sixthiterationlogs | [ MINGLE ] FORGE AFTER HOURS

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[ MINGLE ] FORGE AFTER HOURS

WHO: Tony Stark
WHERE: South Village Forge
WHEN: January 8th
OPEN TO: Smitherns (Thor, Brigitte, Annie Cresta, Siefer), Plus Ones, Passers by, and Friends! Anyone, really, come on down.
WARNINGS: Language, discussion of canon typical violence probably, drinking?

THE HEARTH

With the bulk of the work and chores done for the day, the heart's banked down to a tolerable level rather than steel meltingly hot, positively cozy. Tables are cleared of metal filings and shavings, the floor is swept, extra chairs and seating or overturned crates serve as places to kick back and enjoy the warmth. A large kettle of tea is kept brewing all night, another of coffee, and a jug of cool water for those thirsty with no real requirement RE flavor. There's a rack for coats and scarves when people don't need to be quite so bundled up, and space cleared enough for milling about, tossing ideas back and forth, or simply relaxing. Arguments happen at The Debate Wall, not by the fire.

THE FOOD

It's an eclectic spread- a pot of stew, some crusty bread, frittatas, a few large, simple cheese pizzas, bottles of wine, and whatever other food the Smitherns or their Plus Ones chose to bring. It's a bit of a potluck, food spread out on one table for perusal, plates waiting and a bin for dirty dishes. Tony will scrub up at the end of the night. By the fire there's a waffle iron and as many toppings as they could find for waffles- jams, zalpaca butter, dried fruit, preserved peaches. Serve yourself or sit and sample!

THE CHILL OUT CORNER

For the more introspective or anyone taking a break from The Debate Wall, there's a comfortable chair tucked in the far corner where the light isn't as bright, the sound not quite so loud- and in this chair sits a young Peacat, a smaller pot for tea, and a few books. Elton's a friendly sort and will chirrup to lean for pets or simply sit on a lap and purr, offering calming, quiet company.

THE DEBATE WALL

Scrubbed clean for the night, the wall opposite Tony's Scrawled projects, equations, rules and definitions- currently marked only with a few notes RE proper charcoal use 'It's for the wall, not your hands, not anyone's clothes', the large space cleared for marking out or drawing out- well. Games, hangman, tic-tac-toe, sketches, or debate points. The only other rule listed is 'If you're going to pick a hill to die on, cite your references'.

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"We have plenty of monsters," Finnick says, though he says it without any hint of ill-will in his voice, more a quip than a correction. "We just don't have many halberds."

A halberd may be a versatile weapon, but in some ways, that's exactly its problem in Panem. It's so versatile it would be hard to pass off as anything but a weapon, unlike a spear or a trident which are genuine fishing tools as well as convenient weapons. He'd learned to use a trident fishing with his father, not in a fight. Most importantly, though, they don't provide them in the Games. They don't offer training to use them in the leadup to the Games, and they're rarely in the Cornucopia, so they're not part of the Career training Finnick and the other tributes from District Four went through.

There might be more halberds around if weapons weren't illegal in Panem for anyone but the Peacekeepers, who had guns.

"Finnick Odair," he replies, taking Nida's hand and shaking it. "I choose a trident, when I have the option."

Strong hand, strong body, and combat experience, and then Finnick says the magic word. Trident. At that point he's clearly holding Finnick's hand too long in the shake, but mostly because he's clearly a bit awed.

"A trident? I dedicated three months when I was sixteen to trying to find a reasonable method of combat making use of a trident. For all of my work it was just too different from other polearms, given the sorts of creatures on my world, to figure out a way to fully incorporate it into my combat style. Problem was was that, unlike spears, it wasn't easy to wrest the things out of the sort of creatures I was up against. And I could never figure out a way to use them against a human opponent."

Oh, right, hand. Damn, he's... He's excited. was that wrong? Was it wrong to get excited and ask a guy to teach you how to fight with something without a lot of lead up time on having met them? Yes? Well, he didn't care. This was something he wanted to do anyway. Even if they didn't have the proper gear.

"Maybe you could show me some moves sometime."

"Warranted- sure. Even if he's promised he won't pull the same trick on a human or human adjacent sort that isn't his mission- I don't believe him on that note, but, well. The only reason I didn't start swinging when he rolled up here is the kids." He nods at Seifer, Brigitte, and even Thor off to one side in the forge. Drinking, laughing, being young. Something he doesn't think the Brodinsons ever got a chance to, not with the whole being royal bullshit that comes hand in hand with their family. He's not going to empathize with Loki on that count, hell no, but-

Yeah. It's a thing. "I can't come down on them about not making weapons and not stabbing their way out of problems if I do the same thing. Also tweedle dee the first, the one that got stabbed, was...pretty unperturbed by the whole thing. Annoyed more at not having hands for a little while than upset by being harmed. Because machines can't feel bad for being harmed- it's a thing. I don't agree with it but I'm not in a position to start shit I don't know that I can end. Also why I'm asking you to fuck with him. We both know-"

For various reasons, various causes. "There are worse things than being killed. Or decommissioned. Not that I recommend leaning into physical torture but making someone question their reality and existence? Doesn't that sound like fun? I'd do more of it myself but he knows I'm hostile already, so it wouldn't work half as well."

