maskormenacelogs | [ open ] jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

Entry tags:

[ open ] jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

WHO: OPEN.
WHERE: De Chima.
WHEN: Saturday, December 13th, 2014.
WHAT: Earlier in the afternoon, there will be base-jumping in elf costumes. Later on is the charity silent date auction and different performances by USA celebrities fundraising for charity this holiday season. OOC information post here.
WARNINGS: None now, will update later. To avoid seeing all the silent auction threads, simply press on the (Hide ## comments) under the header comment for the auction section!

[ BASE JUMPING from TARTARUS TOWER ]
For those imPorts who volunteered to jump from Tartarus Tower, arrivals for fittings into their costumes begins at 2:00 PM sharp. Each costume comes with a name-tag attached, and make-up artists are on hand to help affix elf ears to participants and work on their eye make-up for the ease of the cameras catching all this live.

The jumps will start at 4:00 PM, and after all imPort elves have jumped and successfully reached the ground, they'll join the bus transporting presents and Malik to the De Chima children's hospital to deliver gifts to the children in the cancer ward (and elsewhere). ImPorts will then be transported over to the main facilities for the fundraiser event as a whole, invited to attend the Silent Date Auction as well as listen to any of the various performances occurring over the course of the evening.

[ CHARITY SILENT DATE AUCTION in DE CHIMA ]
Starting at 4:00 PM, the doors to the conference hall made available for the ImPort Charity Silent Date Auction will open. Live music will be provided, along with refreshments and catered hor d'oeuvres, and televisons displaying both the news stories and live coverage of the fundraiser events occurring over the course of the evening. ImPorts will be encouraged to attend any of these performances in person, but will not be required to leave the conference hall unless they wish to do so.

There is lounge seating available, and free wireless throughout the building. Different conference halls are hosting different events in this event center, and the largest productions are happening on a built stage outside. There's a massive lit tree in the central front courtyard of the event center, and many small stands selling hot drinks, good foods, and wares outside by the stage and surrounding streets, all with a portion of proceeds going to various named charities.

Please comment to this log with your own starters! Only the Auction Thread will be set-up under its own sub-thread, for ease of tracking. Auction Threads can be threaded in, but initial comments to those threads should be the bids that a character is placing on someone else (or themselves). Bidding will close OOCly by this time next week (or when a player states bidding is closed on their character - send me a PM to close that thread, or comment to close it on your own). ICly, all bids close at the end of the night.

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[Nice if it snowed, yes, Will seems to agree with that one. Granted, Will is in damn warm clothing and is used to Virginia in its colder days, doesn't have to worry about the problems that might arise due to lack of cover like with Winry's dress. He nods, visibly agrees that it would be nice if it snowed, and then has to find a way to say that without it sounding like he prefers anything else but sunny because he's a grumpy, sad, lonely guy who has problems with anything joyous.]

Depends on the situation. [Welcome to the glorious world of non-answers, Winry. Still, he can fish in either environment. Just has to adapt before he goes out.] But snow can be easier to adjust to, and...it's nice [That word doesn't sound like it's a common one in Will's vocabulary, but he's trying.] to have a reason to stay in, get some work done or cozy up with the dogs. What about you?

[Snow lets people get away with not leaving the house.

Snow is fucking awesome. To Will. Is it to Winry, who had her little beach party, someone more social than him? Is it more of a pain than a blessing? Is there a time and a place for not dealing with people in her book, too? As shifty as his answer might be, he does lift an eyebrow when he asks.

Genuine interest in her answer; people like that, returned interest instead of plowing through "getting to know you talk" with a look that makes them feel like the other party is positively bored to death and showing it. He's not bored at all with her, with this conversation, and doing his best to show as much. Inclusive. Turning a new leaf before the new year isn't unheard of!]

[Winry takes the time to consider her answer, because she can tell Will finds it somehow important.] I liked the snow when I was younger [and she shrugs, showing that she knows Will's older than she is; most of her friends here in this world are], because we could go out and play in it. If it was deep enough, that is! We'd sled and have snowball fights and make snowmen.

