abraxaslogs | [ OPEN ] i know some places and i've seen some faces

[ OPEN ] i know some places and i've seen some faces

WHO: sam wilson and anyone/everyone.
WHAT: captain america cookout.
WHERE: sam's horizon domain
WHEN: third saturday of september (aka, about 3 weeks after the jailbreak)
NOTES: see below!

HELLO ALL AND WELCOME TO SAM'S CAPTAIN AMERICA COOKOUT!!!!

Over the last week or so, Sam has been going out of his way to contact as many people as he knows to invite them to a cookout at his place in the Horizon. He knows that after the jailbreak, a lot of people were separated, and this was his first thought on how to bring people together. The purpose behind it is simply because Sam thinks that the one thing all of them have in common, opinion on the Singularity and their situations aside, is that they were all brought here and can actually access the Horizon. He sees merit and use in coming together when they can, especially in ways that don't involve the politics of the land they're now living in. So, what better way to do that than around food?

The long and short of it is - this is a peace meal. Leave your issues at the door. Sam has very few rules and there is very little he will give in terms of what this cookout will entail, but three things he will make very clear:

1.) There will be no fighting at his home. You want to duke it out? Take it somewhere else. There will not be warnings or second chances. Don't be an ass.
2.) There is no meeting or serious reason for this cookout. Literally, he just wants people to come together who may no longer be able to see each other due to the travel constraints. It's meant to be fun. Come have fun. (he knows y'all know what that is, even when some of you pretend you don't). Bring food if you want to! There is also a kitchen (if you know what that is) and places to crash. Hope you like seafood!
3.) Anyone who can come into the Horizon is welcome. He'd love it if everyone came, so spread the word.

The cookout itself is set up out front, with picnic tables and chairs and fire pits and lights abound. There are tables set up near grilles if anyone wants to do any actual cooking outside, and a table (probably multiple) set up with sides and napkins and utensils. There are a variety of different places to go and sit and hang out while you're eating. Anything and everything you can want is available - food, drinks, yard games, music playing from out in the trees that will remain consistent unless someone tries to find the speakers and hijack the playlists, etc. If you can't find something outside, you're more than welcome to check the house.

All throughout the party, too, there will be a new friend. Red, as Sam fondly calls him, is a blood-red hunting hawk with silver in between the feathers. He can be found circling around Sam quite often, or perched on his shoulders, but also if you are out and about you can often see him checking up on anyone and everyone. He's a very curious little bird, and also pretty sassy, if you want to interact with him.

If you haven't, or have, been to Sam's domain before, feel free to take a look around. Anywhere is open (save for one locked bedroom) so everyone has open access, but most of the cookout itself will be located in the front yard.

OOC: This is mean to be an OPEN LOG, so leave your TLs or closed threads below! This party will last basically as long as people want it to, but the idea is for it to be an afternoon into the evening. Y'all have free reign save for destroying Sam's home, but if you have any questions, hit me up on plurk (disarmingly or disco (dai#3757). Sam's TL is below, and he will be bouncing around like the good host he is, but lets get a little party started.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

ARRIVAL

Hey!

[ he sees you come to the edge of the drive and appear into the large open area of the front yard. this is probably, in a reality that sam has been pulled from, been where cars would park. maybe there might have been storage, or even a boat pulled up in the open yard. but for now, it's transformed - lights, grilles, tables, chairs, fire pits, coolers - it's a modern American cookout, y'all. except without the limitation of needing to buy or have any of this shit. sam just dreams it up and decorates to his heart's content, and if he's gone a little out there, well. he's allowed, isn't he?

either way, he is going to drop what he's doing and run up to meet you and either take whatever you're holding off your hands and lead you inside, come in for a hug, or just make those introductions (if he hasn't met you before). there will be a greeting, and it will be warm, and once that initial greeting is out of the way he will turn to lead you inside. ]

Thanks for coming, by the way. How are things?

