#nru_backthatbashup

GAME #1: LET’S GET HOOTIN’! 

For a school-sponsored party that most of the student body wanted no part of and absolutely zero warning, Night Raven University’s so-called 1st Annual Hootenanny is actually better put together than anyone could’ve thought. Balloons and streamers decorate nearly every orifice on campus, though there’s equally any number of posters marketing the celebration that have been defaced with crude sayings and even cruder illustrations letting Headmaster Crowley know just exactly what they thought of his ill-received warning.

While there’s just a small portion of what appears to be catered food (the rest having been carted off by the faculty), each house has managed to assemble something for the event whether it’s in ways of contributing to the potluck or by way of entertainment:

SEND MY MUSE SOMETHING TO EAT / DRINK:

[Pudding] Strawberry milk pudding molded into a cute white bunny; snapping a picture of this will definitely get you trending on Magicam! The bunnies are drizzled lightly in strawberry compote and topped with applemint leaves. Chocolate garnish decorated as a pocket watch finishes the aesthetic, this treat is enhanced by magic to stay chilled throughout the party; courtesy of Heartslabyul. 

[Meat] It’s just a slab of meat of unknown origin. Uncooked, but oddly warm.

[Biltong] An assortment of wild game meat that’s been dried, cured, and then sliced to savory perfection. Each bite is a flavorful experience of spice; a must-have dish for every meat lover on campus! The variety of meat showcases Sunset Savanna’s plentiful bounty; courtesy of Savanaclaw.

[Ocean Cider] A refreshing, crisp lemonade cider. Its vibrant, aquamarine hue softly gradients into a pale lavender from bottom to top, making its appearance reminiscent of the deep sea. Mango, starfish-shaped jelly rests at the bottom of the glass, which is garnished with a slice of lemon and one cherry. Students immediately recognize this as one of Mostro Lounge’s best-selling drinks; courtesy of Octavinelle.

[Basbousa] A sweet almond and coconut semolina cake cut into diamond shapes. Each slice is smothered in sweet sauce and dusted with toasted coconut shavings. A favored treat back in the Scalding Sands; courtesy of Scarabia.

[Mysterious Risotto] An oddly purple-colored risotto decorated with an array of mushrooms. If asked about the dish, none of the ghosts in the kitchen seem to know where it came from; only that it is there. While it seems mostly untouched and cold, it appears the students that dared to give it a try have come away with odd visions.

[Waffles with Apple Salad] A pair of heart-shaped savory waffles flavored, vegan and somehow inexplicably free-range. Accompanying that is an organic apple salad composed of red onion, celery, parsley, and honeycrisp apples; courtesy of Pomefiore.

[Saganaki] A dish of cheese … that is apparently on fire. Composed of a variety of Greek cheeses and a little bit of brandy, the fire appears to change its color as it burns the whole night through. It pairs well with a lightly toasted baguette, a twist of lemon and a little bit of parsley. It’s tradition to break a dish every time the flame abruptly burns brighter, though no one quite understands the tradition; courtesy of Ignihyde. 

[Spiked Punch] Sitting in a black cauldron is an entirely upturned bottle of artificial green apple syrup, apparently emptied into what appears to be a viscous green liquid that smells distinctly of sugar and … is that just an entire bundle of kale and pea sprouts floating in there? Mixed in are a handful of melting, but skull-shaped marshmallows. It appears this is an offering from Diasomnia. Students brave enough to give it a try report that the drink bites back.

INTERACT WITH MY MUSE: 

Send 🥧 to start a food fight with my muse.

Send 💀 to be caught by my muse sabotaging your house’s dish.

Send 📍 to play pin the tail on the Savanaclaws.

Send 🎤 to drag my muse into a karaoke duet.

Send 💃 to dance with my muse.

Send 🏓 to play a game of Root Beer Pong.

Send 👻 to play a game of Root Beer Pong to the death (with the Spiked Punch).

Send 🤜 to fight my muse.

Send ⛲ to play Seven Minutes in Hell (light waterboarding).