But not so long ago, I was up north in my world, and it was...very cold. The snow was pretty deep, and I wasn't prepared for it. I wasn't prepared for a lot of things in Briggs. [Not to say the least, finding out she was a hostage to keep Ed in line, and, afterward, that she had to work with the man who killed her parents to escape being a hostage.]

So...I do like the snow, but the memories. They aren't always the best.

I've never been someplace where it snowed so much I couldn't go out, but...it was great, when I was little, when we'd come in from the cold and Granny had the fire lit, and we had hot mulled cider to drink. And we'd rest, and play indoor games, or read, or nap in front of the fire.

[And her smile is bittersweet.]

[Will knows he's an old fart; Winry won't ever have to worry about making him feel older. He's well-aware of his decrepit, ancient age around teenagers.

She might be saying too terribly much about what Briggs, about what it is that makes the memories not the best, but she's saying enough for Will Graham. He can still walk and talk, can listen, but the environment around them morphs. Snow so deep that she wasn't prepared for it, a cold that pierces and stings and burns hot, ambushed by a climate that required previous consideration and, for whatever reason, that hadn't happened. It's entirely possible that line of thought, ambush leading into something like betrayal is projection on his end, insertion. It's possible the spatters of blood he adds to that deep snow weren't there, but everything's been quite tainted. They show up anyway.

And then it changes again, those blood stains wiped out and a cabin, the snow minimal, the cold present but easier to deal with, an old woman calling children in and perhaps having to put up with a few pouty faces because the snowman wasn't quite finished yet...that's the better thing to focus on here, isn't it. So what's the best thing to focus on within that?

Well, everyone likes food.]

Have you ever had peach cider? [He asks after a moment of silence, the environment going back to what it was and therefore not as notable, Will looking back at her with the attempted smile a reflection of Winry's. Mirror image of bittersweet, though narrowing in on the sweet instead.] Most people use in apples in their cider. I'm assuming that's what you meant, too.

[There is a hint of apology in his tone—assuming can lead to wrong conclusions on a constant basis, he's open to being corrected. If his assumption is a silly stupid thing, hopefully she can forgive him.]

Peach cider? [Winry's eyes go wide at the suggestion.]

That sounds amzing! I'd love to try it.

[Is her mouth watering at the idea? It might be, indeed.]

I love peaches.

[And there's a soft thrum of remembrance in those final three words, something like a memory of joy, or a pleasant daydream.]

[There's the ticket. Everybody likes good food, don't they? The ones who have to consume it, at any rate. Having had a vampire for a housemate did good at stretching a more open mind. Winry's mouth might be watering at the idea, but Will's isn't. The way his lips twist is all in reaction to her, the amazement, the delight, nothing else.]

It's far sweeter than the kind made with apples. [A Captain Obvious statement? Perhaps it could be taken that way, but it means that the process of making it is a little different. More of a balancing act. If it ends up too sweet, then it's not going to be too successful. If it ends up so dulled that it's more peach-flavored than peach cider, it's not going to be too successful, either.] Depending on how it's made, that is. Some people like it sweeter than others, but if it's all sweet...don't want it to rot teeth.

[His fingers twitch in his pockets, shoulders lifting as he breathes in deeper, focus scattered while he gathers his thoughts. Being sociable is not that bad, no. But now he's trying to think of where this can be gotten, exactly.]

Did your granny teach you how to make her cider?

[Is there anything better than homemade? Rarely. Homemade and passed down from one generation to another? Can't be beat.]

It sounds wonderful! [Winry's imagining it, too, with a slightly tart taste that peaches don't normally have, sort of like a tangy peach soda. Unconsciously, she licks her lips at the idea.]

Yes, Granny taught me how to make nearly everything she knew. We didn't have our own cider press, though. We traded with the neighbors to get the juice to turn into cider.

[That's better, good to hear. It's rather difficult to be his usual, one-second-from-full-blown-frowning self with her enthusiasm, with the atmosphere, with someone who seems to have fond memories of her upbringing. He's not someone who puts a pep in his step, but Winry makes it almost impossible for him to not, at least, straighten up like he's on the verge of it.]

