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

[spaghettification]

"We certainly can. I am Dr. Siebren de Kuiper." He offers her a hand to shake.

[maskedstarbunny]

And that gets a full, proper laugh from her. The Limsa read was right. She rather missed the flavor, to be honest. "Alas! My libido has outrun the constraints of death itself, I am afraid." Beat... and then another short laugh. "I have never been a subtle creature. The libido does not stop, but everyone gets one rabbit joke. Just one."

It probably says something about her that shes grinning, but genuinely, after two years of Ishgardian society... she really has missed deeply inappropriate senses of humor.

[batteryacid]

Eddie smiles, because despite the imposing figure the particular note of that near-whine is familiar. Universal tone of 'please give me some of what you have'. He slices a new piece of quiche, a little wider than standard, and dishes it up for her.

"Spinach quiche," he explains, "It's a pastry crust filled with chopped vegetables in a base of eggs, milk, and cheese. Goat milk and cheese, in this case." He hands over the plate, along with a fork. "Except for the flour and butter for the crust, it all comes from my farm out in Northwest Hollow."

[immortaldemonsoul]

"Such was my assumption. It's all right." She sits down next to the woman, sighing heavily. "Let's begin again. My name is Ellarinne, and I hail from the world of Azeroth. What of you?"

[abhorrently]

"Reeds? Describe her."

Guess who never got the name memo.

[crushed_pearls]

Leaning forward.

Leaning.

Leaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaning.

"If I only get one I'ma sit on it and use it when you least expect it," Erin says with a straight face, her words Grave. "You've sentenced yourself to a lifetime of anticipation, wondering, is this it, is this when Erin fucking Peters cashes in her bunny joke? Every conversation, every interaction, you'll be wondering. You'll lie awake at night, hoping, wishing, for me to lift this curse of the rabbit humor from you, fearing that I never will, that the blade of the One Bunny Joke will be the specter that haunts you until you die. What if I hold onto it forever and then show up at your wake to spit heat when you can't retaliate? Surely you can find some way to wring the rabbit joke from me, but it. Will. Be. In. Vain."

[crushed_pearls]

"Erin Peters, call me Erin, Earth." She offers a hand out to shake. "Mostly Earth."

[witheredpeonies]

"Yes, yes I do. Impress me, Miss Peters."

[lasthumanvoice]

"There is, we're in it. Also, you're welcome to be an atheist, but the local goddesses believe in you enough that one brought you here. So think on that while I acquire your booze."

[crushed_pearls]

Erin should be saving the Glamour she's managed to harvest so far, but she's betting on a good return here, and also it's best to flex a little so this youngblood thinks friend might be better. Yeah, that's logical, so...

Erin hops up, as if to mount the table, and lands on it all of two inches tall.

[witheredpeonies]

Oh look, pocket pussy.

"Ah, that's magic, isn't it? And now the handkerchiefs could be whole bed pallets for you."

[crushed_pearls]

"This is not the end of the trick," Erin says, praying on a good reaction from -

Turning into a perfect copy of the square in her pocket, now indistinguishable from the others except by the embroidery. After a moment the square flutters towards Annabel, and then: "My rival game is a bit off the shits, you see."

[crushed_pearls]

"I really don't want to talk about it," Erin murmurs. "...I'm here, you're here, that's what matters and there's trees and I can hear water so maybe there's fish and we can finally go out on dates in a real forest instead of that fake bullshit and, and -"

A tiny sob hitches Erin's chest.

[abhorrently]

"Dr. de Kuiper. I'm Fever. Newly off the ferry and pleased to meet you."

She takes his hand, shakes it, and flashes a more genuine smile.

"I really didn't expect such hospitality when I woke up."

[witheredpeonies]

"Do you need me to demonstrate my own? You're not the only one here with some neat tricks..."

[crushed_pearls]

Erin waits patiently, pondering if she should correct her phrasing or -

"Would it be better if I said I'm currently in the spiritual marketplace?" is the first thing out of her mouth when Cecil is back.

[crushed_pearls]

"She's the spooky noodle with knife fingers that hates me."

[spaghettification]

"I'm also newly arrived, straight from--ah, well, nevermind the circumstances. I am here now, and that is what matters."

She is hardly the only one who is now free in a way that could only be imagined before.

[lasthumanvoice]

"You should visit the temple. Or speak to the priest-in-training, or the preacher. Or the metalloid being covered in plants. Or one of the goddesses themselves, that might also work. But not the demons, don't start dealing with the demons."

[i_ink_therefore_i_ammy]

"Ylva, a recent arrival and fellow wolf, she came to here from a land with no trees, no wildlife, no grass, or fish, or birds." The horror is evident in Amaterasu's voice... and perhaps, explained by the blooming wildlife beneath her, now that she has stayed in one place for a bit. Grass is sprouting, flourishing despite the fact that it is early spring at best. Small lizards are scurrying out from under it, startled by her casual movements. Flowers are blossoming at her paws.

[crushed_pearls]

Erin smiles slow as she accepts her beer, and it is not a friendly or warm thing. "Demons need to not deal with me, Cecil."

[abhorrently]

"Oh, Nyx!"

There's an equal small note of fondness in Fever's tone now.

"She wasn't calling herself that when I met her, she was insisting on Kevin's number for her, and when I pointed out that there was no need for that, she challenged me to rename her. So, I gave her a choice - take my number, since I had no intention of ever using it, or Nyx. She chose the latter."

She chuckles a little, as if to say of course she did.

"Her original name was Reeds, huh..."

[crushed_pearls]

"I know you're not going to bully a poor innocent pocket square during her time of infirmity, youngblood," Erin teases; she lifts the corner of her cloth and whaps Annabel with it. "From the way you cut those vowels that'd be a bit beneath your station, no?"

[immortaldemonsoul]

"Ishnu-dal-dieb," Ellarinne squeaks, the phrase perhaps an expression of gratitude or a ritual blessing from her tone. Her ears are bouncing slightly with anticipation as she takes the plate and snatches up a fork -- seemingly having no issue with either despite the covering over her eyes -- and digs in.

There is no other way to put this: she moans in sheer sensory pleasure. "Delicious! The pastry is so light and crumbly, and the eggs are so fresh! You said this came from your farm? You're doing a wonderful job out there sir, wonderful indeed." The only thing wrong with the quiche is that it's gone too quickly; despite Ellarine's attempts to stretch it out, her zeal works against her; it's not too much longer before the slice has been reduced to only a few small crumbs, and her ears are drooping with sorrow. Farewell, fair quiche. You will be remembered well.

[lasthumanvoice]

"...Erin. Miss Peters. Devourer of Cake and Ale. Do not think that you are beyond the reach of the local demonic royalty."

There is strain in his voice.