The Neinhaus

[devilstongue]

● WHO: The Mighty Nein & Vox Machina (V9) + Friends
● WHAT: House Catch-All 2021
● WHEN: Comment Headers
● WHERE: The Neinhaus + Voxhaus + Wizardhaus
● WARNINGS: Comment Headers



CATCH-ALLS

Neinhaus
🔥 Caleb 🔥
🌊 Fjord 🌊
🌙 Mollymauk 🌙
🍄 Caduceus 🍄
🤜🏽 Beauregard 🤛🏽
🧁 Jester 🧁
🏹 Veth 🏹

Wizardhaus
✨ Essek ✨
💎 Gilmore 💎
🔪 Vax'ildan 🔪

Voxhaus
🔫 Percy 🔫
🎇 Pike 🎇
🌳 Keyleth 🌳
🐻 Vex'ahlia 🐻



HOUSE STUFF
Group House Logs
V9 Group Chat

Comments

Jonathan Sims | Wallflower Archivist

[recordingends]

[Happy to match prose or brackets! Info.]

Jon doesn't actually remember quite how he ended up in the house. He didn't even realize where he was at first until he starts seeing familiar faces. Well, mostly three. Three familiar faces: Mollymauk, who he met under dubious circumstances at best, and Caleb, and... Essek, who he--well. He's met.

He sees all of them at some point and--maybe makes it a point to avoid Molly. Well, he tries not to be obvious about it, he just feels... their last encounter sort of ended with a threat? A very friendly one.

Feeling just a bit overwhelmed, Jon retreats to a spot that he thinks might be somewhat out of the way in the garden, just sort of leaning on a wall and holding a drink he got from... someone. Somewhere. And he's content to just people watch from there, trying to figure out how all these people know each other, if they know each other. Honestly, it's not all that different than being back in his undergraduate days when Georgie found all manner of things for them to attend. Jon doesn't even dislike parties, even if they now go against his very carefully crafted image of a curmudgeon. His trip down memory lane completes itself when he feels something bump against his leg and--he actually smiles a bit when he sees Frumpkin.

"You're going to make me that person, aren't you?" he says to the cat, who he prefers not to think of as anything but a cat. He glances around furtively, then leans down so he can scritch Frumpkin behind his ears. "Well, at least you won't flirt with me."

At some point he will go in search of another drink, because if he's going to be social, he might as well be well-lubricated.

[devilstongue]

[ Like cats, Mollymauk seems to sense someone being uncomfortable around him - and also like cats, he's honing in on bothering that person immediately. It's not strange that Jon is avoiding him, of course. Considering how he left their earlier meeting with a friendly threat, he'd be surprised if he was greeted with open arms.

Still. Maybe some smoothing over is in order if Jon is going to arrive at their house parties, so the tiefling slides up next to the Archivist with a smile and another drink as a tribute. ]

Hello, darling. Enjoying yourself?

[recordingends]

[Jon actually jumps when Molly just sort of appears.

All right, so it is more likely that Molly did not just appear. In fact, his approach was probably entirely noticeable, given the sheer amount of jewelry he wears. But Jon didn't notice, too absorbed in looking elsewhere.

To cover being startled, he accepts the drink without really thinking about it.]

Ah, thank you. [Good start, Jon.] It's nice, actually, to be at an affair that this place hasn't planned. I take it another of your own has arrived?

[Don't look at the tattoos. Don't do it.]

[devilstongue]

[ Oh, he noticed that startled and actually feels a little bad. A little.

Molly takes a brief look around for any randomly appearing machines and then leans to the same wall. ]

I fully prefer these little shindigs. Plus this is a little smaller and more intimate.

[ At the question, he gestures to the magical sign. ]

Veth. She's the really small woman. Absolute delight, but watch your pockets.

[recordingends]

[So far, no tape recorders. So far. Jon tries to relax more as Molly leans on the wall.]

Lucky me, or unfortunate for her, I don't really have anything worth stealing.

[A lighter, maybe. And his cigarettes. And he actually takes a second to pat the pocket he knows those are in and--yes. They're still there. And if he loses them at some point in the night, that's fine. He can replace both of them: he's been quite diligent in trying to collect credits with his clothes on.]

It's nice that there are so many of you here. Well, I guess nice is a strange way to put it.

[But Molly knows what he means, right? Jon has been on his own since getting here, and, if not for a couple of stubborn people, he would probably still be alone.]

[devilstongue]

Oh, worth doesn't matter. She likes buttons.

[ ...and just the thrill itself, he's sure. Molly watches Jon check his pockets with a slightly amused grin on his face, before he nods a bit. ]

It's nice to see them, yeah, but I'm not exactly fond of more of my friends trapped in this place.

[ He doesn't do well on his own, so it was a blessing that Fjord had been there when he arrived - the mistakes and distrust at first aside. Jon was alone here, Molly could figure out that much, but it also meant he didn't have to worry about his friends and how this place might put them in bad situations.

Sure, some growth had been good, but other things... well. ]

cw: description of scars

[recordingends]

[Jon catches sight of Oran mingling with someone before he disappears back inside. Oran is the reason he's staying, though if he manages to socialize more it won't be a bad thing.]

