Accidents Happen When You're Crazy (x3)

NOTE: Scene was played on 10/4/19 and backdated to IC date on 10/2/19 for Turnover.


Xanadu Weyr - Firelizard Theatre
A natural clearing in the forest has grown a different sort of tree. The Courtyard of the Firelizard holds grass trampled into dirt around the wooden play structures.

In the northern part of this field lies a jungle-gym like fort, with two towers that soar to fifteen feet of height. One of them adjoins a large open deck with spiral staircase up and a metal slide down. That aside, the structure's made almost entirely of wood, the boards locked together either by being interlocked or by huge wooden bolts hammered into the boards. The towers are studded with uneven boards and rough spots, various climbing challenges on each of their faces. A swaying rope bridge with wooden slats connects the towers, and beneath it there's a sealed tunnel to run through or play minecraft.

Just past the fort, there are wooden sit-toys carved and painted into the likeness of dragons. They're about two feet high and four feet long, though the green is smaller than the blue. There's a place for a child to sit on the dragon's back, with their feet resting on the dragon's paws and hands on the bars bars attached to the neck of the dragon. Pushing with hands or feet will make the dragon rock and writhe.

In the middle of the field are two sets of swings, suspended by rope from from a wooden beam that's held up by crossbraces on either side. There's a set of monkey bars, made entirely out of wood but carefully polished until the dark bars glow, and a set of seesaws. The sandbox is set back a little from the rest, filled with sand from Xanadu's beach and scattered with buckets and shovels.

Trees border the area, including a massive Lemosian ironwood that has beneath its branches wooden benches with a view of the playground.

It’s TURNOVER and that means there’s celebrations happening… only not so much here, because the Firelizard Theatre doesn’t see much action at night. Yet here’s Keruthien, chilling on one of the swings, a bottle of liquor in hand (don’t worry, it’s only got maybe a quarter left in it, at best). All the easier to nurse it slowly, when you’re strictly limited and not near further temptation! Speaking of, perhaps that’s why he’s so removed from all the FUN happening? Perhaps! Or he’s had his fill elsewhere and is now catching his breath. Regardless, he is HERE and he looks happy as a calm to be in the quiet of the forest.

DON'T WORRY, KERUTHIEN, THE FIRELIZARD THEATRE MAY HAVE BEEN DULL BEFORE, BUT THE PARTY HAS ARRIVED! Okay, okay, so Stefyr doesn't look like much of a party, but he's swallowing down something from a dark glass bottle that is producing coughs from the candidate as he strolls onto the scene. It's only a matter of time before glum-faced Stefyr becomes the party incarnate by this measure, even if he's not intending to do more than take the edge off. Keruthien is spotted on the swing and the man's plodding path takes him to lean on the frame of the swings. (Really, you know they're bromates because they ended up in the same unpopulated place tonight. GREAT MINDS, Y'ALL.) "Does Risali burn things every Turnover or is tonight special? I wouldn't go to the beach if I were you, by the way. I feel like people are likely to need healers before the night is over there."

Is it fate or magnetism? BOTH!? Either way, Keruthien looks up at the sound of coughing and approaching footsteps, squinting a bit in the dimming light of evening in an attempt to suss out any recognizable features. Stefyr may not be much of a party, but his arrival is certainly welcomed and he’s quick to grin once the other Candidate joins him. “I’m gonna go with the safe bet that yes, she does burn things on Turnover? Because who wouldn’t! And why shouldn’t I? Sounds like a lot of fun, if I wasn’t already tapped out.” So where has he been!? He doesn’t elaborate, rather peering sidelong and curiously to his fellow bro~ “I’m gonna guess you’ve had your fill too?”