I'm sure I can get together a recipe, if you want to try making it yourself. [Otherwise...possible long road trip, borrowing Freddie's car or with Freddie herself? It's not unthinkable or undesirable, but if it can be worked out so Winry can do it on her own, might be even better.] Wouldn't be hard to find whatever equipment you'd need, would it?

[This place can fix him up in timing he'd never have been able to make back home. Surely they can get a hold of items he'd consider basic or common, even if he doesn't actively think of them or use them. Right?]

It sounds like a lot of fun! [Oh, but wait. It's the wrong time of year for peaches.] I guess I'll have to wait for the peaches to come ripe again. [She'd seen them being hauled around in the back of pick up trucks, parked on the side of the road with signs reading, 'Fresh GA Peaches!', whatever 'GA' meant.]

I'd have to get a cooker...that wouldn't be too hard. I'd need to see the recipe.

[His brow furrows; for a moment, his first thought goes into suggesting finding peaches elsewhere. Some far off island where they are grown year-round and are twice as big as usual. But that is 1) expensive and 2) goes back to certain people he'd rather not think about, so it gets canned.

It shows, though. Mouth opening to say something, closing when he thinks better of it.]

Season's not too far away. [He opts for instead. Apparently, to Will, several months isn't too far away. He's been here long enough to know that people can go at any time, certainly, but...he's been here long enough to expect he's not going anywhere for a while. He has nowhere to go. Nothing wrong with setting up the potential for peach cider in that case, right?] You want me to pass it along when I get it written up? Give you time to get everything you'd need?

[Look, Ma, he's helping.]

[Not too far away? Five months? Six? Winry smiles, though, understanding Will's trying to help.]

I'd love that, thank you!

[Though whatever she'd need, Ed could probably make for her, if she couldn't make it herself.]

[He's been here for eight months, what's another five or six? He's pretty sure he'd get in a hell of a lot of trouble if he disappeared again anyway, no reason to act like he's going anywhere. He doesn't intend to. Nowhere to go.

Infectious, contagious, enthusiastic kid. How does she maintain it? How does anyone maintain it? Hell if Will knows.]

That's what I'll do, then. [After he takes a long nap to recover from the social-ness of this entire evening.] Did you put yourself for bidding?

[Will, who so frequently does whatever the hell it takes to stay away from all situations involving people, finds throwing out a name to go out on a mystery "date" an extreme punishment if done without the other party knowing it. Anyone who puts themselves in that ringer, for whatever reason...well, it's somewhat impressive.]

[It's in her nature. She's just a happy young woman, Will.] Great!

[And then at his question, Winry glances sideways, her smile a bit awkward for the first time, and she shrugs. Because she was hoping someone in particular would bid for her, but he seems awfully dense, and not getting the idea.]

It's for a good cause.

[Yeah, right. Until the scary dude from back home wins her.]

[Being happy seems so exhausting, though!

He follows that glance, tries to see what or who she might be looking at, one eyebrow cocked up when the answer finally comes. For a good cause. Is that the motivation behind most of those names up there, a good cause? Is that Winry being sincere or falling back on the easiest thing to parrot? He's not sure, but it's rude to ask, imply that there's some sort of lie going on. That's very rude and speaks more to Will than it does to her; projection isn't exactly something people quite enjoy, is it?]

Seems to be. [He hadn't done a damn lick of research into what the charity was about, just popped in to take care of his own business. That's Will parroting the easiest thing to fall back on, shrugging.] Kind of nice to see all these charity events lately. Maybe it'll keep up.

[And everyone can have a blind date with everyone else in six months' time, what's wrong with that.

...oh wait.]

And I thought it'd be a good way to meet people. [Look, she met you, didn't she? So, it works.] And ask questions, like...have you seen a seven-foot tall suit of armor?

[She sounds hopeful, though not really.]

My best friend, Ed. He and his brother came here together, but Al vanished. We hope he went back home, but it's.

