MISSION: THE SUN NEVER SETS ON AMARYLLIS GROVE

[ximilian]

● ● ● M I S S I O N   1 7 . 1

UNIT-Y • PLEASANTVILLE • AFTER DARK • FYI

// INTRO. UNIT-Y  

Over the course of the station’s downtime, even the least astute observer will notice the sudden influx of crewmates aboard the station. Before you can further inquire and investigate this anomaly in your usual routine, your earpiece will ping! with the familiar sound of a newly received mission file. Viveca’s voice immediately follows.

// VIVECA

“Hi everyone, you’ll find details for your next mission are ready. This time the orb has been located somewhere in a town called Amaryllis Grove, and based on my research, the best way to start looking for it will involve blending in with the towns-folk who live there. Just like our last mission, those of you who don’t have natural humanoid forms will have Degar’s potion available for you to help with that. See you on the platform tomorrow morning.”

After reviewing your mission file and gathering all of the necessary supplies and clothing options, those who are well prepared might have enough time for a decent night’s sleep. If you aren’t the sort to sleep before a mission, well … carry on.

When morning arrives, you’ll make your way to the teleportation platform to join your fellow crewmates. Viveca and Degar are already standing by, the latter passing around the aforementioned potion to those who will be needing one. Finally, when the entire crew has assembled, Degar starts to speak.

// DEGAR

“You might have noticed by now that there’s a few more of us than usual – there’s a reason for that, and it’s good news! I think. You see, according to our readings of all the orb shards collected so far, we’re actually coming up to the last couple of orbs. That’s pretty amazing, isn’t it? For that, we’ve been getting a few more crew members to provide a little more support as we near the finish line. But we can talk more about that after you guys get this orb back here.”

Viveca nods from her place.

// VIVECA

“Good luck, everyone. I know some of you will have questions, and we’ll be here when you get back to try our best to answer them.”

Degar lifts both hands to give them all a cheesy little thumbs up. Without further ado, the hum of the platform, as it begins to power up, grows louder and louder until it’s impossible to hear anything else but the machinery thrumming in your ears. Soon enough, you’ll feel the familiar tug at the pit of your stomach as you’re whisked away from the station and towards your destination. But for a moment that feels both too short and too long, you hear it: whispers, echoes, voices that speak to you in several tenors at once, all of them providing you with a goal in exchange for their help.

Before you have a chance to answer, your surroundings begin to paint a clearer picture. You’ll be found in your usual place of choosing: whether that’s your own household, the park, or one of the several locations in and around town.

Welcome, Orbers, to Amaryllis Grove.

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// PART I.PLEASANTVILLE  

On the day of the Orbers’ arrival, the weather is crisp and sunny, the trees still lush and green with only the barest hints of the leaves beginning to yellow and redden at their tips. As the summer months slowly transition into cooler autumn temperatures, the entire town feels pleasant, even cozy. The clouds in the sky provide gentle overcast conditions and you might think to grab a light coat, or wear a longer sleeve but it is by no means chilly enough to feel anything but pleasant.

Depending on where you decided to arrive, you’ll want to begin your explorations and familiarize yourself with the Grove, which will be your home for the next little while.

1.0   The town of Amaryllis Grove will feel spacious and sprawling while also being cozy and compact. Cleanly paved streets wind in and around residential pockets and cul-de-sacs, threading through the community’s amenities, goods, and service buildings. The community centre, the library, the government offices, and the Mayor’s office can all be found in the main core of the Grove. The police station and television station (playing news and sitcoms in classic black and white) are situated nearby, and are all within walking distance of each other, and the neighbouring retail streets are located just past the block. This includes clothing boutiques, restaurants, coffee shops, grocery and general stores (which will sell all manner of hardware, cleaning supplies, and simple, household magical items). Having a vehicle will certainly help to get around town if you’re in a hurry running any errands, but a bicycle works just as well, and the walkability is pleasant for those wanting to take a stroll.