Or at all. "Somewhere safe, and keeping his head down. He still hasn't completely recovered. The problem with advanced tech appearing here, even if that tech is a person? No way to replace some shit."

"Sounded like she did. Wasn't givin' me great instructions on what she was looking for though. So I guess I'm just going to wing it and hope we don't overdose ourselves." Not a horse pill, whatever that means. He'll design it as a smaller tablet, if they have to take two then so be it. "And muscle aches," He agrees. "It'd be nice. Not puttin' too much hope there yet."

No convenient ointments either. Honestly if anyone really got hurt he's not sure how prepared they are for that. A few lightly trained in first aid, were there any real doctors? Rinoa had mentioned an illness that struck the village just before he arrived. That could be devastating.

He pauses, blinking as he's shaken from his train of thought. Wow, huh, where did that come from? "I dunno, that's a big one. Monsters, maybe, also not monsters. Y'know much as I didn't like to rely on it so much sure was nice to have Paramagic in case of emergencies. And Potions." Which were also magically infused and why they worked so nicely to shore up most surface ailments.

"And restaurants. Fast food. You?"

Brigitte blinks at him and arches an eyebrow, surprised by that answer. "Why do you miss monsters? I thought the whole point of monsters was to not have them." Unless Seifer's actually more like her old knight than she realised: a bombastic Reinhardt starved for adventure, eternally seeking honour and glory, likely to overturn a hundred different stones in his search for trouble to solve and wrongs to right.

She knew the question was going to be turned around on her in return, but Brig still didn't need that much time to think about it. "My family and friends," she says, simply. "I can pick up skills, I can get used to a new place, I don't mind danger, but the people... You can't easily replace that." She trails off. The implication's there, though she's not crass enough to shove it in his face: You're lucky, to have people from back home.

If it's wrong, it's something that Finnick understands. Finnick is a victor, but he was a Career first, so the enthusiasm of the response to the word trident just makes him smile, if only for a flash. By the time Finnick was sixteen, he was already famous, already supposedly set for life on the back of the things he could do when you put a trident in his hands. But he'd never liked teaching the Careers. They wanted to become like him, victors, and he couldn't encourage them in that, couldn't keep feeding them the lies about how good everything would be when they'd won.

Nida, though, talks about fighting monsters, and Finnick's long ago learned that he can't assume that people here are from places anywhere comparable to Panem.

"Incapacitate them first."

It's the brutal fighting style he'd used to win his way to glory in the Games. He can throw a trident or spear with strength, rapidity, accuracy, but where he'd really excelled was in closer quarters, when he could use the trident not only as a thrusting weapon, but a staff, too. And in the Games, he'd used nets, a mark of his childhood as a fisherman's son, so that when his opponents were trying to get out, he could close on the kill.

Not that he's proud of it.

He prefers what he does here, fishing and hunting to survive instead of murdering.

"It helps to have grown up using them," he says, offering a little more information as Nida actually lets go of his hand. "I know a lot of fighting styles, but the trident came more naturally to me because I was used to it. I used to help my father out on his fishing boat before I started fighting."

He considers again, piercingly green eyes scrutinizing the younger man. Nida's barely more than a kid himself, in that same age group as the younger victors like Johanna. So he relents.

"I could probably show you a few things."

"I've been using a variety of polearms since I was ten," Nida counters, because really, he's been using them to survive. Or for the eventual purpose of surviving. Of course his wasn't the whole feed yourself sort of survival.

"However the things I've grown up using them against are less things I jabbed at, more I slashed at things. Like I said, halberds."

But when the offer happens and offers some tips, Nida smiles more. Oh yes, he'd be glad to learn that.

"What would I have to pay you?"

"They're a lot more fun to fight than humans," He offers with a half-shrug. Nothing made you feel better than taking down a creature that could bite you in half with minimal effort alone. Seifer was absolutely always looking for that next big adventure. Honor, glory, the whole bag. That's always been his dream, even if it was later twisted into a nightmare.

"Yeah..." He echoes almost regretfully. "There's a couple people I wish were here. If it were all of us? This place would be perfect." Away from the troubles of home. He'd even accept the lack of monsters and fast food if he could have his posse back. "You're right. You can't replace the people. That's the hardest part." Lucky. To a degree. She might not think that as much if she knew one was his ex and he'd been on the wrong side of a war against both. It was awkward sometimes.

