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

[lordoftheozarks]

"I suppose I am," he says, finally deciding to simply let it sit where it may now after so much fuss.

"I do not often attend functions like these. Ah, but allow me to introduce myself. I am Lorde Erik Osborne. I take it you're a newer arrival?"

[when_a_grids_misaligned]

"What is it, anyways?" It's... brown. And flat. And smells sort of nutty. They're not sure if it's an appetiser, a dessert, or a really weird main course.

"I'm Moiré Myrekrig." The surname's Danish, although of course it's not the one they were born with. (Their accent, however, is Canadian.) They pluck at the fabric of their shirt and sardonically add, "What gave it away?"

[lordoftheozarks]

"It's fudge." He's really trying not to be insulted that anyone has to ask. Shouldn't it be obvious? Maybe it's just not so well-known wherever this person comes from. That's what he's choosing to cling to.

"And, yes, the clothes do give it away but I am also making it a habit to recognize faces and yours is new, Moiré." He pronounces it in the exact way that they themselves did even though the rest of his accent is deceptively unremarkable Midwestern English.