Everyone here is well-dressed in crisply ironed slacks and button-downs in neutrals, or colourful A-line skirts and dresses with delicate detailing for their tops. Children and teenagers are likewise found in school uniform consisting of dark blue pleated skirts or slacks, and white shirts. With the weather beginning to cool, a well structured jacket may also be a part of the ensemble.

2.0   Once you’ve explored some of the town, familiarizing yourself with the backstory and family history you and your fellow crewmates have corroborated together, perhaps you’ll want to explore your house. Lined up in rows of pleasant, homogeneous pitched roof structures, each house in the neighbourhood will come equipped with all of the necessary spaces to live a perfectly suburban life, the most ideal environment to raise a family and grow old amongst generations of familiar faces. Each one-storey house, in either brick or ship-lap siding and in various colours, will have 3-4 bedrooms, an attached garage for the family car, a living room, bathroom, spacious kitchen, and enough yard space to require both a lawn-cutter and a green thumb for the garden. Interiors have already been furnished with all of the up-to-date items for the time, resembling Earth’s 1950s era to an almost eerily accurate degree.

Say hello to your neighbour when they greet you or wish you a pleasant day. Many will look perfectly human, while others may seem more alien with vibrant skin, an extra limb, antennae, gills, and the like. Some also possess magical abilities which is not seen as strange or abnormal here; however, the magic used in Amaryllis Grove consists of simple household magic to aid with cooking, cleaning, and keeping the house perfectly pleasant – otherwise known as ‘petty magic’. Whether you’re used to such sights will likely depend on where you’re originally from, but no matter who lives next to or near you, they seem friendly enough. They may even invite you over for dinner, or inquire when you plan on hosting your next party.

You’ll cook, clean, sleep, and host parties and dinners with your neighbours of Amaryllis Grove within the walls of your quaint abode so it’s best to get to know the space that will undoubtedly become second nature to you.

3.0   While the concept of ‘Halloween’ does not exist in Amaryllis Grove, other such Autumn festivities are highly anticipated, namely the annual gathering of the harvest. It is otherwise colloquially named ‘the Harvest’. It won’t come as news to any of the residents, as the season ends and food is plenty, the Harvest has been a long-standing tradition to celebrate the closeness of the community, and to express one’s gratitude for the people that you surround yourself around.

Your neighbours may inquire whether you’ll be bringing the same mash potatoes as last year, or perhaps the spiced meatballs that the Alkherns simply couldn’t get enough of — they were just so delicious! Either way, you may want to start coming up with a special dish to bring to the community gathering or find someone to snag a recipe from, as it’ll gain you admiration or admonition, depending on the popularity of your offering.

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// PART II.AFTER DARK  

Sunsets are beautiful, picturesque moments that conclude the end of a perfectly spent day, and the sunsets in Amaryllis Grove are certainly no different. As the town winds down and residents return to their homes for the night, you and your fellow Orbers will follow suit – as is the way of things. The nights are a little overcast during this time of the year, with cloud-cover masking out the stars and the glow of the moon. It’s quiet. Only the sounds of night-insects chirping can be heard, and the soft, occasional coo of a bird asleep in its nest.

4.0   Perhaps you’re catching up on some late-night reading, or grabbing a late-night snack or a night-cap. The last of the evening hours are usually spent in the comfort of your own home until a new day begins, although there is a town speakeasy that remains open until late, if you can find it. Once you climb into bed, there really doesn’t seem to be a reason for anything other than a soundless, well-deserved rest.

