Mingle - Emergency Potluck

[pumpkinhollow]

Pumpkin Hollow Community Bulletin

Main Nav | Permanent Bulletin | Calendar |

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

[apocryphalarchivist]

Don't worry, Cecil, there's not much warmth being offered in return. Less anger, but pleasantries haven't exactly done him any good here before, why bother with them now?

A corner is easy enough to find, and he leads Cecil there, posture rigid and thoughts racing. He stops and turns only when they're far enough out of earshot of anyone else for comfort, and after a moment of enduring that hard look he's getting, he speaks.

"I... apologize, Cecil, for purchasing Lot 37, and what effects that had on you," He starts, calm and measured as he possibly can be. "I had intended to return it to you, and purchased it to prevent anyone else from trying to figure out what its purpose was. But I didn't succeed in doing that, and, not knowing the gravity of it--- failed to prioritize doing so appropriately. For that, I'm deeply sorry."

[itsjustabaddream]

Neil pauses, giving the stranger an odd look, then laughs. "Not at all, sir. I'm able to walk through the dreams of others!"

[restingslasherface]

Fever you are about to receive a rare privilege: Jean attempting a joke on purpose.

"It seems like he's quite shit at naming, comrade!"

[crushed_pearls]

"You don't have to worry about me breaking hospitality, Jon. I can't really think of a higher crime."

[itsjustabaddream]

"It does seem invasive, doesn't it? You're not the only one who's felt that way. As I said, I usually spend some time establishing trust beforehand. Most people don't want a random stranger marching into their raw, unfiltered mind. But a trusted advisor and confidante is a different story." Neil explains all this jovially, taking no offense at her concerns. "But the less invasive version is the counselling. I spent many years studying the best ways to manage various mental and emotional struggles, so I'd like to think I know how to help."

[lightconductor]

"Not one for parties?" Watson asks politely. He, too, is lingering at the edge of the party, plate in hand, cane resting against his leg. "I suppose it is rather a lot to experience.

He leans over to offer a hand to shake. "Dr. Watson, by the way."

[actuallyawolf]

Ah, so that's happened before. That's not exactly reassuring, but it's at least an explanation, of sorts.

Ylva shakes her head. "I don't remember anything like that. What prison mess?"

[lightconductor]

"Mmf," Watson says. "Oh, you absolutely should. I do enjoy a spicy meal. Are they difficult? I've had to learn more cooking in the past few months than the entire rest of my previous life."

He sighs, elaborately put-upon for the trials of being a middle-class 19th century Englishman.

[blindwatchersees]

"Oh, well, that's much more exciting! Do they have to volunteer, or can you hop into whatever dreams you please? Is it poor form for you to do so? Ever walked into the wrong dream by accident?"

[abhorrently]

If Jean expected a coherent response, they're about to be disappointed. She loses what little control she had all over again, and just laughs and laughs. How poetic it really is, that the man she had nurtured such hatred towards is now only a punchline, a joke stripped of all power over them. She's out, and he's dead.

Finally, she manages to straighten up, and just takes so many breaths.

"Oh...oh, I needed that."

[abhorrently]

Physicians, plural? That's surprising, but in a positive way. It means that if something goes wrong, there are those who can look to it. Easier than having to manage on one's own when unneeded.

"Oh, I'm nothing of the sort. Just an adventurer who's seen enough situations go sour to hope for the best and be braced for the worst."

Best to clarify this now, rather than later.

[somebodychildofanyone]

"Your boss huh? What kinda work?"

River did say her own professions, surely it's only fair.

henry blake / m*a*s*h / will match style

[letemallcheer]

( when henry blake found himself on the receiving end of some spiel about about being maybe-dead and something about a second chance in a funny town, he'd argued at first. "do you have any idea how many kids are dying back there in that war?" he'd asked. "why don't you give one of them another chance, huh?"

but his questions seemed to fall on deaf ears, and eventually he'd accepted the deal, and been shuffled off to the next point.

and that was that. he'd shown up to town right on the verge of fuming about it, determined to find out who he needed to send an official letter to about this whole operation, or, if that failed, who he needed to send an official letter to in order to find out who he needed to send an official letter to.

but that was all hours ago. now that he's at a potluck with a spread of food that is both identifiable and edible, well. he's singing a different tune. in fact he's beaming as he piles his plate with food, practically one step away from whistling a jaunty tune as he goes. )

Boy, isn't this swell? ( he asks his nearest neighbor amicably. ) I think the only thing this little shindig's missing is a good lemon meringue. Don't tell my wife I said this but I think this place could give her recipe a run for its money.

