pumpkinhollow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pumpkinhollow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2024-03-05 05:57 pm
pumpkinhollow) wrote in ph_logs2024-03-05 05:57 pm
Entry tags:
Mingle - Emergency Potluck
Pumpkin Hollow Community Bulletin
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.
no subject
"Mm. Intriguing. Never sure if that's a compliment." It depends on the person, the intention. One of the few things she didn't like about Basira was when she got it into her head to try and solve people like they were a puzzle. It's one of the things she doesn't like about a lot of Eye types, really. Everything's a mystery to be pried open.
Intriguing, from a person like that, means something very different than it does from other people.
"What do you know about me? You made some... observations, sure, but that's different."
She doesn't expect much, if anything. She knows just as little in return, after all. Their acquaintanceship hasn't been one of much true conversation.
no subject
She shrugs her shoulders. They haven't spent much time getting to know each other, and Daisy had been giving her a berth, so there's so much she doesn't know. But Fever won't pretend that she knows more than she does, that the woman didn't have a right to privacy.
"What I mean when I say 'intriguing' is that you're someone I'd like to get to know, if you allow it."
The latter tacked on because if Daisy wants to go straight back to avoiding her, she's not going to track the woman down and force her presence on her.
"This time without the flaming alcohol. Unless you're burning to repeat the trick."
no subject
Daisy snorts and covers her mouth with her fist, trying (and largely failing) to hide that a stupid pun is enough to make her laugh. Don't let them know your weaknesses, yadda yadda yadda... as if that ship hasn't sailed. Max and Erin already know, at the very least.
She has to clear her throat before she can drop the hand and speak again. "...I'm something called a Hunter. All of this—" she gestures, loosely, at her face and wiggles her claw-tipped fingers, "—came from a god of Fear. It made me into a monster, because... that's what I was. Am. Got a better handle on it, now. But I still hear the blood. And I still feed on fear."
It's bare bones, really. The kind of information she's gotten used to sharing, having to explain what she is in different contexts, over the last couple years. The personal details are still under lock and key, a key currently held by only a handful of individuals at most.
"You're... something. Don't know what. Not gonna ask. Can't say the feeling you put off doesn't make the blood louder. But you're... alright." For someone who smells like her childhood trauma amplified a thousandfold. "So. Sure."
no subject
There's a twitch in her expression, a shift, a different kind of tension that's not fear or nervousness or anything else, but a focus. An alert, the feeling of a gaze met across a crowded room. And there's a great crashing in her head, shattering glass, lightning struck and the ozone burning in the aftermath.
Kinship, potentially. If she raises her hands to the mirror, will others come to meet her.
There's a pause when Daisy finishes, and Fever leans back on her hands, addresses her words to the sky.
"...I'm a monster too."
That's really the only word for it, isn't it. She can play nice all she wants, but at the end of the day, she's still a hunting hound for horrors. Still the horror herself. If she thinks too hard, she'll taste the blood behind her teeth.
"It...isn't a conversation for here."
This place of friendliness, of these people trying to welcome them in, allowing them to set their feet down after the Serena Eterna, sunlight and the chill of early spring. They can't hear it. Can't know. She's already going to place herself in a corner if that Dr. West hears about her and decides she's unfit to live among them. And telling Daisy about this -
It hits her in that moment that step by small step, she's been wanting to tell people the truth. Wanting again, to say something, and have it be understood. To slowly build a circle that sees her unmasked, and perhaps, at least, they do not chase her away so far.
no subject
It's hard to miss the shift as it happens. The eye of a predator is trained to catch subtleties, to know when to attack, and the mind of a Hunter is wired to twist everything it can into a weakness. The slightest favouring of one side or another. The connections you make too obvious. The fears that cling to you. The emotion laid bare on your face.
Rip her throat out, she wouldn't even see it coming.
No.
Walk away. Deny her whatever it is she thinks she sees.
No.
She's gotten used to ignoring it. The way the connections form, the way she can imagine each step so quickly. The killer in her that knows how to hurt, how to put a person on their back foot. (Sometimes they make it so easy. Trevor, Julia—one threat, that's all it took, all she needed to know which of them would really take it the hardest if the other died. Trevor was an old hound, experienced. He really should've known better than to show his hand. Maybe then she would've killed him first.)
Daisy shakes the thoughts away.
Fever sees something in what she says and it feels different, somehow, from the way Erin sees something in her. So Daisy looks at Fever, as she looks to the sky, and then she follows her gaze up and breathes.
"...alright. Somewhere else, then."
no subject
Daisy knows she's a sorceress, that she never goes unarmed, so to speak. There is no danger in a private meeting, even with a self proclaimed Hunter. But she needs the space, needs to know that for one night this town won't throw her out, send her back on the ferry the other direction. It's not easy to reopen this particular wound, to remove a mask she's gotten very, very good at wearing. There can't be an audience, or she'll find an excuse to avoid the subject.
no subject
Daisy drags her tongue over her teeth. Without a real lay of the land it's hard to know where's truly ideal for a private conversation, but they'll have to make it work.
"Edge of the woodland to the north? Early afternoon?"
Plenty before dark, without having to set out too early. Far enough from town to keep people's noses out, without going far enough they might have to deal with whatever lives out there.
no subject
And that's enough for her to stand and head off, needing to take a long walk on her own to mentally wrestle with the questions she's going to be asking herself. Mustering the courage to actually keep this appointment.