"Well, I wouldn't bet against you." It is, as the other candidate said, a safe bet. "Are you always so willing to get burnt? I mean, you're a Smith so that automatically makes you—" The bottle waves at Keruthien before Stefyr tips it back for another swallow, "Crazy. I mean, you're from Xanadu, so that's crazy twice. Crazy crazy. And you accepted a knot. Crazy three times over. Crazy crazy crazy." He eyes the other young man, "And you have curly hair," which doesn't get a 'crazy' addition, but he seems to be contemplating the curls a little over-long. That drink goes right to the head of a man who usually drinks ale and only sparingly. The bottle is not ale, in case anyone was wondering. "I want to go home tonight." He says with a sigh, but then, "No, I don't. I don't want to go home and see them. I don't want to watch Gaelis be happy." He says it like a dirty word and then casts Keruthien a sad look, a sad, sad puppy look. "Did you ever love anybody?"

“Do you think being crazy three times over nulls and voids it?” Keruthien wonders out loud, while also chuckling under his breath. He’ll lift that bottle of his, tipping it slightly in toast to Stefyr and not at all arguing that he ISN’T crazy. Which is both funny and worrisome! Tipping the bottle to his lips, he’ll take a shallow swig and only vaguely grimace at the kickback of whatever poison he’s indulging in. “Fire’s fine, by the way, if you respect it. Beach is probably best place to do a big ‘un… as you got sand all around.” Wait, how does that make sense? Then Stefyr is going down a long tangent and Ruthien is kind enough to gesture to the swing beside him. “Homesick, huh?” he ventures to gently assume, while not quite prying too hard as to who Gaelis is. His shoulders lift in a shrug, “Not really? At least, not that I’m aware. Won’t lie, I’ve slept with a fair number but love? Nah.” There’s a faint grin, easy going and disarming. “Is that what’s got you down?”

Stefyr gives the question its due, serious consideration. A finger on his free hand points, going back and forth in the blank air. "Nope." He decides after a moment of this, popping the "p." "If it were twice it would cancel. Three times and you're still left with one." Then he grins, madly, "They're making me do sums with the children when I help the Harper and the lesson is math." Because he needs it, okay? But at least 2+2 is finally always equaling 4. "Yeah, the beach." It's agreed well after the topic has shifted back and come again. "At home they do a bonfire. No beach there. Just big rocks and a big dug out fire stop. Far away from the buildings. But it's like what's going on out there, but smaller. Still a lot of food, and drink," he wiggles his bottle and take another sip, giggling after. YES, THAT WAS A GIGGLE. SO WHAT. HE'S FINE. FINE. "I've never slept with anyone," it's almost like he didn't realize that was something he should care about until he's comparing his record with Keruthien. "Loved one, I thought. She married my brother." He hiccups. Shh, it's still fine, nothing is wrong here. He looks down at his bottle. "I left because I don't want to …" He trails off, brows dipping in deep, deep, deep thought. "Ruin everything," he finally finishes, lamely. But at least he's retaining enough sense to overwrite whatever more colorful phrases came to mind.

Keruthien clucks his tongue in disappointment. “Damn. So it’d be four times over? Dunno if I could top that,” he muses, matching that very same mad-tinged grin. There’s a wrinkle of his nose, “Sums are annoying and unfortunately necessary.” Says the SMITHCRAFTER, who probably relies heavily on such skills! Just because he has the knowledge, doesn’t mean he needs to enjoy it, right? There’s a quiet nod as he listens to the explanation of bonfires and differences, though his focus turns sharp for that GIGGLE! It brings a small snicker from him in turn. SURE, HE’S FINE! And Keruthien’s perfectly sane. “Ah, well,” he sobers a bit, tilting that bottle again and eyeing the contents. It’s not dismissive, so much as it’s to give Stefyr some safety and not feel pinned down by attention to the conversation topic. “Wouldn’t sweat that. Y’got all the time in the world!” More or less, but Ruthien isn’t teasing him about it. Far from it! Ooh, then they’re getting real deep and comfy with the sharing of secrets and it’s here that he pauses for a moment. “Well shit,” SMOOTH. “That’s rough.” Gently sympathetic, without actually saying so. Silence carries between them, heavy but comfortable until at last he sighs to break it. “Yeah.” he breathes. “Yeah, I get that. Still sucks, though but damn if you don’t got some strength to you to know you had to leave…” Was it the best choice? Probably not. He’s not here to judge though and won’t, because only Stefyr knows what’s best for him! He’s just here to be a shoulder to cry on and a good one at that.

