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.

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[Getting cute girls to smile at her just happens to be one of her favourite leisure pursuits, so it's unfortunate really that she has to go and spoil it with the outline of her former life. It comes in quick, just as expected, the what the fuck expression, and her flat and flummoxed oh is no particular surprise. She can't help feeling slightly as though she's brought a downer on the festive mood--

--until Hilda starts piling her plate with further delicacies, demonstrating that getting cute girls to feel sorry for you can be just as fulfilling as getting them to smile. Gideon slants her another easy grin as she takes the plate, fork stabbing straight into the hefty slice of chocolate cake with wanton abandon.]

Honestly? I totally agree with you. I do deserve all the desserts. Food on the Ninth sucked ass, like, for almost my entire life I thought the point of food was just for refuelling, you know? Shit you need if you wanna get big and strong.

[She shovels cake into her mouth, makes a sound that leaves no uncertainty as to how good it tastes.]

Fuck, that's good. I think the other Houses did have desserts. The Third, Fourth, and Fifth I'd be willing to bet had all the dessert they could ever dream of. But I guess it was just one of the problems of being stuck on a back-water planetoid with a bunch of creepy old heretics. The Ninth House was broke, and the only food we could grow ourselves were sad, anaemic vegetables under artificial sun lamps. Tasted like nothing, pretty much. Everything else was shipped in via supplies, and I dunno if the higher-ups had a secret stash of sweets they weren't sharing, but an indentured servant who no-one particularly liked was not getting her hands on any of that.

[ There's something satisfying about being able to take care of someone this way. She knows that Gideon isn't starved for desserts here in Abraxas especially considering how long she's been here, but it's still nice to do the taking care of instead of the other way around. Although if she's being honest with herself, she'd never grow tired of being pampered. But this wasn't about her!

She rests her chin on her hand as she watches Gideon dig into the cake, grinning into it at the happy noises Gideon makes along with her vocal exclamation. ]

I know that the food tasted awful but at least that food was good for something. [ There's another appreciative once over at Gideon's build that she isn't particularly shy about hiding. Her next question though turns over in her mind. Gideon had seem receptive so far to her questions, but the last thing she wants to do is come across insensitive or rude. She chances it anyway figuring that it couldn't hurt. ]

How did you end up there? Or was it just sort of like...hey! I was born here so I don't really have much of a choice about where to go?

[She may have been here long enough now to have better accustomed herself to real girls giving her real compliments, but that doesn't mean she's entirely immune to the hot rush of feeling that comes with them. There's a prickle of heat in her cheeks that threatens to spread, probably not helped along by the unbidden fantasy of Hilda feeding her cake whilst whispering Gideon, your biceps are magnificent. She shoves a macaron into her mouth - swiftly - before she can say anything too incriminating.

Answering questions about her shitty past seems a less likely way to get herself in trouble.]

Nah, I wasn't born there. I don't actually know where I was born. [She continues as she finishes her mouthful.] My mother dropped down the drill shaft in a haz suit with me inside a bio-container when I was about a day old. But the bio-container had drained all her life support, so she was DOA. No one knows where the fuck she came from or what she was doing there, so they just took me on as like, the tiniest bondswoman in history.

[ For the record, Hilda loves incriminating things, especially when she can use it as a tool for flirting. And she would have gladly showered Gideon's biceps (and arms, and legs, and well, you get the idea), if that's what she wanted because Hilda, was if, nothing else a gracious party host. It's hard to think about flirty thoughts though when some of the words coming out of Gideon's mouth are completely foreign to her.

She's nibbling daintily on one of the macarons because why not indulged herself, but her chewing slows as she lets out a bit of an embarrassed laugh. Is it appropriate to laugh when someone's just told you that they don't know where they were born or that their mother (probably) died? Absolutely not. But in her defense, the number of words she doesn't understand is what the laugh is directed at and so much at Gideon. ]

Wait, wait, wait. What's a haz suit? And DOA? And a bondswoman? I promise I'm not laughing at you or what you're telling me but I feel like I'm in a class I didn't do the reading for.