THE PARTY

[ once things get going, sam will not be able to sit still. between the grilles and the food and restocking, to conversations had with people he hasn't seen in weeks, to conversations with new people he hasn't met yet, and anything in between - he will bring the energy, he will bring the jokes, and he will - without a doubt - make his way around to just about everyone he can. whether its to hand off some food, to bring a beer, to simply check in... sam is not a passive host. it's going to get to a point where it's going to be exhausting just to look at him.

for now, though, he is doing alright. he's got a beer in his hand (though it's probably empty, he keeps meaning to go stop by the cooler) and a smile on his face and will absolutely talk to whoever wants to come up and say something. or he can take over grilling. or he can check up to make sure you have everything you need while you are grilling. or he can totally beat your butt at one of the various yard games. either way, he is here, he is having a good time, and he's going to be doing his best to make sure everyone else is too. ]

THE HOUSE

[ it could be before the party actually starts, or sometime during the heart of it. whatever the reason, sam has decided to run inside because he either couldn't find someone to send or just found it simpler to go retrieve the item himself. he pushes through the screen doors and lets it slam closed behind him, talking to himself as if he's trying to remember a list of items he's come in to get. you may have followed him inside, or maybe you're already inside when he notices you're standing there, but either, way sam will grin and wave.

if it's later in the day, he probably said hi to you when you walked in, but he's been buzzing around pretty nonstop and has been hard to pin down. and whether or not the two of you have met, he's smile will be just as warm, his wave just as inviting. ]

Hey- you got a sec? I'm trying to find... [ he turns, and then pauses. because suddenly, he's just. totally gone blank. you can probably see the stages of grief cross his features before he finally gives up, letting out a sigh and turning back to face you. ] Nevermind. It's gone.

[ it happens. just gotta keep moving. ] What's up with you? Can I help with anything?

WILDCARD

[ if there isn't anything here to your fancy, just hit me up with pretty much anything! ITS A PARTY AND SAM IS HERE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME. ]

Edited 2021-09-17 23:23 (UTC)

[ Before leaving the castle, Julie had, unfortunately, not had the chance to meet many of the other people. When your options are limited to only other prisoners and weirdos who want to explore a dungeon, well, it's a pretty finite number of people you're going to encounter, and most of them will not be particularly good company. She had longed to be able to go upstairs and mingle with everyone else, but that never quite panned out. She's free now, though, and word of a potluck had spread quickly.

It's late afternoon, golden hour, before she rolls in. This is not due to any real effort at being fashionably late; it's more just the habit of someone whose last occupation could be charitably described as "professional partier". She'd woken up in the real world, then rolled over and gone to the Horizon. In her domain, her nightclub (only hers, where she was always belle of the ball), she'd manifested different clothes for herself; the slinky gold dress became a red sequined halter top, shaped like a butterfly and tied 'round her back. Jean shorts so small they could only barely be considered more than underwear. Leopard spotted ankle boots. Heart-shaped sunglasses in cherry red.

And bags. She needed bags.

When she leaves her club and appears at Sam's home, she's got Louis Vuitton duffels (she'd always wanted real Louis Vuitton, used to tear pages out of glossy fashion magazines and affix them to vision boards), three of them. One in each hand, and one slung across her chest to bump on her hip as she walks. They clink loudly with her steps, and when she clunks them all down unceremoniously on a picnic table, it becomes obvious why.

Julie has brought a veritable bar with her.

Two of the bags contain what seem to be endless glass bottles. Vodka and tequila and whiskey and rum, and even a rogue bottle of sake. She lines them all up on the table, then takes off the third bag and opens it up to reveal all the necessary ingredients for jungle juice, including both a punch bowl and an enormous bottle of grain alcohol.

(Buried in the internal pockets are bags of various recreational drugs. Hit a sister up if you need a buzz.)

With total aplomb, she quickly fills the bowl, then decides she's done her part. You can find her floating around, downing a truly startling amount of alcohol for someone who's so small.

Come nightfall, she's curled in a chair next to a firepit, her feet bare and her smile big. This is the closest she's felt to home since it got wiped off the map. ]

[Estinien has always hated parties, as a rule. Back when he was the Azure Dragoon, a soldier of such renown that he was expected to attend certain noble soirees, he rejected so many invitations that the city at large stopped even bothering to ask for his presence. He's here for entirely tactical reactions, despite the fact that he finds himself resenting the entire exercise.