You’ll be tucked up in your own bed, or perhaps the bed you share with your backstory-spouse, when you hear a shrill scream that wakes you up from your sleep. High on the adrenaline, you may want to don a robe and your slippers and step outside past your front door where you’ll be joined by other neighbours on your street. They exchange glances with each other, and then may meet eyes with you, and they look scared, with their wide eyes and clenched fists, some of the husbands and wives holding each other’s hands for comfort. It isn’t outside of the norm for such a startling cry. The house in question will be fully lit, with Mrs Myrsdin sobbing into her hands, mumbling, ‘I told him not to say anything! I told him to keep quiet! It came for him–’ as the AGPD (Amaryllis Grove Police Department) approach her, one of the officers patting her shoulder in consolation. Another officer moves towards a cluster of concerned neighbours, assuring them that this will be taken care of, and when they spot you, they’ll tell you the same.

It might seem difficult now to head back to sleep, but the crowd disperses and the AGPD lead Mrs Myrsdin back into the house. The lights remain on for another hour, maybe two, and then the entire block quiets again, the AGPD preparing to leave for the station once more. It seems there’s nothing else to do but get as much rest as you can before the morning ... but everything about this doesn’t sit quite right. Maybe you'll linger behind for a moment, see if you can ask a few questions, gather a bit of information, as it seems that after the brief moment of shock none of the residents seem to be particularly surprised by any of this.

5.0   The skies are blue and the sun is bright, and as Amaryllis Grove wakes up to a new day, everything feels as though Mrs Myrsdin never screamed into the night, with no signs of the AGPD having visited, and not a whisper to be said of Mrs Myrsdin's husband disappearing. If you try to investigate what happened at the house last night, Mrs Myrsdin will conveniently be absent, and any neighbours around you may either greet you with the most firm, reassuring smiles, or an outright aloofness to ignore anything you say. They’ll interject by telling you about the Harvest festivities, or make a comment about the weather. Some might sound snappish and dismissive. One thing’s for sure: everything feels tense.

But as the skies gradually shift to an overcast, one of your neighbours may gesture to the sky with another plasticky smile, commenting about the brightness of the sun. ‘It sure is bright today,’ they might say, the comment seemingly so off-handed. It’s casual, polite, and a little strained. ‘It’s got a far reach.’

It’s too bright to stare directly into the sun without damaging your eyes, but as you glance up just past it, you might notice that the sun looks a little … too close. And it doesn’t look a whole lot like a sun either, though it is bright but it looks like a large whitish sphere with a piercing, golden iris and it seems to be watching. This certainly wasn’t in the morning’s weather report.

6.0   As you continue to settle in Amaryllis Grove, you may begin to pick up on other strange things that you hadn’t noticed before – not surprising, considering the whirlwind of events that have taken place in such a short period of time and having to grow accustomed to the daily lives of the residents in Amaryllis Grove.

There are figures that resemble people scattered around town in all shapes, sizes, and races, replicated with excruciating detail, all the way down to their expressions and poses. In their everyday wear, they stoically fill in corners and take up empty spaces, and while it can’t possibly be true, their eyes seem to follow you as you move past them – even with the empty gazes of their glassy eyes. They’re made of metal and clad in something soft and pliable to make up their skin. Once you know what you’re looking for, they almost start to make themselves more visible to you. But if you study them for too long, you may begin to feel a little nauseous and queasy, and temporarily experience vertigo. Or you may start to have feelings of paranoia settle in, making you short-tempered and twitchy.

These figures can be found almost everywhere around the town, but they will mostly be populated in and around the residential blocks, looking as though they’re busily living their lives in passive background poses. They’re easy enough to miss if you aren’t sure what you’re looking for, and they’re so life-like you almost feel rude staring for too long, in case they turn their heads towards you.

And on the next night, you might catch the glimpse of a dark, stationary silhouette of a man in the Myrsdin house just before Mrs Myrsdin draws the curtains closed.

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F Y I

• The events in this log take place during the month of October.

• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.

• To explore a specific location or speak to any of the NPCs, please submit your search request HERE.