If my clothes start falling off, I'll know who to find.

[God, he hopes he doesn't lose buttons tonight. As far as he can remember, the only person here that's seen him without a shred of dignity is Oran, and he thinks he'd like to keep it that way if he can. Jon doesn't have particularly high hopes for that ambition, though.

It's impossible to ignore Molly's very physical presence, and Jon finds himself looking at the scars exposed by the crop top. He has plenty of his own, but Molly's look--he can't decide the word he wants. Many of them look to have been caused by the same thing. The only uniformity Jon has is in the circular scars dotting his face and neck. And arm. And, perhaps, the distinct blade-marks on his throat. He hasn't looked at this with any deep attention lately so he can't really recall how even they look.]

cw continued

[devilstongue]

As long as you're aware! She's full of mischief, that one.

[ He sounds utterly fond when he speaks of Veth, even if it was still difficult to connect their little scrappy goblin with this lovely halfling that was both married and had a kid. At least they were both the same feral messes.

Those deep red eyes notice the glance Jon gives to his exposed scars - arms covered with them, intermingled and somewhat hidden by the tattoos, neck and shoulders littered with slices traveling down the chest until hidden by the crop top, then even a bit further under that. Molly found that scars always told interesting stories (even if he mostly made his up) and Jon seemed to have had an interesting life, to say the least. The round ones are curious, and so is the mark at his neck. It seemed a lot more serious than the ones that marked his own. ]

You wanna trade scar stories or just enjoying the view?

cw continued for a while probably

[recordingends]

[Jon should know by now that looking at anyone is no longer a subtle venture for him. Still, he feels caught out when Molly asks. Not enough to be apologetic, however.]

The uniformity is interesting, [he says at last. He certainly is not going to admit to any aesthetic interest beyond that. But he does want to know, and soliciting stories is far safer than asking.] I am curious to know where they come from. And if you'd like to know about mine... I'll tell you.

[It seems only fair.]

[devilstongue]

[ Good insight, surprisingly shitty charisma. ]

Well, I'm not shy about sharing!

[ He grins, dramatically gesturing to his own scars. ]

Dropped my scimitar while learning to juggle. [ Molly starts, pointing at one on his forearm. ] Battle wound, battle wound, battle wound... [ He continues, moving his finger to some of the slightly wider and less uniform ones. ] Accidentally stabbed myself on a kitchen knife... and the rest are self-inflicted.

[ There's a small shrug. In all honesty he doesn't fully know that's true, but seeing how his powers work and the scars he made on himself by using it, it makes sense. ]

[flurry_of_beaus]

Beau's generally speaking very wary of people. She doesn't trust easily and sometimes only trusts in a very specific way, despite seeming to get along with people. But she does take an interest in how other people interact with those she cares about. And "those she cares about" include one fey creature more often in the guise of an orange cat.

So she watches the guy pet Frumpkin, curious at first and then deciding to make a move.

"Don't like the party?" Maybe she comes off a little brusque, but that's just her natural charm.

[recordingends]

The accent is all wrong, but her voice, and the way she talks, makes Jon think immediately of Daisy. He's almost hopeful for a second as he looks up from the cat, but--No. Of course it wouldn't be her.

He clears his throat and stands up straight again, leaving Frumpkin to twine around his legs.

"No, I--It's actually been quite a while since I went to one. Other than the ones I've felt compelled to attend here." And he is keenly aware that he hasn't exactly been invited, and he's lost sight of anyone here that might know him. "It's sort of nice to see people enjoying themselves with their clothes on."

Maybe he shouldn't have said that last part.

[flurry_of_beaus]

Beau makes a little grunting noise, probably an acknowledgment and agreement with what he's said, but it's still a noise not a straight answer.

It's not until after she's had a sip of her drink that she decides to grin ruefully.

"Yeah, well, give it a few hours and we'll see where Molly's at, right? Don't trust him not to get naked at any opportunity."

[recordingends]

Jon... would not be surprised if it were Mollymauk that started losing clothes first. He doesn't look like he has a lot to start with, so it's not really a far leap. And he feels a bit of heat creep into his face, which he tries to just will away. Ridiculous.

"No, I can imagine that he... would be the person to start it."

Jon takes a drink from his cup, maybe deeper than he has been. The last time he got drunk he ended up in bed with another man called John and that--isn't something he's terribly keen to repeat. But he could probably stand to be less suspicious over here against the wall.

"Oh, uhm. I'm Jonathan." She sounds like she's familiar with Molly, so he adds, "Do you know everyone that lives here?"

[flurry_of_beaus]

Beau raises an eyebrow. Slight color to his cheeks, a long drink off his cup. Beau's got a feeling that this guy has feelings about Molly, of some sort. She assumes the sexy kind, but she wouldn't be surprised by something else.

"Beau." She nods her head in a bit of a jerking motion instead of offering her hand.

"I live here, too. I'm one of the Mighty Nein. So, yeah, everybody."