Back in Ishgard, what those grand balls and social demonstrations seemed to represent was a class entirely willing to look the other way when it suited them. While some may see wartime celebrations as a necessary break from the grimness of reality, Estinien has only ever seen them as an ignorant distraction for the privileged, happy to overlook whatever plights are not their own. This sticks out all the more glaringly, now that Estinien is pretty sure he's once again been called to war.

The trouble is that no one else seems to see it that way. The actions of this 'Sam', the host of this event, are particularly beyond him. Inviting everyone with the expectation that they leave their 'politics' behind, as if such a thing would ever be possible. While he does get a greeting along with the rest of his group, he remains silent as Sam leads them in, narrowing his eyes as if skeptical about the entire proceeding. He doesn't really start having fun once he's there, either.

Instead, it's in the early to mid-phase of the party itself that Sam makes his way into Estinien's gloomy radius again, and this time he doesn't have to worry about making a mess for the comrades he followed here. Whatever Sam happens to say to him as he passes by, Estinien finally lets loose the bitter words he's been holding in his throat since he got here.]

I suppose it must be easy to ignore your guest's allegiances, when your life was never the one on the chopping block.

[It most likely comes completely out of nowhere, despite his withdrawn demeanor. He's been holding back from experiencing things, largely observing, and while there is no sign of violence in his posture, the knot of spite in his gut is obvious.]

[ the truth is, sam and julie probably ran into each other a couple of times over the course of the party. he would have seen her when she walked in and set up her open bar, would have probably come by for a drink at some point. but the truth of it is that they probably haven't actually sat down and talked yet - for a variety of reasons, maybe.

all that means, though, is that it's nightfall by the time sam is able to come find her. her smile is infectious when he finally does, and as he walks up next to the chair she's curled up in, he offers her whatever baked good he'd picked up off the table on the way over. he's grinning, too, and settles into the chair next to her, getting comfortable around the fire. ]

That punch of yours was a hit, apparently.

[ it's said with both some chiding - he's already said his piece about kids getting alcohol and how everyone needs to keep themselves together. he's been a spoilsport too much, already. it's late. he can calm down. which also means that maybe his tone suggests he's had a little bit of it, himself. like he may just appreciate the fact she showed up with the exact kind of energy he had wanted to bring.

he takes a long drink from his bottle, settling back in his chair and giving the kind of exhale that makes it obvious that he thinks the party went off well enough. that he's pleased with the results. ]

You get enough to eat?

[ there is a lot of what estinien is thinking that sam would probably agree with, if it came down to it. because when in that position, yes - wartime parties for the rich? is a waste of money and a way of distraction. people looking the other ways during the worst of a war is something sam has dealt with, he gets it, but that's also not how he's seeing this.

but that is part of what this gathering is about, isn't it? sam had made a very specific choice in inviting everyone. he'd been there, when estinien had attacked ambrose. he'd seen the others, who had chosen to stand up in the way of it. he knew going into this, especially with his very specific instructions against inner-party-fighting meant that those individuals would probably know he was talking about them. he had been prepared, going in, to have this conversation. because the truth of it is? they're not wrong. everyone has ended up in a different place where it concerns the singularity, and ambrose, and what is most definitely an impending war. and he knows not everyone is going to appreciate his attempts at making peace, at least amongst those brought through the well, but sam had gone through with this anyway.

which is why, as sam is walking by mid-bite of what is probably a burger or a hot dog, saying something about food is ready or more just got off the grille, he just catches estinein's comment. hears the bitterness and the built up frustration in it. there is a very small part of him that says just keep walking, don't engage, but the larger, louder part knows better. knows that this had been something that was coming, either now or later, and that sam needs to buck up and handle this conversation instead of trying to run away from it. so as he comes to a stop, putting whatever had been that partial-bite he'd been taking back on his plate, he meets eyes with estinein. takes a second to simply check - possibly for that violence, possibly for the depth of emotion and anger, possibly for something else - before nodding as if to himself and turning to find either a trash can or a table to set down his plate. it only takes a second, and once his food is taken care of, sam wipes his hands on a napkin and walks the rest of the way over to where estinein had been standing.

his demeanor is calm, serious but not tense. he looks a bit like he's slipping into a suit he knows well, even if all he's doing is walking, and when sam finally makes it to where he needs to be he comes to an easy stop. ]

You know- you're right. [ said simply, honestly. sam's hands slide into the pockets of his jeans as he continues. he's not hiding from any of this, doesn't look uncomfortable under the words either. if anything, he looks like he's settling. like he is preparing for estinein to be angry, if he chooses to be. like he would have every right to be, if he chose to. ] I didn't have to stay in the dungeons, and I wasn't ever really scared of getting executed while we were in the castle. But I'm not trying to ignore anyone's allegiances by asking people to come to a cookout, either.