[There's the slight raise of a ginger brow at the laugher, but she thinks she can detect the uncertainty in it even before Hilda promises it's not Gideon she's laughing at. The confusion, at least, is something she's come across plenty of times before. So many of the Summoned have told her that when she starts talking about the solar system she comes from, it feels like she's speaking another language. Which - considering they're all from different worlds - she's always thought was fair.]

Yeeeaaah, like I said. The society I'm from seems like it kinda went in a vastly different direction to everyone else's somehow. It made for a headache when I first got here. Like, everyone else seemed to have at least some grasp of things, you know? Meanwhile there was me going oh, what's a bird? What's rent? Why the hell is everyone so bizarrely rich that they can afford shit like real paper or wood? Where the fuck are all the skeletons??

[She shrugs it off, eyes glittering just slightly as she lifts a croissant from her plate.]

So, a haz suit is a full-body suit thingy that protects you from hazardous materials. Like it covers your face and everything, provides oxygen. DOA means dead on arrival. I guess...she saved me at the expensive of herself?

[She likes to think of it that way; that once she had mattered so much to someone they were prepared to sacrifice their life for hers. It's a thought that had carried her through some intensely bleak and lonely times.]

And a bondwoman is basically just another word for slave. My teacher always said I wasn't one, but like, if you're made to wear a security cuff and you're never aloud to leave even after you're dead then that's just fucking semantics, right? It's where someone is indebted and have to work off that debt before they can have their freedom. Since they literally brought me up I guess they figured it was a lifetime debt. Like, being vassal to the Ninth House was some kind of honour and I'd just grow up to be an obedient nun. But, lo! I didn't.

[She sparks Hilda a grin and winks, making light of what is turning out to be kind of a heavy conversation.]

[ There's a plethora of questions on Hilda's lips that she wants to ask for more clarification on like skeletons? Security cuff? But there's something else more important than all of these things, specifically Gideon's delivery of it all. The lightness of her tone, and her handling of such heavy subjects with such a carefree, jokey attitude is a quality Hilda thinks she recognizes thanks to the people closest to her.

(Is it really something to be thankful for being able to recognize? She isn't sure what that says about her or the company she keeps. Or is it both? Focus on the hot, buff girl in front of you, Hilda.)

She'd never go as far as to assume that there's some deep brooding sadness crawling beneath Gideon's skin because everyone handled the hardships they went through differently. Perhaps there's also a certain level of mental toughness coupled with the receptiveness of a story she must have told several times over now if she's been here as long as she has. Whatever the reason, Hilda knows someone trying to make light of less than fun topics for her sake when she sees it. And as appreciative as she is for Gideon's attempt at softening a small portion of her life's story for her, what Hilda appreciates more is Gideon being so willing to share it with her in the first place. ]

Well thank the gods for that. I'm guessing nuns don't really get to show off their biceps. [ Her eyes spark mischievously as she reaches out to brush her finger lightly against Gideon's exposed skin before having it return to her side. ] Which really, would be such a shame because yours are amazing.

[ The flirtatiousness dims as something more sincere takes it place. ]

I know I asked all these questions — and while I really appreciate you telling me about it all because it means I get to know you a little better — you don't have to pretend to be okay with it all just for little ol' me.

[It's right there on the tip of a tongue, her witty response poised and ready to go. She's planning something along the lines of I'd be wasted on being a nun, how the Empire would have mourned the smothering of such a gorgeous body! But then Hilda's fingertips ghost lightly over the swell of muscle in her arm, and the words catch in her throat. She's had some time to hone her flirtation skills since she arrived here, yet somehow there's always the stutter-start motion of her heart the moment a cute girl takes the initiative with her. Years spent trapped in the bowels of an obscure cult will do that to a girl. She feels the hot rush of blood to her face, and she quickly stuffs half a croissant into her mouth to give her a moment to recover.

