

4. night

He should have expected sleeping in a new place to be hard.

The Oak and Iron hadn't been so different from the Serena Eterna, which itself hadn't been so different from the Garreg Mach dormitories, which had been close enough to Fhirdiad Castle to feel familiar. A house is different -- even with three people to share it with, it's nothing like the quarters Dimitri's used to, whole communities in their own right. Wooden walls feel flimsy and insecure, the surroundings at once too loud and too quiet, ringing with the cries of night-beasts rather than human activity.

So he can't sleep. So he says he wants to take a last look around the premises -- which he does -- and instead finds himself pacing circuit, after circuit, after circuit around the house, twitching at every creak and rustle from the woods.

wildcard

HMU here or bird1312 on Discord!

3.

[abhorrently]

"It's good to see you as well, Dimitri."

She smiles, having drawn further into the house, looking around at the results of all their work. A feat and an accomplishment, really staking their claim on this place enough to say this is ours, pouring dedication into it. Much more involved than re-papering a few walls.

"I wouldn't have dared miss this, not after you were kind enough to extend an invitation. Thanks again for it."

Number 6 (Peter Starr) | OTA [cw: mild mention of disability]

[be_seeing_you]

Number 6 eases himself into one of the chairs on the front porch with a heavy groan, resting the cane that is now his constant companion at his side. He's sipping contentedly on a glass of lemonade and looking way too much like an old grandpa right now. (No one tell him.)

"Never thought I'd see the day," he says, which really isn't helping the grandpa image at all.

After a little while of sitting, he looks around covertly, and then reaches into his pocket to pull out a cigar and a box of matches. He's outside, no one should mind, right? Wrong. Mr. Mime, Number 6's devoted Pokémon helper does. The mime has just come back from going to grab Number 6 a plate of food. When he sees Number 6 with that lit cigar in hand, he lets out a disapproving "Mime!!" and stomps his clown feet.

[littlefairytale]

There's a snicker from behind Mr. Mime as a certain young woman steps out onto the porch, hands clasped behind her. "Daaad, are you getting told off?"

Max Maximum | OTA

[maximumcake]

The food planning for this party is completely Darcy's domain and Max wouldn't dream of intruding on that. However. He also wouldn't dream of showing up to a house-warming party without some kind of gift to give. To that end, he arrives with a loaf of freshly baked bread for each member of the new household. Crumpet, his adorable bread dog (a.k.a. Fidough) is helping by carrying two of those loaves in the pockets of her doggy saddlebags. She's great at making deliveries.

"Congratulations on the new house," Max says once he arrives. "Where should I put these? There's one for each of you."

[saltwaterlungs]

"At this rate we won't need to cook for a month after this," Darcy jokes, giving Max an elbow in the arm, which is about as close to a hug as anyone's getting under the present circumstances.

"Kitchen. If you can find space on a counter past all the other presents and the food," and Darcy leads the way, a teensy little bit eager to show it off.