[apocryphalarchivist]

"I don't doubt it, but you can never be sure. Demons crashing parties and all that sort of thing."

He neglects to elaborate, and instead leans over to the table to grab his glass of floral tea to take a drink.

[notinflictthem]

The only warning Henry gets is the increasingly loud thumping of shoes on the ground, then a particular scrawny doctor of his acquaintance yoinks his plate from his hands and crushes him into a hug.

"HENRY!!!"

Hawkeye Pierce, dressed in three clashing patterns as bright as a Christmas tree, in the flesh.

"How the hell are ya?! Where've you been??"

[abhorrently]

There's a look that crosses her face, something considering, before her eyes flick to those around. Busy, distracted - not close enough. Her voice lowers, to reduce the risk of being overheard.

"What if said struggles are...too much for you to handle?"

She can't openly speak of violence, not in these circumstances. But she needs to know that if she speaks, he'll take her seriously. How rare that still is. How rare it's still likely to be.

[yournewsidekick]

Oooh.

Okay, (1) Nimona loves the hair. It's ridiculous that something so simple undoes a few of the nervous knots in her stomach, but it's just... nice, to see someone new who might vibe on the same frequency as her. Like all the weirdos and monsters of the Serena Eterna weren't a one-time fluke.

And (2), just as importantly, those mushrooms look delicious.

(Didn't Nimona just gorge herself on an entire cold cut platter? Shhh, don't worry about it.)

There's a faint noise, like a shimmer of light made audible -- and all of a sudden, the woman's basket sags under an extra pound and a half of weight as a pink squirrel vaults into the middle of the food.

[notinflictthem]

"What a weirdly specific thing to ask someone," he says as if there's not a couple of fallen hairs on the collar of his shirt.

"We've all been tightening our belts lately. Why, have you? Got some stash of acorns buried under your house that I don't know about?"

[notinflictthem]

"I don't know about that. I mean, we were schlepping our way through Korea together, right? I can't imagine anything worse than that."

Which isn't true. Sometimes he still wakes up gripping at himself, checking if he remembered to stitch himself back up when he cut his own liver out. But that's a lot to place on the good Father, when he himself still can't decide whether it really happened.

"I hope they turn up, anyway. I go to say a joke and then I look and Trap isn't there to finish it. Not to mention all the paperwork I have to do myself now."

[somebodychildofanyone]

"Yeah. I work with hellfire, purest forge-flame you could ever ask for. Great for enchanting, works with any metal you care to put in it, doesn't need coal...it's good shit. Dangerous, but what fire isn't?" River shrugs, philosophically.

[yournewsidekick]

Like an electric current, the shiver passes through Nimona, too, and she presses her head into Erin's hand to soak up as much comfort as she can.

"Yeah." Smaller. "It -- "

(It takes all her willpower not to shift right then, just to prove to herself that she can. She just barely keeps hold of her dog shape.)

"They took away all our powers, too."

[restingslasherface]

"Would it help further to hold Agent Charlie?" On hearing her name the baby chick on Jean's shoulder peeps several times and makes Threatening Displays at Fever. "She'll calm down if I hand her to you, she is secretly a big fan of being held!"

[yournewsidekick]

"Eh. Murder, mayhem, malfeasance, general villainy," she says with a canine shrug. "That's what I was aiming for anyway. Long story -- he wasn't actually a villain, but I got onboarded as his sidekick anyway. Great gig."

She lowers her belly to the ground with a sigh, resting her snout on her paws.

"But... I haven't seen him in a while."

[lastofthefirst]

"I'm trying to design one, and while I'm never going to have one of your mammal bodies I do need to understand how normal use might inflict wear and tear on the structures."

[lastofthefirst]

Quietly. So quietly...

"I do. I've said before that if I'm gonna hurt people I'd rather it be on purpose. Hurting them on accident is a fucking insult."