abraxaslogs | [ OPEN ] an informal event.

[ OPEN ] an informal event.

Who: the summoned of cadens
When: beginning of february
Where: the sarstina inn and tavern
What: sam is hitting two birds with one stone - his February (or whatever February means in abraxas time) family dinner AND a kind of new-summoned-social event. he even had hilda help spread the word!
Warnings: will update if needed!

THE DINNER

As per Hilda's invitation, if any of the Summoned come by Sarstina's that evening, they will find it set up a little differently than it's normal tavern sprawl. There is a large long table set up near the bar that has plenty of food spread out across it - which appears to look very southern-inspired in its intention, limited only by the kinds of ingredients a certain Sam Wilson can get his hands on. Behind the bar is Mag, who will serve whoever it is that comes up to ask for a drink - it appears someone is covering the tab tonight.

There are various tables and chairs set up around the place, as well as a stage on the corner for some live music from one of their very own later in the evening. The vibes is definitely low-key and casual - come get an ale, come eat some food, and if you're a new face there is a very good chance you'll end up (gently and in the most friendly way) cornered by either Sam, Hilda, or one of the other Summoned here to help answer questions and give a bit more background on what the hell is going on and also let you know about Mag's whole deal. Aka, if you're looking for a room until you're a little more on your feet, you are welcome here. Room and board in exchange for work. Not a big gig, right?

And if being social isn't your vibe, Sam's kind of betting on the fact there aren't many here who would turn down free food and drinks. And believe him - the food is pretty damn good.

OOC INFO

- this is a totally open post! I've got a TL below for various scenarios you can find Sam, but otherwise have fun, meet some people, put up a TL of your own! there are various places to run into people in the tavern, and if you find someone who is willing to help you into the Horizon, Sam's been letting people know they can use his room upstairs.

- Sam's only Rule is there will be no fighting. You want to duke it out? Take it somewhere else. There will not be warnings or second chances. Don't be an ass. He has lived in this Inn since he first got here and considers this his home, and if ANYONE is seen giving Mag a hard time, he will not hesitate. He's not afraid of squaring up, but you will not be invited back if you cause too many issues. :)

- this is open to any and all Summoned in Cadens, no matter loyalties or factions. Sam is going to be going overboard to be welcoming, especially to new faces. Even if your character didn't see the big invitation, feel free to have them invited by word of mouth.

- Mag is an NPC who you can read a little more about in the NPC section of the Cadens setting page. Feel free to have her come in and out of your tags as needed!

- any questions? message me at disarmingly

THE INN

Magmara (or Mag) has run the inn for years and has been a familiar face in that neighborhood as a woman who always made ends meet, almost in spite of the way she took care of her friends and neighbors above all else. Most weren't always sure how she managed to run the place on her own, but she made due, though she always seemed a bit overwhelmed and exhausted. When the Summoned arrived in the Cadens through that first portal, Sam managed to stumble in and make quick friends with Mag. In exchange for manual labor, fixing up and cleaning up the inn, as well as whatever other various tasks Mag needed to be done around, Sam would be given free room and board (a deal she now offers to any Summoned that arrives in the city for as long as they need it).

The inn itself is 4 floors tall, with the top three floors making up the 15 or so rooms (around five rooms per floor), and the entire bottom floor reserved for the restaurant area. The tavern makes up the entire first floor and is a large open floorplan, with a small stage in the corner, a walled-off area for the decently sized kitchen, and a large wooden bar where Mag does all her business for both the inn and tavern (where can almost always be found standing behind). It serves drinks of some variety (though not nearly as large a selection as some of the more well-known taverns) and some food (usually a single, large meal that will be served to the tenants and whoever comes in throughout the night for a moderate price). It can be busy some evenings, but in general tends to keep a more 'dive-bar' kind of feel, filled with more locals and regulars than a casual dinner-going crowd.

The rooms themselves vary from fairly simple, single-bed inn-style rooms with a small bathroom and little else, up to a two 'bedroom' suite style with small kitchenettes and spaces for sitting rooms. Each bedroom has its own small bathroom for the tenants, with cleaning, washing, and chores left to those who live there. What used to be more of a working inn now serves as a kind of boarding house for newly arrived Summoned (or simply those who won't leave), and Mag has found herself quite okay with that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

FIRST THINGS FIRST_

[ Arriving some time during the dinner, John Blake has been informally summoned, as the invitation had noted, and upon entering the part of the inn where the food's laid out, he's greeted with a lot of unfamiliar faces. Well, okay, of course they're unfamiliar, but that's not really the point. It's a lot more people than he was expecting (and he's not entirely sure why because he'd seen the group he'd come in with), enough that he finds himself more interested in mingling instead of intermingling.