"I'm an asshole," Stefyr confides next in too loud a whisper. "Shh. I try not to be. I'm better here. Not as…" Those words are so slippery. And he shrugs. "I think maybe back home I just got overshadowed by all the bigger assholes so I came out seeming nice. Maybe that's happening here, too." He muses, glancing down at his bottle but perhaps thinking better of it because he crouches to set it down on the ground. LEAVING IT FOR THE KIDDIES NO DOUBT. (ASSHOLE.) "I'm trying. To be better. It works, mostly." Since he hasn't appeared to be a raging asshole since his arrival and all. Actually, Stefyr's definition of asshole might be the problem. The world holds such a wide variety of those; he may just lack experience enough to realize that he's low on that ladder. He looks down at his hands and seems surprised to find them empty. Then. "Oh. Shit." A bewildered, helpless look is cast toward Keruthien. "I think I'm drunk. Shitshitshit."

Slippery words! Yet Keruthien spins them. “Everyone’s an asshole at some point! Even I am… actually, don’t comment on that, okay?” He laughs then and only then, because the joke is pointed at himself and not so much Stefyr’s current emotional state. “Eh, or maybe you’re actually not that bad and are just trying to do your best in a shitty situation?” It’s offered slowly, as though he’s testing the theory for himself on the fly, even going as far as to peer at him to gauge the reaction. Yeah? No? Only what’s offered instead has him blinking. “… y’serious?” He’d been swaying a little on his swing, in an idle sort of way but now he’s stopped. HIS bottle, with contents not fully consumed, is set down and he’ll twist to lean in and get a very close look to Stefyr. “Do you feel all warm and numb or did you go past that?” IMPORTANT questions!

Oh, he's serious. SERIOUS-LY FREAKING OUT. "Shit shit shit." Does he know other words? Stefyr tries to stand from his crouch and falls on his rear. Now, that is probably some combination of the freaking out and the drink; both can be disconcerting. "I didn't mean to get— shit." The big blond moves his hand aiming to touch his nose and jabs himself just under the eye to the side of the nose, "Ow, fuck." Then, a wide-eyed puppy look at Keruthien. "Shit. What do I do?" When in doubt, ask the less intoxicated person in the room. Even if they're crazy x3. Or was it x4. STEFYR DOESN'T EVEN KNOW.

“Take a deep breath! Calm down.” Keruthien’s instructions come with a firmness lined with an undercurrent of laughter because, sorry not sorry, this is hilarious! At least for the first bit. Then he’ll sober and push off the swing, coming to his aid by offering his hand. “Come on, I’ll help you up! That’ll be a start. Then we’re gonna go for a nice long walk and we’re gonna do our best to pretend nothing’s up, okay? Think you can manage that much?” It’s basically his way of saying I GOT YOU BRO! Ruthien’s craziness apparently extends to keeping Stefyr safe from being caught. The question is… WILL IT WORK!? The night is young and with celebrations going on, who knows what (or WHO) is prowling about. “Guess you’re a bit of a light weight, huh?” He says this with affection, honest!

Stefyr's giggle is not reassuring. Not reassuring. Still, he'll make the effort to get up with Keruthien's help, breathing… and then giggling again. NOTHING IS UP. NOTHING AT ALL. Hopefully Keruthien can manage to keep Stefyr far away from eyes that would punish this accidental infraction. The giggles (oh, and there are more of them) would definitely give them away. NOTHING'S UP! GIGGLE. HICCUP. NOTHING AT ALL. Oops.

This is bad! This is very bad! Why? Because Keruthien can’t help but be infected by those giggles and start giggle-scoffing himself, if not outright laughing at times. Because hey, he’s been drinking a bit too but not to the point of drunkeness. That and he’s one to always face things with a devil-may-care attitude! Stefyr will be guided away and kept close, as they vanish into the night and who knows if his half-baked ploy will see them safely through! ONLY TIME WILL TELL! Maybe their stories will match up this time?

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