[ sam lets out a breath, then, shaking his head. ] I get that you're angry, and you have every right to be. But I really hope you're not assuming I'm taking Ambrose's side by asking people not to turn my house into a warzone.

[Estinien simply observes Sam as he pauses and then makes his way over, his arms crossed and his back leaning against the nearest available surface. He's being acknowledged, at least, which is a relief after recent conversations he's had. He even finds Sam's demeanor somehow familiar - a look he's seen many times in a dear friend of his. Someone who knows that they need to compromise and face criticism, who is prepared to face bitter detractors if he has to.

His gut turns, a sudden sadness tugging at his heart. He wonders what Aymeric would say about all of this. He wonders if he would agree with him. He feels like he would, like he'd understand Estinien the way he always had, no matter how angry or sullen he became. But he doesn't actually know and there's no one to tell him. Himeka is too much like him, in the end, to offer that perspective. In that sense, he's alone.

Yet, those pangs of nostalgia can't truly blind him from the issue. He's never been one to hold back from speaking what he considers to be truth, no matter how inconvenient.]

I would ask what side you are you taking, then? [It's a genuine question, even if he's already bracing for the answer he expects.] All that this display communicates is that you consider those needlessly persecuted and those who would uphold that persecution as one and the same. Simply different 'agendas' that you nobly take no part in.

You are not exonerated by your ambivalence. To welcome those that would support Ambrose as friends is to declare Thorne's policies as acceptable. Need I remind you that includes the coldblooded murder of kidnapped children?

[While even Relena hasn't seemed to take it nearly so harshly, he will not soon forget the Queen's lack of remorse for risking the life of a young prisoner who had never so much as raised a hand against her kingdom.]

[Coraline hadn't necessarily wanted to come, but Jon had made rather a point of mentioning it to her, and she knows he likes Sam. She still hasn't made up her mind on the man - largely he just seemed like a nosy busybody. But she still respects Jonathan enough to make a point to come to the party: even if she makes a point, as soon as she arrives in Horizon for it, to turn on her Glamour and appear totally human for it, even toning down her punk outfit for something a bit more casual, with no sign of the Tower on it at all.

When she does arrive, rather pointedly without any of the usual company she keeps in the real world, she really does just look like a regular cranky teen who doesn't want to be here. But her hazel eyes are sharp, watching the other prisoners, Welcomed and whatever the hell they all are now with an intense, bordering uncomfortable laser focus.]

II.

[She does duck into Sam's house - but only briefly, so she can take advantage of an upstairs window to climb out onto the roof of the porch, sitting perched with one leg hanging over the edge like a particularly pubescent gargoyle. It very quickly becomes her favourite sitting spot to watch the people beneath her, while latecomers roll in and the particularly antisocial leave.]

III.

[Coraline has spotted the alcohol.

Please try and stop the small teen (who is remarkably stealthy) from drinking the alcohol.]

.

IV.

[And when she's done with all the being social, and gives up on actively giving a shit about anyone else, she retreats to one of the trees, and climbs it with a frankly shocking turn of speed - even if it's not her domain, it's like the tree itself seems to want her to climb it, and she's very quickly nestled in its branches, nearly completely invisible if you didn't know she was already up there; and even then, trying to spot her is like spotting a face in the clouds.

Right up until she gets sick of the music. And then suddenly there's a speaker rocketing out of a tree to crash into the ground with a loud crackle of feedback.]