He sneaks some food onto a plate, perhaps strategically skirting the talkative host in his efforts, and when he settles it's at the end of a table. He's there to watch and eat, although anyone who might play a reverse Uno card would observe the following: Blake is tackling the vittles, trying each thing in succession, disliking nothing. In fact, when he finds a single something he particularly enjoys the most, he does a happy little food dance and finishes it in a single go. For a little guy, he can eat. Not a common occurrence, but cash is slim and so is Blake's hunting abilities.

He's just about to sneak his way out the door with absolute success in speaking not one single word to anyone when he finds himself doing one of those polite little two-steps with someone as they try to cross paths. ]

Oh, sorry— I was— Maybe you should—

[ Miraculously, this little dance will continue. We've all been there, right? Overly polite, Blake can't take the right-of-way, only offer. ]

No, I'll go this way— Wait— Hold on—

WALLFLOWER_

[ Feeling suitably ridiculous — caught, as it were — Blake soon settles into the idea of sticking around for a little while. Maybe it's shame that keeps him (because it's rude to eat and run) or maybe it's something deeper than that, but he posts up against the wall and waits it out, maybe the only person in the room eager for the party to end.

It's not so bad. He hates that he thinks it is so bad, because he knows it's not. The familiar press of people reads of home and Blake's thankful for the comfort of it, but strangers here set him on edge. Perhaps because he's alone, no safety net, no parachute. Hard to trust when you think of it that way.

Could he go back to his room? Sure. It's right here, paid by the day in one way or another, and he could escape for a little while and come back. Thing is, Blake can only stare at the same four walls for so long. This new world — this new old world — moves at an entirely different pace than he's used to, slowed to a state that makes him feel trapped in molasses.

If he's going to fidget anywhere, it might as well be here.

One exception happens by — Magmara Sarstina — who Blake convinces into a truncated but heartfelt dance full of smiles and laughter. He's a good boy and Mag lights his face briefly with a shared warmth before excusing herself to her very busy day. He'd been doing small jobs without so much as a complaint at any hour and who could dislike anything about that?

He's considering returning to that position as a wall anchor when he catches Mag shooing him with a bar towel, discouraging that behavior with warm intentions. Arms up in surrender, Blake chuckles quietly. ]

Yeah, okay. My love's just left me, as you can plainly see... Who else wants to dance?

[ Look, he doesn't lack charisma, he just chooses not to use it. ]

WILDCARD_

[ You know what this means! The more hilarious the better, so go ham. ]

OOC— Prose or Action Spam | Plotting/Starter Requests

[ Hilda happens to be nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the newbies and acting as a good official/unofficial member of the welcoming committee as she can. She flits around the room, mirroring Sam in many ways by ensuring that everyone has everything they need and that no wallflowers are kept tethered to the corner of the room.

When the dancing begins, she can't help but be surprised although she doesn't know why she's surprised in the first place. Maybe it's because Sam thought this was an informal thing and informal things didn't really have dancing, a thought that makes her huff amusedly after the fact.

Amusement transforms into a small bloom of pride when she realizes who has pulled dear old Mags into a dance in the first place. Blake — not Bartie, as she had taken to calling him after their near-mauling experience in Nocwich — had unrooted himself from his spot against the wall. Colour her proud of her fake, gambling husband. When the song comes to a close she claps along with the rest of the crowd before letting out something of a dramatic sigh. ]

Oh, alright, twist my arm. [ She steps in easily, picking up his hands as if she knows the steps to the dance. Instead she stands there expectantly, eyes sparkling up at him mischievously. ] But only because I didn't know you were so light on your feet. You should stick to that instead of sewing.

[ Everyone's a critic. But try as he might, Blake can't seem to shake the smile that's come on as Hilda insinuates herself into another moment of make-believe. Since their last get together he'd taken to mutilating the clothing offered in an attempt to cobble together something more comforting. The middling effect is obvious, but that doesn't deter Blake from imagining a comfortable hooded sweater in his future. ]

What, you think my dancin's gonna pay the bills?

