sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Saints & Sinners Masquerade

[MINGLE] Saints & Sinners Masquerade

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.

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, you think?" She replies sarcastically. "I'm going to freeze my tits off in this, where did they take my clothes?" Hawke has no idea that he isn't aware of what's going on around them, so when she turns to see him, all she knows is he's staring at said tits. Honestly, any other time she'd just laugh at him, but she's feeling a little exposed at the moment. A lot exposed.

"Oi! I didn't say to look at them." Hawke's accent sounds vaguely British to Earthers, and slightly crisp upper class, but the bad language was all Kirkwall. So is the reaction, which is to smack him right across the face. Honestly, it's lucky she doesn't punch him, her go-to reaction to things, but she's been trying not to kill people here. Really hard. And that means not starting real fights. So he only gets a slap instead. It's a rough one though. She has impressive arm strength.

Edited 2018-11-03 01:13 (UTC)

By the time he realises that something's happened to her clothes and his eyes are somewhere they shouldn't be and he's half a second away from things getting ugly, it's too late. He almost loses his food as the slap cracks across his cheek.

Oh Lord my God, why hath thou forsaken thine faithful servant?

"I- wasn't!" Matt backs up a bit, putting some unknown amount of distance between them. He looks vaguely apologetic rubbing his cheek. Ow.

"I'm sorry." He raises one hand in surrender. Please don't hit him again. "I wasn't- I- let me get you a jacket." He's been here a week and he's now the town pervert. That's just great.

Hawke stares suspiciously at him. Well. There isn't a crime for staring. Probably. Sh doesn't know the laws here. And he did apologize, which most perverts she knows never really did. He backed away from potential danger with his hands up, which was smart. She decides to untwist the panties and take pity on the idiot. There are worst offenses than staring at a good set of breasts. "Fine, you're forgiven. But don't go staring at people like that, someone might give you more than a slap."

She is definitely going to be cold soon, but she sees no jacket in sight. "Why didn't you change into anything?" Hawke spots a few other outrageous costumes happening, but not on this bloke.

"I can't-" help it? No, that won't come out right. And 'I can't see them' is possibly somehow even worse than 'I can't help it'. "I'm sorry," he just says. Again. A little more meekly, this time.

Matt's grabbing at actual straws, because he's in an actual field, so that's not really helping. He's looking for some fabric of some sort, groping around for something that wasn't the tablecloth. When he latches onto a coat which might not even be his, he gives it a tentative tug before taking it off the back of a stool, offering it an inch to the left of her with his head pointedly turned away from her body.

"Was there a dress code?" He lowers his head and smooths his hands down the front of his shirt. What's everyone else wearing?

Hawke stares at him, which is rude too, but he's groping around and not really looking at her or where he's groping. Her eyes narrow slightly. Something's off. She can't put her finger on what. She's not super comfortable with meekness, too used to being boisterous and loud. She shrugs it off and lowers her tone and general aggressiveness since, damn, he looks more than a bit helpless.

She takes the coat from him and smiles, because alright, it's a little sweet he did that considering she slapped him. The people in this place are too nice, it makes her itchy. "Apparently. I found these new clothes on my bed at the inn and thought great, why not, and they looked completely ordinary. But they just turned into this monstrosity out of no where. Definitely magic." Hawke likes magic, when it's used for her, and hates magic, when it's used against her. "I suppose they could've just made us all naked if they wanted to. I'd almost prefer it." She returns her attention to him. "But you look normal. Ish. Outside of the staring."

He's not about to tell a complete stranger that his ex-not-ex-and-sort-of-undead-it's-complicated-girlfriend found his stash and so graciously offered to help to dress him, but she probably did find them on the bed so they must have all gotten something. As he tugs at the hem of his shirt, he's pretty sure he's wearing the same thing as what he'd left the house with, so he's not sure what she's talking about there. He would have given her some serious side-eye with the magic talk, but then, you know. He can't.

