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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Hosting!

A good host minds their guests- he's cleaned up a little from the day of work, scrubbed his hands clean, combed through his hair, made sure he didn't smell like ozone and metal, but it's a casual get together more than anything else. After being taken by the spine and shook pretty hard the month previous- he's better. Still weary in the slump of his shoulders and the darker circles under his eyes- but they're not as bad as they were. Tony's smiling, laughing, teasing. Inviting people in for a little warmth and ideas. He tops off glasses of wine if anyone's drinking, pats shoulders, and points everyone to the waffle station Rhodey's manning because- honestly? Nothing seems to make the man happier. Every new visitor gets a smile and a wave in to sit and chat, and everyone gets asked the same three questions. "What do you think we need in the village? What kind of problems have you been noticing?"

And the most important: "Which is better, pancakes or waffles? I've got a bet going."

The Chill Out Corner

Glad as he is to have everyone (and he is, it's nice to have company, a full gathering of people talking about ideas, how to make them, how to solve problems, tossing inane, frivolous inventions back and forth like it's a sport- he needs a moment to breathe a little. When no one else is settled there Tony slides into the chair, scooping Elton up to settle against his chest, the peacat's head tucked up under Tony's chin as he purrs. It's a familiar, soothing sound by now. A few minutes of this ad slowly stroking Elton's fur and feathers? And he'll be ready for another round of hosting.

Wildcard

Got something else in mind? Hit me.

Lost Here

When it comes to it, this wasn't where he'd planned to be for the night. What he had planned was hanging out at the house, pointedly ignoring everything he should be thinking about. Shouldn't be thinking about. Don't worry about it, not important. What was important was that when Seifer had knocked on the door and said effectively 'get dressed loser, we're going out.' With nothing better to do and a promise of food, Nida had followed. All the way to what he had personally marked as forbidden territory: the forge.

And with Seifer pretty much ditching within moments of arrival, Nida was left looking around, trying to figure out what was going on. What were all these tools? Who were all of these people ~~he hadn't really met any of them~~? What is he even doing here? Seifer, Hyne he can't believe he is going to say this, come back.

Story Time

The thing about a forge is that it gets him to thinking, mostly about the things that come out of places like this. It makes him think of a junk shop, usually run by people who managed weapon creation. His fingers run across an ingot an smiles.

"Seeing things like this makes me remember when I had to replace my first halberd. Always be careful with your weapon when fighting Grendels I guess."

Tony looks like he's in good spirits, and he's a familiar face. So Seifer abandons his hiding corner of safety to use Tony as his hiding corner of safety, mostly so he can sneak over to grab a snack. There's stew, how could he resist stew? He didn't know how to cook much just yet so his contribution had been a large pile of pancakes to battle Rhodey's waffles.

A battle he will not officially lay claim to. "Oh no, boss, I know better than to answer that one. You want me on Rhodey's shit list?" He teased back. Using the excuse of Tony to sidle closer so he could snag himself one of said waffles. He likes his pancakes but he eats them all the time. "What about you?"

Frankly, Nida hadn't expected to be addressed by this person. By anyone here. He hadn't even expected to b here. But here he is, Seifer already having disappeared, posed with three questions. And since this guy was apparently the one behind the food today (yes, Nida's watching out for Seifer told him that this guy was Tony Stark and the chief blacksmith), he was going to answer.

"First, waffles. Crispy surface, space to hold your syrup, and a versatile food because you can go ahead and put jam on it, gravy and the like. In fact, while a pancake is easier to make, a waffle iron is a far more useful tool too. You can make brownies in it."

Lesson of Garden he had learned. He could make brownies in a waffle iron. Good news. The other ones actually get Nida to pause and think more seriously.

"Meat is a problem," Nida answered immediately. "A barn isn't enough for our current population. Not something you can deal with. But it means that there needs to be a larger intake of meat. Not just fish, you need red meat. Which means hunting. Which means hunters. And you can't take everything down with a bow and arrow. Especially since there are apparently giant boars. There needs to be boar spears, maybe crossbows, items for taking down larger prey. Though from my understanding from Seifer, asking for something like a spear, much less a halberd like I use."

"Donuts." Easy. When in doubt, pick a third option. He reaches out to clasp Seifer's shoulder (though it's less out and more up, fuck the kid is tall) and give him a friendly shake. "And as long as you don't bring up Puerto Rico and Spring Break of 87, you're fine. The rest is all posturing anyway, he's all fluff."

Wrapped around steel but- that goes without saying. "The fact you brought pancakes is hilarious though, let me tell you. He's going to be laughing about it all night.'

