The future's gonna be out of this world [Text / Mingle]

[spaghettimonster]

Date: [December 26th (Text), December 31st/January 1st (Log)]
Characters: Network - [Russell's number], Log: Open]

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Network: Open Invitation (Mostly)

[In the late hours of the 26th, around 9pm, an emoji-filled text message goes up courtesy of Russell typing his number into his phone again.]

I've decided we're having a party at the flat
If you can read this and your a friend
Or a friend of a friend
You're invited to celebrate the new year and decade

...if your name has 'evil' in it you're not invited

The rest of you! Come party!! 🎉⌛🎉

[There's more celebratory emoji at the end, starting with party poppers and confetti in place of a string of exclamation points, followed by various crossed-circle Nos and radioactive signs and villainous faces to emphasize his other point. Just in case an alien got this and chose to pretend he couldn't read it.]



Mingle: Quite A Normal Party

It all started as a normal, relaxing party idea. Russell's Christmas holidays turned out a little bit stressful, thanks to multiple visits to family where people expressed concern for him. Was money tight, some asked, was his new job not paying enough? Were the doctors sure he was in good health, others whispered in private asides? Well, just have another portion then, someone insisted at every house, and stay over for a big breakfast tomorrow. Reassuring family monopolized the three days, and come the night of the 26th he returned to the flat with every intention of not leaving for a week... but maybe, he mentioned to Walter, having friends visit instead.

So when Walter and Russell had the idea, and Russell posted to the network with a mostly-open invitation, they planned on a "normal" night of it; streaming normal movies, eating normal popcorn, trying to put the insanity of mice and sharks and everything else out of mind. Maybe that plan lasted for most of the days before New Year's Eve, or maybe it fell apart during the network chatter. Whenever it ended, it ended with Russell having second thoughts about the appeal of normalcy

After all, he might have said on the network but definitely said aloud, pacing up and down the hallway of the flat, talking whether he had an audience or not... they were none of them normal, and by now willingly so. After all, he emphasized, if any of them really couldn't bear what was happening, they could move! Some already had! Those still here, whether they admitted it or not, were accepting the strangeness. Choosing it. They might as well come out and say fuck it, we're strange, at least with each other.

(It isn't that simple for everyone, of course, between family obligations and financial limitations. But Russell has his biases.)

In the spirit of embracing it, by the time of the planned party, there's decorations all over the living room, kitchen, and washroom. Streamers and balloons of greens and yellows, grays and blacks, with cartoonish UFOs and aliens all over the place. An aesthetic like this all over. Some of them even say Happy Birthday, because in a manner of speaking it's a birthday for the planet, right? Or at least the calendar.

There's a decent spread of food between some home-cooked things and mostly some store-bought party platters, plus one plate meant more for the canine variety of people. And there's a Russell loitering around near the entrance, quick to open it and greet anyone who comes to visit - maybe even before they knock? (Walter may be giving him a head's up when people are coming).


[If your characters stop by the party, feel free to write top-levels for mingling with each other - this is meant as an open post for everyone! (Except Mr. Evil)]

Comments

[warped_replica]

“I meant no insult,” he says with a chuckle in his words and a lazy hand raised as if to placate as the balloon slowly settles. “Movies sound great actually. I wouldn’t know what sort of game would could play with such an age range of guests.” The kids and Stone make a wide gap, and with Walter having an advantage of speed and a constant connection to Google, the options would be limited.

“And honestly? I’ve been booked with game coaching appointments through the holiday break. It’s been nice for my savings account, but a little taxing on my enthusiasm for competition.”

[spaghettimonster]

"Well, there you have it then. With no extra effort on my part, I've been extra accommodating, just for you," he says, with a grin that's just self-aware enough that he's laughing at himself rather than boasting. Or only boasting. There's a bit of self congratulations going on.

"What's involved in game coaching...? Unless you'd rather leave work at work, and just relax, that's fine too. I'll start some tea, either way." He grabs a second of the baked goods, and heads toward the kitchen for just that purpose.

