OH, SUGAR, SHE'S REFINED ALWAYS NORMAL PRICED

[maskormods]

WHO: imPorts!
WHERE: De Chima, Virginia.
WHEN: November 20th, 4:00 - 10:00 PM.
WHAT: Registration in motion, with a little baking on the side!
WARNINGS: None anticipated; please let us know if this should be changed. OOC sign-ups for good deeds and the thankfulness wall can be found HERE.



When imPorts walk into the Swear-In, they will be confronted with a rather homey sight, despite the fact that they were requested to wear semi-formal clothing. All along the hall are long tables set up in front of the stage, and each place at the table is already set up with plates and cutlery, as well as familiar American Thanksgiving iconography such as cornucopias and decorative squash and pumpkins. At each place setting there is a sealed envelope. Once opened, imPorts will discover that children's drawings are inside, and while some of them are drawings of Thanksgiving and families, others are drawings of famous imPorts that the children had seen around town. On the back of each drawing is the child's name and age, a sweet addition to tug at the heartstrings.

Across the stage, a banner reading PAY IT FORWARD is hung. Once everyone is seated - or is at least standing by the sidelines in a quiet manner - a man in a well-tailored suit and a gleaming white smile steps up to the podium, tapping on the microphone twice as a sound check before clearing his throat. He's a man in his mid-30s, with brushed brown hair and a pleasant, handsome face to go with his sonorous voice. His speech is as follows:

"Good afternoon, imPorts, friends, family, and all of the above! I realize that we're a few days shy of Thanksgiving, but hopefully you'll forgive us for getting into the spirit a little early. Here in America, we treasure Thanksgiving because we have an awful lot to be thankful for. Just take a look outside; all around, you'll see neighbour helping neighbour. We take care of our own.

We are in difficult times, but that has not impacted the American spirit! No, more than that, such difficult times are what makes us stronger. It is up to us not only to show how strong our forces are, but how strong our hearts are as well. To that end, I ask each and every one of you to look outside of yourselves today, and to show the world what good, kind people Americans are, everything that the Russians are not. We are not built on military force alone, but in the goodness on our homefront, in gestures as small as volunteering at the local food shelter, or helping an elderly neighbour mow the lawn.

To that end, my friends, I urge you to do good this Thanksgiving, and to help your neighbours and friends. I have faith in your ability to do so. Thank you, and eat well! God bless you all."

With a winning smile to the cameras at the back of the room, the man steps off the podium, and the festivities begin.

Each imPort will find themselves served with traditional American Thanksgiving fare, complete with vegetarian options with a helpful waitstaff hovering around, refilling glasses and making sure that no plates go empty for long. Today of all days, select people from the non-imPort population have been invited to break bread with the imPorts, but there's no hostility to be found; they have been chosen for their unerring etiquette, though there are a few beaming children from the Granted Dreams Foundation present, quick with questions at every turn.

At the back of the room are a collection of tables. Paying it forward may be a concept that is occasionally restricted to buying coffee or helping neighbours, but for all of the less outgoing imPorts, there are a list of charities that need volunteers in the upcoming weeks: soup kitchens, English teachers, animal shelters and more are eagerly represented.

On the eastern wall of the room is a small banner that reads: I'M THANKFUL FOR... Underneath it is a small table with post-it notes and pens in a variety of colours on it, and all attendees are encouraged to write down what it is that they're thankful for, though there's certainly nothing stopping them from causing a little mischief. The contents of the notes will be listed HERE.

For all of those that tire of the endless good cheer and food and want to do a little work of their own, there's a hallway that leads to a huge room with several kitchens inside. At each workstation there are ingredients and recipes for an assortment of cookies from chocolate chip cookies for the novices to tuiles for the more senior bakers. A note on each recipe lets the bakers know that the cookies they bake will be packaged up and shipped off to charity... but surely, nobody will notice if imPorts sneak a taste or two of their own hard work.

Comments

Kaneda Shotaro | Registered (barely)

[rassera]

Cookies;

[Kaneda didn't stay for the speech.

