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

wrap?

[abhorrently]

"Thank you, I mean it."

And how does she keep forgetting this -

"When you see me around, the name's Fever. It's been a pleasure."

[spaghettification]

"I am."

Siebren gives César a long, quiet look. "Is that a matter you wish to discuss in detail tonight?"

Wrappeth

[somebodychildofanyone]

"River. Hope to see ya at the forge, Fever."

[somebodychildofanyone]

"I should hope so, 'm not human myself." River flashes a sunny grin and Wiggles Her Ears, Look At Them Go, They Wigglin'. "I'm an elf, though not from around here. This place's got its own elves." River almost adds 'and I'm dating a ghost, a vampire, and possibly also a fucking rabbit?' but decides, no, that might be protesting the point a bit too much. "Admittedly I haven't met many dogs that're people but if you look over there -"

River points past Nimona to a good dog.

"- that's Amaterasu, customer of mine and a goddess of some far-off world called Nippon. Lovely lass, very soothing. Will steal your food."

[lovethyneighb_or]

"Well, there's every chance that could be the case, but I wouldn't be so sure. I've seen some very peculiar things you know."

You know, like his seven-foot-tall three-eyed ram-headed shadow demon friend who could mysteriously store and retrieve items from an invisible "inventory."

He's gonna bury himself in this sushi a little bit more.

[abhorrently]

Later in the potluck, she'll be approached by one of the newcomers with a polite smile on, having toured around the booths and had food and generally settled some more in.

"Dahlia Leeds? I've been sent to speak with you."

[withoutpride]

There's a silence that grows. It might be an awkward silence, or a comfortable one, but it's there, growing.

[lasthumanvoice]

"I'm pretty sure turnips are fruit of the earth. Though that makes me wonder about peanuts now, given now those grow. Hello, hi and hello!" Cecil is reading the notecards and vibrating with joy.

"I may need to argue about latke toppings with you, though. Sour cream is perfectly acceptable. Cranberry sauce, even better."

[lordoftheozarks]

Someone is taking his fudge! He watches, excited to see what she thinks. Well. She didn't spit it out. So it must be all right. And, oh, she's taking more for later. Is this... how Max felt? When someone enjoyed what he had made? Should he say something? He should, shouldn't he?

"I'm glad to see you enjoying my contribution. Welcome, you must be one of the new arrivals. I am Lord Erik Osborne."

[hate_gettin_older]

And he's known smiles like that before, hasn't he?

"Hey," he says, not very loudly, and offers a small smile of his own.

[lasthumanvoice]

"I'm not sure my boyfriend would want to share me, even if you do have pretty eyes and nice hair. And teeth like a military cemetery. You would be my type, if you can keep up with my nonsense."

Cecil's smile lingers, though, accepting the flirtation as a compliment. Of course, Jack doesn't know how temporally fucked Cecil is, how his age is not a number and his existence is, frankly, a mess. But he hasn't lost all of his shiny through it. Or, he's good at projecting the appearance of eternal shiny.

"Cecil Gershwin Palmer, at your service."

[theydrewfirstblood]

“Hey.” John replies—and a little more of the smile bleeds into his eyes, voice as soft as it is deep, both in volume and in tone.

“How you liking the, uh, hospitality so far?”

Vika | 20XX | Existing Player

[lastofthefirst]

What The Fuck Is That Robot Doing

So there's a clockwork machine here, dressed in a ragged opera cape with her fibrous hair pulled back into a ponytail. She is, very definitely, a machine. The cape doesn't hide a whole lot, is the thing, so there's the click-click-click-click of her operating gears, her strange, wide feet, the bit where one of her arms ends in what is probably a gun, this is a-robot, this is-a 'puter. One of her eyes is a sphere of unmelting ice, craved with an iris and pupil, that steams in the air.

Thing is, she's eating. Like. Indiscriminately. Not with incredible greed or gluttony, no, but with great variety, trying a little bit of everything, being careful to use serving spoons and the like rather than touching any of the food herself.

