Closed to Gwen's close CR

[singlelogbridge]

CHARACTERS: Gwen and friends
LOCATION: The music room
DATE: 12/21
CONTENT: Gwen's surprise birthday!
WARNINGS: None atm

[It isn’t difficult to get Gwen to accompany him to the music room. He’d mentioned forgetting his flute there and she’d already been walking through the mess hall (a good sign!) when he asked her to accompany him. Along the way he chatters endlessly about nothing important, doing his best to keep her thoughts occupied until they arrive.

When Wei Wuxian opens the door and allows her to proceed in front of him, many things happen at once. A song begins to play from somewhere in the room. (Later, Gwen can connect her own phone as a music player if she’d like, but for the moment Wei Wuxian has created his music recording arrays around the room and set them to play various songs when activated. Huaisang can be thanked for the timely start of "22" as she walked in.

A small handful of her closest friends on the Ximilia also greet her with varying levels of enthusiasm. There is a beautifully decorated cake set up on a table and tasteful elegant decorations line the walls and ceiling (thanks Huaisang.) Wei Wuxian's butterfly arrays are also flying around, shimmering gold and silver. Familiar faces greet her from the room. Mccoy smiling warmly, Huaisang dressed to the nines, Itachi leaning against a wall, nodding at her when she catches his eyes, Degar too and a handful of others.

It’s an intimate gathering, but one obviously put together with affection and care.

At her side, Wei Wuxian nudges her and adds to the chorus of "Happy birthdays" coming from the room.]

[ooc: please feel free to make your own top levels and threadjack!]

Comments

[construing]

I. SHAKE IT OFF BIRTHDAY GIRL DOES THE ROUNDS 〈 gwen's initial reaction is very close to panic. in the midst of a stellar impression of a deer caught in the headlights, she does not immediately process anything that is happening. only the weight of wei wuxian's arm dropping around her shoulders brings her back. even then, the first words out of her mouth are, 〉 What is happening? 〈 once she overcomes her surprise, she flits everywhere in the room, wearing a smile fit to power the station. at any point she can be found: 1. fiddling with the music 2. convinced to play along on the drums 3. squealing over a giant platter of corn dogs 4. taking five million photos of her cake 5. or just reaching out to any person with a delighted "hi! having fun?" 〉 (open to all.)

II. WILDEST DREAMS THE OBLIGATORY DOPEY SPEECH Hi. 〈 gwen lowers the triangle she used to call for attention before dumping it unceremoniously on the table. 〉 Uh, so before we cut the cake— Well, it’s my birthday! So, I think I’m allowed, as Jess would say, one dopey speech. I promise to keep it short. 〈 her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth as she thinks. she takes a breath. 〉 This season…tends to be rough for me. Always has been. Even when I was home and I had my dad and my friends and my sweet, old neighbors… I felt really lonely. For a number of reasons that I proooobably should unpack exclusively with a therapist. 〈 she makes a little face. someone please laugh. 〉 Point is I tend to get in my head a lot. I worry a lot. All the time, actually. And I’m so busy worrying about the people back home and things that aren’t happening…that I forget to be here. Right now. With you guys. Because—people come and go all the time. Ximilia just makes that process a little quicker. But no matter how brief, this time together matters. I made good friends. I found family too. And I’m really grateful to you all. You made this a really great birthday. That’s it. 〈 a little pause. she throws her hands in the air. 〉 Let’s have cake! (more for reference, but if her dopiness speaks to you, here you go.)

III. WILDCARD EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT IF YOU KEEP ME NEXT TO YOU… 〈 what it says on the tin! also: there was a group photo. participation was nonnegotiable. 〉

II

[homeostatic]

( a speech like that deserves enthusiastic claps. definitely an appreciative whistle or two as well, before he meets her by the cake table, ready to assist. it's been a trying week for everyone, but moments like this, as he takes in gwen's beaming smile, the bounce in her step, that make it all worth it. )

Alright, Birthday Girl gets the first slice. It's vanilla sponge with strawberry filling, ( he explains, giving her a plate and a wink, ) A McCoy and Uchiha specialty.

