[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

[3ofswords]

He shrugs - it wasn't really his form he was asking after. "If you ever want it hand-delivered, I still take shifts by the tubes." And if she didn't, well, he has more than enough coats to justify burning the old parka.

Pouring none of the vodka into a glass, he sniffs the open bottle just to remember what it's like, not inhaling paint thinner before a direct sip. In this weather, it's well-chilled and tastes like starchy, burning clarity - of which it provides none.

"It's an annoying thing, when I'm here and alive right now. And it's just - more wood on the already burning pile. I don't want to add the past to the present mindfuck."

[digging]

"If you're already going down there, yeah. Just stick it back on the shelf for me." Even shoved in the back of a drawer, having that blood around is just asking for an awkward confrontation.

Licking the bourbon lingering at the corners of her mouth, Karen leans back against the table and considers the crowd as she picks apart the bigger picture of what Kira's said. "I guess that makes sense, but you have to know he's not going to thank you for it." They never do, in her experience. "At least you know he cares. Maybe he's using your possible death as the thing he fixates on while he processes the whole clone thing, because that's moderately less of a mindfuck, even if they're technically connected."