No Really What Is She Doing

Hey was your day going normally? Too bad, there's a robot sidling up with her click-click-click-click and just opening up the conversation, as Normal People Do, with: "Y'got any hands you're not using?"

[lordoftheozarks]

"What?" Erik rushes over alarmed. "Did it spoil in the heat?" No. No, it did not. The heat could do nothing worse to this dish than he did himself.

[lovethyneighb_or]

He's nodding along, not looking the slightest bit confused until the stranger starts apologizing. Mulcahy reaches out tentatively, the slightest weight of his fingers on his arm.

"What for? It's very useful to know what I'm getting into, and I appreciate it."

... A beat as something occurs to him.

"If you're worried that I'm not used to seeing so many strange people from strange worlds, I think you should know that the place we were trapped in before this was very similar in that regard. I'm very used to having to ask people when they come from."

[abhorrently]

Enjoying is...one word for it. She isn't going to burst his bubble when he introduces himself with a proper title, but she is going to quietly remember to pretend she's eaten if he's bringing sweets again.

"Well met, Lord Osborne. You have it exactly right. I'm Fever, and thank you for your addition to the table."

[crushed_pearls]

"...For a minute there I was living in a mental world where none of my friends can see either. I need sleep, fuck me -"

Wait.

"Two thousand seven, you said. Anno Domini?"

[yournewsidekick]

Despite herself, the ear wiggle gets a snicker out of Nimona. Man, it's still great to run into not-humans who're pleased to be different from everybody else.

She glances over her shoulder at Amaterasu, intrigued; her smile turns toward a smirk. "I'll steal it back," she says, as breezily as she can. "So... she's an actual dog, huh? Goddess-dog. Whatever. Not a shapeshifter?"

Re: Father Mulcahy | M*A*S*H w/CRAU | OTA

[worstorganplayer]

Snakes Tolliver sees him and goes over. "Hey there," he greets. There's so many newcomers suddenly, it's hard to keep up. But he has to start somewhere in greeting them, so he chooses this guy since he looks pretty alone and maybe lonely.

"Snakes Tolliver," he continues. "Local law enforcement."

1.

[worstorganplayer]

Snakes can't help but stare even though he's trying not to. How does a robot eat? Won't it ... gum up her gears or something?

"... So, looks like you're having fun," he says slowly. He certainly doesn't want to ask, but ...

"We've got a little bit of everything here," he continues.

[somebodychildofanyone]

Thoughtfully: "I've never seen her shift shapes, but I dunno that she can't. Seems like an odd thing for a god to not be able to do...but she's very dog. Like. If she rolled up to me as a fellow elf I have no doubt in my mind she'd still be very dog-like, the way some people just remind you of animals."

Says the spiritual catgirl.

Re: Sam Porter Bridges | Death Stranding | existing player

[worstorganplayer]

Snakes is patrolling around to make sure everything's as safe as it can be. He jumps when he hears sounds around a tree and he pulls a weapon, even though he knows it won't be much use if there's a monster up there.

"Who's there?" he asks.

[yournewsidekick]

Nimona's first thought: oh, damn, now that's a metal arrival. Still in the shape of a thin stray dog, she peers out from under one of the tables, already starting to grin as the hearse's door swings open.

And then --

Her eyes widen. As if transfixed, she steps the rest of the way out from under the table, staring as Erin unfurls herself from the car like a queen returning to her rightful throne. "Erin?" she starts to whisper, but the name gets bitten off with the THUMP of Erin hitting the cobblestones two seconds later.

Without thinking, Nimona bounds over to her side. "ERIN!"

[notinflictthem]

"Oh yeah?" Hawkeye asks, unknowing, "like what?"

[pineapplesalmon]

César laughs. "It's not really that cursed. More fun to say that it is."

He walks around and looks down to the plate. "Oh what did you bring? Fudge?"