revivalproject | [Event Mingle] Great Full Day!

[Event Mingle] Great Full Day!

At last it is here, the day An Nu and Ga Re told you about has arrived. While the last few days may have been a bit of a trial with the whole replicator going a bit wonky thing, but that’s no reason not to celebrate, right? Right! Good thing too, because the Whale Comb Sent Her is absolutely awash with what must be seasonal good cheer. The whole outside of the building is wrapped in vines, though thankfully this time they seem to be made primarily of a thick sort of cloth, and the fall colors to them are also painted on. There’s no doubt that the decorations come from your friendly Agrii either, because apparently they feel that pink and purple are also very valid color choices for fall foliage, so enjoy those splashes of color too.

Inside the decorations continue, the fabric vines ringing the room at a height that would clearly be natural for the Agrii. Amid them are painted cloth banners announcing things like WHALE COMB and EAT MUCH and GREAT FULL and of course the ever present THANK YOU. Around all of these are cloth and paper pictures that wouldn’t look out of place in an elementary school classroom around Thanksgiving. You’ve got your handprint animals, foam shape plants, and vividly painted pictures of tables full of food with Agrii around it as a group. And sometimes in those last ones there are little drawings that… wait, He Row, is that you? Well, they did say you were celebrating together, so maybe that’s what they meant.

But of course people didn’t just come here for the wonderful decorations. You’re here for the food, for the feast, for the togetherness. Good news is that the Agrii have you covered on that as well. A series of tables have been set up in the Sent Her, much like when He Rows first arrived on Agra-10. Along one wall is a long series of tables covered with pink and purple cloths, and over the majority of these are the foods the Agrii have sent down. There are platters of hamburgers (which taste like peanut butter), and plates of peanut butter sandwiches (which also taste like peanut butter). There are pies that look like they’re apple and taste like iced tea. There are more ‘traditional’ things too, which are things like green bean casseroles, vegetable lasagnas, and even some seventeen layer dip to go with all of the chips. There’s apparently no meat though. Not from the Agrii at least.

The even better news is that this isn’t all there is. A whole two tables of space have been left open for the He Rows to bring their own food offerings, or the results of their replicator experiences. The Agrii have been kind enough to leave out plenty of extra plates and serving utensils as well, so no one should worry about there not being enough. And hopefully what your fellows have brought is very tasty. Or came out in a reasonable size or volume from the replicator.

Then there are the tables laid out in the middle of the room. They are round things with only a few seats at each, and there are name tags? Apparently the Agrii thought they might help you get to know each other this Great Full with random seating. Hope your table mate is fun. At each space there is also a little cloth baggie of… oh wow, is that candy? Yes it is! Those sweets are going to be a great reward for after dinner. Or during it. And surely there’s nothing strange that comes from eating them at all.

Finally, there’s even something for those whose entertainment isn’t to be found in eating. The Agrii have been studying their He Rows for a while now, and they know what you need. One side of the room is dedicated to other forms of entertainment. There’s a big poster drawn of what looks to be a glownie, but lacking a tail. Ah but don’t worry, there are tails made of cloth in a bowl nearby for He Rows to restore to the paper glownie. Don’t worry about injury to the paper glownie, it’s all done with magnets! For those who aren’t about tail pinning there are other fun things to be done. There’s a karaoke machine in the corner, clearly the Agrii remember how much fun that was. Wait… Is that the exact one that He Row Billy loaned to the Deep End? Apparently so. And last but far from least is the most important of celebration games: a booth with a stack of personal peanut butter pies and a sign saying ‘Eat Fast Count Is!’ Which probably means eating contests for those brave enough to face that much peanut butter.

FAQ
Do we need to make our own logs for this?
No. You’re welcome to use this post to make Top Levels for this mingle. Get out there and enjoy your celebration together.

We’re not obligated to that randomized seating are we?
Nope! We just felt it could be a handy way to explain mingling with other He Rows you might not normally talk to.

What if our character would bring food?
Our best suggestion is to note that in your TLs. Who knows, maybe your creativity with cooking or the silliness of your offering (or the results of a poor replicator situation) could be fun for others to enjoy.

Can we still use the replicator here and now?
Absolutely. If that sort of chaos is what you want to have fun with, then have at it. Besides people here can probably help you eat your way through any food you get.

That candy seems sorta suspicious. What’s up with that?
Great question. Each baggie will have a random assortment of little gummy candies that are shaped like Agrii heads, complete with three eyes, smile, and little teeth. Each one even has their own unique flavor. And their own unique side effects.

