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

[yournewsidekick]

...Okay, yeah, it was probably dumb of her to think a goddess-dog would run away from a little shapeshifting.

Nimona grins back -- the embarrassment remains, albeit fainter than before -- as her tail gradually picks up wagging again. "Still dunno how much everybody's gonna freak out here," she admits, bumping her nose against Amaterasu's.

[umm_shafaqat]

"You would win that wager," she says in reply.

The fact that he didn't flinch from her gaze lets her know that he's older than her. The younger vampires tend to get overwhelmed when she looks at them, to say nothing of humans.

Her lips twitch upward slightly. Speaking with another Head of House is a familiar dance, and knowing he's a progenitor in addition... her opening steps to the dance are cautious.

"Those gathered on this island seem to be of many different worlds. In mine, various factions prefer to operate in secret. To attract the notice of the mundane majority is to invite unwelcome attention, particularly from hunters. What state of affairs are you working under, Lord Osborne?"

(And that's either here or at home, she's curious about both.)

[throneoftheblacklodge]

“Ah, my mistake. I assumed military time,” he assures him in that same blunt tone.

Cooper then pauses and leans back in his chair while focusing. Thoughts aren’t spinning through his head the way they used to. His mind had dulled while in the Black Lodge, and he had found himself in something of a meditative state for much of it. Speaking still feels harsh on his own tongue, and his volume seems to fluctuate with much more intensity. The echo of it rings in his ears.

“Tell me, Mr. Cerrit Agrupnin,” he says, voice much softer than before. “What do you make of this place?”

[sistermagnetic]

Her eyebrow arches up, and she chuckles quietly. "Oh, so my reputation precedes me. I promise you that any claims to my goodness are greatly exaggerated."

[battlebyballad]

Music's eyes are filled with complete and honest curiosity. "Who am I to waste good tea?"

She takes a cup gratefully, savors a sip of it. It really is good tea. "What might I call you? I'm honored you'd use one of your sometimes to talk with me, though I hope it's not too bothersome for you to do so."

[lovinglefthand]

"Um, technically? My people are actual mechanical aliens from the planet Cybertron," First Aid explains, a little chagrined that he failed to realize Erin might not know he's a robot earlier. "Our ship crashed on Earth some six million years ago and knocked all of my comrades into stasis. They woke up in 1984 and built me and the rest of my team later that year. Human-built mechanicals are still a little basic, but I'm sure it's just a matter of time until they catch up. In the meantime my people are proud allies of humanity -- we've even had a seat on the UN security council since 1993!"

Cheerfully, he explains, "They had to tweak the charter a little to let us in, since at the time we didn't technically control a sovereign territory. It was a real honor!"

[lovinglefthand]

"Oh sure, go hand out your napkins." First Aid can do vague yet somehow dismissive gestures too. "I'll call you first if there's a spill."

[immortaldemonsoul]

"A human vampire?" Why yes, she does find that more surprising than the part about his profession! But she continues, "Well, so long as you aren't attacking the innocent or people who don't consent, I suppose there's no reason to worry about that! Your presence at this gathering tells me that you must be a known and respected member of this community, Lord Erik. It's my honor to meet you, I'm sure."

She smiles wryly. "If I really haven't disgraced myself in your eyes, I hope you might allow me to give you a few lessons sometime. I was taught how to cook in the Pandaren tradition; they treat the act of preparing and sharing food as a social activity that can establish new ties and strengthen the old. It seems you've already come to a similar conclusion yourself, wanting to cook for the ones you love. Truly a noble cause."

[immortaldemonsoul]

Ellarinne's mouth drops open; for a moment, and despite the fact that her eyes are covered, she seems to stare off into the distance, contemplating the infinite.

"Cheese with peppers," she murmurs. "By Elune, why didn't any of us think that? Now I really need to try this!"

The spicy peneque is a huge success. Ellarinne's ears stiffen up, green patches begin to glow behind her blindfold, and she hums in sheer happiness. "Delicious! Oh, I hope I can persuade you to share the recipe. In Dalaran they mostly use peppers as additional flavoring for meat. This is completely different!"