[construing]

〈 gwen laughs. 〉 No. Really? 〈 she looks for itachi in the small crowd, finding him quickly and grinning his way.

when she faces mccoy again, it is with all the glee of a best friend about to put her dear, beloved, bestest pal on full blast. 〉

Oh, man, did I ever tell you about the horrifying hyper-realistic onigiri he made one day?

[homeostatic]

( he's thoroughly not sorry for ratting him out like that, okay, but more importantly )

What constitutes 'hyper-realistic'? ( his brows do that little worried-and-concerned tweak up ) Do I even want to know?

[construing]

〈 yes. yes, he does. and considering how fast gwen whips out her phone, he is about to see for himself. 〉

Context: I asked for cat-shaped onigiri. I expected, you know. Little ball of rice face. Ears. Cutesy eyes and nose.

I got…〈 mad scrolling through her photo album culminates in— 〉this.

ii.

[spikedbats]

[ as if steve was going to miss this. if there's one thing the ximilia crew does right, it's parties, and this is no exception, so it seems.

and, shit, if gwen's speech doesn't kick him right in the feels. pay no attention to the tears forming, he's just got something in his eye, okay. but he raises a glass at the end, takes a nice long drink, and prepares himself for cake. ]

First cronuts, now cake. I'm beginning to think our whole friendship might be based around food. [ he goes for a more light-hearted conversation starter, because otherwise he would be prone to rambling about how much her speech resonated with him. and it's gwen's birthday, so now is definitely not the time to unpack everything, he'll just do that never later, in the confines of his own room. probably.

maybe. ]

[construing]

〈 gwen got the first slice (very honored, one minute away from getting emotional all over again), but rather than finish it off (a sacrifice, to be sure), she opted to help mccoy hand out slices to everyone present.

steve's she presents with an absolutely unnecessary flourish after hearing him. 〉

Okay, but name me a better base for anything other than food. You cannot. 〈 check and mate. 1-love, gwen. 〉

[spikedbats]

[ steve pretends to consider gwen's hypothesis, as if there was anything that he could come up with. well, he could think of one thing, and maybe the old steve, the one who picked a fight with jonathan byers and was friends with tommy h and carol would have been quick to mention it, but he's grown up now.

crawling forwards. ]

Yeah, you've got me there. [ he grins as he accepts the slice of cake, fond expression never leaving his face. ]

Enjoying yourself so far, I hope?

[construing]

Yeah! It’s been fun. I—

〈 she breaks off in a little laugh. 〉

I was not expecting anything like this when I woke up today.

I - 2

[dragonmount]

You're a musician, too?

[ with gentle amusement, as the song she was playing along with comes to an end. the tone is very is there anything you can't do? with a built-in expectation that the answer is no. rescuing friends from evil AIs, playing the drums — being so lovable that her friends would surprise her with something like this. ]

[construing]

I'm a musician first, 〈 she corrects, twirling a stick in her hands. with how deftly she wields it, it seems to briefly become part of her. 〉

Drummer of The Mary Janes at your service. 〈 she falls smoothly into the intro to "face it, tiger", then points one of the sticks at him. 〉 I also take requests.

[dragonmount]

I can see that now.

[ the truth of that is clear in how easily she handles the drumsticks, plays the drums like it's as natural as breathing.

he takes a little half-step backwards at the not-not-an-offer, shaking his head. ]

I'm afraid I don't know much music. Nothing I could ask you for.

[ up on the growing list of ways he's trying not to be a downer: not bringing up the riding song he knows, that turned out to be about a doomed historical battle. ]

[construing]

〈 what kind of sad, music-less existence has tol red-haired boy been experiencing? 〉

Then, have you heard anything you like? You can start your music education right here.

〈 music continues to pour from the sound system. wei wuxian's arrays and her own playlist range through genres—pop, classic rock, punk to name a few—and artists. taylor swift, of course, the ramones, paramore, stevie nicks… music of her childhood, drummers that helped define her style, bands and artists she loves.

she does not know how long wei wuxian was taking notes, but it must have been a while. 〉

I-4

[heroooic]

[Finn felt a little awkward showing up at a party for someone he’d only just met. But Gwen seemed…cool. Decidedly very cool. Her speech, nervy as it was, only confirms that for him. And while there were a lot of faces he didn’t recognize here, and a growing handful he did, there was something reassuring about the fact that with everything going on, a birthday party was still a priority.