[ they're not incorrect questions to be asking. whether or not sam wanted to be bombarded with them in the middle of an attempt to bring people together didn't really matter. he knows enough about estinein, whether or not they've actually sat down and officially met, to know that this would be on his mind. that this conversation would happen, and that estinein does, truthfully, deserve some kind of explanation. ]

And what are you going to do if you don't like my answer? [ it's a genuine question in return. because the truth of it is? sam doesn't like ambrose. doesn't agree with how he's doing things. but he equally doesn't agree with attacking people with enough force to kill them when they're frozen and unable to fight back. knowing that estinein is the type of person to do that, no matter how right he might be in his motivations, has definitely given sam a very specific image of the one who stands in front of him.

none of this is black and white, though, and sam knows that. which is why he is holding back judgement. ] Because I'm not taking a side, at least not yet. If that has to change I'm happy to let you know, but right now? I'm pretty sure most of us are just trying to figure out what the hell is even going on. [ because that's the truth of where sam stands right now - he doesn't even know if he trusts what ambrose has said about the singularity. the prime minister either. without an active war, he's not seeing sides to be taking. not yet, at least. ]

And just to be clear- I don't like anything about what Ambrose has done or is doing, or anything that Thorne is doing either, at all. But honestly? I'm not a huge fan that you think those of us who were actually trying to get people out of the dungeon the entire time we've been here as upholding persecution.

[ there's a part of sam who wishes he could say things like and don't talk to be about needless persecution, but he recognizes the second before he says anything that estinein doesn't have the background to understand that, and that sam doesn't really have the place to assume estinein's experience is anything similar to what sam has at home, so. he holds that one back. ]

I don't want to be exonerated by anything. What I do are my own choices, just as yours are yours. But do need I remind you that all of us were brought here against our wills? And how, at the moment, Ambrose is the only person who knows how to send us back? I don't like the guy, and I definitely don't approve of his methods, but knowing he's the only way back doesn't make people wanting to stick close to him a bad idea. And that doesn't really give you the right to judge the people who think that maybe outright opposition to the guy isn't the fastest way home, either.

[ sam specifically exhales, then, pushing that stress out with the breath too. he isn't angry with estinein, and any of his growing frustration isn't at all directed to him, so sam takes a moment to recenter himself. ]

I'm not asking you to agree with them. I honestly don't know what they were thinking by wanting to stick around. Maybe they do agree with him, which would be fucked. But what I meant by this gathering was getting all of us, who are technically in the same boat here together, to have a chance to reconnect. What you do, and what they do, are y'alls own business, but our best bet has been and will continue to be sticking together, if we have any chance of getting out of this place.

[ there is a single pause here, where sam's eyes get hard. ]

And I do not support murder. [ and that look from sam? is directed at estinein this time. potentially referring to estinein's whole platform situation. ] In case that wasn't obvious.

[ Lurking is probably an accurate description for what Geralt's been doing throughout this entire thing. He's given his word he'll be here til folk have left, so he's stayed after the sun's set and night's fallen—but how much he's actually been participating in the gathering itself is questionable.

Beyond drinking. He hasn't any idea what went into the bowl sat on the table: it smells far too sweet for his tastes and is a suspicious, violent shade of orange. He might've been spotted sniffing at it earlier. The clear bottles, though—that he does recognize. It's been hours, he has too much shit on his mind, and it isn't as though any of these offerings are real. He doesn't hesitate to grab an entire vodka bottle off the table and all of what's left inside it. Little less than half. Good enough.

The firepit's emptier, now that some have left. Flash of pink hair is difficult to miss. Actually, all of Julie is difficult to miss, between the armful of liquor she walked in with and the shimmering red fabric she's wrapped around her torso. Is he after a conversation? Not exactly. Easy company, perhaps. Uncomplicated company. Both of which he's gathered she can be, from how little she seems to give a fuck about beyond what indulgences life has to grant her.

He takes a seat next to her, swinging his leg over the stump by the crackling fire. Aside from shedding dungeon clothes, there's no noticeable difference with how he appears. Maybe if she squints, his hair is shade tidier. ] Freedom looks good at you.

[There's a lot being said here, and Estinien is content to let Sam speak his piece without interruption. After all, he isn't expecting to change Sam's mind. That's not what he's good at, and not what he's here for. He's asking purely because he wants to know where they stand, and maybe to make Sam aware of how this looks, if he truly wasn't aware. What Sam sees as an act of peace feels like an act of war against Estinien's need for justice.