[warped_replica]

However his cousin means it, the teenager snerks with a hand raised with fingers spread on his chest. It all worked out in his favor without causing any inconvenience. “I’m touched you planned so well on my behalf,” he says with a mix of humor and honest gratitude.

Asked about his self-employment, he shrugs, “I don’t mind discussing it.” Rather than follow his cousin, he finds a nice spot to lean back against the wall and cross his arms loosely for physical comfort to wait for him. It gives him a chance to consider a description.

Once Russell returns, he offers an overview on the matter, “Coaching people to improve their gameplay actually involves a lot of observation. I usually let them play a full round or match without saying anything to start. Then I ask them about their thought process for certain choices that turned out poorly. Sometimes it was deliberate, sometimes simply an emotional one. I try to focus on their biggest weakness from that game then watch another. I’ll talk them through corrections during the second match as best I can, and after that second one will comment on improvements or offer a way to address it with repetition training methods. Third match I either stay more involved and add more cues, or I back off a little and see if they can hold the corrections. At the end, I list highlights of their strengths and weaknesses during gameplay and let them ask me questions. That’s one session. A few players have been repeat customers, and I get to be more personal with them. Making wilder suggestions or being a little more stern.”

[spaghettimonster]

By the time Russell returns, that second home baked good has already disappeared. For all of his talk and show in having all the alien decor, the tastes of home and the company of family and friends are what he's really after, here. He offers the tea and settles in to listen, nodding and contemplating at various points in Benjiro's description of the job.

"Are they all... hoping to play e-sports professionally? Or more, uh, hobbyists?" Russell wonders, leaning back to take a sip of his tea. It isn't as though everyone who seeks art or music lessons is planning on doing so professionally, after all. But this is a relatively new field.

[warped_replica]

He stands from the wall when Russell returns, and accepts the offered tea with a word of thanks. Holding the cup with both hands delicately while he talks, he waits for it to cool a little.

“Enthusiastic fans of the games mostly. I’ve had a couple mention a desire to become professionals or a streamer like me, but none of my clients are preparing for competitions or anything of that nature.”

“The most difficult aspect of coaching I think is actually scheduling. I have periods of nothing, then an influx like here for the holidays. I miss the steadier flow from the warehouse.” Then curious, he asks, “How has it been for you lately?”

I'm tugging it in another direction

[spaghettimonster]

"Oh, you know. Work. Nothing to feel passionate about," Russell says with all the hauteur he can muster, which is a fair amount. "And commuting's no lark. Everyone thinks I'm touched in the head, the way I get vague about what I did over the weekend."

He grumbles this last part, rolling his eyes. The way memories of anything connected to echoes fades outside the invisible Boundary, when so much of his day-to-day life is affected by them now... Taking notes on things helps, but only so much.

"But," he says, lifting his tea cup again, "at least I don't get concerned looks every other minute. So it's worth it. I'll make it work."

Works for me

[warped_replica]

“I suppose it might. You are too much of a friendly extrovert to come off as a private person,” he points out with a complimentary tone. Even if his enthusiasm for his tasks at the job is lacking, Benjiro cannot imagine Russell as any less spirited conversing with other staff or customers.

When Russell points out the benefit of reversing physical Numbered changes, Benjiro wrinkles his nose with a frown. He can relate too well, “That sounds worthwhile. I can’t tell you how many times people have asked me if I take steroids. And worse, I’ve had a handful of people ask which kind.”

“So how many comments or bits of unsolicited advice did you rack up over the holidays?”

[spaghettimonster]

Russell smirks as he sips his tea, appreciating the compliment at face value. He nods commiserating, at the anecdotes of steroids. Their changes are probably safer than things like gray skin or cat ears, easier to play off as within the range of human forms, but sometimes... Something easier to hide might be easier.

"Oh my god, the comments. If it isn't Mum, it's one of the other aunts, or a few of the cousins... I wish Rosemary had gone. A light of sensibility in that mess, she would have been."