"Oh, Azul!" Surprise was easy enough to feign, so was the act of bumping into another. In that split second, Jade unleashed the goose into Azul's arms, and she exploded with furious wingbeats and fervent bites, the glittering bell and the gold shine of Jade's eye both forgotten in an instant.

It takes only but a second of distraction to fell even the fiercest of titans. A brief moment of negligence, paired with deceitful veil of camaraderie, brews the most heinous concoction for a young sea witch. 

Ivory fingers dance across the screen of a smartphone in rapid tempo, the third article of ‘geese attack protection & strategy’ splayed across the screen. Hunched behind a member of Octavinelle— 184cm, a first-year, eager to leave an outstanding impression on his charitable housewarden— Azul is ignorant to his own Leech-induced doom. Poor merman is in the midst of switching to a new article (“How to Catch and Tame a Wild Goose”, to be specific) when a familiar voice reaches him amidst the crowd’s chaos. The housewarden tilts his head upwards and, teetering upon his tongue is a stratagem to boost Octavinelle’s credibility and incur favors from staff. He does not expect, as his body turns to face Jade, the blade that will hypothetically plunge itself into his back. 

The goose gets Azul before he has a chance to strike Jade, for bringing that merciless beast directly to him! Entranced by the shimmer of the merman’s phone, Abigail launches at his hand. Mouth of razors lacerate the meaty flesh right below Azul’s little finger, knocking the housewarden’s phone from him and evoking a pained hiss as he jerks his arm away. 

“I’ll protect you, Housewarden Ashengrotto!” He hears his human shield— No, Octavinelle’s first-year say before the man practically launches himself at the goose. Pathetic boy misses the aerial menace by a long shot and flops onto the ground, shoving Azul’s smartphone further away in the process. Abigail, on the other hand, does not relent. She flutters her wings and hurls herself forth again with unparalleled vigor… towards Azul’s glasses. 

“You bastard—!” Profanity falls from the merman’s lips quicker than he can catch as he snaps his head to the side, narrowly missing a face full of beak. Abigail’s teeth dig into the side of his glasses, wingbeat pounding his shoulders as a new technique formulates in Azul’s mind. Through clenched teeth, he loses his glasses to the clutches of the goose as he undoes the belt of his robe. Abigail throws his glasses to the side, not enough bloodshed to satisfy her, as she begins her onslaught against Azul’s hair— When he suddenly lunges forward.

He startles the goose, who yields upon instinct. With a newfound mass of his open ceremonial robes, Azul raises his arms to allow the drapery of his sleeves to billow. He charges at Abigail again, staring dead into her soulless, beady eyes as he lets out a vicious hiss. Abigail looks affronted at Azul’s sheer audacity, his hold on animal linguistics cutting a wound into her pride, and takes a moment to reconsider the victim of her wrath. She turns before Azul has a chance to charge at her once more, thus deciding to act upon weaker prey. 

“Yeah! One of the twins, Floyd? The weird one,” he paused, “Well, okay they’re both weird, but that one is a little… out there, you know? He brought it up and one of my dormmates was like ‘I bet you won’t’ and I didn’t think it would be such a big deal...”

He trailed off, realizing his explanation was doing him no favors. Ember probably thought he was an idiot. Maybe he asked to dance because he thought he was being charitable. That seemed like something Ember might do. He took a good look at Ember, trying to figure out his motive. Nope. He couldn’t read minds despite his best efforts. Ember looked like he always does.

“Okay, yeah, let’s dance,” he sighed, “Just try not to step on my toes.”

He grabbed Ember’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. It had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity to dance with anybody, so it took him a minute to find his groove. At least if he made a fool of himself, he could blame it on the risotto.

“So… what is up with that punch your dorm brought? Kalen looked like he was going to keel over after one sip,” he asked, while moving to the music.

Ember laughed softly at Jinx’s comment about the oddness of the Leech twins. He knew exactly what he meant.

“He gave me some of your dorm’s food- I’m sorry he dared you into eating the risotto. Azul made me eat it under the assumption it was my dorms doing, which...” He shrugged, “I genuinely don’t know if it was.”