At the very least, he intended to wish her a happy birthday, spotting her easily by the table of food. She was taking an awful lot of pictures of that cake. He could see one, maybe two, but girl was going to town. He walks up, hands behind his back as he watches with an amused smile.]

Is it the cake’s birthday too? [Lame joke.]

[construing]

〈 gwen does not hesitate. 〉 Yep. Make sure to wish it a happy day.

〈 finally lowering her phone, she quirks a little smirk finn's way. 〉

Gotta make sure I get the perfect angle. Check it out.

〈 she is no peter parker, but the photo belongs on instagram. (rip social media.) 〉

[heroooic]

[Finn looks at it, nodding in appreciation. Marveling secretly at how streamlined her phone was while he was at it.]

Pretty cool. [He assumes she’ll be keeping it for a scrapbook. Analog instagram.] So. We allowed to eat the cake, or do you have more b-day activities planned with her?

[construing]

If it tastes as good as it looks, I might have to marry it.

〈 find yourself someone who looks at you like gwen looks at food. 〉

My impending nuptials aside, 〈 she pockets her phone cheerfully, 〉 you're in luck. Everyone's getting a slice.

〈 a simple and straightforward celebration today. there are maybe two people, not counting herself, that she is certain know "happy birthday", three definite nos, and a handful of :shrug:. the cake is missing the traditional candles too not that she minds. it looks so pretty that the addition of candles would ruin it. plus—no idea what to even wish for. 〉

Wildcard

[singlelogbridge]

[After Gwen has settled into the party and when she's between chatting with various party guests, it's an easy thing to sidle close to her and slip an arm around her back, hitting her immediately with a warm mischievous smile.]

I need to steal you for a moment. [Well.] Several moments. Come on, follow me. [He slips his hand into hers then and pulls her away to a corner of the room where there's a small table set up further away from the other snacks and the beautiful cake. Instead there is only a single bowl on the table, and Wei Wuxian removes a napkin laying over it to reveal a steaming bowl of noodles. At first glance, it will look like a bowl of noodles, but a closer more thorough look reveals it as a bowl of noodle, singular.

He grins and nudges her shoulder.]

I know birthdays are celebrated differently where you're from, but this is something I'm sharing with you from my home. Longevity noodles. It's tradition. [He beams at her.]

[construing]

〈 the dish smells delicious. and first glance does not reveal an absurdity of burn-the-roof-of-her-mouth-and-her-throat-and-stomach spice. (not a surety. the heat could be lurking, waiting for a trusting and unsuspecting person to innocently take a bite.)

no, what draws her interest—what she tests, picking up the chopsticks provided and lifting one of the loops— 〉

This looks like one noodle.

〈 a lightbulb pops into being over her head and audibly clicks on. she gasps. 〉

Wait. Wait. Is this the dish that the noodle can't be cut or else you, like, die?

[singlelogbridge]

[He bursts into happy laughter at that, shaking his head no, pausing, and then nodding yes instead.]

It's bad luck to cut it! So you have to eat it without breaking the noodle. The noodle represents a long happy life lived.

[He grins.] What do you think, are you up for the challenge?

[construing]

〈 gwen smiles.

this? this is her purpose. this is what her life has been driving towards. this feat is once in a lifetime. a triumph that will not be repeated anywhere, by anyone, in any universe.

if wei wuxian suddenly feels a drop of fear, it's because he should be very afraid.

without a word, gwen shoves her sleeves past her elbows. she stretches her neck. the chopsticks return to the table. she picks up the bowl. around her head, the familiar hood and mask of spider-woman take form—with a key difference. the featureless face rips open. the jaw unhinges: a horrifying maw of white teeth, lights glistening off their wicked points.

it takes her and venom less than two seconds to swallow the noodles, bowl and all.

venom pulls away from her head once more, retreating beneath her skin. gwen makes a little "mm!" noise, chewing. she reaches into her mouth and removes a piece of ceramic from the bowl. 〉

Sorry. We got a little excited there.

