maskormenacelogs | [closed]

WHO: Alfie Solomons, Archie, Gwen Wynne-York
WHERE: Maurtia Falls
WHEN: Mid-December
WHAT: A dinner
WARNINGS: n/a; will edit if anything comes up

[Alfie hadn't really planned to have anyone over for a dinner, celebratory or not, but then it just sort of happened - first Archie had gotten the invitation on a whim, and then Gwen. He hadn't been lighting the menorah every night, but he does own one, so he pulls it out and lights the appropriate number of candles. It's going to be the most low-effort Hanukkah dinner ever, but that's all right. There will be food, at least. He's cooked some potato stew and bread for the occasion, and his rabbi had had him over a few nights ago and sent him home with some latkes. He serves it all with a flourish, leaving room on the table for anything that Gwen and Archie might have brought.]

Right, here we go.

[He sets the little plate of reheated latkes down.]

What a trio we make. The Jew, the disgruntled Christian, and the-- what are you, Archie? Eh? Are you an alien or are you a human from another planet?

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I'm from Earth, but it's not the same as this one. Land masses are all different, the dogs breath fire. That sorta thing.

[he shrugs helplessly with a sort of grin, unsure what he could even be classified as. an ex-super villain, at any rate. he doesn't mention that. it doesn't matter.]

Food looks good, though! [he says, trying to brush the topic off. he'd only brought a bottle of wine and a couple bunches of berries unique to his world that had been grown via... psychic energy. gives them a tang. maybe.] This is traditional, aye?

I was an agnostic, ( is Gwen's mild correction, ) if I have to be something.

( It's really hard to think the religion you've never given a shit about in your life matters all that much when you've been told by the last divine thing in the world that the rest of it is dead, but that's not really happy holidays talk, now, is it. Gwen has sufficient tact to leave the horrific state of her world outside of how spoiled she is in December out of the conversation. )

I think you do have to be human to join most of those clubs.

( Of the many subjects she's disgruntled about, though, religion is at least not one of them; she sounds like she's thinking aloud about something she's never really thought about, in the process of helpfully opening the bottle of wine she did bring. Like, huh, she was baptised that one time, but does it actually count? Maybe she should ask a priest. Or is that rude, asking because you're curious and not because you'd care either way about the answer?

Well, the one that's not still in her bag, anyway. You can carry a lot in one of those big leather bucket bags. )

All right - the Jew, the girl who normally celebrates Christmas, and the human from the fire-breathing dog Earth.

[That's significantly less catchy, though. To Archie's question, he answers:]

Some of it is. That, and that.

[He points to the latkes, and to the challah bread.]

[he laughs at the name, but, well... it's not inaccurate.]

Hoenn works just as well. [he doesn't really follow a religion, though certainly believes in gods. you can't not when one screams in your face.] I know the lat...kes. Latkes.

[he takes a sip of his own wine, mildly worried that him only knowing the basics of their beliefs is annoying. hmmm.]

It-- it looks good. Nice job, bro. Thanks for the invite.

A jew, a fairy, and an animal wrangler.

( Hmm. That sounds like the start of a different joke. But she tilts a glass in salute before offering it to whoever'll take it- )

Yeah. Thanks, Alfie.

( It's no less meant for the fact that she remains awkward as hell at expressing herself when she can't do it in a poem. )

Well. I'm gonna assume, right, that none of us had anything better to do tonight, or otherwise we would not be here.

[He forks a couple of latkes onto his plate, then pushes the serving platter towards Archie.]

Aye, them animals can wait for their wranglin' until tomorrow.

[he is gonna GET SOME OF THAT FOOD!!! and wine. definitely the wine, before passing it all over to gwen.]

I'm going to feel scandalized if there's no fun adventure after this. There's a cave on Heropa bay that looks suspiciously like the resting place of an ancient relic, is all I'm sayin'.

Narrative convention says I nick any relics and hide them at the bottom of a lake, ( pointing at Archie with a fork. ) Don't take me on adventures, I'll take all your shit.

( Fairies, man.

To be fair, Gwen has never stolen anything in her life, other than that one time she robbed a bank. And there might be some semantic disagreements about the nature of certain romantic liaisons. Nevertheless. )

Narrative convention says all sorts of things. What do you say?

[It's lightly said, but he also means it.]

Archie, Archie - is this cave underwater? Surely you aren't suggesting scuba-diving.

... A little.

[he swirls his wine in the glass.]

It's about the journey, anyway. Not so much the lovely lady who steals the bounty at the end.

See, it's about the journey. I could say anything. Like for instance, 'I am actually built for the water, it would literally be tragic watching you swim next to me'.

( She is a deflection ninja. And a cheap drunk, so brace yourselves. )

And I make a point not to swim to underwater caves, I'm afraid. Not to swim much at all, if I can help it.

[he cackles a little, only slightly awkward. maybe he can slip into the kitchen and chug this wine out the bottle...]

I'd take it! Ah, I tried.

I,

( magnanimously, wine-glass in one hand swaying in the manner of one holding court, )

would not steal treasure from a man with a limp who can't swim.

( Score one for morals! )

I can swim. I choose not to.

[he downs the rest of his glass, hastily pouring another.]

Man with a limp who can swim, [he corrects, laughing despite himself.] Sorry, Alf. Pirate.

[...he would not do that because he's a pathetic pirate, but he can pretend.]

Oh, if you can swim, I'll totally steal all your stuff.

( This is a lie. )

And here I have invited you to my home, on this special day.

[He spreads his arm wide to indicate everything - the table with the food, the lit menorah in the corner.]

Can't trust anyone anymore; it's fucking shameful.]

I honestly don't know what anyone expected.

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