"It's. A little cold, for streaking." Running around naked is not an idea Matt would endorse even if it was the middle of summer.

"I'm blind," he hears himself say. Like saying it aloud makes it even more real, or something. "But otherwise normal-looking. I hope."

"Eh. I've gone swimming naked in colder than this. Terrible experience and I had a cold for a month. So I'm not endorsing it, it's just not impossible to get through." Hawke has so many stories, and that one in particular was more bloody and dangerous than it sounded. But she's trying hard not to start out conversations with tales about her fights and killing expeditions. It's not very civil, as funny as some of them ended up being.

Hawke looks at him with slight horror, because she can be a real twat, but she always feels terrible about it when it's pointed in the wrong direction. "Bollocks. I'm a bitch. Sorry about the slap." She'd be suspicious if it was anyone else, but considering his clueless behavior, it does all line up perfectly. Or imperfectly. She knows the last thing anyone wants in that situation is too much attention brought to it or pity, neither of which she intends to do.

"I'm Hawke. You are normal looking, yeah, clothes wise, you're a handsome gent but I assume you know that already." He might be blind, but other people would've told him by now. "So what's going on is that we were all wearing normal clothes and in a snap we're now in these ridiculous costumes. I think they're costumes, like a masquerade. I've got no idea what this is, but I think it's supposed to be a ... sexy ... warrior? Fake armor and a lot of skin showing."

"O-oh." He's not sure what else to say to that. He's really not as perverse as he must be coming across but somehow it keeps getting worse.

Resisting the urge to touch his hot cheek, he forces out a small smile and tries to reassure her with a quiet 'it's okay, don't worry about it'. He can't really say it happens all the time? But at least he's more sure than he was before that he should maybe give being a hermit a proper go once tonight is over.

"Thanks." Maybe? She did just hit him pretty hard and this is more awkward now than it really had to be. Between that and the compliment he's kind of getting mixed messages. He doesn't quite understand what she means by 'in a snap' but he's trying to keep up, brows furrowing and nodding right up until she describes her outfit to him.

"...oh."

Oh.

"Is this... one of those parties?"

Oh. No. No... no. He can't get out of here fast enough.

Hawke has a talent for talking and talking and it really does all connect eventually. Most people are uncomfortable with small talk, but not her. She could do it all day. Plus she really did feel bad for hitting him. It's not that she could have known he's blind and all, but she's supposed to be less violent to others around here. She got the sense most of them didn't play as hard as she and her mates did.

She's completely confused, eyebrows furrowing. "What kind of parties?" She's been to masquerades before, so yeah, that sounds about right. Does that mean something else to him? "Costume party? Cause yeah. But people're in all kinds of things." Hawke glances around. "Someone's in this insane monster looking thing, head's covered, some lucky bloody people get robes and shite. I wonder who I pissed off to end up in this." She doesn't understand his distress, he looks perfectly normal!

Luckily, Matt hadn't explained what he meant by 'one of those parties' or she might slap him on his other cheek as well. He'd just thought that with what she was wearing, this was a more... adult? Affair, but clearly that wasn't the case. His cheeks are hot, tinged a deep shade and he scratches under his eye awkwardly, trying to backpedal out of this.

There's not even a way to compliment her that wouldn't come across as Matt unintentionally being a creep, so he bites his lip.

"Would you like to change into something else? We could. Ask around." Or she could go back to her place, or. Whatever.

Few things amused Hawke more than a blusher, and if he was anyone else, if she knew him even a little, she'd tease him about it just to see if he blushed more. She loves teasing others, but it's typically a move of affection, and she's learned to avoid it with strangers. It's adorable though, and she grins at him. It's too bad he can't see it, and she's not dealt with the blind frequently. She doubts saying out loud 'grin!' would be helpful.

"If you only know how difficult it is for me not to crack a joke about you trying to get my clothes off, mate. But you seem flustered, I'd hate to make it worse." Damn, she didn't resist, but she hopes that's a reasonable level of teasing. Explaining it instead of simply joking about the changing her clothes is probably more helpful. A lot of humor is in visuals for her, like the twinkle in her eye or a smile.