"Hah! Alright, I might take the case for donuts." Portable, not always nearly as messy, and still delicious? "What about pastries?" If they're going for any potential dessert like snack item there's always a case for a cheese danish or strudel. He is very tall, one of his parents might have been part Behemoth. He wouldn't know. "What's a Puerto Rico?"

Or an 87 for that matter. Rhodey might be fluff, and really he was, Seifer was still cautious with how much he stepped on toes. Still feeling out how free he really can be here. And sometimes just not realizing it's possible. The pancake comment earned a broad grin. "Think so? Might as well have both parties represented." Okay it was mostly because that's what he's best at cooking. He needs to get his hands on some potatoes.

"Waffles and gravy- Not something I've done but Rhodey probably has. He'll be happy for another member of Team Waffle." Tony huffs, happy enough to stir the embers of an ultimately harmless rivalry. Breakfast foods are breakfast foods, no one gets hurt by them.

The rest, though-

Spears, cossbows- he's made one of those already, but a Halbeard? "I'll take a vote on if hunting spears can violate the no shank rule. A Halbeard is going to be a hard no. Self defense and hunting for the village is one thing but-"

He'd spent so long taking the teeth out of his tech. This is older shit, easier to navigate in some spaces, but- "I'd like to limit how many actual weapons we have floating around. We don't have any invasive hostile forces, just weird shit that happens to us."

Malik blinks at Tony before shrugging at the first two questions, and at least has the grace to swallow what he'd just eaten before speaking.

"The first two depend entirely on what the long term goals are here, though a library of things besides manuals would not be a terrible idea." He admits, giving up on eating for the moment to simply roll his eyes at the question of pancakes and waffles.

"Neither is an acceptable breakfast food, but if they are as part of a dessert... still neither. Brownies are superior to both."

"If they're made right? Amazing. I'm trying not to think about that because we don't exactly have a baker on hand now, do we?" Basic bitch bread and waffles not withstanding- puff pastry and things that need layers of butter and skill to master? Not a thing.

Unfortunately.

"Country near the US, territory where people go to get drunk and make poor life choices. No matter what he says it is not actually my fault, he's the one that bought the tequila." He is the face of innocence, truly. Always.

"Safety and sustainability." Easy. They're going to keep getting people. They'll also keep losing people but Tony will take the disappearances with some grace as long as no one starves or freezes to death. Some shit can be avoided. "Printing Press and Papermaking, got it."

That's what he could swing, at least. Nonfiction didn't seem to come through all that often and he doesn't know of anyone that writes stories easily. Paper production would be the tougher nut to crack just for consistency. They've got enough pulp ad woodchips.

"...Brownies? Care to unpack that one for me?"

"Yeah, Seifer's told me," Nida admits with a shrug. "I understand you flipped out over gunblades. Which is kind of funny when you consider how useful they are as a weapon. I mean, not as useful as most of the polearm classification, especially when you're taking on things like behemoths, but what can I say, he was always too flashy. Pretty sure he based his combat stance off of a movie. He would have been better off with a broadsword."

Oh look, another one of the child soldiers. At least he would probably agree to the fact that gunblades are a bit much.

"I can get you specs on the head of a boar spear if you need."

7 had wanted to talk to Tony about making a shield - she's been trying to keep an eye open for discarded or natural objects that might work, but it was harder in this world and this size to just cobble something together, she'd found.

What she wasn't expecting was to find the forge in such spirits. She looks about, then wanders in and tries to find Tony.

"Hey, do you have a minute? Or should I come back later?"

Malik hums at that, considering, "Walls, or at least some sort of fortified and supplied position to retreat to in events of emergency. Sustainability without trade partners is not something I am well versed in, sadly." He admits, "The printing press can come later, there are enough birds about to make quills and ink is fairly easy to make once one knows how."

He gives an amused look at that, "Brownies are one of three inventions of the post-industrial world that are not inherently depressing. As far as sweet foods go, they are second only to baklava and perhaps the Girl Scout Samoas."

"HEY! Check the rules-" He jerks his thumb over his shoulder where 'GUNBLADE IS A FORBIDDEN WORD' is scrawled on the list. "We do not speak of that poorly engineered, wrist destroying, tryhard anime bullshit in this forge. Practical physics only."

Seriously the very concept pains his soul. "I know how to make a boar spear, I just haven't had any orders for them. I'll need to verify with people how large the giant boars are here and...I'll get back to you."

It's one part 'need the tool' and one part 'this is one of those trained children soldiers, he could probably kill someone with the thing.'

"...I thought you were besties with Altair. How are you from his lifetime and still know what Girl Scout Cookies are?" He'll come back around to the fortified walls and such, honest, but this? This he needs to unpack.

