Mingle - Emergency Potluck

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WELCOME POTLUCK

Greetings, residents! Those more observant sorts among you may have noticed a large influx of very crowded ferries. In order to welcome our new residents en masse, Town Hall is holding a potluck in Town Square. Please bring a dish if you are able and make a new friend!

All of our newest arrivals need only bring themselves. We look forward to welcoming you all into our community, and may your lanterns always be lit.

This event is open to all! In light of our new influx of prospective players following the Great Sail Migration, we've decided to offer a small public event to tide everyone over until the TDM this weekend.

Comments

[immortaldemonsoul]

The thing of it, Ellarinne just came off a year learning how to make soup from bipedal walrus people.

The thing of it is, tuskarr, as said walrus people call themselves, have different aesthetic sensibilities than other races. They rely much less on sight, and much more on scent and texture. Especially in their food.

Which means Ellarinne's just come off a year of acclimating to food that looks disgusting, but is both delicious and extremely nutritious.

So hopefully she'll be able to forgive herself for thinking the fudge is some kind of blood pudding.

She carefully scoops some into a bowl and eats it with a spoon. It is not blood pudding.

Her ears stand straight out from her head, stiff in a way they almost never are. Her eyebrows shoot up. Behind her blindfold a green glow where her eyes should be begins to appear.

She shudders, struggles with it -- and finally swallows. "Who brought this?" she asks weakly. "I fear it may have gone bad."

[crushed_pearls]

In all senses but the literal there is an audible shattering sound.

Wait for it.

Waiiiiiiit for it.

Waiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit fooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrr iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittttt.

"Motherfucker you're stacking paper by doing the god damn monster mash?"

[hate_gettin_older]

The last time he saw Max in a new place --

Edgar swallows hard, and makes himself move closer at a slow walk, and stop a few feet away instead of dropping his plate and diving to hug him. He's trying to look neutral-to-friendly, and failing completely; he looks uncertain, wary, a little lost, just short of flinching in half-expectation of pain.

"... Max?"

[lordoftheozarks]

He's enjoying watching her come to terms with this. It almost makes up for the poster. Almost.

"How else do you think I can afford such a finely tailored suit?"

River La Croix | OC (Dungeon Life Quest) | Existing Player

[somebodychildofanyone]

How many non-food tables are at this potluck anyway? River and her two apprentices are taking turns manning a table that has Various Weapons, Trinkets, And Bits Of Armor on it. A sign thereupon reads:

INFERNAL ARMS AND ARMOR
NO RELATION TO THE LOCAL DEMONS
COMMISSIONS AND ENCHANTING AVAILABLE
INQUIRE ABOUT APPRENTICESHIP!

River herself has turned out in her working clothes, having decided that while she loves the dress Annabel made for her there's just too much chance of getting dirty or having some manner of cultural misunderstanding that ends in a certain amount of fistfights, so the elf is in her tough pants, her shirt and vest, and her warm green cloak (also made by Annabel's hands, a fact not lost on River; sometimes when she glances over at Annabel she smiles dreamily while fingering the cloth). Come chat her up! One can find her at the table, getting tea, and also Eating.

[notinflictthem]

Didn't even respond to his joke or his questions. This is...

Hawkeye presses him closer into the hug. He's all skin and bones on a good day, but this Hawk is worse than that.

"Hey- c'mon," he soothes, "it's okay. I'm here."

It didn't occur to him that any of the 4077 would miss him this much. Even Mulcahy, who has always been spared from his pranks.

"I missed you too, Red."

[hate_gettin_older]

Someone new is studying the sign, with an expression of concentration that suggests that either he's used to a completely different alphabet or he doesn't read very easily.

He's also steadily making inroads on a heaped plate of food, which is probably not his first.

[somebodychildofanyone]

River is quite willing to be patient. She's also curious, to be quite honest, watching the newcomer's face to see what else catches his attention; weapons, maybe? If so, what kind? Do his eyes linger on the metal artwork, carefully forged with great strength to look delicate, perhaps the bracers and gauntlets that protect the hands?

What kind of man is this?

[withoutpride]

That John's willing to take even a single bite to prove the food is safe is clearly a huge deal to him. So Jarrod would be a Real Dick if he didn't eat now. He picks up one of the sandwiches, nibbles at a corner...

and then dives in like a man who hasn't had the chance to eat in a while. Though from how he's built, it's not like he's been skipping meals. Packing in the protein, clearly, all lean muscle. Dai Shi never ate for pleasure, only for sustenance.

"This is the best thing I ever..." chomp chomp "...ever ate."

[crushed_pearls]

"I kinda passively assumed you went for being a landlord, my good bitch! This is learning that Vin fucking Diesel is a nerd all over again!"

[hate_gettin_older]

What Edgar notices first, not quite consciously, is the fact that the man's not eating.

What he first consciously notices is something about the way he's standing, something about the way he holds himself. Not Tail, not exactly -- more muscle on his frame than anyone in the Tail ever built up, and skin with the quality that he's come to recognize as gets sunlight -- but something close to familiar, some near neighbor of it.

He moves closer gradually, waiting to see if there's any body language that says Go Away.

[lordoftheozarks]

"I was a land broker at home." He did say he was turning over a new leaf, didn't he?

"This is far more fun and the hours are as flexible as I am."

[crushed_pearls]

"Well fuck me then. Gave up on being the wrong kind of leech." Erin's impressed, despite herself. "More power to you, El Cockacabra."

She ruffles her wings, glancing around. Hmm...

"You understand the circumstances under which we'll have a problem, yeah?"

