[MINGLE] Saints & Sinners Masquerade

[sixthiteration]

WHERE: Corn field next to the inn
WHEN: 31 October, all day and night
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Please warn as appropriate in your subject lines
NOTES: Please make sure you have read and understand the event details! If you have questions, drop them here. RECOMMENDED BUT NOT REQUIRED: Put your SCRUBS COLOR in your OTA subject line for folks doing bingo. Time your OTA for the harvest feast, the masquerade, or both. Costume matches and details for folks who did not get matched are here.

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This morning, our intrepid villagers awoke to a surprise of the nicer kind: A bundle of clothing left at the foot of their bed, tied with a bow. There is also a note: Put on your new outfit and join the festivities in the corn field next to the inn.

You may be thinking, what corn field next to the inn? The one that sprung up fully-mature overnight, of course.

In the middle of the field, villagers will find an autumn feast: Tables piled with harvest time food and drink, warm and rustic decorations, the day's sunshine fending off any chill in the air.

Tuck in and enjoy, villagers, but take note: Things often look different in the dark, and you might be one of them.

Comments

[unraisehell]

"You do got the booty, that is true," Wynonna agrees. "But you do get to use my brilliant facehugging line- sometimes we have to suffer for the good things in life."

She refills her own mug of cider, and holds it close, clearly comfortable and cozy as fuck. Totally not gloating.

[nonstopnarcissist]

"I work hard to keep looking this good. It isn't cheap." Or easy, standing up next to several examples of human fucking perfection on his team but- he manages. Mostly. Through sheer force of will, manic work binges, and yoga.

Lots of yoga.

"Not sure who I'll flip that one on- they'd have to get the reference and it seems like that pool is small. Also Bruce has been making sad eyes at me about the casual promiscuity thing. So." Trying to be better about it. Trying.

[unraisehell]

"So what's the deal with you and him, anyway?" Wynonna asks, with her usual level of tact, which is, obviously, none at all. "You're like lesbian ex-girlfriends at a science fair."

[nonstopnarcissist]

"...that is horribly specific." Highly. Disturbingly so. "What do you mean 'what's the deal'? We're friends."

Housemates. Bruce is one of the truest friends Tony has, period, and the closest he's got in the village.

[unraisehell]

"Specific, but accurate," she counters, casually pulling out one of her purse-stashed hors d'oeuvres and taking a bite of it.

Look if the Observers didn't want her doing that, they wouldn't have given her a purse. Especially when dressing her as food.

"Alright, cool. Good to know. Not that I'm going to make moves on him, we've already exchanged tragic backstories, and I don't mix my emotional and physical intimacies." At least, not easily.

[nonstopnarcissist]

"We've never dated. We're- close? Heterosexual life partners- no that's Rhodey." Tony braces one taloned hand on his hip, chewing on what exactly he and Bruce are other than friends. Close friends. Someone he trusts, cares, and feels affection for.

Someone he kind of loves.

It's complicated while being one of the easiest relationships he's ever had. Which- should be weird. It's weird that he doesn't find it weird. "...Compartmentalization probably isn't healthy. Except I do that too, so-"

Pot, kettle.

[unraisehell]

"Not compartmentalizing got me pregnant with my great-great grandfather's hetero life partner's baby," Wynonna counters, using the napkin she'd wrapped the sausage roll in to dust off the pastry crumbs.

"For me, it's healthy."

[nonstopnarcissist]

"..." The shit that comes out of her mouth sometimes. "...Your life is so fucking weird, Wyn-o."

Every time he thinks he's got a metric for how strange her life, her world is? She opens her mouth.

[unraisehell]

"I know, right?" she says, laughs, and throws back a drink. "OK, neither of us are going to get laid in these costumes, I think we should shift our focus to getting me white-girl wasted. You're in charge of keeping my hair clean."

[nonstopnarcissist]

"Why do you get to get wasted? What if I wanted to get wasted. You calling dibs on it is frankly unfair." Because if he's holding hair back he can't hit anything harder than the cider.

Then again, he's on stilts. So. Being the more sober one is probably a good idea.

[unraisehell]

"I'm dressed like fucking broccoli. You're at least something fun." Movies are fun. Broccoli, despite its culinary versatility for sauce delivery, is never fun.

"But you can get wasted at the Christmas party. I actually really like Christmas, so remembering it might be nice."

[nonstopnarcissist]

"...fair point. I don't hate Christmas but December's a rough month for me." Which is more than reason enough to agree to the tradeoff. "Alright. Let's see if we can't find you something stronger than moonshine on the table."