• And finally, your soundtrack for this log: ♪ ♪ ♪

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Comments

CHIRISU DINNER PARTY ( you're all invited 💌 )

[alternatives]

( born from the idea of getting a collective group together with the hope of a greater chance at intel on some of amaryllis grove's domestic elite, the arisu household ( husband one, arisu "househusband" ryohei, husband two, arisu "breadwinner" shuntaro ) decides to throw an AESTHETICALLY NIGHTMAREISH DINNER PARTY within the first two weeks of the mission. it can be considered nightmareish from several different directions of analysis — a.) the conglomeration of modern japanese cuisine meeting the cetty brocker cookbook of pleasantville alien america, b.), the fact that arisu has never had to cook for himself outside of an apocalypse survivalist scenario and is therefore very slightly out of his depth when it comes to cooking impressively for a large group of people, or anyone at all for that matter, or c.), the very real possibility that whatever is wrong with this place will continue being wrong while arisu has a panic attack over his pink azalea cake with red bean filling miserably burning in an unreliably janky oven.

so, what can you expect? of course, the domiciliary espionage towards locals, networking and schmoozing along the buffet table, featuring onigiri and tamagoyaki and panko fried vegetables and a truly alarming pile of instant noodles served up in a "build your own" kind of way with toppings and add-ins left in little gravy boats on the side. it's all on the same table as such winning dishes as meatloaf, coleslaw, and salad, along with some questionable dishes that seem undefinable by recipe or word. of course, it's all subject to scorch marks and burnt edges, with parts of any individual dish being extremely hot in one bite, and undercooked in the next. but — hey, you brought your own dishes right? right???? it's what a good neighbor would do.

if risking food poisoning is less your style, there's always sloshing up people with overly generous cocktails, a prepared batch of some yuzu and ginger infusion that is strong in all flavors but especially mighty is the punch of vodka in it. a bar cart is there to serve yourself, with the fix-in's of such popular cocktails as vodka red bull but without the red bull, and malibu sunrise but we only have dark rum, is that okay? or rum and coke but — well, actually, we've got everything it takes to make those. and, naturally, no party no matter how very classy and rich it appears on the outside is complete without jungle juice — a huge vat of near radioactive looking pink liquid that, if asked what went in it, will earn you a hapless shrug and a look of confusion. i didn't make it, everyone seems to say, as if it is the primordial goo that always was.

for those looking for a more holistic approach to reconnaissance, no dinner party is complete without entertainment, this time in the form of games, board and otherwise. join a group of charades that seems to be heating up in the living room, or a very intense game of monopoly taking place over the dining room table. drunk enough to feel like twister is a good idea? get to know your fellow orbers and upsettingly cheery locals through the sweaty embarrassment of physical activity in stuffy, tailored clothes. more important than orb hunting is the friends we made along the way, so before any missions are completed, make sure your number one priority is having a great time ( and eating jelloed desserts ).

leaving so soon? be sure to take a slice of something edible from the dessert table — you have about a 50/50 shot, if you're willing to risk it. if you choose poorly, there is a guaranteed doctor in the house, so at least there's that? )

[greenpower]

[If Ivy gets food poisoning from eating some questionable mid century culinary disaster and her immune system kicks in to spare her the suffering, does that count as using her power and failing her personal goal on this mission? It's a serious question to consider as she eyes the dinner spread.

Or maybe not that serious. She's here, after all, and she's helped herself to a healthy amount of that yuzu ginger situation—it's definitely more of a situation than a drink though—and she's currently eyeing some of the offerings.]

I'm not going to find, like, just a giant chunk of ham in the salad am I?

[She wouldn't put it past some of these.]

I suppose I should give anything in jello a pass.

[dispassioned]

[Chishiya is trying to figure out what exactly is in this punch bowl when he hears Ivy speaking.

He's actually not sure about the ham situation. He definitely has bought any, but he's not sure what Arisu might have picked up while preparing for this. The salad wasn't one of the dishes Chishiya helped with.

But he can comment on the second part.]

It's not jello, it's agar.