Hell, the moment he showed up and the man started talking about America and its values, thankfulness, and how neighborly they need to be to one another ('Pay it forward', give him a goddamn spoon to gag on), he was quick to shout a Japanese expletive or two before making his way out of that damn crowd. He didn't even grab food--that's how bad that speech was.

But before he exits the metaphorical stage for good, he notices the multiple kitchens, the urge to pull himself up to one all too great. It was much more extensive than Nonah 05's kitchen, and he didn't know HALF of what some of those things did, but...they looked fancy. Not just that, but the fact that they have recipes sitting there, a copy just waiting to be taken....

with a lick of his thumb, he starts taking one of each.

Yeah just stopping by and taking a copy thanks.]

Wildcard;

[The only time you'll catch him other than that is him exiting with said recipes, so feel free to see him ready to leave about half an hour in!]

[glitterateur]

[Resisting the call of cookies (cookies for charity, dang) is near impossible, so Mabel's doing an eeny-meeny thing to choose between a couple of recipes when she notices Kaneda. It would probably be polite to go up and say hi to him before he wanders off to to cool stuff.

But instead she starts flicking chocolate chips at the back of his head from across the kitchen. It's basically the same thing as saying hello.]

[rassera]

[Kaneda was just about to leave too, and he would have, if not for an incoming chocolate chip to hit him right on the back of his head. doink. A hand reaches up, rubbing the place it bounced off of, wondering if it was...

No, there's another one, and this time he felt it!

There's a spin around as he looks for the assailant, eyes eventually resting on Mabel, right in the middle of flicking another, which bounces off the bridge of his nose this time.

...

A moment.

Before he backs up....and up...and around the counter....to flick some back.


Maturity at its finest.]

[glitterateur]

[Retaliation was not something she was prepared for. Mabel has to scramble to take cover, laughing when he lands a hit on her ear. Rude!]

Just surrender now! You're almost out of ammo, Kaneda, the end is near!

[rassera]

[Be warned, Mabel. He's an expert at chocolate chip flicking!]

Don't be so sure! You're forgetting I have...

[Quick, Kaneda. Look around.


Ah, here we go.]

...

[And he holds up some M&Ms.]

What are these.

[glitterateur]

[She squints over the counter (this could be a clever trick!!) to see what he's talking about.

Oh. Oh, yeah. Kaneda is deprived.]

M&Ms! They're chocolates covered in candy coating. But sometimes there're peanuts inside.

[rassera]

[Educate this cyberpunk caveman, Mabel.]

...

[And his pathetic attempt to pronounce that. You know what, he's giving up trying.

He'll just open that bag and start to walk over, trying to make it rain candy on her head.

You know, like a good sibling.]

Wildcard!

[matadorable]

[While Manolo all about being thankful and helping out a neighbor, that speech from earlier definitely painted the evening with ugly shades of propaganda and nationalism. Still, he tries his best not to let it ruin the rest of his time here, and he does his best to enjoy himself.

Not long into it, though, he notices a familiar face headed out the door. Frowning, Manolo moves to intercept Kaneda.]

Hey. [His voice is soft, not at all demanding or or expectant.] Are you feeling alright?

[rassera]

[Kaneda was making his way out, trying not to be overly noticeable--although it's a little hard when you're one of the few people who show up in a tshirt looking like you belong under a car...fixing it.

But Manolo's not exactly hard to miss either, and so when he walks up, he blinks slightly. Wondering who this is. He's never seen this man before--and it only becomes clear when he speaks.

He knows that accent anywhere.]

...Manolo, right? [That face brightens slightly.] Yeah, they finally let me out of the house.

[matadorable]

Yes, it's me! [He smiles, a bit relieved that Kaneda seems to remember him based off of their network conversations.] I'm glad to hear you're doing better. When I saw you leaving just now, I was afraid it might have been because you weren't well.

[rassera]

Oh! Nah.

[There's a little handwave, as if to tell Manolo not to even worry about that.] I bounce back as hard as I fall. One of my talents, you know?

[But that smile's quick to fade, looking back at the Swear-In in mild disgust.]

If anything's making me sick, it's that damn speech.