"What's your name? I'm Hawke."

He might not be the greatest lady-killer around these parts but he's usually a little more composed than this. It's a combination of many things not going right that's left him rather defenseless standing in front of her looking the awkward side of blank staring right through her.

"Matthew." He doesn't go for handshakes or anything, even more so now that he can't sense extended hands.

"I was just- I thought you might be uncomfortable." A small shrug. She might not know him but more often than not Matt could simply be passed off as a concerned third party.

"Nice to meet you, Matthew, unfair slapping in the face notwithstanding." Hawke considers taking his hand for a shake, but it seems better not to startle him at the moment. And she's learned to respect other people's physical space after too many snarls from Fenris over the years.

"I know, I'm sorry, you're very sweet, and I have this constant urge to tease people. My friend Aveline often introduces me to new people with the caveat that I'll grow on them eventually." Hawke likes people. She's very social, but has been deprived of social contact for months before getting here. She at least has the good sense to be sheepish about her lack of social graces. "Let's spin this around, love, can I get you a drink? More to eat? It's the least I can do."

"...yeah. Sure. I'd love a drink." Maybe three, if he's going to get through tonight somehow. Maybe there'll be less awkwardness when he's not frustrating himself over all the social cues he's missing out on. He's probably coming across as a lot more uptight than he is normally. (Not that he'd ever describe himself as uptight, despite what others might think of him)

"Thank you." He's not sure what they have here so he'll take anything she's willing to get for him.

"Brilliant! Hold on, I think they might have ...." Hawke sniffs around and brightens, getting a glass for herself and for him. It isn't even her birthday. "Rum! It's not even that terrible liquor they apparently make in bathrooms here. It smells like something that'll poison your insides. It tasted worse." So she drank that despite the smell, but this at least is divine in comparison. She's going to drink her weight in it tonight, probably. Waste not, want not.

"Here. It'll be good for you." She puts the cup in his hand carefully. "They might have wine if you'd prefer that, I can look around." Wine's too light for her, it'd just make her sleepy. "You seem a bit like a wine person." She's not saying he's uptight, she's just thinking it.

He was half-expecting water or juice or something so rum takes him by surprise. His eyebrows rise and his lips part to start to say something, but then she's putting a glass in his hand and he just breaks out a smile. Matt doesn't even want to ask about what who is distilling where in whose bathroom, that just sounds disgusting.

"Cheers," he says softly before taking a small sip. He's a bit of a lightweight and being blind is disorienting enough without being drunk on top of that.

"It's alright, I can drink this." He is a wine person, how did she guess? He used to have stronger preferences for things when he could taste all the different flavours. Now he's just content with everything being bland.

"...did you say someone is making moonshine in the bathroom?"

Hawke smiles warmly because she's always glad when she rights an awkward situation. Also she has a habit of adopting people as her friends whether they like it or not. Slapping someone is not the worst start to a friendship she has. Several of her friends tried to kill her first! "I'm glad you like it."

Hawke looks over her shoulder at the food table. "I don't know if we'll be able to take all of this with us. We should at least try that. Liquor's so rare that they have to make it in disgusting ways, which means ... yeah I think that's what they were doing. Desperate times and desperate measures." She really would rather not go back to that when she's now enjoying something much more her speed. If she closes her eyes she can imagine she's at the Hanged Man. This party is more like that than the village is.

"So, love, which of the worlds are you from? Or are you from a brand new one?"

"Uh..." He's not really sure what the correct answer is to that. Earth? The Solar System? Does it have a scientific name or numeric designation? He wouldn't know it. This is a good distraction from the toilet moonshine even if he doesn't really know the answer.

So he just defaults to what he does know. "...my city's called New York." He's from the same place as Tony, Bruce, Karen, Elektra, Frank, Danny, and no doubt more people he has yet to meet. "It's uh... different. Noisier. Tall buildings. Traffic. Construction. Very commercial."

