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

[abhorrently]

Ah, the therapist. Not her favorite person either.

"Of course not."

But for more practical purposes...

"So long as I'm here, a question. Only metalwork, or do you ever do anything with leather?"

She still doesn't have the money, but it'll be nice to have goals.

[somebodychildofanyone]

"Vvveeeery limited leatherworking. That's a whole other skill set. I can do some basic stuff, and of course like, wrapping a grip, all that, but a leatherworker I ain't. Annabel might be able to, or might know someone who is?" River leans and points out her wonderful girlfriend. "She's a tailor but surely somewhere in the web of professional connections there's gotta be a surviving leatherworker here, right?"

[notinflictthem]

"Good, right?" Hawk agrees, grabbing a fork to pilfer a piece of potato.

"I forgot that food tastes better when it remembers what the earth is as a concept. When you get settled in I've gotta introduce you to everyone too- Chris, Sally, Angel, John Jay, John Watson- they're all a bunch of characters, but you're used to that."

[yournewsidekick]

The dog pauses, upper lip curling unconsciously into a snarl, as if she's trying to guard her meager meal from another predator. A couple beats pass before Nimona gets it together enough to pull her lips back over her teeth; her whole chest expands on a tired sigh.

"I'm not a person," she mutters. "And... nah, this is good. I like floor salami. Way better than table salami."

She sweeps some of the cold cuts closer with a paw.

[skeletonkeay]

Gerry takes a moment to process this before speaking again, quieter than before. "Good. Good riddance."

[graveling]

"Not...really. But it's there, along with them getting the idea that we from our different worlds, with our different talents are like...heroes. None of us--us or them--stay dead when we die and we've come in with loud, creative, new ideas and...there's sometimes a bit of tension, in places. Not a lot, not loudly, but like. Of course it was one of us who won the title of Flower Queen at Merrymeet this year, right? And we're different types of people, some of us coming from cultures that are real tightly wound around certain topics, so that's taken some talking out, among ourselves and..."

A pause. It'd be a pause for breath if Angel breathed, but instead, it's a pause for realization that this guy probably doesn't want to hear all this. He's just arrived, he hasn't gotten his bearings, he doesn't need to have this all in his head, yet.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

[lordoftheozarks]

"I do not know why she calls him that, but, yes. She was someone who knew Max well in the place he went to. And when I also arrived in that place, on that ship..." He presses his nose against their chest, breathing deeply to surround himself in their scent.

"I loved Max. In my own misguided way, I truly thought I was doing the best I could for him. But the fact remains that he was enslaved by me. She used every means you can imagine, and more that you never could, to make sure I never got close enough to him to resume that."

[abhorrently]

"I'll have to seek her out at a point, for clothes as well as the leatherworking. Her work's beautiful, if that's all hers - but, same problem. I won't give her an offer for it that's unequal to the actual piece."

On credit only works when the other person trusts you enough to extend it.

[somebodychildofanyone]

"...You wanna run that by me again? Last I checked anything with a language is a person."

She's so confused.

[somebodychildofanyone]

River waves the concern off. "You'll be good for it eventually. What're you gonna do, skip town on me? But if you're set on it I'm certain I can scare up some bitch work to be done. Hell, try Town Hall, with this glut of new arrivals I bet Dahlia'd love a hand with the paperwork."

[abhorrently]

"What can I say except that I'm from a merchant city. If it was just a spare you had lying around, I'd accept your generosity and worry less, but if it's something you've put yourself into, I'd rather hash out a trade than risk forgetting."

Besides, doing any kind of grunt work will give her some room to think about what she might like to do more consistently.

"Dahlia, you said? Would it be better to talk to her here or after the festivities?"

[crushed_pearls]

Erin takes that hand with goodwill. "Yeah. So, if you need anything, I'm on the table. I've got dubious life advice, a grab bag of skills, oneiromancy, and the most incomprehensible violence you'll ever witness."

[lovethyneighb_or]

"Mmm--" Mulcahy chews, swallows. "Yes, of course, really I can't wait to see what kind of company you've picked up here--"

... Hey, hang on. This wouldn't normally give him any pause, but after so much time spent with people from across all kinds of places...

"... did you say John Watson?"

[lordoftheozarks]

Erik peeks over one shoulder. "If that is what you think constitutes cursed knowledge then you should count yourself lucky. The things I could tell you..."

[notinflictthem]

"Uh yeah- army surgeon guy, with a cane and a mustache. Can't miss him. Why?"

[yournewsidekick]

Somehow, the dog manages to raise an eyebrow despite not really having eyebrows.

"Birds have language," she says. "Deer do. Sharks do. They're not people."

Nimona leans down to snarf up the bologna.

Dr A.T. Menelikov (and optionally R' L.V. Morgenshtern) | OTA

[amourtician]

[OOC: Lev/Lyubov is hovering around in the vicinity, and feel free to assume they're nearby, listening, if you want them in the thread! Or feel free to assume they went to shmuz on their own.]

Anzu arrived in the town early, just head of the main rush; even so, he's not had enough time to prepare much by way of what he'd consider serious festival food. While he doesn't consider himself a particularly skilled cook, he's responsible for about two-thirds of the food by the kommunalka[1], with the others contributing as they can. He's a better cook than he assumes.
[1] flat-share, often family units rather than single adults.

He's brought five dishes—three parve winter salads, dairy-free, and two kinds of latkes, turnip and potato.

