[mingle log] from down the length of the long table

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: OTA
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: DAY :040
SUMMARY: A dinner party.
WARNINGS: Will update as necessary. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

THE LONG TABLE seems to have grown itself from out of the Station itself at the center of the Circular Gardens. It's made of the same mottled gray and white material as the Station's corridors and light scattered floors and on it has been set a parade of dishes. They are hot and cool, familiar and unfamiliar, alien and nostalgic. The dishware is mismatched -
a slew of fine china, a handful of delicately painted ceramic bowls, brass and glass cups and an assortment of fluted metal champagne stems. Pitchers of sweet teas and spiced juices and thick, syrupy wines dot the long banquet table and strings of small, glittering lights have been stitched through the surrounding greenery.

It's pleasant, or it should be. Certainly some considerable effort has been made in the preparation and execution of the meal. And perhaps parts of this meeting must be sad, but surely some of them are as intended. Certainly Cathaway seems intent on being bright and friendly from her seat toward the middle of the table as she passes dishes and instructs how certain alien foods are to be eaten, with Prince stationed beside her. This is meant to be nice: an excuse to see one another's faces, to make idle conversation, to marvel at little victories. The egg stolen from The Fair Heart is a centerpiece of the table (though swathed in a silvery luminescent fabric and clearly for decoration, not eating). Prince, clothed in something besides his typical uniform, seems occasionally distracted by it.

But there's no denying that this might be a quieter affair than intended - less populated than is ideal. Still, the food is good and surely the company must be somewhat tolerable.

I. A TOAST To your success on Waypoint Shril and to every newly hatched Host. To old friends. To new ones. To the beings we miss and the ones we don't. To what's to come. There's plenty of beverages (alcoholic or non-) available to guzzle.

II. SCINTILLATING CONVERSATION There's enough room for everyone at the table, but absolutely no assigned seating. Hopefully you don't hate the person you're sitting next to.

III. CUISINE FROM A DISTANT LAND How exactly are you supposed to eat that?

IV. A PRIVATE CORNER The nice thing about garden party dinners is it's really easy to slip away, and the garden almost seems to be designed for it. There are, among the plants and trees and shrubs, small clusters of chairs rising from the floor, lit by the twinkling strands of lights.

V. WILDCARD Drink too much. Arm wrestle on the table. Play a nice rowdy game of spoons. Say something nice. Say something mean. Awkwardly chew food that's way, way too squishy.

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((OOC Notes: This is the mingle log for the dinner party on Day :040. The dinner itself lasts a few hours unless the Hosts drag it out deep into what constitutes as evening on the station. Come and go as you please and feel free to get creative with the prompts - they're inspiration more than they are strict guidelines.))

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Comments

noctis | ota

[somnifacient]

A) SCINTILLATING CONVERSATION… MAYBE

[Making conversation is not a strong suit of his, but he feels awkward sitting and eating in silence, especially while in the company others. It’s a pang of self-consciousness that he tries to keep out of his body language, and instead prevalently felt through the way it mentally ekes outward.

His fork clinks against his plate, and Noctis forces himself to say something interesting to jumpstart the conversation that had begun to lull.]

So—

[So. So what.]

What’s the food like where you’re from?

B) CUISINE FROM A DISTANT LAND

[While it’s difficult not to feel appreciative towards all the effort put into the dinner party as a whole, Noctis is, unfortunately, a picky eater on a normal day. Anything that resembles a vegetable does not make its way to his mouth; it’s a bias that he’s never grown out of, and likely never will.

And so, when something an opaquely green and… viscous ends up on his plate, threatening to ooze off the edges, Noctis screws up his face, looking down at it with some skepticism. It reminds him of a flan monster, and as he’d be apt to say, he’s not a fan of mushy desserts.

He keeps his back straight, his fork questionably hovering over it. Should he be using a spoon instead? A straw? By the Six, this just didn’t seem like a good idea.

Noctis lightly elbows the person next to him, then pointedly glances down at his plate.]

Hey. Try this for me.

[Be the proverbial guinea pig. Please.]

C) BAD DECISIONS

[Someone’s drunk. Someone’s bleeding inebriation through their link. Maybe it’s Noctis, but that's highly unlikely. Either way, it’s affecting him. Take a look at Exhibit A, for instance:

He summons what appears to be an oversized shuriken with his magic, appearing in blue fractals, taking shape in mere seconds before him. The Star of the Rogue glistens in the light, and Noctis slams a point down into the table with a shuddering force. It pierces the surface and sticks, standing still as he releases it from his grip.

He grins, the smallest flicker of a challenge in his eyes.]

Think you can throw it straight? Never mind actually hitting a target.

D) WILDCARD

[Up for anything!]

adrasteius | ota

[hymnals]

i. pray;

[ Adra's impressed by the spread, even if he can't eat most of it. Still, there's obvious care and effort here, and Adrasteius appreciates a well-cooked meal on principle. Making food for others takes thought, it takes time and preparation. There are many ways to nourish another person, but he respects the direct route.

