[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

[digging]

"Yeah, well, you know me, I've always been a sucker for stilettos," Karen replies with a softly-huffed laugh. It's possible he wouldn't actually know; she's never exactly pinned down what he saw and what he didn't. She thinks, though, he might notice if she was regularly towering over him, sight or not.

"The clothes changed," she offers, just in case. "Or some of them, anyway. One more thing on the list of ways this place is weird and kind of upsetting, but it could be worse. At least there's booze to go along with the impractical footwear."

[blindninja]

Sometimes in the rush of their lives he doesn't get to dwell on the details, but he does notice - what she wears, how she smells like. He worries when she hasn't slept or eaten even if he doesn't say as much. He knows when she's gone to places she shouldn't go and talk to people she shouldn't be talking to in order to get her story.

But it's hard to draw that line between being a concerned friend and being overly protective and stalking her every move, so more often than not he finds himself drifting and saying nothing instead.

"I didn't know." This time, out here, he can't tell any of those things. He can't even tell if she's there or not if she's not talking or doing something noisy. "I could. Go fetch some shoes, or something?"

[digging]

Another quiet laugh pushes from Karen's throat, and she shakes her head before catching herself — It's an odd thing, to have gone from having to consciously remind herself that Matt can't see her, to not, to back again.

"It's fine," she promises. "I put on some boots. I don't know how well they go with the ball gown that replaced my jeans, but I'll just have to risk the fashion faux pas."

There's an empty table nearby, and she touches Matt's arm just above the elbow. "You want to sit down? Maybe get a drink? There's actual, bona fide scotch."

[blindninja]

He moves his arm a little when she touches him, still getting used to the fact that he can't perceive them coming anymore. Any other potential sign of discomfort that she might have read into him is offset by his smile.

"Yeah. Actually. Scotch sounds good." And he can actually have a drink for once without his senses going haywire.

"I am a bit of a lightweight though." Maybe just one finger or two, or she'll have to carry him home in those boots instead.

[digging]

"You're a lightweight?" Karen echoes with a soft scoff, and reaches for his hand so she can lift it to her elbow and she can guide them both over to the table. "Is this a new thing, a here thing?"

It's a little strange to realize, but she's never actually stopped to consider all of the myriad ways Matt's powers might have affected him. The seeing, enhanced senses, and taking a hell of a beating had all seemed like more than enough to think about.

[blindninja]

"Yeah. I uh... My sense of balance is already a little." Non-existent. "Off." He rubs his hands down his thighs and forces a brave, tight-lipped smile like he's completely fine dealing with his true blindness.

"I won't fall over after one glass though. Promise."

[digging]

"You're the better man than me, then, because I think I'd be getting blasted if I was in your spot," Karen replies with a little laugh, softly sympathetic. She has no possible way of understanding what he's going through, but she wants him to know she gets that it sucks.

"There's a chair right beside you, let me get you a drink," she adds, bottles pinging softly against each other as she rummages through them on the table and finally lifts out a bottle of scotch. She pours out a finger for him and then for herself, and slides into the adjacent chair with a rustle of fabric.

"Right in front you," she says, sliding the glass over.

[blindninja]

"Yeah. It sounds pretty tempting actually." It's not really his style but maybe he'll consider it once he's alone with nobody to witness his weak self-destructive attempts at working through his frustrations.

"Thanks." He picks up his drink and tries to exude an aura of confidence that hopefully won't result in falling off a chair. Thankfully his ass makes it to the seat and he scratches behind his ear before taking a small sip.

"You know this stuff isn't half bad when you can't feel it tearing up your throat," he comments with a wince and a smile to lighten up the mood.