"Okay, true, I guess I understand that," Brigitte muses, thinking back on her own adventures. Taking down criminal gangs was a seemingly cut-and-dried affair, but it was harder to swing her flail at a human who bled red, compared to a faceless robot who just went down in a shower of sparks. "The man I travelled with, he was obsessed with finding a dragon to fight someday. The closest we ever got was a gang called the Dragons, though."

"I like Rinoa," she adds after a pause, as if to try and puncture that wistfulness that's sunk in between them. "I met her a week ago, at the new year's party? She's really nice."

Edited 2019-02-09 02:55 (UTC)

Difficult had never been the problem, Garden had trained that out of him early on. He just didn't find fighting humans interesting. Sure, they could plan and were cunning, but they weren't much of a match. Very rarely was anyone a match. "Dragons, huh?" His grin broadened at that. "What if I told you my world has dragons?"

Alright the T-Rexaur he'd fought so far were more dinosaurs, that didn't mean he wasn't absolutely going to take on a Ruby someday.

Ah, the New Year's party. There's a slight wince there, he'd not acted his best toward her then. They've calmed down, it was still a sore point. "Yeah, she's good people. We've known each other a while."

"Wait, really? Literally, really, dragons?" Brigitte's s already grinning, her curiosity piqued. "Oh my god, Reinhardt would have gone insane with jealousy."

It's the first time she's actually said his name aloud, and she doesn't realise it.

"I don't know anyone here. I mean, of course I know people here," she waves her spoon at the smithy around them, the place that's rapidly become her second home, "But not from my world. I like all of you at the forge, though. I'm glad we're here." The gathering feels properly cozy, after all: the buzz of conversation, the smell of home-cooked food. It's good.

"Literally, really, dragons," He confirms with a brightening grin. Oh yes, let him tell you about his world's monsters Brig. "Several species in fact. One's technically more a dinosaur but come on, close enough." Reinhardt, that's right she'd been very careful to not say his name thus far. And now he had it for later. Nice.

"No one from your own world, I get it. I'd be pretty lost without them, I think. Never been this alone before." So, very disgustingly alone if it weren't for them. Despite the occasional tension Rinoa and Nida did a lot to keep him from disappearing completely into his brain and shutting off. It was good, because everyone had enough difficulty prying him back out of his shell as it was. "There's a couple people from home I miss." Two, really, the rest he could live without seeing again. That life was dead.

"You got started early."

There's an invitation in his tone if Nida wants to expand on why he'd learned so early. But even after so long here, Finnick doesn't volunteer much about his own early start in weapons training. The Careers may have been an open secret, but they were a secret, never discussed with outsiders. His combat skills could be explained away now, as a victor and a mentor, but not before the Games. Not without openly admitting the illegal lie.

He considers the question for a moment.

"It's fine. I could use the practice." He tips his head a little to one side. "Maybe we could spar a little."

"It was expected," Nida shrugged. No, he's not getting into the paramilitary academy thing. Strangely, though, Finnick might be one of the few in the village to get it, to not care as much about his background. Not as deeply as other people did.

"I'm always down for sparring," Nida agrees. "I only have a staff at the moment, but it's something. Besides, a good workout is always its own reward."

There's a pause, where she seems to consider if it's okay for her to ask this at all, or if it's too private -- but Brigitte loves picking people's brains about their worlds, finding out where they came from, the sorts of places that forged them. Even back home, she'd always liked hearing people's stories. And so with this infinite variety of so many different worlds, her curiosity doesn't stand a chance. (Plus, some of these worlds have dragons! And dinosaurs!!)

So, in the end, she settles for asking it: "Who are they?"

Seifer really doesn't mind questions, personal questions he might start to withdraw from. But questions about his world? Perfectly fine. Especially if she wants to know about monsters, they're one of his favorite parts now that he doesn't have them available to play with anymore. Made his entire purpose growing up rather moot, which was depressing. If he thought too long on it he'd realize just how lost he was, and frankly he didn't enjoy doing that.

"Rinoa and Nida, I'm sure you've seen them around they're pretty active around here." Good people.

"Oh-- I thought you meant two other people in addition." Brigitte had to keep pressing down that instinctive little twitch of envy -- he was lucky, so lucky, that the few people he cared about were actually here -- but she could manage it if she just reminded herself to be happy for Seifer. He deserved to have an old support network there to back him up.

And she was making herself a little mental note, that she'd have to meet this Nida soon too.

While they'd been talking, she'd still been shoveling the occasional bite of stew in her mouth, and now realised that her bowl of stew was done. Staring down at it, Brig announced, "Okay! So. I need something to drink. Want me to bring you back some tea or coffee or water?"