[astrogator]

Tayrey recognises that pain in his eyes, and her own expression softens. Perhaps he might understand, after all. Might not treat her as if she's overreacting, or as if humans are somehow beneath him because he's capable of things they aren't.

'Not here,' she says at last, quietly. Here is far too public, and she's not committing to telling him somewhere else, is she? Only suggesting that it isn't impossible. Her gaze lingers on him for a moment longer, silent appreciation for his offer and for his willingness to share something of his own pain.

And then she blinks, straightens up a little. 'So how does it work? When my finances are in order, that is. We meet to negotiate contract?'

[astrogator]

Tayrey gives him a thoughtful look. 'The pioneer colonists in my sector managed it. Granted, I don't know exactly how, and you'd have to start by making the machinery, I guess, but at least it's possible. Exact science means reliable results, yes? No guessing and hoping.'

[vespertineactivity]

"I have chosen the name Vespertine. It is my favorite word." It reaches down, bringing the other cup of tea to its lips. It's a little bit silly, really, the cup is much too big for it. It's hard to tell if Vespertine is even drinking the tea, too. "It takes a small amount of magic to have a voice, is all."

Well, that's accurate enough for government work at least.

[apocryphalarchivist]

Was that almost... a compliment? Jon's not sure, but it certainly feels similar to one, as indirect as it may be. He doesn't remark on it, but that's kept in the mental notepad.

"You've not mentioned much of Night Vale, but... I'm sure, if it's as dangerous as it sounds, he was quite brave for doing so," Jon adds. "It's difficult to know that you risk the wrath of your loved ones to expose a grim truth, and to know you've got to do so regardless."

His matter-of-fact attitude has eased, taking a quiet, contemplative moment. Maybe it's Sight seeping through the cracks, even as he tries to look away from the knowing that lies just beneath the surface of Cecil's words, but the entire ordeal leaves lingering sadness. He gets the impression there's a great deal of that, back in Night Vale.

[apocryphalarchivist]

It's clear Daisy is trying, but the pieces of the puzzle art quite clicking for him. It's frustrating her. There's something crucial that she's struggling to say, that core tie that pulls all the other pieces of this together, just out of reach...

The offer to reach for that missing piece takes a great deal of personal restraint not to jump at; he manages, but just barely.

"I do," Jon replies, and one look at him speaks an additional piece of information: he hasn't been getting them. Not recently, at least - he's not completely withered, but he's a tad more gaunt than usual. Before now, he's been easily able to write it off as the famine everyone had endured, but Daisy didn't need such excuses, nor is he particularly sure she wouldn't see right through them.

"As far as I'm aware, no, no nightmares. If there are, no one's told me, and I imagine someone might have mentioned it, at this point. People who I've taken live statements from haven't started avoiding me like the plague just yet." He means that to be half-joking, but it falls a bit flat.

Fortunately, he understands what she's getting at, and doesn't intend to beat around the bush about it. The draw of getting a statement is too strong, anyways - any amount of patience isn't enough to keep him pulled back as far as he might like it to.

"If you'd like to make one, I can take it, ah..." He starts, slower in his words now, trying to keep as measured as possible. "Here, or we could, um--- step away, if you'd prefer?"

[abhorrently]

"You realize that makes you more interesting and not less? At least in my eyes."

No disrespect to those that are purely good, but Fever would feel like she needed to tiptoe around them.

[lasthumanvoice]

"You're right, I haven't mentioned much. If I talk about it all, if I explain..." Cecil doesn't just shake his head, he shakes his everything all at once, bristling thoroughly at the very thought. "I can't. I can't. Even here, I can't. It's not safe. I'm not safe. And no one else will be safe."

The tone of his voice is panicked, and he shudders, pulling in on himself. The conditioning of a lifetime (several lifetimes?) in Night Vale runs so very deep.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John meets the handshake with a grip only firm enough to be warm: not a test of strength, but a clasp of friendship as the gesture is intended, and he doesn't try to break away before the other guy is ready.

And he's...not totally sure what to make of most of what Lev's husband says. It takes him a second to search his memory, figure out what he's saying, and let a real smile banish the vaguely perplexed one that briefly takes up residence on his features.

