Neon Nights [Event]

Amalie's WC: 575 Event Total: 575 / 4000
Tag: @Johann Event Notes: 1 Stamp for Drinks!

Much like the Commander, the Ambassador of Dies Irae had yet to see a display of this kind on Amber Island, or technically anywhere, in honesty. This entire theme was, in terms of attire, music, mood, and the general aesthetic of such an event very much unknown to the silver-haired male, who beheld the decorations that had been put up with overt skepticism and confusion as the two walked through the streets of the small port town by the docks. Indeed, the Magic Council had made no mystery of the fact that this holiday had a specific purpose, but that didn't change the fact that Johann, as opposed to something like a harvest festival or a summer solstice celebration, had no idea who exactly this was meant to appeal to. Honestly, he had thought the Council more serious than this. Surely, there was no one who actually enjoyed this obnoxious rumble that served as a rather weak excuse for music. Not to mention the obnoxious flares of light and especially offensive colors. It was well and truly something the man did not understand, and indeed, vehemently refused to understand, but that wasn't necessary nor asked of him anyway. Perhaps he was simply too old for, well, the trends of modern-day Earthland. Perhaps this had never been his style, or perhaps he had simply never paid attention to this part of life well enough to understand it. Still, he was, even if he wouldn't admit it, quite satisfied with the fact that Amber Island had grown to the point where holding such festivals was possible once more.

Well, it didn't matter, in the end. He had no desire to spoil the fun of others, and if they readily chose to partake in this strange festival with its strange behavior and strange attire. Not unlike Amalie, after this mission, an admittedly time-intensive, if not an arduous task, he, too, desired nothing more than a bath. After all, nothing was more soothing than that.

And yet, it didn't seem like well-deserved peace was yet meant to be, at least for the moment.

Johann's eyes would follow Amalie as he stopped, observing the swift exchange with the woman, dressed in an outfit and style that was as much as eccentric as that of almost every other person at this festival, and truly, the festival itself, though would raise a curious eyebrow when the Commander was offered drinks. Taking his steps towards the stall before finding a place next to Amalie, Johann took his own offering, a drink of a color that fit the aesthetic of today, before directing a curt, but polite "Thank you" at the girl behind the counter, a weak, courteous smile on his face. The Ambassador's eyes swiftly wandered from the stall to the cold drink in his hands, though, his head tilting slightly. He wasn't one for cocktails, in fact, his last cocktail, he recalled, he had enjoyed years prior, when Dies Irae had not yet existed, and he had still been actively involved with the West Fiore Trading Company. It was hard to believe how much time had passed and how much had happened since then. Reminiscing quietly for only a few moments, the silver-haired man was shaken from his thought when Amalie called out to him, Joh looking up from his glass to her, his briefly perplexed expression quickly giving way to a smirk. "Of course. Cheers". The quiet resonance of glass meeting glass produced a characteristic sound as soon as he had finished his sentence, and the man began walking once more, taking a sip from the liquid.

His expression swiftly soured, a distinct, but obviously suppressed cough leaving the Ambassador's throat. Not only did this cocktail taste unlike anything he had actually expected, the vibrant color had suggested fruity notes, he'd guessed, but the flavor of licorice would fill his mouth. A flavor he utterly despised. "Yes, really quite nice-", he would try to cover his little goof in a joking manner, taking another sip of the drink, and with trouble, managing to hide any immediate and obvious disgust. Whether that was all that effective, he wasn't sure. "-but I think I prefer whiskey", he would follow up swiftly, similarly unaware of the drinks side-effects as he continued to walk alongside Amalie, actively thinking of ways to get rid of the drink in his hand without having to directly dispose of it or, gods forbid, drink it all.

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Word Count: 742
Thread Word Count Total: 1,317

Amalie's WC: 1194 Event Total: 2,511 / 4000 Tag: @Johann
Event Notes: 1 Stamp for Drinks! | Combat Event - 1x Weak Monster defeated

Johann took another sip from the violently lavender-hued, almost glowing drink in the glass he held, his expression instinctively twisting into a mild form of disgust, though he did his best to suppress it, clearing his throat with a dissatisfied "Mhm". What he would give to exchange this, in his eyes, failed attempt at a cocktail for a glass of barrel-aged whiskey. Or rum. Even vodka. At least the clear spirit, even though it possessed no discernable taste of its own, would lack the appalling notes of licorice. The Ambassador took a deep, yet obviously disappointed breath. Perhaps he'd just have to find something that would lift his spirits a little more than this mixture once they were actually back at the guild hall, at home, where they could finally relax.