When he was pulled to dance, Ember smiled gratefully. He was excited to dance, that his body was cooperating... at least until they actually got on the dance floor. He could tell he was off rhythm and just hoped Jinx either wouldn’t notice him almost tripping on his own feet or wouldn’t mind. 

“It is weird, isn’t it?”

With the personalities at this party, it doesn’t shock Sebek to hear that some have dared to try the dish. Hell, Diasomnia’s contribution wasn’t much better! He watches from the corner of his eye as Azul offers an unfortunate cup of the brew to Kalen, apologizing in his head for whatever terrible effects it might bring to his stomach.

The cauldron of Diasomnia’s offering bubbles away, now somehow generating heat since he mixed the ingredients together. It looks even more menacing now, and surely tastes twice as fowl. Sebek looks down to the plate in his hands and back over to the roiling concoction on the other side of the dining hall, a curious thought running through his mind.

God, could the addition really make it all that worse?

“Excuse me for a second, Ember,” the half-fae excuses himself, weaving between the crowds as least suspiciously as possible. Everyone now was steering clear of the cauldron—thankfully—and he takes the opportunity to dump the meat into the pot, a few droplets of punch landing on his uniform.

No one knows when it was initiated. Frankly, there’s little reason as to how, either. 

It can be pinpointed at the sabotage of the sound system; hypnotic, percussion beats that begin to swallow the dining hall whole in replacement of outdated pop. An enthused holler rips through the air and more bodies flood the dancefloor, now that the songs are recognizable. Bass boosted to maximum, the intensity so fierce that the walls begin to quake— Another scream pierces through. 

It’s beastmen, it’s Savanaclaw, it’s tradition. A yip follows the screech, then a howl. Whoop, whoop, whoop! Soon, the hall is alive with the call of the savanna, a cacophonous whirlpool of bellows and hisses of various specimens. Bodies begin to twist and soon, there’s a dance formation. Students are moving to the rhythm of drums, of the call to their peers, in a line, then a circle and repeat. It’s uniform, it’s chaotic, it’s dizzying—! There’s laughter now, people belting out the lyrics to songs that they recognize. People are pushed into the center of the circle, some voluntary as they throw their limbs in dance and jive. 

Ruggie laughs with his peers as he prances in the outskirts of the circle, then yips. There’s barks in return and cheers— He twists his body with the rhythm of the mob, then says: “WOAH!”

Everyone cranks their arm in the same jerk motion, halting in unison, then there’s laughter and the dancing continues. Ruggie twists around, progressing with the swarm, then he notices a professor’s disapproving look. He smirks.

The hyena easily weaves out of the crowd, then boldly grabs the professor in charge of proctoring this area of the dining hall. “C’mon, Prof Amos, let’s get you joinin’ the fun’!” The poor old man had little time to complain before Ruggie shoves him forwards and he’s easily swallowed into the crowd. 

“Professor Amos! Professor Amos! Professor Amos!” 

The pack is chanting the poor professor’s name now, the old guy is startled. Ruggie’s laughing as he watches the dude try to claw his way out to no avail. He moves back closer into the crowd.  Then, the beastman angles himself, smirk widening as he aims and—- 

Laugh with Me! Spellcast’s shimmer goes undetected and hits the professor square-on. Got’cha, Ruggie thinks and the professor’s demands to be released suddenly halt. Professor Amos has begun to prance now, twirling with the crowd, igniting a new wave of laughter. Ruggie is dancing, too, in sync with the peers around him. There’s cheers for the professor, known for being so senile and severe, as he suddenly begins to break it down on the dance floor. The crowd goes and the hollers continue; drowning out the sound of the man gagging against his invisible binding. 

“Aw shit, Professor Amos is throwin it DOWN!” “Get it, Prof!” “This is gonna be a toootal hit on Magicam! C’mon Professor, get it!” “I can practically hear his bones cracking!” 

