entrancelogs | + Now the Jingle Hop has begun [OPEN] +

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Entry tags:

+ Now the Jingle Hop has begun [OPEN] +

Who: Everyone [OPEN]
Where The Ballroom
When: December 18th, 6PM-midnight (oocly however long you want to keep logging)
Rating: Well gosh, that really depends on you folks and how you behave, doesn’t it? I’m going to tentatively guess PG-13 though.
Summary: The mansion's decided to throw you all a party out of the goodness of its heart. You know, if it has one. This is the open log for the Jingle Bell Rock portion of the event!
the Story:

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring
Snowing and blowing up bushels of fun
Now the jingle hop has begun

Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock
Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time
Dancing and prancing in Jingle Bell Square
In the frosty air.

What a bright time, it's the right time
To rock the night away
Jingle bell time is a swell time
To go gliding in a one-horse sleigh
Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet
Jingle around the clock
Mix and a-mingle in the jingling feet
That's the jingle bell,
That's the jingle bell,
That's the jingle bell rock.

The ballroom is decorated extravagantly for the occasion, with all of the same sorts garland and holly and lights covering the rest of the mansion, at the moment. There is another tree at the far side of the room as well, though not nearly the size of the one in the front hall, decorated in a very classy white. From the ceiling, fake snow is falling from somewhere that can’t quite be seen, but it does not seem to gather on the floor more than a flake or two.

There are tables with chairs to one side, near a table filled with delicious food and beverages of all kinds, from wine to wassail to eggnog and more. The rest of the space is reserved for dancing.

We could tell you that the mansion is going to force you to dance forever and ever or something, perhaps until your feet fall off, but we won’t. Gosh, you’re all so suspicious. I mean really. The party-goers may wonder at first, some entering very suspicious of the mansion’s intentions, but it will quickly become apparent that for once…for once, it doesn’t seem to be a trap.

So giddy-up, jingle horse, pick up your feet and jingle around the clock. You can even go mix and mingle in the jingling feet. That’s the Jingle Bell Rock!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daniel also has delicious food and free booze! Gosh that mulled wine has a strong smell. Smells like Christmas.

When he spots Phil through the crowd, he lifts the glass in greeting and weaves his way over. He plonks the plate of roasted bird and so on onto the table, and plonks himself down on an available seat.

"All this in celebration of Christmas? The future is a wonderful place."

...It's possible that this glass is not his first.

Daniel's appearance prompts Philip to shoot the half-empty glass of bourbon next to him an accusatory glare. He's quite the happy drunk, normally, but this evening the happy has yet to catch up.

"I've been thinking about you all evening~"

...Though perhaps in a more 'Somebody help me, this situation is mortifying!' and less 'Drop your panties, Sir William; I cannot wait until lunchtime!' kind of way than his intonation might suggest.

Well hey, that's oddly toned and sort of reminds Daniel of the last conversation they had, and in fact the way he himself was talking for about three days at that point in time.

...His expression is now the visual equivalent of PFFFFFFF.

"Is that so?"

~~Yeah, he's really quite drunk.~~

"You have no idea."

It's just that last conversation that makes Philip so relieved to see Daniel. He already knows about his innuendo problem. He knows it's temporary; heck, he's been hit with the same thing!

...Plus he's pretty much three sheets to the wind, so careful wording might not exactly be an issue.

"Swallowed a lot tonight, have you?"

God, please don't let it be an issue.

Knowing that Phil's doomed to innuendoes means that Daniel's actively listening out for them, willingly or not. And now he's snickering helplessly into his hand.

So it depends what you mean by 'issue', to be honest.

This face.

Just this face.

Snhrrrrrffptbhahahaha.

"I'm sorry, Philip." He's still grinning too hard to look sorry, but it's the thought that counts? "I seem to've found myself entirely corned."

Though, for the record, he hasn't taken any of his drink since he sat down at the table.

Well, in that case Philip will take this solemn moment of snhrrrrrffptbhahahaha to down his own drink and pour himself another one.

Take your time, Da-- ah, there we go, he's talking again.

Corned doesn't exactly bring forth vivid liquor associations this time of the century, but the context sort of tosses the idea in your face. Found himself, huh?

"What? Somebody put it in when you weren't looking?"

...He knows. Shut up.

Daniel knows nothing of your cornholing or your Urban Dictionaries, so while he guesses it was meant to be suggestive, the specific meaning of that one manages to sail over his head.

"It was damned alarming at first," he admits, while scooping up the wine glass to narrow his eyes at it. His hand drifts in accordance with the waves of drunkenness. "But I guess all things considered it could be more malevolent."

'Malevolent' is one of those words that requires precise pronounciation, so maybe it wasn't the best choice Daniel could've made just now.

"...You're serious?"

See that? See?! The mansion doesn't even dare to drop another innuendo before consulting its etymological dictionary.