Yet, it can't be said that Sam is wrong - Estinien is the sort of attack a hated enemy when they're helpless, and also the sort to kill those he considers aggressors with little provocation. Ambrose is a threat he can only see becoming worse with time, and if he could snuff out that power before more were harmed, he would consider it an uncomplicated victory.

Especially because he knows something that apparently Sam does not.]

No one knows how to send us back. Not Ambrose, not his King and Queen, and not his gaggle of mages. Ambrose's own sister told me as much. For the known history of Abraxas, they have never successfully sent someone from this realm to another.

[He scoffs.]

So am I to spare this beast based on knowledge he doesn't have, but may theoretically, by unlikely chance, develop in the future? I think not.

[As for the idea that murder is just bad in a universal sense, that nothing would justify executing Ambrose, he won't even consider it. He's seen the necessity for such actions time and time again - even at Himeka's hand, whom he considers much more understanding than he is.]

i. arrival;
#[ Abigail just sort of wanders in to the party going on, having strayed further and further from the centre of her own domain as she grew in confidence accessing it. When she sees the people gathered and smells the meat on the grill, she shrinks back a little, not wanting to intrude. Still, she can't bring herself to leave, thinking this is the most normal thing she's come across ever since she was shoved in jail in Thorne - and for that reason it feels all the more surreal. She hangs back and just watches everyone enjoying themselves, waiting either for an invite to join them or to be told to move along. ]

ii. party;
[ Her plate piled up with meat, she approaches an empty space at one of the picnic benches and offers a polite but tentative smile at whoever happens to be sat nearby. In her other hand she's grasping a bottle of beer, and whether or not that's a good idea remains to be seen. ]

Sorry, but is anyone sitting here?

iii. inside;
[ She loves being outside - smelling the smoke and the trees and the night air, it's almost easy to imagine herself back in a more innocent time. But eventually she needs to stretch her legs and heads inside, peering around the kitchen door. ]

Need any help?

iv. wildcard;
[ Hit me up with anything, or poke me and I'd be happy to put up a different starter for you! ]

Nadine doesn't know the host personally, but word gets around. A small cynical part of her thinks it's a little ridiculous, a magic barbecue party in dream-space, but it's smart to keep up with people. To know what's going on elsewhere, to learn more about the world at large and how they fit into it.

Besides, there are people she wants to see and she could use a break from drama and feeling like a frustrated den mother. If she doesn't enjoy herself, she can just leave.

Honestly, it's familiar. Nadine's been to dozens of waterside barbecues over her life. It hits her a little hard at first, the unexpected sense of home. She's even dressed to fit the scene in a white sleeveless blouse and skinny jeans and white sneakers, the official uniform of thirty something year old women for New Hampshire summers.

But after a few minutes she shakes the almost haunting feeling Sam's domain calls up in her. This is a party, after all. She's here to have a good time, she's going to have a good time.

She explores the grounds for a bit, spending some time by the water. It's a pretty place. Relaxing. She skips a few stones and walks the length of the dock, ignoring for a time the greater reality of where she is.

Eventually she makes her way to the front, where the food and the yard games are. She makes herself a plate, shaking her head a bit at the absurdity of eating in a place that doesn't even technically exist, and settles in to quietly watch the festivities.

[It is easier for Alucard to enter the Horizon at night. He has chosen not to dwell on the reason why (he knows it isn't vampire nonsense), only take advantage of what it allows. He travels outside of his domain rarely, choosing instead to curl up in his depression hut in a pile of soft furs, a singular fire, and a terribly advanced kitchen for 1400s Wallachia.

He's not there tonight. Tonight he is slipping into Sam's domain to leave something and then withdraw. There's no interest in the actual party or anything of the sort, but the dhampir is well aware that Sam's work in the tunnel deserves some kind of recognition. The part of Alucard that was still raised right, that understands the need to be polite about these things, wants to acknowledge and thank him for it.

