NEW YEAR'S BASH

[piper90npcs]

Who: Everyone
What: New Year Celebrations
Where: The Rig
When: December 31st/January 1st
Warnings/Notes: Possible drunken revelry, smooches, language.

After everything, it is the end of a long, hard year. Free from Christmas decorations, new ones fill the hall. Snow's still present, and the New Hires will have had time to curse the daily shoveling of the walkways, but in certain areas of the Rig, green onions decorate doorways. Streamers and banners are all over the place. And people are already drinking and making merry, despite the earliness of the day.

They might regret this later, but they don't yet have 2020 hindsight.

Also, with some actual, honest apologies from ol' Dick Washburn, a combined Christmas/New Year's feast is held for the New Hires in their dorm. Yes, there's a dull sheetcake, written with their names (poorly spelled) on it, but there's also stew, a roast turkey, honest to God decent serving sizes... Apparently, it seems, the kitchen staff had found out that the New Hires had been cheated, dealing with missions over Christmas, and had nearly revolted until they got permission to put together a feast for them. Which may be why there's a load of cupcakes, noodles, pasta makings, and everything else that're usually grudgingly held out as treats.

Someone's set up a tree, too. Granted, it's aluminum, but it's decorated. There's a little Jorgmund ouroboros in place of the star as well. Underneath it, the Secret Santa presents. And whatever presents the New Hires might have begged, borrowed, or stolen the money for. And it seems that the corporation also has little gifts for everyone.

Jorgmund may be a heartless machine. But it seems that some of the people who grease the wheels have hearts after all.

Comments

FEASTING

[piper90npcs]

The cake's awful, but someone actually put some effort into the food! There's a lot of it, with zero regard for their current serving limits, and it seems to be self serve. Keen eyes might spot some illicit bottles of middling quality alcohol tucked behind some piles of salad.

Hey, just because they tried, it doesn't mean they had the budget for top of the line scotch.

END OF YEAR NOODLES

[71lines]

Tenten's just glad the kitchen staff is busy catering to parties elsewhere. First of all, she gets to shamelessly loot what's left. And second, she can use their resources again to make soba. It's a whole thing in Konoha, to eat soba noodles at the end of the year and the beginning of the new one. It's a luck tradition.

It's taken her a little longer than normal to get it done this year, and she's left resting her hand in a bowl of cold ice. Technically the transformation she was using, the one that made her look... normal, technically it couldn't feel that because it was fine, but that didn't help the psychosomatic agony she felt whenever she did something that she couldn't when she didn't have the transformation jutsu up.

She kind of wishes that this were a bit more intimate and cozy, but the kitchens were as cozy as you got in the Rig on nights like this. Their TV's on, talking about some place called New York, but her real attention is just on the soba and waiting for Adora and Catra to come to share.

Re: END OF YEAR NOODLES

[heterochrocatic]

Catra arrives in the kitchen without much fanfare. She's quiet, as cats tend to be, and probably looking forward to food more than she'd admit to anyone else. She pokes her head in, waves a hand towards Tenten.

"Hey, I heard there were noodles."

[71lines]

"Noodles? Here? Who could have said such a thing?" But she says it with a smile. "I didn't expect you quite so early, sorry. Hold on."

She reaches into a pocket and unrolls her scroll, withdrawing an ugly little denim jacket from a puff of smoke. She slips it on and then her entire outfit warps, shifting and slithering until it hits on a little red number. "Might as well look fancy for the occasion, y'know?"

She rocks on her heels a little, setting the scroll down, and peers about behind Catra. "Any clue where Adora is? I'd hate to eat without her."

cw: underaged drinking

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia had, in fact, been going for some salad when she discovers the booze. May God, Gaia, or other appropriate higher power bless the kitchen staff for their generosity! She still serves herself some salad because vegetables are good and important, but she also pours herself a shot without considering that a responsible adult might spot her and object.

CW: irresponsible adult in the face of underage drinking

[fuckcable]

Rictor had, in fact, spotted the booze while scanning the table for something edible like hot dogs. The salads are just what he aimlessly scoops onto the plate while he scopes out the drinkable offerings. The salads, being heavily mayonnaise-based, appear to come in different flavors, that is "white" and "yellow". Ric is hoping this is due to hard-boiled eggs, but if he doesn't eat the salad, he won't need to swipe as much cheap rum.