[dispassioned]

[In this corner we have one (1) party host...just kind of hanging out, actually. His thin white dress shirt is partially unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up, not entirely in line with the obnoxiously American conservative aesthetic of this little town, like he's trying to push the envelope in little ways.

If it seems like he's wallflowering at his own dinner party...well...maybe he is, a little bit. At least as long as Arisu lets him get away with it. But he'd call it people watching, okay. There's a purpose to it. Probably.

Anyway, he's quietly sipping a drink and if he happens to catch your eye he'll offer a nod or a wave of greeting.]

[alternatives]

( at some point in the night arisu has crossed the threshold from slightly drunk to very drunk, but it's luckily towards the end of the party when most people have already been sent on their merry way, so no one except for chishiya can see him stumbling into this, smiling vaguely at absolutely nothing. in fact — chishiya is his end goal. arisu isn't the type to pull someone into a party when they're not feeling it, so he's left chishiya mostly up to his own devices throughout the night, taken up with a million other responsibilities. now, though? he makes his way to chishiya's guard cat post, languidly sliding his arms around his waist, pushing his alcohol flushed cheek into the curve of his neck. swaying slightly to a record still turning several rooms away. )

Let's go to bed. I'm exhausted.

( this is a ploy. he's mostly trying to avoid doing any cleaning tonight, which he willingly will admit is the absolute worst. but! he can be convincing. see: bending down and scooping chishiya up in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, carrying him to bed, just like he carried him through the threshold. he thinks it's a pretty good argument. )

[deferences]

[for whatever it's worth, chishiya looks far more comfortable in his slightly unbuttoned and rolled-sleeves shirt; sizhui's outfit isn't as uncomfortable as some of the other stuff he's been in, but it did take him a little while to get used to the suspenders and their use in connection with his pants. given this is a party, he figured it better to at least try and dress accordingly, rather than show up in a school uniform of all things.

once he spots chishiya, the hand he's currently not holding an onigiri with gets lifted so he can wave first, then he begins making his way over, pushing aside long hair that's come loose from his carefully crisscrossed hairpins.]

Wallflowering again, are we? [only gently teasing because of the circumstances.]

[rehandle]

[ This kind of thing isn't exactly his scene, but then it's hard to make a scene out of quaint parties filled with variously happy couples when you're a single millionaire in a Manhattan high rise or a single sorcerer in a vast Greenwich village townhouse. Maybe he's just never had the chance to give it a real try.

It's been fun so far. He and Yujin are putting on a good show when together, catching up with and keeping eyes on orbers and locals alike when apart. But there's only so much active socialising one can do. When you need a break, there are a very limited number of options.

So Stephen of course settles in alongside Chishiya, about as close to alone and unbothered by company as he can hope to be while actively being in someone's company, and offers a query. ]

Wedded bliss suiting you?

[ It's warm with light mischief. Joking, though there's a little curiosity. Just because Chishiya's a nice reprieve from the rest of the party doesn't mean Stephen has any intention of returning the favour. ]

[cruelyethuman]

[The jello salad sits like a blob of sadness on his plate, as Aleksander tries to find a seat at this... party, but every table is occupied and games are played. Games he doesn't know the rules to, but they look too intense for what he wants this night, which leaves him to balance a glass of (probably) rum and coke and this hideous concoction of jello (which he thought he liked from Yelena's shots on the station) and something that might have been food, once.

It wriggles on the plate, and he stares at it.]

Who could think up something so-- [the blob of jellified salad mocks him with a jaunty jiggle-] this.

[alternatives]

( arisu forgot to take off the apron tied around his waist, which is smudged in colors that probably shouldn't be evident in anything that could be considered edible — brights blues and greens and reds. he looks at aleksander's blob a little forlornly, imagining this is how his father looks at him when he expects something far greater out of him. his teeth sink into his lip, ashamed. )

I think it's a delicacy. ( well — the cookbooks seem to like it, at least. arisu pastes on a nervous smile. ) Did you try it?

