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

[amourtician]

Anzu raises an eyebrow; he can tell Dimitri has half-wandered off into memories of a place much worse than their present location (the ship again, he assumes, wrongly), but he can't quite follow why introducing oneself with one name rather than another would be a deception.

"Darling, I don't go around asking people to call me what my family calls me, nu?" he says, gently. "By us back home, one has a civic name, and a name for the beys medresh, and the two may not be the name one's family uses, neither. And that's ah, not even getting into the matters of ... why one may want to change one's name, and live as someone other than what their family assumed they'd live as, nu?"

And only belatedly does it occur to him that Dimitri might be fearing something, well, supranatural. Something that might be technically Anzu's job to deal with, if it were to turn up in his neighbourhood, but something that he's rarely even heard of.

"If thou'rt concealing thy name for fear of a gentry other than mortal, darling," he says, "I should rather hope the old lady what let us in here is as discerning as she looks. But ... nu. Worry not. I'll call thee what thou ask'st me to call thee, and none of my business as to the reason behind such a request."

[prince_of_beasts]

Anzu is gentle, and patient. No punishment follows, nor the threat of it. No drooling double maw turns in Dimitri's direction.

Dimitri blinks, once, hard, and shakes himself. The potluck slips into place around him. He shakes his head again.

"F-forgive the odd question," he says -- his voice fades in and out of his own accent and that strange interloper -- "but would you tell me where I am?" Softer, as though he's afraid of the answer: "What color are my eyes?"

[amourtician]

Anzu frowns, concerned for Dimitri, but responds to his request without hesitation.

"They're blue, darling," he says. "A rather more subdued colour than I'm used to, but ah, that seems to be the case with most here. It seems luminescent eyes are, nu. An oddity common only by a few worlds."

[prince_of_beasts]

Blue. Dimitri shakes himself a final time, rubs a hand over his face, and relaxes. "Thank you," he says, restraining himself from apologizing again. He considers trying to explain, but he's reluctant to take up any more space than he has, and 'I had my appearance traumatically overhauled by faerie surgeons' is a lot to drop on someone he's barely met.

"As to what you mentioned earlier, ah ... I'm from the kingdom of Faerghus, in the north of the continent of Fódlan. I don't suppose that sounds familiar?"

[amourtician]

Anzu sighs, half with relief and half because he feels a little foolish.

"It sounds not familiar, darling," he says. "But, ah. Still, I find it interesting how it seems we both thought we may have been born under the same moon, nu?"

[prince_of_beasts]

"People do seem to invent similar things across many worlds. It's comforting, I think, that we can find such familiarity even far from home." Dimitri takes a second look over the dishes and their labels. "The country you're from -- is it a cold one? Difficult to farm? We share several staples, though I don't recognize all of these terms."

[amourtician]

"Feh ... ah. The place I'm from is part of an empire so vast, 'tis difficult to make any one statement of it," Anzu says, thoughtfully. "But certainly much of it has harsh winters, and much of it has poor soil. I know little of farming. I was born in a city, and in a city I shall hopefully die."

He glances away from Dimitri, so as not to scrutinise him too hard, and potentially unsettle him. "But certainly, thy name I've heard before, back home. It's, nu. The name of the solar saint after whom the capitol of that empire was named."