So... no, he will not be playing the role of responsible adult. "I'll give you the coconut rum if you give me the 151. You're not gonna like it anyway."

They're in a confined space under fairly constant supervision. Ric doesn't see anything that could happen to her that wasn't just as possible sober.

[credit_not_blame]

"But how will I know if I like it if I never try?" Stacia asks philosophically, but hands over the bottle without protest. "I think the last time I got my hands on that, I was TA-ing a lesson about how to make molotov cocktails."

Re: cw: underaged drinking

[ragefeathers]

Kenzie has a poor paper plate loaded down with food and a solo cup that reeks of alcohol when she wanders up behind Stacia pouring herself a shot. Time for someone to be responsible. Just that someone is not going to be Mackenzie.

"Fuck. Yes. Time to fucking drink," she says with all the subtlety and grace of a monster truck crashing into the front of a grocery store.

"Merry fucking Christmas." She might already be a little drunk.

[credit_not_blame]

Stacia laughs and raises her cup in acknowledgment.

"It was nice of the kitchen staff to sneak us drinks," she says. "When the revolution comes, they will be spared."

She downs her shot and makes a face.

"Okay, not as good as the shit Bulletproof brings to parties, but I guess I shouldn't have expected that."

cw: substance abuse

[hallelujahjunction]

I. Having a Great Time

There's nothing like a party to get Dan excited; he's in his element here, even more extroverted than usual, sidling up to everyone and anyone to rest his cheek on his hand and listen rapturously to anything they have to say, licking the frosting off the too-many cupcakes he's grabbed before he eats them.

"Need some company?" he asks anyone he sits next to, which seems to be half the people during the night. "Did they spell my name right on the sheetcake?"

II. Please Make Sure He Gets Home Safe

Eventually, it catches up to him. He managed to snag a whole two big bottles of the middling alcohol himself, and then of course he drank them himself on a stomach full of nothing but cupcakes, because January is a particularly stressful month for him and the further he gets into the night, the closer they get to the New Year, the harder it is to ignore that they're transitioning from the relative safety of December into a minefield of triggers and bad memories. Every January, for nearly a decade, he saw a family member die, due to a childhood curse he never had any say in.

Alcohol usually helps, but sometimes it doesn't. Sex usually helps, but sometimes it doesn't. Whatever party drugs he can get his hands on usually help, but sometimes they don't. And on New Year's Eve, they don't. But he makes the valiant effort with the alcohol anyway.

Odds of Dan getting back to his dorm safely are rapidly diminishing, and he certainly won't be helping with the cleanup, as instead he finds a secluded little seat in the corner, uncharacteristically withdrawn and too wasted to stand up, even though he's pretty sure he could still hold...most of a conversation.

II

[myagents]

Well, would you look at that. Dan is drunk in a corner. It's been a while since the last time Price saw him, it was on the ride back to the rig on his very first day, and he helped him too. The thanks were not so heartfelt as Dan seemed to be creeped out, such a shame. Price bets he wouldn't mind some help right now. Gets close to him and tilts his head as a talks to him.

"Oh! Daniel, are you alright?"

1

[greyerrant]

Loken looks down at Dan, to the cake, then back at him and nods. "It would appear your name is correct. I am not against company at this time." He attempts a small smile since he knows that kind of microexpression is good for reassuring baseline humans.

[trialbyliar]

For all that he is mischief incarnate, Kokichi doesn't actually get in on the underage drinking. He's not a fan of anything that leaves him stupid and clumsy. If anything, he's a bit hopped up on sugar. He hasn't had to steal his sweets for once, and he's beyond the point of caring that the cupcakes are kinda stale.

He is, however, a fan of what alcohol does to other people. Especially now that most people here wanna lecture and/or hit him.

The guy slumped in the corner isn't someone he's dealt with before, but that doesn't stop Kokichi from suddenly materializing beside him, leaning against the arm of his chair and making a face.