Hawke waits and considers a moment. "There's a lot of you from there, yeah? That's the world? I know there's one that has cities like that and some magical folks." She grimaces. "Sorry, you don't call it magic, if I remember right. Some other word that basically means the same thing, being able to do extraordinary things other people can't." It's not that she minds the lingo is different, it's just that hearing magic seems to confuse some people, when they were on some bizarre island in the middle of no where. That's a bit odder than magic.

"My sister's a mage. I, alas, am but a humble human." With advanced fighting skills and extraordinary marskmanship. She's been trying very hard not to bring up killing things with strangers. Not everyone's as comfortable with the violent stories as she is. "What about you, Matthew? Any magic or ... whatever you lot call it?"

"It's a fairly busy city, yeah." He's not sure about 'magic' but. Close enough. He knows a few gifted people even if he's hesitant to call himself one. Their lives were often complicated enough with said 'gifts'.

"No. I'm pretty boring," he adds with a self-depreciating smile. His life had been anything but before he came here, but now that he's here and has time for a breather... he doesn't have any gifts or magic to speak of, either.

"What do you do, as a magician? Just-... travel?" He's thinking kid's birthday parties or some kind of show in Vegas, but he didn't want to offend in case she only means 'magic' as in special abilities.

"You're not boring. You don't need powers to be interesting. Some people with powers are the least interesting folks I know." Most of the time they were flat out dickheads, but she doesn't need to get into that. Hawke's spent too much time with them, to be honest. It's refreshing to have 'normal' people around, although many of them only are because they lost abilities. Hawke pats him on the shoulder in a friendly light way. He isn't boring! He's put up with a lot of her already tonight, and that takes a great deal of patience.

"Travel?" She's puzzled. "Yeah, we travel and all, but I mean as in magic. Spells and the like. My sister can control the elements and heal, she's still learning some other things." Hawke's proud of her. The whole situation with the circle was a nightmare of hers, but Bethany did get to bond with other mages and that's something. "She never got to learn much about how to do things, she was tiny when our father died, and he was the only mage in the family, so until recently it was a lot of guess work."

Well, he thinks he's boring in other ways too, but he doesn't go into it, flashing her a slow-forming smile. He's not sure what to make about spells like... fireballs or whatever that entails, so he just nods as she talks and hopes he doesn't look too confused.

"I'm sorry to hear that, about your father."

"It was a long time ago. He was a good man and did his best by us, while he could." Hawke remembers him fondly. It wasn't the best situation, being a child of an apostate mage, and having one of their own, but it's not as if she can be sorry that her sister was born. She didn't think of him much now outside of some affection, because death was such a major part of her life. The deaths that stuck with her were the ones that she caused.

"What about your family? You got one that'll worry about you back home?"

"...yeah." He tilts his head and nods, giving her a tight-lipped smile that reaches his eyes. He's... made his peace with that.

"I never knew my mother. Until recently." They can never catch up on lost time, but he had been planning on reconnecting. Now that they're here though, he's not sure if she's waiting for him. If she even notices or if he's not himself or in two places at once somehow or... however this works.

"Was hoping to get to know her, actually. And then this happened."

Hawke listens, her eyes sympathetic. While her father died some time ago, her mother's death was still very fresh. As much as it pains her to think of her, she still wouldn't change having her around. Even if sometimes she had wished she'd stay out of her personal life a bit more! Ah, mothers.

"I'm sorry, love. I don't entirely know how all of this works, but I've heard in some cases people merely go back without missing any time at all. Don't know if they have any memories or not when they do, and it might not be all cases, but still. There's that option." The problem is there's no way to force it to happen. Otherwise some of them might have already.

"Sorry if this is personal, you can tell me fuck off Hawke, but we're having drinks and sometimes people talk over drinks. How'd you get to your age without knowing her?" He's no spring chicken after all.

[MINGLE] Saints & Sinners Masquerade

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Sounds good :D