[dispassioned]

[Chishiya is observing Aleksander from the noodle buffet, critically. With a hefty amount of side eye. If Aleks thought Chishiya was annoying before, he will definitely only get worse if he makes Arisu sad.]

If you’re not a fan of jelly desserts why did you take it?

[alternatives]

( at any point in the night, arisu can be found quietly fretting over something bubbling in an overfull pot at the stove, frantically checking his ancient cookbook that has about a million recipes, but no real directions. it's a real disaster waiting to happen. and it probably does. or maybe it doesn't? that depends on you.

towards the end of the night he gets liquored up enough to actually enjoy himself, setting up a record player in the front room and putting on some old do woopy and vaguely otherworldly sounding music that he borrowed from the neighbors. anyone is subject to a drunk twirl or two, with arisu guiding them through the motions of a graceless dance he just made up. it largely comprises one party (you) being spun around in cutesy circles, and the other party (him) laughing without catching his breath. )

[softshoes]

[When your party has questionable food and unquestionably heavy-handed alcohol, it's not a surprise that half this party is buzzed at minimum by now. And although he is old enough to know his limits at this point, Yujin's not immune either.

So, warm and a little tipsy, he's being a good guest and enduring Arisu's silly dance with good humor. With a pang of nostalgia, even-- there's a small girl who'd trodden on his shoes and invented something similar, many years and universes away. But a few twirls in, Yujin realizes: no, this could very well be a learning opportunity, couldn't it?]

Arisu-san, [he says, stopping Arisu with a chuckle still on his lips.] like this. Follow me.

[And as he takes the younger man's hand to lead, Yujin takes him through an evenly-paced, basic waltz step.]

since they'll already be getting some dancing done, time to help with cooking

[deferences]

[after getting mostly acquainted, sizhui takes it upon himself to explore a little, knowing full well that this ought to be a pretty safe venture, given his location. however, coming upon arisu struggling with something in the kitchen has him hesitating, eyebrows lifted, second thoughts immediately overriding that idea as he watches the scene before him.

maybe he should help? lest arisu injures himself or really does end up with a whole disaster on his hands.] Ah, ah, how are things going in here? Do you need a hand?

[might as well try and make it seem like he thinks arisu's not struggling too much, right?]

[coordination]

What are you doing!?

[ Here comes the cooking savior(?), peering in from the living room when he both hears and smells something ... odd. Thank goodness for those enhanced senses. ]

Turn the heat down! Are you trying to set the whole place on fire?!

[softshoes]

[You probably can't fuck up a rice ball, right? Right. So Yujin reasons, bypassing the dubious-looking aspics on the buffet table in favor of something closer to home-- and more importantly, not burned. Unfortunately, Arisu had gotten ambitious: some of them are yaki onigiri. Semi-charred yaki onigiri.

Even he's not able to conceal the look of disappointment on his face entirely. He scoots by and, like a good guest, dutifully grabs an uncooked one, thank you very much. Then, with a conciliatory look upon his face, he uses a pair of tongs to point out some of the more salvageable ones to whoever is beside him in line.]

This one looks all right... I think.

[But when he's only picked at the food before partaking of the very generous drinks, Yujin quickly loosens up. He's warm, personable, and very good at schmoozing-- one of the tricks of his profession's trade, really-- so he's mingling with the other guests playing games in the living room. He's not half bad at charades, and he brought that hanafuda deck from Ankata along, in case anybody wants to try their hand at koi koi again. Once the evening starts to wind down and Arisu breaks out a record player, however, Yujin is the first person ready to dance, helpfully walking local and orber alike through some simple steps. If you ask really nice he'll go into the kitchen where there's tile and show off a tap move or two.

All in all, it's a pleasant evening, food aside. But as the guests begin to disperse and the party draws to a close, there's an uneasy expression on his face as he waits patiently on the porch for his... husband. There's a lot to consider with this mission, that's for certain-- it'll take far more than one good night to get it all off his mind.]