"Hey, whatever's normal for you is good by me." he replies. "You can call me John--any rate, it's good to meet you, Nyura. How you likin' Pumpkin Hollow so far?"

[hadnoright]

The effects of the kind of hunger that plagues people like them is something she's far too intimately familiar with to not recognise for what it is, it's true. Any excuses would earn little but a flat, disbelieving stare, but he has the sense not to offer them and Daisy has come to care enough about the scrawny bastard that even if the nightmares were still in play, she might have risked it. Maybe the protection of being an employee of the Institute would've carried over. Who's to say.

She sighs and stands up. "Stepping away's probably better. These things always pull out more detail than you expect."

Something she's suddenly very aware of, but Daisy's nothing if not stubborn enough than to try and mitigate the effect somehow. So, she jerks her head towards a quieter area off the square and starts walking, expecting Jon to just keep up with his longer legs.

[hadnoright]

Hm. Alright. Daisy's brow furrows with thought for a moment. Practical first.

"So no one stays dead. That's whatever. Actually pretty used to that, already." Years on the Serena Eterna will do that to you. "But does anything weird happen when people do die?"

good place to fade?

[maximumcake]

He's done a lot of thinking and a lot of growing. At first he was content to call the Serena his home. But... home shouldn't be a place they have to suffer in. He's become so sure of that. Living with her, he wouldn't suffer. He'd be comfortable. He'd feel safe.

Safe, just like he feels now leaning into her arms, deepening the kiss until all he can feel is her all around him.

"I love you."

[maximumcake]

"Yeah," Max says, blinking back some more tears of his own. "I know. I know."

[maximumcake]

Max's eyes light up with gleeful mischief. "Oooh, the things I could tell..." Erik, he knows you can hear him, and that just makes this revenge more sweet.

"Have you figured out he's ticklish on his feet yet?"

[thelatechrisfreeman]

You know that one scene in the 1970s version of 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas', where the Grinch gives the wickedest smile to the camera and his everything curls with glee in the process?

Well, Chris isn't physically capable of such an expression but the look on their face still has that vibe. Spiritually.

"Why, no..." Chris practically purrs, "he neglected to mention that."

Max, you have a very willing proxy for this form of sweet, sweet revenge.

[apocryphalarchivist]

The reaction clearly catches Jon off guard, and he blinks twice, owlishly. He can't imagine that something from one town could reach Cecil, so far away from the mortal world; then again, the Dread Fears reach here, even faintly. What type of place was Night Vale?

He won't ask, of course. He doesn't want to unintentionally pull that information past that barrier, to cause the pain of having something wrapped so tightly yanked out.

But he does furrow his brows, a mix of confusion and concern, and lowers his voice.

"I'm not sure what happened to you there, and I won't claim to know if what it is could reach you here. But..."

He weighs if he should offer. It could be seen as the olive branch he's offering, but it wouldn't be the first time someone's taken it as something much more sinister in intentions. At worst, he supposes that the grudge could come back. After the past few months, that's nothing new.

"If you cannot speak it, but struggle to bear the weight of it on your own, I could--- take it from you?" His offer comes with some stumbling, some fretting about coming off with purely intentions as an infovore, but he's clearly trying his best. "I won't unless directly and specifically asked, but... it's something I've done, before, with, um. Things that can't be said directly, for whatever reason. If this risk is too great, however, it won't be brought up again."

But he will wonder for a long, long time. That's neither here nor there, though.

[maximumcake]

"I... don't actually know who invented the word." And he sucks at languages in general so it may as well all be Greek to him.

"Huh. I'm from 2011 and even I still feel like I'm missing things, so I can only imagine what it's like for you." He gives his head a sad shake.

But he's more eager to get to know Hawkeye now than ever. "Yeah, I know what you mean. The word we have for it is bisexual. Although, I'm more like... pansexual. Which just means everything, really." He doesn't stop at just two, he's gotta collect them all.

"It sucks to feel like you have to hide that part of yourself. I know, I had to sometimes back home. I'm glad to tell you that's not a thing here. No one will look at you differently. Or, if they do, they're the weird ones."