"Ugh, something over here reeks of bad decisions and dying brain cells," he says, nose wrinkling. If anyone asks, he's busy making sure this poor asshole is okay. Mostly so he doesn't get dragged into cleanup.

I

[runes_brand]

Brand is doing the thing he usually does at gatherings that aren't immediate-family only: hold up a wall, keep an eye on Rune, keep an eye on the exits, and try not to look approachable. It seems he'd failed in the last, but a little socializing won't kill him.

"They did," he answers, pulling his own cupcake apart so that he can sandwich the frosting between two layers of cake. "Got mine wrong, though. Unless there's a 'Brenden' here I'm not aware of."

I PARTY TIME

[garmr]

It appears Dan finds yet another gigantic wallflower staking out his corner by the sheetcake. Unlike the other parties, however, Guts seemed comfortable enough around them to forego trying to force his way out of his social obligation.

In fact, he seems perfectly content to simply bask in the festive mood of his companions, ocassionally hinting at a smile here or there from a distance. It was still mostly isolation - but definitely one of a different sort.

At the written names, he gives pause.

"Sorry... Couldn't tell you."

He sets down an empty bowl of Semi-Decent New Year Stew that he'd been nursing for the better part of an hour. Guts has yet to touch a dessert.

[just_rogue]

The open bar was one sure way to get a group in the holiday spirit. And Rogue was about ready for something to smile about after all the events of the past couple of months.

So she'd be found over by the booze table mixing herself a drink, she could probably be convinced to mix a drink for others if she was asked nicely.

GIFTING

[piper90npcs]

And here's where people can find gifts from their Secret Santas. Or even just gifts from anonymous friends. It doesn't seem like whoever leaves the mysterious items on their pillows got involved this time, though.

Jorgmund has left them little packages as well. Canvas bags, featuring the Jorgmund logo. And new bedsheets. Also featuring the Jorgmund logo. Well.

That said, it's not all bleak. There's a line of stockings, each with someone's name on them, hanging off of the wall. They seem... hand-made. They're red and green, with white trim, and some people will find them full of candy! Others, and they know who they are, will find nothing but a lump of coal.

[xrater]

In addition, the stockings all have a selection of codes in them.

That's right, Alia's taken some of her valuable time to set up some more video games. In addition, she's sent out several tiny robots to create a network, with a computational machine in her section of the science labs acting as a provider for everyone. They have to disconnect from the usual Jorgmund network, but hers is faster and has a solid connection. Unfortunately, it only supports games and chats, and the TOS that pops up makes it clear (To those few who read such things) that Jorgmund will have access to the logs upon request.

Of course, everyone must make an account as well, so that their saves can be stored in the cloud as well. She does not, however, suggest to anyone but the New Hires that the password be different from their work passwords.

The games include a Bomberman-like game, some platformers, logic games, puzzle games with nearly infinite levels of increasing difficulty (one of them doesn't even seem made for humans, adapting to playstyles faster than a human can come up with them), an admittedly tripe visual novel about a human falling in love with an immortal android, and a slew of strategy and tactical games that range almost every genre (but with rather cookie cutter gameplay), including 22XX-era Minecraft and Dwarf Fortress (It's still not complete, of course, but at least there's co-op now). Oh, and some sports games. All in all, there's about thirty offerings. They're lovingly crafted, with highly detailed spritework to get around some of the limitations of the display systems available.

What isn't said is that Alia knows who's on and where they are. Sometimes she'll personally alter their gaming experience in real time, to either get them to quit in frustration or keep playing as they have a unique experience. The point of this? Well, if she's got an idea of the passwords they like to use, as well as an idea of where they are and how long they'll be there...

MAKING MERRY

[piper90npcs]

Every TV is on. There's some awful reception, but it's easy to see... It's New York! Or what remains of it. Several iconic buildings are gone and others are... warped. Twisted somehow, in nightmarish ways that cause your eyes to slide away from them. But Time's Square, at least, has been rebuilt, and the ball is there. A cheering crowd, somewhat thin by modern standards, is being interviewed by reporters, and revelry abounds as the time clicks closer to midnight.