[lovethyneighb_or]

That old nickname. Years. It's been years.

Eventually the waterworks slow enough for him to grab for the napkins and wipe at his eyes, and though he breaks away slightly to see Hawkeye's face, he keeps an arm on his bony shoulder. Mulcahy in turn is older-looking than he would remember; his already-light hair has gone mostly silver, and there's a weariness etched into the new wrinkles of his face.

"My God," he breathes quietly. "Your face, your... how long have you been here? What... what's the last thing you remember before you got here, Hawkeye?"

[hate_gettin_older]

He hasn't moved on to really studying the weapons yet, though they've certainly caught his eye with some interest. For the moment, he seems just focused on puzzling out the sign's meaning.

Finally he sighs, glances about, spots her, and moves closer.

"Scuse me," he says, gesturing at the sign, "what's that last bit say, after inquire about?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

The overreaching gesture is stopped by a forearm--blocks him from smacking anyone without aggression or restraining him. Seems safe enough, even if the guy just sort of seems to be caught up in his own little world.

With a symphony orchestra.

"Always thought I had to worry about getting clocked by a Rockette, not the orchestra." he jokes softly, lowering his arm when the older guy realizes what nearly happened. "You were caught up there--you a musician?"

[abhorrently]

There's a halfway grin when Daisy talks about her would-be wife - the one without a name. Sex has a way of dragging impulsive thoughts to light and letting them be said, even if Fever herself has never crossed that particular boundary. But regardless, the important part is that Daisy is unattached in the ways that matter. There's understanding, and not a hint of regret for what happened. They both needed it.

"Don't know her as well as you do, but I'm perfectly capable of believing it. It's just that I knew we had a few married before." A shrug. Getting married on the horror boat is weird to her, though if it made them happy, who did it hurt? "I won't question her pet names further. She made it clear there's no jealousy or anything of the sort to fuss about."

And it's not as though Fever herself has anyone to worry about. The chances of that really happening, slim to none, as befits her.

"Promise I won't go telling the whole town, though. She just has a way of...getting it out of you, you know?"

[somebodychildofanyone]

"Apprenticeship," River explains in a friendly voice; her accent is musical, lilting. From the depths of her cloak she retrieves her pipe, carved in a skull shape, and also some tobacco to pack it with, which she starts doing in no particular hurry. "An apprentice is a student of a trade; in exchange for teaching and some wages, they do labor for their instructor. Y'know, clean the joint, do simple jobs like making nails - fuck me."

The two elves Somewhat Near This Table who are also dressed in work clothes raise their voices in hymn-like harmony: "The naiiiiiiiils!"

"I'm gonna kill them," River mutters. "Anyway, that kinda thing."

[not here]

[theydrewfirstblood]

"The naiiiiiii--oof!"

One of the elves catches some kind of dinner roll to the back of the head. There's no visible culprit in eyesight.

But River knows. Everyone knows--and if one listens very carefully, a deep quiet chuckle comes from a distance before all is serene again.

[lightconductor]

"Are you all right, lieutenant?" Her rank is a mild surprise, but military recognises itself, and he can hardly disbelief the evidence of his own eyes. He sees, after all, the grip of her hands on the chair.

Vegetarianism. Well, he's travelled a bit, and heard various nutritionist claims, and he knows one or two things "It is a sort of religious restriction? Well, never mind, I'm sure we can find something for you. You know, someone brought a bean curry, if I remember right. How would that suit you?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

John is leaning against a lamp post on the fringe of a couple food tables. His arms are crossed, and his posture is military in bearing--but he's otherwise relaxed, arms crossed over his chest more a habit than anything exuding negative.

It soothes the rough edges of that eternal ache in his bones. It makes him feel like he's taking up less space. It means he can more easily reach for a weapon if he needs one, closer proximity--and that knowledge helps him relax.

He's not looking in the direction of the man approaching him--but he's aware. He's quite aware--but the gait he's attuned to is cautious and careful, not deliberate and calculated. He's not trying to be quiet, so he's probably not a threat.

He lets the guy get about three feet away before glancing over--and it's with a small smile that's brighter on his lips than it is in his eyes, but it's still real. It still connects within.

[lordoftheozarks]

"Only if you're paying." Hey, Erin, ever wonder where Max got his jokes?

"My instinct is to say yes, but for the sake of my nose I would like you state it for me explicitly."

[spaghettification]

"Ah, no. Well, not professionally. My sainted mother would have disapproved of that even more than the useless career I ended up in."

There's a sheepish smile on Siebren's face, apologetic for the invasion of personal space.

"Though I do play. And compose. Are there violins or pianos on the island?"

[crushed_pearls]

"My good bitch, my blood is made of drugs. You pay me."

That admission won't bite her in the ass later.

Anyway...

"I catch you owning or trading in people? We've got a problem. First whiff of the kind of abuse Max went through? We've got a problem. Fucking rest in peace to a lifestyle sub that falls for you, I'd better get the thesis paper of all time about it."

[lordoftheozarks]

That does get a raised eyebrow.

[Erik will remember this.]

"Then we are at peace. Max was and will be the only time. You are not the only one I have made that promise to, and I care more for what they will think of me than what you could ever do to me." Unconsciously, his gaze drifts over to Chris. When he realizes he's doing it, he shakes himself and straightens significantly.

"Speaking of, I need to go check on one of those people right now because they are very upset at having watched me get punched at a social gathering. I believe we are finished here?"



[ooc: I'm going to continue this thread on with Vonn/Chris so after Erin's reply I'll transition to that.]