Well, at least that was what Johann had hoped. It seemed that, as it so often was the case, fate would run its course, and, as it seemed to be the case on every single festival these days, the Ambassador's thoughts were interrupted by a ruckus on a nearby street, the shattering of glass drawing his attention to the group of troublemakers not too far away. Still, he couldn't help but recognize the value of this more than welcome distraction and quickly dumped the contents of the glass he'd been holding onto the floor beside him. "How devious, tsehe", a familiar voice would echo through the man's mind with a cackle, Johann, as usual, paying little to no attention to the sometimes ever-present commentary offered by the Nephilim, who seemed to thoroughly enjoy this type of behavior.

Of course, the man had other things to worry about at the moment, noticing just now that the Commander had begun walking towards the group, though watching as her posture and demeanor shifted mid-way, following her with his eyes, one of his eyebrows rising slowly. The blue-haired woman didn't normally act this way, did she? What had suddenly gotten into her? Was she drunk? After only a single glass of the strange drink? Well, Johann supposed it was possible, but ... even then. To approach the rioting bunch that seemed intent on spreading anarchy so nonchalantly and carelessly in what turned out to be an attempt to mediate was a really rather strange sight, especially to the Ambassador. The man, who had had only two sips from the drink, didn't feel the same impact as the Commander, of course, not to mention the fact that his body naturally countered the effects of outside influences like this one, but he couldn't deny the fact that this situation, while admittedly bewildering, was at least somewhat amusing, a subtle, if present, grin complimenting the confused expression on his face. Was this an effect of the drink?

He paid little attention to the strange way the woman was acting, and instead followed the "conversation", if it could be called that, between the Commander and one of the members of this group, Amalie just as well could've talked to a brick wall, and even when the girl talked, she had nothing to offer but vile words and cocky insults, which were followed by her subsequent launch through the air and into one of the stalls. The Ambassador let out a light chuckle. That was more like it. Now that the fighting had started he couldn't just be left out, though, could he? "If they want to dance, then let's show them how it's done!".

With a leap of speed forward, the Ambassador would find himself in the midst of the group, surrounded by neon colors and fluorescent glow that came from strange-looking creatures. As opposed to other members of the group, these were definitely not humans. Then again, he couldn't be sure that these others were, either, with their masks, strange outfit, and otherworldly get-ups. Still, these things were somewhat abstract in form, though it mattered little. As their attention would swing around, there were 5 of them in total, to the man who had appeared in their midst, Johann was already on the offensive, a confident grin on his face. For some reason, he felt a little cockier today, quite pleased with himself, the situation at hand, and the chance to enjoy a small skirmish, snapping his fingers. Within a passing moment that appeared like an instant, the surrounding area erupted with billowing dust and smoke as the effects of gravity increased thousandfold, and even though the effect of the spell persisted for only a couple of seconds, it was enough to drive these things into the ground and completely crush them, their forms popped like bubbles. With the added effect that whatever had been in these neon-colored bubbles seemed to melt the ground where they had impacted. Strange.

Before the Ambassador could recover from his attack, though, he suddenly found himself, in turn, assaulted with a very much effective barrage of blaring noise, a rippling pain echoing through the man's skull as his enhanced hearing increased the effects of the booming soundwaves manifold. Instinctively, the man covered his ears with his hands, though this had little effect, his vision blurring with every pulse, every pounding of the heavy drums and base. He could barely hear himself think, instead, with all his might, calling for assistance from the Nephilim inside him. Mars. Do something!". The Second Seal debated responding in his normal, sarcastic manner, but he, too, disliked this particular sensory impression, even if he wasn't as affected as the Ambassador by the assault on his hearing. "Tseh. On it".

The silver-haired God of Ishgar's eyes would glaze over before, in a familiar fashion, changing color to a deep crimson, the sclera of his eyes shifting from white to a charcoal-black, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face. As opposed to before, Mars appeared unfazed by the crashing din, in an almost casual fashion, raising his hand, the noise stopping at once. The gang members that had produced the sound seemed frozen in space and entirely unmoving before, after a few seconds, collapsing to the ground, the Lord of War stopping the blood flow within their bodies, effectively suffocating them and, in the end, causing them to pass out. "You're welcome, tssehe", the Seal would cackle before retreating again, handing the vessel back to the Ambassador, who immediately took a deep breath. Fighting was, of course, fun, but not when he was unable to form as much as a coherent thought. Still, this had barely been a warm-up. So much for an entertaining skirmish ...

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Word Count: 1,089
Thread Word Count Total: 3,600 / 4,000

1x Normal Monster defeated
1x Strong Monster defeated

END OF THREAD

Amalie's WC: 453 Event Total: 4053 / 4000 Tag: @Johann
Event Notes: 1 Stamp for Drinks! | Combat Event - All Monsters defeated : 2 Stamps =  3 Stamps Total