[recordingends]

Jon returns the nod, rather appreciating that she doesn't try to touch him. He'd shake her hand, of course, but he's also not disappointed to not have to.

"The Mighty Nine?" he echoes, and he absently tries to count the people that seem to know each other. He gives up sooner than later: there's too many, and he has no idea what their ties to each other are.

"I think I've only met Mollymauk," he says after a moment. "Oh--does Essek live here?"

Jon's pretty sure he saw him earlier. That would be two.

[flurry_of_beaus]

There's that slight, tell-tale pause where someone clearly is confused by the number of persons in their group, counting them up in their head and wondering. But, in this instance, maybe because she's a little tipsy and doesn't care about the guy yet, she doesn't correct him and explain.

"Essek lives next door now," she says. "He's Nein-adjacent."

Adopted into. A friend. These are things she could say, but they still in her throat. It's still too soon after their conversation to use such terms.

[vegalthon]

"Jon," Oran says, swinging around after a first round of the house. The garden is nice; he's vaguely in awe and feeling a little envious that people have built this place up for a party... and on the one hand, the tiefling has been carefully balancing willful ignorance that Even is still grumping on someone's couch somewhere, and a terrible fear that he's going to be all alone.

So: party. Party with the other tiefling on the island, with his favourite human in tow, with one drink in one hand and a very real likelihood of a second one in the other, with the way the night is going.

But he has to check on Jon, because the man's been a lifeline and Oran isn't going to abandon him. "How's the cat?" Because he knows better to ask the human directly.

[recordingends]

Jon offers Oran a small smile when he appears. He'd lost sight of his tiefling--he probably shouldn't think of Oran and Even as his anything, but. Well.

He feels his face getting warm at that train of thought and tries to quash it before it runs too far. He looks down at Frumpkin.

"Oh, he's fine. We've met a few times now."

He's being that person, isn't he? The one in the corner making friends with the pets. He doesn't mean to, but there are a lot of very large personalities - and bodies - here and it's a bit overwhelming. It doesn't help that he keeps catching flickers of... interest. Like seeing little lights that he wants to uncover. Drag out.

Jon looks at Oran and smiles as he nudges gently against him.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Things have been a bit rough recently, he knows. And Even has sort of disappeared, so Jon has been trying to just... be available for Oran. It's not a hardship.

[vegalthon]

"You know what, not as much as right now." He hunkers down to offer a hand to the cat, using that motion to press his tail against Jon's leg. The little touch helps ground him. "Thank you for coming with me. I'm used to talking to people here about potions and components. It's not... really party talk, you know?"

When Frumpkin gives his finger a whisker nudge, he returns the gesture with a scritch. "Well, maybe for you, but I'm sure that not everyone loves shoppe talk."

[recordingends]

Jon smiles as Oran says that and as his tail presses against his leg. He is grateful.

"Well, you were very insistent," he teases gently, as if he had no choice in the matter. "And... I thought it would be nice to have some fun."

To get Oran out and around other people and distracted. There's no harm in having a good time, right? And it's worth it to see Oran smiling.

"No, I suppose not everyone would be eager to argue cataloging techniques, either. It's been a while since I went to anything like this." He doesn't count the last party the robots pulled together, as everything there was spiked or drugged or otherwise designed to induce certain moods.

Jon hesitates a moment, but when Oran stands straight again, he leans to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

[vegalthon]

The familiar touch is a relief; Oran grins into the kiss, turning to briefly press his nose to Jon's. Any irony over his recent interaction with the cat is lost on him.

"Well, at least there's enough drink to incapacitate a bull. Want to come get some?" It's helped for a lot of other things, after all. Oran takes a sip of his own glass before offering it over in lieu of leaving the safe corner.

"Anyways, this is a far sight nicer than things were when we were dropped here. Seems like the right thing to do to make it a happy event?"

[recordingends]

"It is, far nicer. And I suppose I'm grateful that newer arrivals have some infrastructure here to work with."

Jon moves a little bit closer, until he can sort of press against Oran's side. Because he does like being close, and while he's a bit shy with public affection, he can certainly do this much.

"Yeah, I could probably use a refill, actually."

He's been nursing the same drink for a while, trying to make it last so he wouldn't have to venture out again too soon. But, if he's going with Oran, he'll be all right.

[vegalthon]

"Exactly," Oran says, almost as if talking about the weather... but... he's Oran. "Means less work for us, too." Auspicious acts, of course.

That is, assuming that the Augur is bringing in ever greater numbers and that some people are not mysteriously vanished, as if they have served their purpose and are therefore yeeted back into the aether.

Oran takes a deep sip of own cup, maybe two. "Should we introduce ourselves? Oh! Have you met a halfling before?" That could be a stumbling block, couldn't it?

[recordingends]

"Before I came here, I never met anyone that wasn't... mostly human-looking." Variations on a theme, sure, but most of them passable. And since getting here, he's met non-humans. Mostly tieflings, as it turns out, but he's seen others.

"But I think I can manage myself, if you're worried about me embarrassing you."

Maybe he's never properly met a halfling, but he's managed himself in social situations. And he's had at least one drink now, so maybe that will help. A second certainly won't hurt.