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

[notinflictthem]

"...Really?"

He gestures, "I would've thought you'd want to go back to proper preaching. Not that I'm complaining, it would be nice to have you around, but don't... feel obligated either, y'know?"

[lovethyneighb_or]

He’s…

… he’s doubted his efficacy as a preacher for a long time. In Korea, but especially after. It’s hard to imagine what good it’s done in that damned ship or that Village, especially for things to end up the way they did, and he’s—the last many years of mass and sermons were held in Vickie’s mockery of a home and strangled by Two’s imagined morality enforced by injury and death. He’d done his best to toe the line as close as he could, but what… what good was it? Did anyone actually care? It wasn’t bad that hardly anyone ever showed up, if another passenger wasn’t of or fallen from a different faith they were a delightful miscreant, but—

…

He thinks of Darcy in the dark, asking for a hug.

“I’m not sure I have much of a flock here to preach to,” he laughs lightly. “I’m certainly not giving up on being a priest, but delivering sermons to a pew isn’t much of a job.”

[notinflictthem]

"Just so long as you aren't giving up on it entirely. Another couple of years and I'm sure they'll have you pegged to play Pius XII in his biopic," he jokes, flashing Mulcahy a grin.

"In the meantime, I'm happy to pay you to do my secretary work. I won't even set a miniskirt dress code, because I'm that nice."

[lovethyneighb_or]

“It’s almost a shame. I’d like to think I have the legs for it.”

A short, warm chuckle.

“Ah… but I do think I’ll have to commission a tailor for my vestments. And a silversmith for my crucifix, for that matter. Do you happen to know any, Hawkeye?”

[notinflictthem]

He laughs, in that same way he always does when Mulcahy actually makes a joke. Which is to say, entirely too encouragingly.

"Keep it in the back pocket if mass attendance gets too low, eh?"

A little shove on the shoulder.

"Tailor, we have Annabel Lee for, but I don't know about any silversmith. Maybe the forge? The Infernal ah- maybe not, actually."

[lovethyneighb_or]

“Oh?” he laughs. “Well, I’m sure it’s alright. We’ll only have something to worry about if they refuse my order.”

[notinflictthem]

"If they do, I'll give my best shot making a cup out of tin foil. And we can use popsicle sticks for the crosses."