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

[lightconductor]

Watson, suddenly flustered, coughs into his sleeve.

"Don't change the subject. And yes, fine, I will admit that it is... unconventional. And requires some compromise. Go on, make your jokes."

[notinflictthem]

"Naw, naw, I'm just glad you've taken to him like a duck to water. Y'know, that he's taken you under his wing. Since you two are of a feather. I mean really, it makes sense, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. A connection like that is rare as hen's teeth."

Both hands up, "okay, I'm done. And I wasn't changing the subject, it was a bit of genuine scientific curiosity. That isn't a crime, Doctor."

[lightconductor]

"Good, thank you. Do you feel better, having got that off your chest?"

Watson rolls his eyes a little. He can't help it, even if the topic is a little bit his fault for bringing up. "I am aware of how mad it is. I've simply chosen to not care about that fact. And yes, maybe we cannot kiss with the usual technique but his people have their own ways."

For one, it's actually rather nice to be held and nuzzled by a very large bird.

[notinflictthem]

"Okay, okay, I get the point, I was just teasing. Don't get your feathers ruffled. Now I'm done."

He won't be.

"You should invite me over for dinner anyway, eh? It'd be nice. I used to bunk with another guy and a very large weasel, and as nice as it is having my own space again, I miss the company."

[lightconductor]

Watson does not believe he's seen the end of it, and is already resigning himself to a future of bird puns.

"You will have to deal with my cooking, remember," he says. "I've mostly graduated from sandwiches, at the very least."

[notinflictthem]

"So we introduce these fine people to the concept of take-out, that's hardly a bother, right? C'mon, I've been locked in a freezing clinic all winter, I would kill for an actual dinner party."

Look at him, two whole sentences without more bird puns!

[lightconductor]

"That might be best," Watson laughs. "You can be spared my efforts to not eat at the Oak & Iron every night, at least. And this is a good start, at the very least."

[notinflictthem]

"Good, then we're settled," he hefts an arm over Watson's shoulders.

"Now I don't know about you but I'm going to shove food into my face until I get a new medical condition unknown to science that they'll name after me for being the one to discover it. Wanna watch?"

[lightconductor]

"I'll take notes as your symptoms develop," Watson says, deadpan. "I hope you'll have the decency to credit me for my contribution. A footnote, at the very least. Come, let's sit down."

[notinflictthem]

"We'll call it 'Pierce and Watson Syndrome'. And we'll submit it for the Nobel prize for medicine," he agrees, sitting down where Watson is.

"Honest. As if I'd try and stiff you out of the prize money."

[lightconductor]

"Well, you're a scoundrel, but you're at least a mostly honest scoundrel. I take it the Nobel prize is prestigious?" Watson gives a little laugh. "Should I start planning on how I'm going to spend my riches now?"

[notinflictthem]

......

"Before I explain the nobel prize, are you from before or after the invention of dynamite?"

[lightconductor]

"Well, of course I am -- wait, that's... Alfred Nobel, isn't it? The prize is named for him?"

A slightly confused frown.

[notinflictthem]

"Yeah that's the one. See- dynamite paved the way for modern ballistics, and our buddy Mr Nobel decided that he wanted his legacy to be... not that. Story goes he read his own premature obituary that called him 'the merchant of death'. So he funded a prize for fields that better humanity- medicine, literature, uh- peace, physics, and chemistry. Very big thing, lots of publicity, it's about... $20,000 in prize money, last I remember."

[lightconductor]

Watson gives a thoughtful sort of hum. "I can't say I blame him for his motivations. Interesting. All right, I can't complain about the opportunity to split a prize like that. Why, I can retire anywhere I like!"

[notinflictthem]

"Have you considered retiring right here in sunny Pumpkin Hollow? The beaches are to die for!" he says in his best travel agent voice.

[lightconductor]

"You joke," Watson says, waving his fork at Hawkeye, "but that's a genuine thought I've had. There's nothing and no one for me in London anymore. This place is... grand. Demons aside, of course."

[notinflictthem]

"Really?" Hawkeye seems genuinely surprised by that.

"Strapping young duck like you doesn't have anyone waiting up in London going ach blimey where's my Watson?"

[lightconductor]

"Not anymore."

[notinflictthem]

"With that ominous tone you could do obituaries on the radio," he offers, a little weak.

"Sorry about that. I mean, once we fix the demons it'll be a nice place to live. Better to have somewhere you belong than not, right?"

[lightconductor]

Watson sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose.

"I had a wife, and a very dear friend, and I lost them both less than a year apart." There. At least that much explanation is owed. "There is something to be said for a place where the sense of community is strong, the social mores are comfortingly permissive, and it is never dull."

[notinflictthem]

"You don't-" he tries to start, but Watson explains anyway. He wilts a little, visibly.

"You didn't have to. I'm incapable of keeping my damn mouth shut. I'm sorry, like I said."

[lightconductor]

"It's all right," Watson says. He waves his hand dismissively. "You may as well know. If I seem to be throwing myself quite enthusiastically into life here, well, I know a fresh start when I see one. I'm not the first man to be widowed, and I won't be the last."

[notinflictthem]

Hawkeye nods, both eyebrows raised in an expression of 'fair enough'.

"You're doing a great job of it. And hey, maybe it will be nice without all the demons."

...

More quietly, "like how it was in that dream."

[lightconductor]

When he answers, after a moment's pause, it's a in a low murmur, "It was a rather appealing life, wasn't it?"

It had been peaceful in a way his life has rarely been, safe in a way he's not sure he's ever achieved. Watson, admittedly, muses often on these memories of being a seal with a husband and a novel-writing career.

"Though I could have gone without the memories of an entirely new war in my head."