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

[immortaldemonsoul]

"Well met." Ellarinne is propping up a building with a cup of wine, likewise "watching" the crowd -- that is, she's certainly facing the crowd, but her eyes are completely covered by a white linen blindfold.

But perhaps it is only decorative. Her expression turns sympathetic the longer she looks at Fever, and she toasts her with the wine, saying, "You walk under a heavy burden indeed, warrior."

Her ears are long and elvish, but a pair of ram horns extend out from under her long, teal hair. Quite the unusual figure indeed.

[abhorrently]

There's not a great change over Fever, but it's subtle in her eyes. A tension that grows, a veiling of the inner self. Once, she had been able to tolerate people looking, perhaps. But with everything that's occurred, with forced paths left to close, it becomes less and less tolerable. Still, caution. This woman isn't in there. And she's reminded of Valdis, of how it can't cease. Of Erin, and what she senses. Things that can't be helped.

Caution, then. She'll have to be on her guard in this place.

"Don't we all to have taken the ferry here? Nearly dying and needing to settle in would be a burden on anyone's mind."

The words are polite, but there's a thin, razor sharp edge underneath them. If the stranger can stop doing that, then stop. If not, then at least the veil will offer some privacy, but the sentiment is clear. Such is her own business.

[immortaldemonsoul]

The spell the warrior casts on herself is about as subtle as dropping a velvet curtain over a statue, and equally as pointed: don't look. She frowns and avert her gaze.

"If that seemed rude, then I ask your forgiveness," she says quietly. "I meant only to express my sympathy. Some might say that my sight is also a burden."

[abhorrently]

"...you're not the first person around me with something they can't turn off even if they wished it."

She sighs, the edge out of her voice.

"I appreciate the spirit in which it was offered. But I don't know you, plain and simple. My burdens are ones I find it difficult to speak of even to close friends. So, out of the blue? You caught me at the wrong end of a knife."

[immortaldemonsoul]

"Understood." Ellarinne continues to look out at the crowd, not at Fever; but after a moment she shifts her cup to her far hand and offers Fever the closer, palm-up. "Yet I would still offer you my aid if such is possible, an my respect if it be not. My name is Ellarinne. Some have given me the honor of calling me their champion, although others have said I am no better than a fool. I lend no weight to either title."

[abhorrently]

"Well met, Ellarinne. My name is Fever, and I claim no titles here either."

She'll accept the hand - there's no reason to be hostile, in this case. Nothing more than a twinge behind her eyes that gripes like a wounded beast with a bad leg.

"As for aid or respect, let's leave that to what time will show is better suited."