Which is why he's in the house now, dressed in a dark grey tunic and a black coat with embellishments, the veritable goth teenager at the family gathering. His eyes glance around the kitchen, most of it familiar. Electric lighting. A stove. The dishwasher is a total novelty, but it is nice to know that humanity gets to develop what he grew up with.

Alucard is in the process of placing a small bundle wrapped in a simple linen cloth (plăcintă cu brânză, a sheep's cheese pie, good at any time of day but with jam, an excellent dessert) with a small note pinned to it on the table when Sam walks in.

His response is immediate but measured. If nothing else, Alucard is on a far more even keel than the last time they saw each other.]

No, thank you.

[ Where there is food, Himeka will follow. It is strangely fitting that she began her own great adventure some years prior in search of the most delectable of sandwiches that now she would one again travel into this separate reality for a bite to eat. She has her own questions of why people chose to go where they went or if they decided to stay, but much to Sam's own thoughts on the matter, she believes food is always a worthwhile reason to come together.

That's why she situations herself rather feely in the kitchen as soon as it's made clear that it is available.

It maybe silly, of course, that in a world where one can create anything from nothing as long as they can imagine it, but to Himeka that doesn't mean that everything should be a shortcut. She could have given herself wings to travel, a mount to carry her forth, but she is ever someone who enjoys the journey as much if not more than the destination.

That absolutely translates to cooking as well. This is why she dons an apron and sets herself up to prepare a meal or ten with what she has brought. She may be the Warrior of Light and a myriad of other titles collected over the years, but she is a Culinarian first and foremost.

She is always looking for a sous chef, whether willing or not. So if someone happens to wander in unattended, she looks up from her work on the counter and smiles. ]

Well you look like you have nothing better to do. Here, I have about two dozen eggs that need to be cracked!

[ And waves one in the air.

Then again, if someone has brought their own food to be prepared she is more than willing to help out as well. Eager, even! ]

Oooh, what is that you've got there?

[ Of course, if you're just hungry and want a snack, she has plenty to share. ]

Let me know what you think!

[ What the fuck is all this? He runs his hands along the counters; he takes in the sight of the inside of the house. Its modern appearance really baffles him. His own attire isn't meant for a cookout, unfortunately; his long jacket hangs open and leather pants fitting comfortably familiar. Is he wearing a shirt underneath it? Nah. Why should he?

But still, he calls out to the host with a concerned voice: ]

Looking a little lost there, chief.

[ Nero lacks the social graces not to immediately question why the man appears to be so distraught. He wonders if the host is finally understanding how pointless it is for all of them to have a nice get-together. It didn't matter if they were all in the same situation; it didn't matter if they all suffered the same; none of that mattered because people would come up with their own reasons to kill each other.

A person doesn't have to be crazy to want to kill, they just have to think that they're right. The elf turns his head to bark out a single laugh. As soon as a person can justify their reasons, it's fucking over!

But he digresses! ]

What's the matter? The sandcastle not coming out as well as you'd like it to?

What's up, kid?

[ It may be simply due to his true sight -- or maybe, it is his skills as an archer -- that he is able to grab the back of her shirt before she gets too close. ]

What's the matter? Want to get drunk? Party that boring for you?

[ Nero lets go of her clothes; he cocks his head as he looks her over. The expression that he gives is one that says he'd be willing to give her one of the aforementioned bottles but just wants to hear why she wants it so bad. ]

[Coraline can't help the small squeak of surprise when she's nearly yanked off her feet, but she recovers hastily and instead turns to level an even, cold stare at--

oh it's that damn psycho elf. Fuck. She's not sure if him giving off that telltale Desire glamour, that nosy curiosity is good or not, but she tilts her chin up and folds her arms with a sly little half-smile.]

What does it matter to you? You think I'm gonna listen to you telling me I can't take a drink if I want?

[ She hadn't been here long before, but Relena feels some comfort wash over her walking up to the house. She'd meant to come here eventually - to see if Sam was here - and it seems like she picked a good day to do it. She'd heard through a few other people that Sam was holding a get together today and that food was suggested. She'd glad this world allows her to create things by thought and not her hands. The cook sometimes showed her how to make things, but for the most part she's clueless. It's another weakness she wants to overcome.