(Unless it's all poison. Some paranoid hiss slithers around the back of his mind, the remnant of living so long in a dangerous police state, of trying to survive a place where they really were out to get you.)

He takes a seat, and he clasps his hands. Bows his head. A soft halo of Light fringes his cornsilk bangs as he begins to pray. ]

Light bless us and keep us, and make us grateful for these and all other gifts.

ii. eat;

[ He's hoping that everything on his plate is some kind of fruit or vegetable. He's got spinach and pears, at least--his staple basics--and he's pretty sure he's found some skethylberries, too. Or some grape-like thing that has a similar tart, crisp taste.

He's not fully sure about everything in front of him, though, particularly the soup. The broth is a rich caramel color, and it smells of cardamom, of pepper flakes and turmeric. There are small, pearlescent bulbs floating in the soup, like raw onions, as well as bits of something green and sweet. The smell is overall delicious, but it's hard to tell with broth.

He offers a spoonful to the person next to him. ]

Do you think this has meat in it? Do me a favor.

iii. get a little drunk;

[ Despite his own fondness for food and cooking, Adra doesn't eat much. It's not long before he's broken away to spend some time alone, especially because the added layer of so many minds crowding around his own is difficult to tolerate. He's still too new to fend anybody off with much success, which meant that dinner was a rollicking trip through far too many emotional--and gastrointestinal--landscapes.

He's trying to meditate, now, his legs folded appropriately, his palms up. He's floating a few inches off of the ground as he does so, but his posture is wobbly. Truth be told, he's having a difficult time concentrating. Adra likes his wine, but he'd only taken one glass with dinner, though it was thick-bodied and heavy in his blood. Still, he suspects the roil in his stomach isn't solely his own doing. He feels loose-limbed, smeared around the edges, hungry for something beyond the plate.

But no. He sets his jaw. He furrows his brows. He struggles for focus. If he hears footsteps, he mutters. ]

Join me.

iv. wildcard;

[ come at me, bro ]

[adamance]

a: a toast (because everyone knows Lexa likes to give speeches)

[If there is one thing to be said about the Station, it's that the lack of "customary" approaches to things like toasts can be appreciated. Though there is an opening set of remarks, there is still obviously room for more. When the time seems appropriate, Lexa is glad to stand up, raise her glass, and draw the attention of others on her. What must be clear is this: while she has been taking sips of her drink, she has kept herself from becoming inebriated so that her words are clear and her intentions shine through.

They are, after all, in each other's heads.]

Many of you know nothing of what came before. If there were a way of preventing the changing of guards, so to speak, I believe we would manage it. If we could, we would. [She's certain of that. But even her conversations with Becca via the chip have yielded her with nothing in this arena.] Still, we find ourselves gathered here today because of our successes. We not only succeeded on a difficult mission like Concordia, we managed to take matters into our own hands, rather than play along with the circumstances before us. That proves how versatile we are.

Moving forward, there is much we have to accomplish. I believe that if we continue to utilize the tools that we had before we became Hosts, we will succeed more than we will fail. It's important to recognize that within ourselves, and use our new strengths accordingly. Who you are now is who you will be no matter the fight ahead. It's easy to fear something different, but I believe we can gather here and show how we are at one point, a group working in unison, but another that also intends to maintain ... ourselves in the process. Otherwise, what would be the point?

We can't fear what comes next. Instead, we must be ready. I believe that isn't a tall order. Thank you all.

[And then the girl who thinks she's still playing politics sits down. It was meant to be motivational, but it's also meant to draw reactions. When she pulls her glass to her lips, it's apparent that she's open for those reactions.]

b: it's not that she wants to be isolated

[Even though Lexa has been a part of the Station for months and months, there is that part of her that still prefers silence after a large gathering like this. Though she feels that she may acquire too many eyes on her for parting early, she still seeks out a private part of the garden for herself. Her mind gets lost, at least for a moment, as she recalls her last few occasions like this, and finds herself missing some of the individuals who might have normally been with her.

Still, should anyone care to see what she's doing, she's not exactly a person who can be crept up on. If she seems like she might be, she'll turn toward them before they get too close, offering an initial nod in greeting.]

c: wildcard

[Lexa will be drinking throughout the evening and therefore more smiley and chattier than normal, but there's the sense that she's a person who's all too in control of herself and her condition to really go too far with that. For those who know her well, she'll be warmer toward them.]

Ilde | Ota

[erbier]

A.) General
[ The table they have set can do nothing but bring Ilde back to the day Camille died. The tang of gore lingers subtly beneath the surface of her calm. But she is that, calm, smiling to herself softly as she lays out settings and dishes for the dinner. This get together was not her idea, nor is she the one who summoned them, she merely did as a friend requested, and little more.