[ The cackling laugh rings out as he leads away, indeed as light on his feet as suggested. Is he an expert at dancing like this? Not really. But it doesn't seem like they've garnered much attention, so he isn't excusing himself quite yet. ]

[ To say that she's delighted at Blake's handling of them on the dance floor is a bit of an understatement. It's not the most graceful leading she's experienced before, but his enthusiasm makes up for it. Her own laughter is bell-like and bright, mingling with Blake's as they dance in their own little world, others not quite yet mustering up the courage yet to do the same. ]

I think it's too early to tell, but it's looking much more promising than your first attempt at making...what did you call it again? A "hoodie"?

[ Modern terms are still a thing she's learning, but picking up pretty quickly all things considered. She leans back slightly to take a look at his current wardrobe choice. ...Oof. ]

Is this supposed to be the second iteration?

[ He can feel that oof of hers and winces dramatically, hissing in a breath. When he's sure he's got a good grip on Hilda, he encourages her into a little spin out that he easily factors into whatever mess of dance steps he's mixing together for them. ]

That bad, huh?

[ Pulling her back in, he gets going conversationally, almost forgetting he's out here in front of all of these people. As Hilda had pointed out, he'd come to this little potluck in a top that's fashioned in the style of a hooded sweatshirt. It isn't uncomfortable by any means, but the material is stiff an unyielding, like thick canvas. His fingertips still ache from shoving a needle through. ]

Look, a hoodie's s'posed to be slouchy an' comfortable. It's meant to be a warm mid-weight fabric and considerin' how everythin' here's got to be sturdy, it's gonna be a hard sell for locals. But I'll bet some transplants would pay for things that remind them more of home.

[ Years of learning dances in her etiquette lessons have paid off. When she's spun she gracefully turns, her head the first thing back around so she doesn't get dizzy before falling back into the tempo that Blake is leading them in. Being so close to him means that she has a full view - and feel - of the fabric and she can't help but wrinkle her nose slightly. ]

Well you're never going to sell anything with the fabric feeling like this. [ She's all for comfort, but she's also a full believer that comfort has to feel good too. The feeling of it underneath her hand at the small of his back is bulky. Maybe there was something cotton that they could use instead. ] If the inside feels anything like the outside, I don't know how many you're going to sell. [ As they take another turn around the tavern she glances up at him. ]

Why don't we go looking for better fabric tomorrow? I'm sure I could help you find something better.

[ He's sure it's obvious that he's using whatever he can find, thrifting around town with the meager means he's managed to earn through his odd jobs. He'd lasted about a day before Blake was too antsy not to engage directly in maintaining his physiological needs, and he's been living lean since he was a kid, so it hasn't been impossible, but it has been difficult. ]

Ah, sure, we can scout some stuff. It's gonna be a bit before I wanna commit to maybe ruinin' somethin' worthwhile.

[ The underlying issue being that he really doesn't have the cash to put down on the table for such endeavors just yet, and he's not so much ashamed to admit it as frustrated with himself for putting something so vapid at the forefront. He could be putting his time and efforts into a hundred better pursuits and yet here they are. ]

You're not busy?

We can get some of the lower quality cotton and make some samples. I know a couple of merchants that would probably give us a good deal if we asked nicely.

[ Thankfully Hilda understands the need for creature comforts and was in no place to judge. Clothing that she felt comfortable in, even if the fashions were different from home, helped her feel more grounded. If she wanted to be vain about it, she'd happily admit that looking good helped her at least pretend that other not-so-nice emotions that came with being pulled into a completely different world against her will weren't there at all. Overall though, she understood where Blake was coming from. Comforts, however silly they may seem, were still comforts.

...That and she can't stand to see someone as boyishly handsome as Blake go around in a lumpy sack like the one he's wearing now. At least the military fatigues had some sort of shape to them. A pout forms on her lips, but she's secretly flattered that he thinks she's got too much to do in Cadens, and when she does speak, there's a teasing quality to her tone. ]

Well what are people going to think about me if we spend more time together and you're wearing that? [ The pout dissolves into a smile. ] I'm more than happy to help you out with your fashion emergency and future business. Just treat me to tea once you sell your first one!

John Blake | The Dark Knight Rises | OTA

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cw: mentions of blood, decapitation

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