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

[crushed_pearls]

"Don't worry, my queen bee days are so over that they never started. I like my barfights, my whiskey, and my shockingly inappropriate jokes."

Her cadence and word choices remind Erin a bit of Watson. Still, doesn't pay to assume. "You did these yourself?"

[witheredpeonies]

"You're going to get along with River, I think." What, is she wrong? "And yes, yes I did. You're speaking to the owner and stitch bitch of Whitlock Needleworks."

[crushed_pearls]

"Charmed, Lady Bitch." Erin does a picture-perfect curtsy for all that she doesn't have a dress to do it in. Grinning: "I'm something of a bitch myself."

[witheredpeonies]

"Which clearly means we're either going to end up as friends or rivals." Or enemies who flirt, which is secretly Annabel's favorite, but no one needs to know that.

[crushed_pearls]

"Mmm. You wanna see a trick?"

[witheredpeonies]

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

[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."

[witheredpeonies]

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

[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?"

[witheredpeonies]

"Yes, well, I can hardly be the merchant shipper my father was, here on this island, can I?"

Annabel picks Erin up by a corner, lowering her voice. "I died twice before arriving here, and have harnessed my spectre. Do I need to invoke it here, for you to take me seriously?"

[crushed_pearls]

"You'll quickly find that this is me taking you seriously, youngblood," the pocket square murmurs back. "I just, and I mean just, got out of some very tense politics. Blood between friends, people dead, screaming matches, several suicide bombings, and it also got worse. I am not interested in a rival. A friend might be nice. So let me return your question: do you need to scare me to feel like you're being taken seriously?"

[witheredpeonies]

The words suicide bombing are enough of a shock to get Annabel to drop Erin on their own. Those hadn't been invented, in her time. She shudders and it goes through ehr whole body.

Words will be a moment, please hold.

[crushed_pearls]

The square flutters in the breeze, waiting patiently. If Annabel wants to play games she deserves to fully understand the level at which Erin is used to playing them. She's. So tired.

[witheredpeonies]

"Right. No. No, no, no. No."

Those sure are words. Are they useful?

[crushed_pearls]

"The funny trick was me trying to be polite," Erin says, her voice still soft. "I'm not threatening you, but I don't play games anymore unless I get a safeword. 'm sorry."

[witheredpeonies]

"Understood."

Look, she needs to actually figure out how to play those games properly with River before getting anyone else involved. But the point is firmly made.

[crushed_pearls]

"Would the good news help?"

It's gonna be more Glamour, but this might buy some peace, relief, and distraction for the poor lass.

[witheredpeonies]

“That depends wholly on what the good news is.”

No fairer response than that.

[crushed_pearls]

"Lay me on the table, I wanna visually demonstrate a style I got introduced to that I really wanna get made as soon as I can. Or bought, but...made, ideally. From the way you said things earlier, you run a business, which implies there's money here, which further implies you might want money."

[witheredpeonies]

"Yes and yes. Show me what you've got."

She lays Erin out politely.

[crushed_pearls]

Erin flops a bit further away, rotating herself for some inscrutable purpose. "Christ I'm out of it," she mutters. "I promise I normally do the entire shift at the same time..."

First the square expands.

Then she turns into a dress.

[witheredpeonies]

"Good news, bad news time. I can definitely make it, but there's going to be a bit of a cost in materials. You're going to need to get a job before anything like this becomes possible for you."

[crushed_pearls]

"Figured. It's a bit elaborate, but...never felt more like myself in another style. Feel free to pick me up and examine me, my sense of touch ain't exactly one to one like this."