She carries a tray of smørrebrød in her hands. A good outdoor food, she thinks, and easy to pick up and eat. The look of the place is much more comfortable than any event she'd gone to with the rich people she'd been raised among. No awkwardness comes over her as she approaches and as Sam comes towards her. ]

Sam! It's good to see you.

It would be funny if you did, wouldn't it?

[ Nero turns his head as he starts spitting out his laughter. It would be funny if anyone acquired any good lessons from him. ]

I'm just curious. Because ... nothing here means anything.

[ His expression becomes clouded as he looks around at the scenery around them. He has no love for the Horizon. To him, it is just a playground while the real world is still spinning and waiting for them. Even if there is infinite power here, so what? ]

So, what do you think that you're doing?

[The fabric in Nero's hand is suddenly as slippery as oil, and Coraline twists sharply away and out of his grip, taking a few steps sideways so she can straighten up her collar all casual-like. One eyebrow is arched and her tone remains haughty when she looks back at Nero.]

I think I'm gonna try something in a place where there's no consequences and see how I like it.

[ Nero pulls his hand back as he also jerks backwards. He makes a disgusted sound as his face morphs into an expression of disgust. ]

Yurk! [ The noise resonates as he wipes his hand on the back of his jacket. ] Gross!

[ He shoots her a dirty look; he keeps wiping his hand on his clothes. ] Fair enough. You should go for it. [ His tongue slips out of his mouth as he keeps mumbling, "gross, gross." ] It's more the feeling, you know? It's like feeling a huge wad of --

[ Nero closes his mouth as he looks away, not finishing his sentence. ]

[Martin is very much not a party kind of person. These sorts of social gatherings were more okay but there's still just so many people, and that brings the nervous wreck in him to the surface. He affirms to himself that he's only going to stay for a short while - maybe grab a bite and see Jon again before he goes back to his own domain to keep working - before he approaches Sam working the grill with a warm smile.]

Hullo, Sam. Um, I-I just wanted to say-- thanks, you know? For helping Jon before, a-and me.

[Martin is absolutely unattended. He'd been ducking inside to escape after spotting Nero harass Coraline (he's heard enough about her from Jon that he thinks she can hold her own there) and just happened on the kitchen - where Himeka's demand makes him start, a little.]

O-oh! I, um. I suppose not?

[But his tone is bemused, more than anything else, and he still gives her a brief smile as he spots a bowl to pull closer before he mans the eggs quite readily.]

You've not got a very helpful companion for this, I'm afraid, most of what I do is ready-made meals.

[ This is the first truly nice thing Relena's been to in a long time. Before even arriving here, life had been stressful and busy. She'd constantly been on the move and had been mostly on her own on a social level. There's a difference between being at a friendly social event and being trapped in conversations about infrastructure reform in one of the older space colonies.

She doesn't know what to do with herself at something like this, but she likes it even though she's quiet if left to her own devices here.

The last time she was here, she was helping to tend the yard, so she can be spotted checking over the flowers near the front porch, seeing how they're doing. She wants to come back more often, when things are rough, and help make the yard even nicer.

Otherwise, she'll be about, picking at anything sweet that was brought after being largely deprived of anything indulgent since she arrived and sitting by the fire when it starts to get darker. It's not often she lets herself relax, but she's forcing herself to this time, so she'll be happy to talk to others for once, whether it be friendly banter or sharing what she'd learned from her experience with the Queen, Grigory and Oliver. ]

Hey, there, princess.

[ Nero alerts her to his arrival first before he plops himself down next to her. He crosses his absurdly long legs before tipping his head up to stare at the sky above. The elf blinks -- not recognizing the constellations above, but he hasn't recognized any since he has come to this world.

A hum follows before he starts in: ]

Can I finally ask you about what happened? With the Queen and all that nonsense?

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[ OPEN ] i know some places and i've seen some faces

sam wilson { open

Julie Lawry | open | The Wheel of Fortune

THE PARTY

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Coraline Finch | Tower | OTA

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Abigail Hobbs | The Hanged Man | ota

Nadine | Open | The World

The House

Himeka Sui | The Fool | OTA

the house;

iii;

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Arrival

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The Party

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Relena Peacecraft | Gundam Wing | Death

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