By now, everyone is likely a little less sober. Best to give the Rig staff some distance. But it seems like one of the New Year's traditions is to kiss whoever you're closest to when the clock strikes midnight. Even though, by local time, it's long past that, Jorgmund's clocks work on that time. Just for today. Just for people to have a sense of normalcy.

Meanwhile, on the top deck, people are handing out poppers and crackers while a massive fireworks show is being triple-checked to make sure that it goes off perfectly.

You've got five minutes. Use them well.

[acroodawakening]

[Guy has been anxious about the whole night. He's been to many a feast and celebration in his time but it was all very heavily colored by celebrating things that were pretty terrible, and some of them held nasty surprises, like the time he was surprised reaped at a feast for a mini-arena where it was very vague on whether they'd get revived that time.]

[He's very confused because this so far has just been relatively pleasant and upbeat and he's not really sure what it's all celebrating if it's not, y'know, "glory be to the oppressors!" or something. It just seems like a...a normal celebration day? Celebrating something?]

[The desert night is awfully cold but he'd been curious about what everyone was doing up here, so he's wearing both his jacket and has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.]

[A staffer makes him go "gnngh!" and jump by putting a headband on his head without warning, but he relaxes when he realizes it's just part of the merriment. He takes it off and reads the words on it, made out of glittery cardboard.]

I don't - I don't understand. How can there be an New Year? Does that mean there's an old year?

[He turns to the nearest New Hire.]

I thought I jumped to Tomorrow once with my family but that was because I didn't understand anything about the orbits of celestial bodies or, uh, the nature of spacetime.

And I know people mentioned years as being a few seasons, like...one summer to the next summer, but you know, I never actually asked how all that works?

[Using that to to mark the timing of events he understands but he didn't know there was a celebration of the transition from one year to another. Or normal holidays. Or like...calendars. How do those work?]

[scavengineer]

The simplest answer is that a year is one rotation around the sun. There's no real scientific reason for the start of the new year being January 1st, it's just that way for historical reasons.

Oh, and seasons exist because the Earth is tilted slightly at it's axis, so parts of the Earth get more or less sunlight depending on where it is in orbit. That's why when its summer in the Northern hemisphere, it's winter in the Southern, and vice versa.

[Gadget wanted to be helpful, but in this case she probably wasn't managing it.]

10...9...8...7...

[just_rogue]

Rogue joined the others watching the big ball getting ready to drop. She'd managed two glasses of champagne but lost Remy somewhere in the crowd. He still had time to make it back as the countdown hadn't quite started, two minutes to midnight.

She took a shallow sip of her drink as someone set off a confetti popper early and launched into an off-key rendition of Auld Lang Syne.

[kingofneworleans]

There was a crowd on top of the Rig, but Remy still stood out among them, just a little taller than a lot of folks around him. And it helped that he looked her direction as well, grinning as he made his way over to her. Even with all the lights, he hadn't worn his sunglasses tonight. "Bonsoir, mon coeur."

CLEANING UP

[piper90npcs]

Oh, right. The day after. Guess who's sweeping the firework remnants off the deck, scrubbing burn marks off the wall, and ordered to clean up the glitter? That's right. It's you guys.

So get to cleaning.

[gempathic]

All right! Cleanup squad! I humbly accept this responsibility.

[ What can be said of Steven Universe? Apart from noting that he looks appropriately ridiculous, swimming in a too-large jumpsuit that's been folded up to its best capacity, and topping it off by wearing all 3 party hats he's found so far? Tested against the power of his hair, they are all doomed not to sit quite right. He's keeping a pocket of scavenged glitter and another pocket of scavenged confetti in case he needs to cheer someone up.

This might as well happen. Gem life is already so weird.

Apart from all that.

It can be said that he seems just really genuinely excited to be a part of this assigned duty, is what. He's building his brand on persistent cheer and apparently oblivious repeated efforts to socialize with fellow New Hires who may not actually be interested in the socializing.

He's basically doing his best. Hove anywhere in his vicinity. Try to hide away. He'll lock on like the keenest of predators. But like in a cool friendly manner.

Or he might be found staring up at a scorched wall and ceiling zone, distracted by running mental mathematics. The conclusion? ]

I might need to humbly accept a shorter responsibility.