[matadorable]

[He's glad to know Kaneda can take a few knocks and still bounce back. Of course, that's not touching on how things are with his best friend. But now doesn't seem like the best time to pry about that.]

Ah...[Manolo wears a disheartened frown of his own as he follows Kaneda's gaze.] Yes. That sort of talk...it's one reason why I don't feel comfortable with the registration.

[rassera]

[Good idea. Because honestly, he's not sure where he stands with it either. Best to do the adult thing and not discuss your problems, right?

But at Manolo's face, his gaze casts down to his wrist, lowering the part on his glove that covers it to show a registered status. And one that he looks at in vague disgust.]

Are you going to?

[He doesn't blame Manolo for being unsettled, honestly. He would be too were it not for specific circumstances.]

wildcard

[lunaraneae]

[Cindy's attending this Swear-In without her mask, so when she bumps into Kaneda, she has to quickly hide any signs of recognition.]

Hey, it's-- you! A complete stranger! That I've never met before in my life!

[rassera]

[When he bumps into her, there's a small step back, quickly getting his balance back.

Why do you sound so familiar...]

...

[Blink. Blink.]

You sure about that?

[lunaraneae]

I've got a good memory. And I definitely don't remember you!

[Cue awkward laughter.]

[rassera]

...Wouldn't having a bad memory be not remembering me?

[lunaraneae]

I mean, if I knew you, I'd definitely remember you because I have a good memory! And I don't know you, so I can't remember you!

[CINDY STOP TALKING.]

[rassera]

[Cause...it's Friday now. And she gets weekends off. So...Monday...right?]

...

Yeah. That sounds about right.

[performance]

[ Dick's outwardly mingling, and inwardly waiting for all hell to break loose. It's a hard Bat-life, being this paranoid, not even getting to eat your fill of turkey because you can't fight evil with a tummy full of stuffing.

So when he sees Kaneda making a beeline for the door, he figures— well, even if he doesn't really know the guy, he'd better check up. Dick jogs over to him before he makes it to the exit, waving a hand. ]

Hey, hey, what's the rush?

[rassera]

[Aw eat your stuffing Robin, you'll burn through it once the baddies hit up the Swear-In. If they ever do.

Sabriel said they kind happen in an on-off month basis. And so far it was holding true to that theory...

Kaneda's almost made it out, only stopping when this (shorter than expected) kid he recognizes from the feed comes up. Dick...right? He remembers that. Despite his body language relaxing, his eyes roll so far they could almost spin to the back of his head.]

American patriotism and togetherness my ass. They keep talking like that I'm gonna throw up.


[What as two thumbs and is a xenophobe? THIS GUY.]

[performance]

[ Ah. Dick winces sympathetically, rubbing the back of his neck. Awwwkward... but he's not exactly wrong. ]

It's a little heavy-handed, huh?

[ "A little." ]

[rassera]

[Kaneda's not an ass enough to take it out on the imPorts--after all, they're in the same position he's in, but it's hard not to want to spit at the government talking about how great it is.]

Yeah, damn bastards.

[His own hand reaches up and imitates Dick's, rubbing the back of his own neck as he looks back at the crowd back there. The soft glare practically blanketing over his face.

But it seems like the fuse dies with the few moments to actually calm down, heaving one more sigh before turning back to Dick.]

How was the food?


[Important teenage boy questions!]

[performance]

Good. Filling. Very American.

[ Dick gives an overly solemn, gently sarcastic thumbs-up. It's not that he hates it here (he doesn't) and it's not that he doesn't love his country (he likes it well enough, at least), but he knows propaganda when he hears it. He understands the need for it, or at least what they must perceive as the need for it, but it leaves a poor taste in his mouth, regardless. And it doesn't exactly take the world's greatest detective to guess that Kaneda's... well... ]

And it's totally not your scene, is it?

[ More polite than "so where are you from," but it gets the idea across. ]

[rassera]

[Kaneda's body language reacts to that, shoulders a little less hunched, straightening himself back up. Guess it goes to show you just what is taught in schools, and how history is told.]

Doesn't beat udon, whatever it is.

[A pause.]

Neo Tokyo, Japan.