The dishes are set out on a trestle table, with little cards in front listing the ingredients, known allergens and even potential texture issues, as well as, having already heard about Cecil and Lev's suspicions about Hawkeye, the appropriate blessing for those who might want to say one. It's a thoughtful gesture, hobbled only a little by the fact he's gone and labelled the ingredients according to the rubrics he's used to. He's aware of gluten intolerance, and lactose intolerance, but not under those exact terms. It'd probably be wise to ask him to explain the labels.

(He almost certainly did that on purpose, to give people an easy conversation hook.)

The dishes

Herring-under-fur-coat, winter salad

A layered salad of pickled herring, roasted carrots, potatoes and beetroot, boiled eggs and mayonnaise-based dressing.

The little card in front says:

fishy, no mezanos

herring, potatoes, beetroot, carrots, eggs, mayonnaise

my sincere apologies, I was unable to ensure all the herring bones have been removed.

dealer's choice on blessing, don't ask me whether the potatoes are more important than the fish

Potato salad

More or less the universal potato salad with mayonnaise, with the addition of pickles and boiled peas.

The little card in front says:

parve, no mezanos, but malt vinegar pickles

potatoes, peas, pickles, mayonnaise

beware of the peas, they're boiled and not fresh.

boreh pri ha-adomah

Vinegret

Another winter salad of the three staple root vegetables (potatoes, carrots, beetroot), boiled just enough to make them soft and bright, and not enough to boil away the taste. Sauerkraut proved impossible to find on short notice, so there's more pickles, and some tiny whole pickled onions, too.

The little card in front says:

parve, no mezanos, but malt vinegar pickles (again)

potatoes, carrots, beetroot, pickles, pickled onions, lemon juice and sunflower oil dressing

boreh pri ha-adomah

Two kinds of latkes

These are latkes. One plate is potato, the other turnip. There's a medium-sized dish of cut glass with fresh applesauce set beside the two platters.

The little card in front says:

it's latkes, have you ever heard of a meaty latkes?

potatoes, turnips, applesauce. sour cream belongs in soup, not on latkes.

boreh pri ha-adomah for the potatoes and I have no bloody idea as to the turnips. my husband doesn't know either. I'm sure HaShem will forgive us all for not being sure whether a turnip is fruit of the earth or a various kind of food.

Anzu himself is perched on the end of the trestle table, swinging his legs and fidgeting with his serpent-headed walking stick.

A description of Anzu

He's short (159cm, making him nearly half a metre shorter than his husband), with a broad torso, long limbs, and long fingers, and dark skin. He is dressed impeccably, in a long midnight blue frock coat and midnight blue trousers with subtle black pinstripes; the waistcoat is a dark teal, as are his spats, and he's tied an electric blue cravat. A wool felt high hat, the same colour as his frock coat, sits upside-down beside him, holding a pair of dress gloves.

He wears his hair down, in carefully pomaded twists that reach just slightly past his shoulders—except for the corkscrew payos. He's clean-shaven, and wearing a Bukharian yarmulka in a pattern that matches his waistcoat.

For the moment, he's content to watch others, greet people who greet him, introduce himself to those who come over. But occasionally, he'll wave people over, if he spots them looking in his direction.

He's keeping an eye out for some of the people Lev's already mentioned to him. He may be middle-aged and quite secure in himself by now, but socialising is still a matter of active effort to him, and he figures he could get a head start if he befriends the people already amicable to his husband.

[somebodychildofanyone]

"My sister-in-law is the daughter of a human and a bird, so like...yeah?" The elf blinks repeatedly. "Let's try this again - 'm River, necromancer and blacksmith 'round these parts. Nice to meet you...?"

[spaghettification]

"Good. I'll look forward to it, Fever." He bows politely mid-air, a very silly gesture because his feet do kick out behind him a little in the process.

[hadnoright]

Daisy laughs a real laugh, this time, "Oh, yeah. I know. She's got that effect. Longer you know her, more it'll get you."

Without it, she and Daisy wouldn't have made it half as far as they have, Daisy's sure of that. She's too prone to closing off, shutting people out.

"And, really. I don't care that much? Not like I'm shy." Just ask the elevator... or the bar... "Anything I don't want anyone else to know... believe me. I make it known."

Usually with threats.

[lovethyneighb_or]

"I can't help but be curious to know if he has a friend named Sherlock."

[somebodychildofanyone]

"...I'm gonna say now. Let her know that I sent ya and that you're looking for work, yeah?"

Maybe Dahlia can confirm or deny the weird feeling River's getting.

[spaghettification]

"Classical, mostly. I played piano and violin as a child. My mother made me start, but then refused to allow me to pursue them as a career. No starving artist life for me, heh." He's noticing her ears and her height with mild surprise, but chooses not to ask questions about those at this time.

"Fishing vessel. So we are not strictly kept to the island, but have some of the space around it?"

[yournewsidekick]

...Huh.

Nimona chews the bologna, slow and deliberate, as she sizes up River. "Ohhhh," she says once she's swallowed -- not because it's rude to talk with your mouth full or anything, just because she needed the sizing-up time. "Okay, so you're actually cool with calling not-humans people."

This doesn't sound like a bad thing. In fact, there's a little curl of a canine smile on one side of her mouth as she says it.

"I'm Nimona. Nice to meetcha too."

[notinflictthem]

"He's British, Father. His entire unit in Afghanistan were probably all called John Watson. You can ask if you want, but he'll probably just laugh at you."

Guess who hasn't had certain things explained to him yet.