[windstrewn]

[Shi Qingxuan looks at the only slightly charred yaki onigiri and lets out a judgmental hum. She might not be an amazing cook by any means, but she knows enough to get by. (It was inevitable when she had a best friend who liked to eat as much as Ming-xio—the thought of her ex best friend turned...whatever he is now stops her cold and she sets the thought aside.) Instead, the young woman takes the tongs from Yujin and begins piling a few dumplings onto his plate.]

Here, try these, I made them! [They're pork mostly, and while the ingredients hadn't been exactly what she was used to working with, they actually came out pretty good despite a few substitutions.]

[coordination]

[ Yujin's cousin-in-law of course attends the party with his dear husband (contrary to rumors around town that claim otherwise).

He seems comfortable here, but that's because he partakes in the way he knows best how. Which means that he strays from things like the games, the dancing, the actual fun things. Instead he mingles (particularly with people he doesn't know, people not part of the Ximilia), he briefly disappears into the kitchen when Arisu nearly sets the place on fire, and then he eats and drinks (probably only one or two, he's got work in the morning).

So by the end of the night, he isn't as sleepy or as spent as a lot more the more gung-ho partygoers (boring ass mfer), but he does look satisfied when he comes across Yujin as he steps out onto the porch. ]

You look like you were enjoying yourself.

[dispassioned]

[At Yujin’s reaction to the yaki onigiri, Chishiya sneaks a quick glance around to try to spot where Arisu is in the room. Not that he’s concerned about him getting his feelings hurt if he sees Yujin rejecting his onigiri or anything. Not at all.

He grabs the onigiri next to the one Yujin points out, one that is pretty significantly charred, and proceeds to eat it.]

It’s fine.

[rehandle]

[ As the evening wears on, Stephen drifts from magically cheating his plate full of near-inedible culinary experiments into edible foodstuffs to chatting with neighbourhood spouses to backseat driving games of checkers, until he finds himself eventually here, stood at the edge of the makeshift living room dance floor that seems to have mostly conjured itself out of people's contentment to just start dancing, nursing a beer he doesn't seem to be drinking and watching as Yujin coaxes waltzes from where waltzes fear to tread.

(Arisu, he's talking about Arisu).

He watches for a while. And a while after that. And finally, as one song winds down and croons up into the next, he can't quite keep himself from settling a hand lightly at Yujin's waist, voice rich and warm with fond amusement and perhaps a little mischief as he asks of Yujin's current dance partner from over his husband's shoulder: ]

Mind if I cut in?

[zune]

[ It's probably a lucky thing that Peter Quill's not only developed a pretty strong stomach being raised by the Ravagers, but he's also got the remnants of the Celestials still swirling somewhere in his DNA despite the lack of powers and lack of everything else, really. It keeps him mostly immune to simple things like common influenza viruses and probably food poisoning.

Probably.

It won't stop him from piling stuff up high on his plate, things he'd either never seen before, look similar to the stuff he's seen across space, or only vaguely remembers from cartoons he'd caught on Saturday mornings. He might not look like he fits in with the genteel crowd in town with their cardigans and button-downs and freshly-pressed slacks; on the other hand, he's dressed like he stepped out of the set of Grease. But it's still ... mostly period-appropriate. And he thinks he looks cool.

If or when he spots the hosts, he'll likely still be eating, and after schmoozing with a couple of the neighbours, will wave a hand in greeting too. ]

Hey! Great party.

[windstrewn]

A.

[Shi Qingxuan is in fact a VERY good neighbor, and with her cane in one hand and a picnic basket hanging off the elbow of her other arm, she carefully makes her way to the spread of food and tries to find a place to set her basket of actually-very-good-dumplings down. She fiddles for a while, finally leaning her cane against the table to make both hands available, but she could probably use a little help over here.]