She's still chewing as Hilda continues, and then she's taking a second blow-- just like with the flirting, she may be more accustomed now to eliciting empathy from people, but it often takes her by surprise regardless. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand - elegant! - and gathers herself to respond. Clears her throat.]

Don't sweat it. Like yeah, it fucking sucked. It's not the kind of life I'd wish on anyone, no matter how much of a nasty weirdo they might be. But it happened, and anyway, I'm here now. Eating a whole array of desserts while a cute girl compliments my biceps. What more could I ask for, really?

[ Hilda knows several nobles who would definitely agree that 'elegant'' is not the first word they'd use to describe Gideon shoving that croissant into her mouth, but then again who really cares what they think a whole world away? Is it cute though? Definitely. It's hard not to feel a little sense of accomplishment knowing that her flirting landed. Flirting comes as easily as breathing does to her, so it's nice to have it to distract herself with things that are not the pressing, suffocating thought of her death in some other timeline.

Far better to wonder if her flirting is going to be reciprocated or not. But thankfully, she doesn't have to wait long. A momentary look of surprise flits across her face before she's quickly biting back a pleased smile. ]

The fact that you can still extend that kind of kindness to a nasty weirdo says a lot about you, Gideon. So it's all the more reason that you get desserts, a cute girl complimenting your biceps, and more if you wanted.

[ Is that a hint, an invitation or just more flirting? Maybe all three. It's hard to say with Hilda. Whichever it is, it's Hilda saying that she's enjoying the time they've got together now. ]

[Heat rides high in Gideon's face, the tawny-brown of her cheeks tinged dark with it, and she vaguely wishes she was actually wearing the stupid fucking face paint for once. At least it would come in useful at a time like this.

She tries to keep her shit together this time though, no more stuffing her mouth with pastries to prevent something dumb from falling out. Instead she rolls one muscular shoulder in a loose-limbed shrug.]

I do like to think I'm not a total garbage person. Not all the way bad, just like, moderately good. Some of the time. You'd have to be a real shitbag to consign someone to a life in the Ninth House. If not being a total shitbag is gonna catch me some compliments and whatever more might entail then hey, I must be doing something right.

I'm not friends with totally garbage people.

[ As light and airy of a statement as it is, she feels quite confident in that statement. Although 'garbage' might be a strong word and hard to define when you're in the time of a war. Before arriving here, the only person she'd defined as someone who was no longer her friend was Edelgard and even then Hilda isn't certain that she's so much 'garbage' as she is just in the wrong. ]

Not everyone is always going to make good choices all the time, but what matters is that we try anyway, right? [ The macaroon on her plate lays forgotten but she idly picks it up, listlessly fiddling with it. ] Do you think you'd want to go home?

[ It feels a little silly to ask, but maybe there were people at home that Gideon cared for that she missed. ]

[It's a good question. A heavy question, and Gideon stares down at her plate for a moment as she thinks it through, brows pulling together in a way that makes her seem suddenly serious. She stabs at the chocolate cake with her fork, chews it in contemplation as it passes her lips. It tastes so fucking good. A whole universe away from the grim chore eating had been for most of her life. But--]

I dunno. It's complicated, I guess? Like...I don't wanna leave. I want to stay here. But I don't understand how this whole thing works, you know? And there's someone...my necromancer needs me. And she isn't here. She was, but--

[She lifts a hand then, spreads her fingers, mimes something disappearing into the air.]

I'd feel happier staying here if I understood shit better. How about you? Do you wanna go home?

[She’s interested to hear the answer, but asking also gives her some space from thinking (wondering, worrying) about Harrow.]

[ The motion to indicate disappearing takes a moment for her to register what she means. She tries to recall if there's anyone she knows of closely that has left, but apart from Felix, she draws a blank. It's a reality she realizes she has to accept being here. But just because it's a fact they have to accept doesn't make it easier or have it hurt any less for the ones left behind.

She reaches for Gideon's hand to give it a brief touch out of a sympathy for her lost someone. ]

I'm sorry. But if she was here once, there's a chance she could show up again, right?