〈 she hands the piece back to wei wuxian. 〉

[blackfire]

（ he is not especially good at gifts. they did not feature heavily in his life, and the ones that he tended to both give and receive were related somehow to weaponry. a sharp knife. a strong bow. it was not until he arrived here, and began watching the exchange of material objects that he realized there is a common thread between many of them — the gifts are, by and large thoughtful, but superfluous. nothing to keep one alive, or safe, or fed behind enemy lines. nothing intended to kill or wound or capture.

he does not wish to give her anything purchased — that is too contrary to his nature. instead, he gives her art, the only thing of himself he has sought to cultivate intentionally since arriving here.

he had spent some time in the simulation room perfecting it. a picture of new york, from the perspective of one of its tallest buildings, done in a manner faintly reminiscent of the ukiyo-e style in its later period when landscapes became en vogue. indeed, the picture looks as if it could have come off a woodblock print, strong clean lines and just the faintest touch of artistic whimsy. when he originally took up drawing as a cover story in vrefesea, he drew with the exacting recollection of the sharingan, and all of his drawings and paintings were almost uncanny in how perfect they were. there had been nothing in it of art. but this? this has a heart and soul that's just a little out of step with the reality of the place itself.

the drawing is done on silk, showing the city at night in the hush of newly fallen snow. distantly, the sun is rising. everything glistens. there is no real signature, though she might recognize the little blot that resembles a tiny spider that had been dipped in ink and marched determinedly across the bottom of the page as being a bit too perfectly similar to the poem he'd gifted her months ago. given that venom was unlikely to have made the same mistake twice, this is probably as intentional an indication of whence it came as she's going to get.

the art isn't framed — instead, carefully bundled in a tube of cardboard and capped ends, leaning up against the wall near the cake. nondescript, it might easily be overlooked.

and itachi?

for now, he is just lingering at the edges of the small crowd with a piece of cake. when he sees gwen, he raises his plate a few centimeters in greeting. ）

[construing]

〈 as soon as he catches her eye, gwen immediately says her goodbyes and slides in beside him.

a little pleased, she declares, 〉 A little bird told me you had a hand in the cake.

[blackfire]

（ dark eyes settle on her, and itachi makes a soft 'hm' as he politely finishes chewing and swallowing a mouthful of cake before speaking — ）

Absurd. Birds can't bake.

（ it's delivered so flatly that anyone else might think he's being serious as the grave.

luckily, gwen (probably) knows better of him now.

who let this man have a sense of humour. ）

[dragonmount]

it's nice to have a friend

[ a certain someone had not been present on gwen's arrival to the party. as a point of fact, he was brought in by the birthday girl herself not too long after the party started. (super strength might have been involved in getting him to join in the festivities; don't worry about it.) rand's largely kept to himself since the business with olivia, and especially since a number of powered people, himself included, gathered to strengthen the barriers on the orbs. but he's here now, for gwen's sake, a slice of cake on his plate and a small smile on his lips. he orbits the festivities more than takes part in them, but there's real warmth on his face as he listens to gwen's speech, watches her and the others enjoy themselves.

still, for all of his reticence, he won't rebuff conversation if anyone wants to approach him. besides hanging around the fringes of the group, he can be found 1) examining the corn dogs curiously, finally picking one up to give it a taste, or 2) going on a face journey as he samples the cake. spoilers: he finds it delicious, but his eyebrows go up in surprise at the unfamiliar texture and flavors. ]

all you had to do was stay

[ he stops short of actually touching any of the instruments, or wei wuxian's music arrays, even as he curiously examines some of them. the idea of recorded music is, of course, a brand new concept to him. as is taylor swift, for that matter. but even a lot of the instruments are things he's seen rarely if ever at all. music was, in his experience, mostly for festivals and the common rooms of inns and gleemen. (a pang, at that last one, but he's not about to start dwelling on — least of all bring up — a dead man at the celebration of gwen's name day.) traveling songs too, but he never had cause to travel before lately. portable music, music that you can listen to all day, whenever you want — it's completely different to the life he knows. ]

How can that have music in it? [ he finds himself asking aloud, looking at one of wei wuxian's arrays. or, perhaps, while eyeing an instrument at random in the room, he might turn to someone nearby and ask, ] Do you play any of these?

this is me trying

[ wildcard me! feel free to hmu to plan something or write me a starter of your own. ]