[MINGLE] Crab Boil

[markwatney]

WHO: Mark Watney
WHERE: 6I Inn front lawn
WHEN: 21 June 2018, afternoon/evening and onward
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
NOTES: A few thinsgs: You may assume your character helped set up; There are tubers in pot with the red salt, negating the warmth effect; The list of of potluck dishes is here; The list of local provisions is here

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The weather is great, the sun is starting to dip toward the horizon, and it's pleasantly mild. Time for an (extremely) old-fashioned low country boil.

We've got two small fire pits built out in front of the inn, each with a massive pot filled with loads of vegetables — corn, carrots, potatoes, onions — and of course the rainbow crabs Finnick and Annie discovered not long after we arrived here. We've even got salt, if you can believe it, although the red salt in this place is pretty spicy and usually makes me sweat, so I've only put it in the one pot, and then set a bowl of it out for garnishing.

Tables and chairs have been brought out from inside, a couple of them set aside specifically for piles of plates, bowls, cups and whatever potluck provisions the rest of the village brings.

Comments

[womanofvalue]

Peggy lets out a laugh at that, wishing that she still had enough alcohol to share around, but she's not giving up her emergency bottle of whiskey for anything. "I think that's just an excuse for you to learn the fine art of alcohol making. I know of at least three regiments that managed a still in Europe," she guarantees.

She'd never given them up to Phillips, mainly because she'd been so impressed with their ability to create something in the field. Not to mention, she always appreciated the free samples.

[freightcars]

He scoffs, a soft sound. He wouldn't put it past a few of his commandos to gather up the gumption to start up a still, but he's got no interest in taking the time or putting in the effort for it. The odds that he accidentally blows off his other arm somehow are way too high. Or maybe he'll wind up poisoning Steve accidentally in some cruel twist of ironic fate.

His expression reads the sentiment easily, a flat and unmotivated thing. "Think I'll pass, I doubt I could do any better."

[womanofvalue]

Honestly, she just wants someone to take up the charge, because if not, then she can foresee herself elbow-deep in parts in order to make something work that has a better chance of blowing up. So, really, Barnes has the safer idea here. "Probably smartest," she agrees, reaching over to set her cup down and giving his arm a gentle squeeze to offer her parting.

"I think I'm going to see what crabs are left, now that you've helped whet my appetite with liquor. Thanks muchly, once again," she says, with a pleased smile at him.