Yellow - Maple Flavored - Makes eater more energetic and friendly
Green - Sour Apple Flavored - Makes eater feels mischievous and is more likely to play pranks and tell jokes
Blue - Dark Lager Flavored - Makes eater tell the truth for half an hour (is not actually alcoholic
Purple - Chocolate Flavored - Makes eater very affectionate or romantically inclined
Red - Cinnamon Flavored - Makes eater easily angered or quick to challenge other people

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I haven't made this before, but that does not mean no one has come up with the combination before I made it," she answered, watching him carefully. The hug was not something she pushed away either. She was fond enough of the man to accept it.

That was good, because she was coming with him as he drew them back closer to the soup. "I mean, listen, it's entirely possible you're a culinary visionary, never been done before, a revelation," he levelled, so they were both confident that he was not doubting Lark's skill. "I'm just wondering if you've put anything, you know--Like wine, do they even let you cook with wine at the nunnery?" Smooth cover, and almost a genuine inquiry, even if Lark was going to spend most of the answer reminding him that she was not a nun. Tony did not know a lot of religions that didn't focus on what a person was not allowed to do, and Lark hadn't mentioned the familiar restrictions.

"It isn't a nunnery," she laughs, shaking her head. "And I prefer to avoid alcohol. Imagine weaving or doing magic on wine? It would be worse than riding while drunk."

It would be silly to do. But no, there was none of that here.

"Though from my understanding, when one cooks with wine, the alcohol cooks off."

"I'm kind of thinking you'd have a great time weaving with a bottle of wine," Tony proposed, twirling a finger by his temple to conjure up this scenario properly for them. He finally slipped away then to free his hands and risk gathering a bowl, though he was still slow to actually pour out a serving of the soup, taking his time stirring what was left in the pot to watch the ingredients bob around in the broth. "Still tastes like it, though..." he murmured, mostly to himself, reasonably convinced that Lark wouldn't be lying to him and still trying to sniff out any problems. With most things around here, the problem was that they never really could be sure what the effects were.

Now that he was closer again, he had to confront those pictures posted up on the wall, and as he finally brought himself to serve the soup he asked, "Have you looked at these?" with a nod toward the drawings.

While people weren't as quick to throw around the word 'addiction' in her world, it was still one she could come to if he kept her thinking on the direction of alcohol. It was very good that he had brought her thoughts away from it, even as she took up a chunk of the herbed bread and forced it into his hands to go with the soup.

"I have. I have seen similar things from children."

"They're not children, though," Tony had to put onto the table, looking very awkward with his hands full and forced into rare stillness to not splash soup all over them. The aborted starts were still clear in the twitch of his fingers as he continued, "And--Omega's never been there, with them. I know they're not photos, they can draw any peanut-butter scented thing in their weird brains, but..." It was difficult to land on exactly what was troubling about the images, without a confident assessment of the Agrii themselves. "If there's something they want to happen," he tried to define, "they'll usually just do it, very little consideration for--very little consideration. They wanted us here, we're here now. They want a Thanksgiving party, we've got a Thanksgiving party."

No, they aren't she supposes. Even if she feels she isn't too wrong at that.

"What's Thanksgiving?" she asks, looking at his hands and trying to not worry more about him. The poor man seems... distracted."

A weird, regional thing was bound to be distracting, Tony should have anticipated that, and he was left briefly sputtering as he tried to shift gears out of his attempt to analyze Agrii behaviour. "It's like...this," he said, gesturing with his bowl of soup out at the whole party, everyone gathered to eat food. "It's a whole thing, like a harvest season thing, big meal, your mom gets the chef to make a turkey and seven pies she'll never touch, dad finishes the limited edition bottle of whiskey, we learn things about each other that we should probably talk to a therapist about."

"I've never enjoyed a harvest festival that seemed to go the way that you are implying," she noted, frowning.

Of course she knew harvest celebrations though. She was a dedicate of the earth goddess of the harvest and growing things and all of that. It was practically a right of hers.

At least she got the gist with the 'harvest festival', though coming from Lark, Tony suspected it was a much grander occasion than having to host uncle Morgan, sometimes. Without any ammunition to defend this sacred Stark family tradition of being humiliated over cranberry sauce, he took a breath and offered instead, "Congratulations," with an apologetic shrug, then a gesture out at this chance to experience each other's cultures. "Hopefully your track record holds up, and not mine."

"I'm not sure about track records, but the fact is that such behavior would be ill suited on a day meant to honor Mila and the gifts she gives us," she noted. The goddess was kind, but respecting her was important, and the Circle wouldn't make so much conflict on her day.