Ruggie’s laughing. He’s hidden between two students over two meters tall, but he’s swaying his hips. He dips down low— Professor Amon begins twerking at the center of the crowd, aghast— Then suddenly, he falls straight onto his ass. The man’s speaking coherently again, screaming at the circle of students and demanding to know what just happened. He’s ignored, people are chanting for an encore, to see what kind of other sick moves the old geezer’s got. 

Meanwhile, Ruggie’s suddenly at the concessions table, which is now unmonitored. The students around him are focused on the dance circle and a poor professor’s suffering. Ruggie drags a pack of tupperware that’s been hidden beneath Savanaclaw’s section of the concessions. He’s shoveling basbousas into the containers. He’s practically stolen a third of the Scarabia-catered treats before he moves onto the waffles, then back to the biltong that he already has dozens of in his room.

“‘m gonna be snackin’ for days! Shyehehehe!” More of the waffles are shovelled into containers; Sure they’re vegetables but hey, it’s edible. Ruggie passes by the mysterious risotto and pauses. He gives it a glance before his nose twitches, ears flattening to his skull. “That’s definitely rancid. Yuck…”  

Send 🎤 to drag my muse into a karaoke duet.

"Woooow, and you're even gunna let me pick the song? Are you brave or stupid, Mackerel?" Floyd snickered as he leaned into the list, mismatched eyes quickly running over them.

He'd always seen Mackerel hanging around with Crabby and Shrimpy around campus. He always looked like another small fish who didn't notice exactly how big the pond he was swimming around in was. Floyd thought it was kinda funny. Especially when he'd heard rumors that Mackerel knew how to thrash with the best of them.

He kinda wanted to see it for himself, but he could wait for that. Mackerel's suggestion had been so surprising to Floyd, he kinda wanted to see exactly what would come of it if he played along.

"Ooh, this looks fun." Floyd grins and presses on one of the songs. The song loads before Mackerel can get a look at it and Floyd steps back with a delighted cackle.

"Looks like headmage was serious about giving us a night to remember." Kalen groans, trying to undo the knot. "And it looks like all those years of WSAS camping survival classes aren't helping me with this knot... looks like we'll just have to work this out together!"

He wraps an arm around Jinx, stooping down to match his height. Just gotta move one foot... after the other... hey, they were doing it! Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all! Patting himself down with his free hand, he takes out his phone. The Heartslabyul group chat was going CRAZY, with everyone spamming messages along the lines of 'Headmage locked us out!' , 'Those keys gotta be here somewhere!' , and 'I swear, i'm gonna file a formal complaint after this!'.

He leads Jinx to the nearby bushes surrounding the botanical gardens. Something shimmered in the dim overhead lighting. Upon closer inspection, there appears to be a key, labeled elegantly with the tag 'Pomfiore'.

"Hey, all right!" Kalen pumps his fist, shouting for joy. "Looks like you can go to bed now -- i'll stay behind and find my key!"

THE HOOTENANNY FINALE: LOCKED OUT!

The sigh that escapes Deuce is mournful as he drops his head into his hands. Maybe this was a punishment after all, despite the way that Crowley had phrased it. It had to be, right? After all, someone had unleashed that crazy goose from earlier on the party and then Deuce was more than positive that he likely broke some of the tables when he had summoned that cauldron earlier. Not to mention, the sleeve on his ceremonial robe was sporting bite marks...since when did geese have teeth?? Who had thought it was a good idea to give them teeth???

Peeking through his fingers to look at the person he had been tied up with didn’t offer much comfort either, unfortunately. With their year difference and the fact that Jamil seemed like a rather busy person, there wasn’t much about them that Deuce knew about aside from what he heard from others, but... Well, they’ll just have to make it work, right? If this really was a punishment for all the trouble, then they’ll just have to roll with it and find those damn keys! The headmage wouldn’t have scattered them across the campus if they weren’t serious about it, after all.

With a sharp crack, Deuce slaps the palms of his hands against his face and rides out the smarting pain that comes from it. He can do this; they can do this. “A'ight! Those keys should be somewhere around here... Viper, will you help me find them?”