"Shit, sorry, you meant who I missed not who was already here." Sorry he's a little spaced out, thinking about several things at once. "Raijin and Fujin, my two best friends and closest thing to family I have." Had? Might be had, now, since they're gone and it would seem that Rinoa and Nida were determined to take up the mantle. Not that he was upset, mind you. "I knew Rinoa before we came here, wasn't really close to Nida." He was almost a stranger, really.

And now they were brothers. Funny how things like that work out.

Seifer was eating more slowly after he'd already stuffed himself with pancakes and waffles. He's really going to have to work all this off later. Don't worry, he will, guy is nothing if not a powerhouse for labor. "I'd love some coffee if you wouldn't mind?" That's a nice offer he'll definitely accept. He misses coffee.

"I mean, I have bothered you in the middle of your design session," she points out with a grin, nodding to his sketches and doodles. "No shame in being distracted." But then she's off to fetch coffee for the both of them -- it's a standard Scandinavian thing, too, to unwind with some coffee after dinner. Ideally with some cake, but waffles are acceptable too.

When Brigitte returns and hands over a still-steaming cup for him, she leans against the back of her chair rather than sit don again. She really should be mingling more, but she likes Seifer, likes keeping him company. She'll move on in a few, but not quite yet.

"This is one of the things I miss most, I think," she says, looking down at the coffee. "I pretty much lived on coffee back home. But it's so much more rare here."

Waffles and pancakes. He's trying to challenge Rhodey, so far the waffles have blown him out of the water. At least he tried, and for once failing in one of his own self-set challenges hasn't actually bothered him that much. Obviously Rhodey knew what he was doing with the waffle thing, Seifer just had no iron.

He thanks her quietly as he takes the cup, cradling it in two hands and curling up in a way that maximizes the amount of warm he's gathering from the forge. It's warm and cozy right now, nothing like unwinding with a nice cup of coffee by the fire.

"Garden coffee wasn't exactly good," He comments as he takes a sip. "Still miss it. Familiar comforts, you know? 'Course, now that you've been grillin' me for a bit I figure it's about my turn. What do you miss the most? Or who, guess I should say."

Brigitte knew the tables were going to turn around on her like this eventually; the lucky thing is that, by now, she actually feels better about paring back those details to Seifer in particular. So for once, she doesn't just answer with the standard 'My family and friends', and instead gives more specifics.

"There's all my brothers and sisters and parents, obviously, but that just... goes without saying." She glances up at the rafters of the forge, as if for inspiration, before continuing. "That knight I mentioned back when we first met? His name is Reinhardt. He's also my godfather, and who I was adventuring with when I... came here. I didn't know how much I would miss him until I did. Plus he's probably getting in so much trouble without me."

"Sounds like you have a big family," He's rather envious of that. Never had a family himself. Just the small found one he'd made back home of Raijin and Fujin, now Nida and Rinoa.

He nods at her question, she'd mentioned the name once, now he was getting more detail. Her fear of his getting into trouble does earn a mild chuckle, shaking his head. "I dunno how any of this stuff works, but I wouldn't doubt he'd be just as worried about you not bein' around. Be on his best behavior, 'least that's what I'd do if I knew someone was gonna worry." Of course best might still not mean completely out of trouble. "So he's who you were a squire for, yeah?"

It's evident by her laugh, too, that she doesn't think 'best behaviour' goes very far. "Even his best behaviour is utterly stupid when he doesn't have someone to watch his back," Brigitte explains, but there's a fondness to her voice that shows she's not actually bitter about this particular failing.

"And yeah. Squire, medic, mechanic and smith, I was basically whatever he needed me to be." Even down to policing the man's meals sometimes. Perennial work, in a way, but she always enjoyed her time with the man. Part of why she missed him so much now. "Can Fujin and Raijin at least take care of themselves?"

Edited 2019-02-18 01:07 (UTC)

Finnick doesn't comment further on the training Nida admits to having, though his keen green eyes show interest. In Panem, such training is illegal, except for trainee Peacekeepers.

"Sounds like a deal. I have a couple of tridents here so I can show you some moves with the real thing, and we can spar a bit in return."

He's stayed in practice here, largely, but it's been mostly alone, occasionally with Annie. But he knows that nothing really beats fighting against another person for practice, for challenging his own instincts and tactical thinking.

"We'll have to make sure it happens some time then," Nida genuinely smiles at the man, clearly excited for this prospect. Not quite bouncing over the joy of the idea of learning something he never had been able to put together himself, but it's close.

"Besides, it's always a good idea to keep ready. Not like this place is trustworthy."

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[ MINGLE ] FORGE AFTER HOURS

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tw: child murder

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i meant to try wrapping this at first but whoops I JUST LOVE THEM.. SO MUCH...

THEY'RE TOO CUTE

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I am a durp

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