"Oh, it's not really a religious thing for us...I don't think...," Tony tried to excuse, like that made it any better, eyes rolling searchingly because he wasn't actually that sure if Thanksgiving was supposed to be kind of religious. It wasn't part of his family's celebration anyway, and the Avengers made a very non-denominational household. "Should you--we--" he welcomed, as best as he could with his full hands, "be doing...more suitable behaviours?" Pietro and Ben had prayed over some meals, that kind of thing seemed reasonable to continue in an equally diverse group.

It isn't? Well, that makes sense. From what Lark has observed, religion was far less core on Tony's world. Then again there were plenty who didn't follow gods in her world too. Though not the Traders. They were all devout to their gods.

"Don't worry about me, dear. In a way being a Dedicate of the Winding Circle's Earth Temple makes me a priestess in my own rights. I know how to keep to my own spiritual needs and dedications to the Circle's gods, even if it is clear their touch does not reach here."

Pushing the matter to try to convince Lark that he could be trusted with whatever spiritual practices she did would likely have the opposite effect. He hadn't exactly presented a convincing argument thus far, with his skepticism. Believing and doing Lark's thing with her were different equations, but maybe not different enough for Lark. So Tony made a tight-lipped smile, awkward now, nodding with his focus drifting to try to figure out what he was supposed to do with himself that wasn't so distractingly heretical, and abruptly offered, "We're supposed to say what we're thankful for. Thanksgiving. Giving thanks. I'm thankful you're not dead. You know, from the...from your clothes."

Ah, what they're grateful for, that sounds like a great custom. So Lark listens and then smiled. That was good. Not being dead was very good.

"I'm grateful for our friendship, and that Rosethorn and the children aren't here."

Because those are both very true things. Even if one hurts more than the other.

That was less awkward, enough that Tony could offer a wry smile as Lark's only warning before he was teasing, "If she was, you'd have to tell her you let me see you naked. That's not one of your spiritual expressions, is it? I can get behind some unimpeded communing with nature."

"It was hardly letting you. Though she is a jealous woman. The door of your forge might have been overgrown," she noted with a smile.

Though the idea of 'unimpeded communing with nature' makes her laugh. How ridiculous.

"It's okay, just let me talk to her, we'll work it out. I'm very charming," Tony replied. "I've convinced some very uptight partners that a threesome would be healthy for their relationship. I don't know if I was ever right, I don't usually stick around that long, there's a first time for everything." He had done plenty of his own kind of spiritual communing, he could adapt.

He is very charming, which earns a chuckle from her, but she shakes her head.

"Oh Tony, I would love to see you try. Rosethorn is not someone turned from her path by charm, and she's decidedly and completely uninterested in men in that manner. So I fear your attempts would be doomed and you might just get cut up by some thorns."

"You're giving me mixed messages here," Tony complained, looking as serious as he could manage with his soup. "Am I not supposed to like the thorns? It sounds like we'd be on the same page, honestly, you're the one holding yourself back at this point. Come on, I've got to put this down, I feel like I'm going crazy." He could not manage very much with his soup, including eating it with any level of decency, and he was starting to get really hungry. Maybe they could find a table that was willing to share their harvest season traditions.

"Let's find a table then," she says, gathering her own bowl and bread before moving away.

"My dear, the thorns wouldn't like you. She's a plant person. Your sorts of innovations would make her very annoyed."

The thorns themselves being able to judge Tony did make this negotiation more difficult, he couldn't imagine what he could offer to some plants, but that didn't mean he understood what Lark meant by his annoying innovations. "What--what 'sorts of innovations'? Am I not growing enough plants? They do that on their own, I don't have to invent a plant that grows, they've got the system down."

"Rosethorn is an Earth Dedicate whose whole life, and magic, is plants," she points out. "And there's the difference. Your innovations are about people and tools and devices. Rosethorn rarely cares for said things."

This description Rosethorn was ignoring a very obvious outlier, which Tony had to acknowledge with a dubious pout as he finally managed to free his hands with his food pushed onto a table, just to plant one pointedly on his hip. "You must have been laying on the gas to get her attention," he prompted, skepticism softening to an appreciative quirk of his eyebrow. He was an avid supporter of a ridiculous romantic gesture, after all.

Oh dear, what a conclusion. Lark laughed and nodded.

"She was beautiful, and prickly. Her skin is a warm golden from all of her time in the sun, with a healthy glow to it. Her hair is crimson, like the rose she chose to name herself for. She's prickly and sharp, but below it all, nurturing and sweet. The rose, and the thorn. And I loved her dearly when we first met."

And oh but the warmth on her face, and the longing.

"I was lucky, that she would even look at me."

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