[Her mouth crimps for an instant, but her expression smooths out.]

Well. We hope he's back home!

Edited (laptop likes to add extra 'l's in words.) 2015-01-11 21:20 (UTC)

[A seven-foot tall suit of armor? No, Will hasn't ever seen one, his face makes that obvious. But that soon ceases to be the focal point, even someone who pretends to be as socially inept as Will Graham can see that. While he's not the most joyous or comforting person around, perhaps recent experience can combat that. Perhaps it's less about how he says it and more what he says.]

I went home. [Quiet, his steps slowing. Not standing still but significantly slower than they'd bee before.] I was here for...over six months. One day I woke up back where I belong without any memory of being here, and then...I was here again. [He knows people don't always believe that it happens, though he's not sure why. The two from his world who experienced the same thing, well. They came back in a different physical state. So did Will. He might point to them if it ever became too contested.] Don't see why he wouldn't be back home.

[It can be a comforting thought at the same time it can be a horrifying one—at least, in Will's world, that's rather the case. But mightn't it be better for those who leave to be thought of, at least, back where they belong, even if where they belong isn't...the kindest?]

That's good to know. [Said soberly. But she reaches out to Will, laying her hand on his forearm. And smiles.] Thank you for telling me! I'll share it with Ed, if you don't...if it's all right with you.

Al back home... [Her expression is distant. Her 'home' is here, now. With Ed, and her dog, Zoey. And the people she meets here. At least until she finds out if she's dead or not.] I like to think that he's all right. And not worried about us!

[Whether she notices Will's slowed down, she doesn't say anything, just ambles along beside him.]

[Her hand on his forearm gets a look—not upset by it, just a second's glance to acknowledge it's there. That's not something he's used to, either, but it's nothing truly alarming. Some people like to make physical connection, so be it.

Ambling doesn't last too much longer on his end; Will slows to a stop, looking down at his feet for a second as though checking to make sure the ground exists. Good to be grounded by something that can be seen for exactly what it is.]

It's all right with me. I'm not the—not the only one who's had experiences going home and coming back. [Awkward. Maybe that's all on his end, maybe it should stay that way, which is why he drops it there, doesn't offer a strained I'm sure he's fine and not worried about you at all. The smile is strained, but that's par for the course.] So...next time. You, me, and the dogs. Yeah?

[He's not good at making exits, he'll fall back on dogs. Again.]

Thank you, Will. You...it'll help. I can't explain how. But it will!

[Ed might be more relieved. Or something. To hear this.]

I hadn't met anyone else who'd gone and come back here.

[She smiles.] Yes, of course! I'll bring Zoey. Soon. So you can meet her.

[Perhaps Will notices it more considering it happened to the only two he knew from home within mere weeks of his arrival, but he's not about to go giving out those names. She seems complacent to take him at his word instead of ask for more, he'll gladly go along with it.]

I'm moving back to Heropa after this [one elbow nudges out—this meaning here, no] so I'll be around all the time instead of just for work.

[As if Will needed any reason to hang out other than a dog, but hey. He can pretend while giving something of a standing invitation.]

With your...print shop? [Didn't you make t-shirts or something?]

Great. I'll give you a call in the next week or so, so you and Zoey can meet.

[She thinks maybe Will needs a chance to be by himself for a little bit, and she ought to go check and make sure Ed hasn't done something stupid.]

[That gets a short laugh along the lines of a bark. He could see how that mistake would be made, and it's not wholly wrong—no one else has come to that conclusion to his face yet, though.]

Bait shop. [No scolding in his correction, too amused for that.] And I'll keep an ear out for it. [As if he's ever without his communicator in the first place.] Hope you have a good evening.

[One last look at the strap of her dress nearest him should indicate he's thinking more about having a warm evening than anything else, but no need to go jinxing the weather as it is. No need for everything to have been fine until a conversation about snow started and wouldn't quite go away. That's just testing fate, and Winry's arms don't deserve it.]

Bait shop. [Winry grins back.] And I'll let you know how the evening goes when I bring Zoey over!

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[ open ] jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

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