She will sit at a far corner of the table, drinking only water, eating what is on her plate, but she is watching the others more than anything else. Observing who agrees with Cathaway, and tries to make this pleasant. Observing who sulks and glowers, uses this moment to try to unfurl their elder before the others. Notes who doesn't come at all.

She is certain, in her stubborn way, that this theater will never be the familial meal Cathaway was hoping for, and she is happy in her easy certainty. There is little that will rile her visibly today, but she supposes there are always those who may feel the need to try. ]

B.) Reaction
[ She does hate some people though. ]

C.) Wildcard
[ Do whatever ]

OTA

[shiro2hero]

1) GENERAL
[He's... not sure he wanted to show up here. Something about it just feels... odd. Like it's some kind of forced venture -- some kind of production they're all supposed to put on. Still, still... he's the Leader. He should at least try and make an appearance.]

[Even if the sight of a table, of people seated around it, just rings hollow. Brings up thoughts of the Castle, of multicolored armor and people laughing. Flinging green goo everywhere.]

[He'll sit, eventually, toward an unoccupied end. In an effort to keep some distance between himself and potential intoxicated minds.]


2) FOOD
[What he wouldn't give for cafeteria macaroni again.]

[There's little more than a glass of water and what looks like tiny watermelons in front of him. Except when he pokes them open, their interior is blue. And looks more like a 7-11 slurpee than watermelon.]

[At least he's had worse.]

... and at least it's not green goo.


3) WILDCARD
[Hit him with anything, or try to make him unwind a little whoops]

Aloy | ota

[huntsmachines]

➳ Cuisine from a distant land

[ The sheer amount and variety of food is breathtaking. Aloy has quite possibly never seen this food in one place in her life. She and Rost had eaten what they could hunt and gather. Her brief stay with the Nora hadn't involved much eating on her part and Meridian's marketplace just wasn't the same as this! Aloy stares and stares before she finally starts picking things. New things. Strange things. She wants to try everything.

Her plate gets stacked with food and then she adds a second. Bread baked from new grains, shellfish (shellfish!), meats, vegetables, some sort of strange gelatinous thing that wobbles when she spoons out a portion and keeps wobbling for the rest of the evening until she eats it. Eventually though she's struggling a little with something that looks rather like some sort of strange alien crustacean. The shell is proving stubborn. Holding the fork in a fist (she's been eating mostly with her fingers, utensils ignored) she whacks it against the shell to little avail. ]

Oh, come on--why would you make something this hard to eat?

[ Her annoyance radiates a little before she clamps down on it and glances nervously from side to side at her neighbors. Was she bothering them with that kind of emotion? ]

Er, Sorry.

➳ A private corner

[ Eventually when she's stuffed herself to her content, she slips away from the table. It's too noisy and too overwhelming without food to focus on. Even though she's been to Meridian being around so many people at once still unnerves her. Once away from the party, she finds herself calming a little and settles in a chair beneath a tree that hangs low overhead, it's willowy branches blooming with tiny pale purple and red flowers.

She sighs and leans her head back, eyes half-closed to try and let herself relax. She wills herself to let go--to let her mind drift away from her concerns of the moment. It's hard to do. She's always been focused and driven and letting go of the moment has never been easy for her but this is one of those times where it's warranted, she feels. Her mind does manage to drift and she almost feels like she could fall asleep her in this garden when a footfall interrupts her reverie. She jerks upright and look around, her calm mind shifting immediately into an alert mode. ]

Who's there?

➳ Wild Card

[ Got something else in mind? Let's do it! ]

closed to shepard, closed to seviilia

[lavelly]

[ for shepard ]

[It took him a long time to sort out his thoughts after the incident. It took even longer for him to decide to approach her about it. Because it was something that deserved an explanation.

The problem is he has no idea what he wants to say. It's not like he's trying to accuse her of anything. Just trying to suss out her intentions, perhaps; he'd absolutely be lying if he said he wasn't interested, despite their less than favorable first impressions. But ?he's also not going to put up with being toyed with.

Either she means it, or she doesn't touch him again.

He finds Shepard in the library and settles in a chair across from her, casually as you please. He's in a good mood, despite everything, and he's not here for a fight unless she wants to pick one, so he keeps his tone light.]

Feel like explaining yourself yet?

[ for seviilia ]

[He checks out of the dinner early. He'd never been antisocial before, but spending time around these people with their loud thoughts makes him antsy. It'll be a very long time before he gets used to the sensation, and even his current state of drunkenness stopped helping after a while.

Seviilia is the last person he expects to see outside, and it's a pleasant surprise, because he finds he rather likes her. She's more different than anyone else he's ever met, and she has fascinating experiences that he'd like to hear more of. And he's also buzzed, so any warning bells that could be going off are effectively muted.]

What are you doing out here?

[You know. Alone. Secluded from other people. Like he is now, also. Nothing sketchy there.]