B.

[A couple of hours into the party, Shi Qingxuan can be found with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, not entirely wasted but far from sober. She's clingier now, and when her "husband" isn't in reach, she'll catch the arm of the nearest passerby and give them a bright charming smile as she tucks a soft brown curl behind her ear.]

Excuse me, will you sit with me for a little while? I'm lonely sitting here all by myself. Will you tell me about yourself? Did you try the dumplings?

[buckkeep]

( very luckily, amarylis grove's resident mountain man has some experience with fine dining, in that he was occasionally present while his wife planned what she wanted, and he nodded agreeably, thinking about chopping wood. so, he sees the lack in their meal planning as easily as he'd spot a black spot on an otherwise ripe fruit. he comes to the party, glances around, and before saying anything to anyone, leaves, rudely.

the next anyone will see from fitzchivalry is hours later, and it's more the scent than the actual man that attracts a population. in the backyard of the arisu's household, fitz has taken it upon himself to convert their fire pit into a roaster, turning a very large pig on a spit regularly to cook evenly. when it's just about finished he dampens the heat of the flames with well placed rocks, before portioning the meat out on piles of plates. it seems mostly like unconscious work for him — no one asked him to do this, and neither did he ask for permission. neither does he notice if or when people start looking for some food.

when he does, he perks a little, turning his demeanor from homeless cave dweller into something almost — regal. he nods to the plates. )

Hungry? Help me bring these inside, would you?

( later in the night, fitz can be found taking the board games very seriously — he's never met a beast quite as frustrating as charades, and woe be it to the person who ends up on his team. )

time to scare arisu for funsies excuse me

[mienai]

[Hagakure has come to the dinner party, because food is awesome, thank you very much. But she also came here to complete some of her personal goal requirements. For fun! Yes, for fun. When poor Arisu rounds a corner during the dinner party, a big ghostly figure suddenly JUMPS OUT IN FRONT OF HIM-!]



BOO!

[tochnyy]

( the buffet before mal reminds him of a banquet back home, the sort he'd never attended. the last one he'd been invited to in ravka had been cut short, but mal had not even made it that night. no, no thanks to vasily. ) Is... this meant for people?

( it is rude to ask, he knows, but mal is not one for manners. no, least of all now. he has eaten food that looks less appealing, of course, but now he is not sure that even his iron stomach can handle what it would take not to insult the hosts of the night. he tilts his head slightly. ) And is the drink any safer so we can make a toast?

( it's bad luck to go too long between them and if they can't eat, they should drink. )

[peasant]

[ under ordinary circumstances, alina has the unrefined palate of a child given free rein — very little, including mud, is off the table if it looks appetizing.

it's an accomplishment, then, that the neighborhood's trash compactor (in the form of one deceptively diminutive alina starkov) can be found idly prodding at the buffet. not grazing, necessarily, but more ... checking that none of the more questionable creations are still alive, watching as they bounce and jiggle. she is, of course, less discerning around the cocktails, though she does seem to drain each glass with worrying speed. equally worrying — how unaffected she looks, by virtue of ravkan blood. despite her size, drinking fellow soldiers under the table had never been a particular issue, when she'd been invited to join along.

which was — well, rarely. which likely explains her obvious discomfort, from the moment she walks through the door to the moment she's ready to leave. in fact, she seems to reappear and disappear conveniently, once someone looks away or moves to talk to her. no subtlety about avoiding social interaction to be found here, especially when there are certain faces she's evading.

the only time she appears content is when, with equal subtlety (which is to say, none at all), she rolls up the sleeves of her suit to finger-pick at the desserts. without much stealth at all, she grabs napkins to tuck away slices of (edible, thankfully) cake into her bag and try to make her getaway, after making a obligatory appearance. were you about to eat that piece? too bad, it's hers now. if you left it out on your plate? you guessed it, also hers now, like an unapologetic squirrel packing for winter. ]