...Unfortunately not everyone here is quite so considerate.

Edited 2010-12-23 01:55 (UTC)

"Yes: sometimes - and I'm assured that this is the fault of the Mansion - sometimes, apparently, I will stand and walk to the nearest... place, where these things can be found..."

He's put down the glass, the better to illustratively walk two fingers across the tabletop.

"And drink, unconsciously, if you can believe it. Drat!"

Oh hell, the marching fingers just knocked his fork over.

"Oh," Philip says with words (and a frown, because... uhm, what?).

Just give him a moment.

"Oohhh."

See? Now there's an epiphany!

"...How many've you had?"

Look at this face. Does this face look like it knows how many it's had?

To Daniel's credit, he does attempt this monumental counting puzzle. But that just ends in him dissolving into more laughter at a joke which he thought of but didn't quite get around to saying.

No, wait, here it comes: "Schoolmaster, may I count on" (garbled; laughing too much) "toes as well as f" (garbled; laughing too much).

"My thoughts exactly."

It could be the glasses of bourbon finally being worth the money Philip's not paying for them or maybe Daniel's satsuma mood is just too contagious, but that punchline just there? Hilarious.

...On the one hand Philip now considers calling it a night himself. Act responsibly, stay around, make sure Daniel doesn't fling his unmentionables at the crocodile under the buffet table (or whatever it is drunk Victorians are wont to do). On the other hand?

"Cheers."

He raises his glass, chuckling. Though he does have some sage advice for his friend, just in case:

"Well, if you drink yourself under the table, just make sure it's the one I'm sitting at."

...And we promise we'll let you know what it was, as soon as we figure the original message out.

Daniel clinks his own glass loudly against Philip's. It's luck rather than judgement that has the two actually connect.

"Lucky for you I know of the mansion's tricks," he says, in a slurred parody of a stern tone. "Else I'd have to accuse you of sinful suggestions."

The faux-disapproval is ruined by another obvious snicker.

"Is there a punishment for that~?"

It briefly occurs to Philip that he should try harder to circumvent the mansion's effects, but... that effort would be kiiiiind of lost on Daniel right now, wouldn't it?

It briefly occurs to Clarence that 'not mentioning bloody spikes, wheels and brass bulls at this very moment' should be as much of a Christmas present as Phil's going to get.

Daniel has invested a lot of time and effort into convincing himself that he isn't to feel guilty or responsible for what happened. Recently, he's also been telling himself that Philip doubts the crimes happened at all. Further, he's wrapped in the comforting blanket of being shamefully crunk.

He waggles his eyebrows at Phil in answer, and knocks back a mouthful of the cooling wine. Goodness knows what that's meant to imply, but at least it's not reminiscent of those spikes and bulls and so on and so forth.

Philip has invested a lot of time and effort into shoving the subject of Daniel's guilt and responsibility into the darkest corner of his mind and covering it up with vivid portraits of a friendly Daniel, a harmless Daniel.

It's not a state of mind that's going to last, not for somebody like him, but for now, at this very moment he's ignoring the issue to perfection and doesn't for one second realise what his question mightshouldcould imply, other than mansion-prescribed perversion.

So he merely grins at Daniel's response, taking a sip from his glass. He has grand plans to play in Daniel's league of crunk tonight, but at least for now he can still wrap his head around a few more mature concerns, such as the question of what three days of binge drinking might do to your body if you're not careful.

"So how long've you been going at it? ...Drinking, I mean."

Edited 2010-12-23 19:04 (UTC)

"Awoke this morning with glass in hand."

He rests his cheek on his palm and settles down blissfully.

"Do hope it runs itself out soon," he mumbles.

Only this morning, huh?

"You'll be having a lot of fun in the next three days."

In his increasingly sluggish mind Philip is doing a conversion from cookie plates to blood alcohol.

The rough estimate prompts him to lean forward and shove the glass of water on the table closer to Daniel.

Three days, huh?

"I'm going to regret this," Daniel says, mumbling even more. He accepts the water, lifts his head to drink, and manages to whack himself in the teeth with the rim of the glass.

"You can't exactly help it."

Well.

"Of course I could always tie you up~"

Now, see, Daniel had just gotten the glass sorted out and taken a sip from it, and now the water's coming out of his nose.

For shame, Philip. For shame.

While Clarence muses about Daniel's troubling variation of spit or swallow Philip laments the lack of appreciation for a perfectly good suggestion.

But clearly, clearly Daniel is just too far gone...

"I should really get you into bed."

That one is merely a mumbled note to himself (and won't trouble Daniel in case he would like to give the water another shot).

Philip takes another sip from his glass.

Perhaps for the sake of regaining lost pride, once he's done coughing it occurs to Daniel to share with Philip a victory from earlier this evening.

"Do you know, before I spotted you I faced down a crocodile?"

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