[ At least they had that as a comfort.

As for Gideon's other question...Hilda often claims she forgets how long she's been here, but deep down she knows that every month away is time away from other people she cares for like her brother, like Marianne. Having the others here is great. She'd never trade this unexpected time away from them for all the dessert in the world, especially knowing what she knows now about Petra and Sylvain's supposed fates. And yet the prospect of home, of being with those she cares for still tugs at her heartstrings.

After another moment of thought she gives a bit of a shrug, but answers truthfully all the same. ]

I know what you mean. But I don't think I've been here long enough to say that I want to or not. We might be in a war back home which don't get me wrong, is awful, but it isn't as bad as it could be. But...[ Her voice trails off thinking about her friends. ] there's still people here I care about that I might never see again back home.

[There's something wholesome and pleasant and bone-deep good about having another person offering contact during moments of difficulty, or pain. It has her glancing up, a little surprised, but she's quick to curve Hilda a smile anyway. Needs to let her know that the gesture is appreciated.]

I guess we don't know what's gonna happen. It's sort of out of our hands. Like, people just vanish sometimes and no-one really knows why or when it'll happen. My necro could come back, or she might not. You might have to go back and leave your friends behind. Not knowing really sucks. But...at least we have right now?

[She leans in closer, nudging Hilda's shoulder with hers; an attempt at both comfort and understanding. What she has to return to, should she leave...it's complicated. There's nothing back there for her, and there's also one very important promise that she needs to keep. One flesh, one end. Now doesn't feel like a time to try and explain.]

You get to spend time with people who matter to you, and I get to spend time with banging babes while eating an array of desserts. All we can really do is buckle up and enjoy the ride, you know?

[ Had Gideon not bumped her shoulder, it's entirely possible that Hilda would have chased the white rabbit that had suddenly appeared in front of her further down the rabbit hole. Staying hadn't occurred to her until now; the minute she had been pulled from the waters gasping, the underlying thought had been that she needed to return home to Fodlan even if there was nothing she could do about it right now.

Ramifications of what would it mean if she built a life here had been the furthest thing from her mind, not just because it felt like too complex of an idea to comprehend, but because how much she longed for home might have been a fiercer desire than she had initially thought herself. The question Gideon had posed to her disturbed the otherwise calm waters. If she returned home did that mean she might meet a similar fate to the one Petra had described for her? The one where she didn't make it through the war? And if Gideon had been here as long as she had and decided she wanted to stay what did that mean for others in a similar position?

She's quick to return the gentle shoulder bump, tearing her mind away from the rabbit before she gave chase. ]

Who are you me? I used to tell my friends that all the time at home. [ Granted, there's no wars here (at least not pressing ones) where every day could be your last). ] You're right. There's no point in worrying about everything that's going to come because we're here.

[ A grateful, teasing grin flickers to her face. ]

But I can't believe you just implied that there are other babes! [ She glances towards the clock on the wall, suddenly realizing the time. ] All will be forgiven if you help me bring out some of the desserts into the tavern though. Are there any we should leave behind for us?

[Gideon laughs, realises she probably sounds ridiculously optimistic and not at all Ninth, but since when has she ever been the sort to give in to despair? Occasionally, maybe, but she always bounces back. The depth and breadth with which she misses Harrow is still a startling thing, but she has something here. Fleeting or long-term, she intends to fucking relish it.]

I mean, you've gotta admit that us Summoned are an unreasonably good-looking bunch. Almost like whatever powers brought us here are biased toward total hotties, which hey, I can't blame them for. All the same, you're definitely an eleven out of ten.

[She says it with a wink before stuffing one last sweet treat into her mouth. She stretches long and languid, cracking her neck like she's about to get on with a difficult task rather than carrying a few desserts.]

Luckily I am a pro at carrying stuff. Let's get to it...and maaaaybe keep just a couple of things back for us. Just in case.

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[ OPEN ] an informal event.

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~fin