Like.

Now.

"Hit me, 7-11. What've you got?" He pours himself another mug of tea- and pours one for her, pressing it into her hands without waiting for her to decline. She needs to mind herself, a little reminding doesn't hurt.

Not that he's really one to talk.

Could definitely kill someone with one of those things. But the phrasing has Nida looking at Stark quietly for a moment, studying him.

A no then. Well, Nida would figure something else out eventually. But he can see it there, that hint of 'child soldiers.' Helps that he got some heads up with Seifer. He does allow Stark a smile, the sort that a press secretary offered in a conference. No real value there, just acknowledgment that someone had said something and he had in fact processed it.

"Works for the physics of our world, especially with healing spells. And they're more effective against a T-Rexaur than a lot of other things. Sorry, you're from an Earth, right? Tyrannosaurus was the name I was given I think. Got to do what you have to do."

"I spent the better part of three years being thrown between different realities because multi-dimensional beings like to use sentient beings as pawns in their games and have very little regard to maintaining the stability of the timeline." Malik replied with utterly dry honesty.

"Though I am not entirely sure that in every reality a demon arms dealer was behind the return of the Hostess company."

"No one here knows how to bake? There's cookbooks in the schoolhouse right?" This is almost a challenge he's willing to take on. Not make it full time, mind you, but if he could figure out how to manage a donut you bet he damn well will.

"You know I'm just gonna keep askin' what you're talkin' about so I'm going to take your word for it," He nods to himself as if he's made a decision. Then... ventures anyway because he's insanely curious. "How many countries does your world have?" And another, this one with a quirked eyebrow and a slight smirk. "Y'know the more you defend yourself here the more guilty you sound." He's so going to ask Rhodey about this now.

Rinoa was only a little bit behind the other two. She was told it was happening, but she wanted to clean up some things and feed Julia. She noticed Nida acting a little strangely that day but hadn't pushed yet. After their conversation before, and her conversation with Seifer, she'd been pensive and quiet too. The perils of being in a situation without constant distractions or things to do meant thinking too much.

Still, she came into the forge wearing her customary blue, having intended to try other colors after talking to Bobo at the party but she was a creature of habit in the end. She saw Nida on his own for now and smiled, walking over and poking at his arm. "It's cool down here, isn't it? I've only been once." She wanted to see what Seifer was up to, and it was interesting, if not really her thing.

Debate Wall 1: Dragons vs Bears

The problem with giving Malik a place to pose the question to a group and a wall to put tallies on is that he's going to use it to attempt to prove one point here.

His handwriting is fairly impeccible as he puts three list headers up: 'Dragons', 'Bears' and 'Both'.

"Dragons are an interdimensional rarity compared to other dangerous creatures. Bears are more a more common occurrence to be wary of. Multiple people from the same reality only count once for the dragon and bear counting."

Food

When he's not engaging in vigorous debate with people at the debate wall, Malik's taking careful part of the offered food. He inherently can't eat quickly without a table or friend to hold a plate for him so he mostly just hangs by the table with a habitually wary eye on the gathered group.

"Ah, sorry. Am I in the way?"

Wildcard

Want to strike up a debate? Malik will engage with pretty much anyone, or back up someone's point on a matter.

Rinoa. Nida doesn't know whether he should be relieved for a familiar face, or a bit nervous because... Well, because she had been so right. Beyond right. And he may not have known what exactly what to do about that.

"It makes me think of junk shops," Nida agrees. "And I haven't been by before. I thought Seifer wanted space from us, so I wasn't approaching the forge. And you saw how that conversation went."

Oh! She'll take the tea, nestling it in her hands and appreciating hte warmth as it seems through, giving Tony a little frown, "11? There's no 11, there were only 9 of us."

She blows on her tea for a moment before taking a sip. There hadn't been any others, after 9 ... and anyway, how would Tony even know that? She's the only one of them that's even here, as far as she knew.

She eyes him for a moment before continuing with her request.

"I was wondering if you could help me make a shield? I haven't been able to find anything that'll work."

Rinoa chuckles at him and shakes her head. "It's okay, you're still learning what makes him tick, it isn't like it comes naturally. Even I had practice at it for a bit first." Seifer was generally much easier for her to read than Squall or Nida himself, although give her enough time and that would be changed. Perception was a gift she didn't take for granted. She glances over at Seifer and her smile is sweet but sad too. There was a lot still to be worked on between them.

"How was your sleepover?" She returned her attention to him. "Did he tell you more of the ... star wars?"

The sleepover. As much as he wanted to, Nida couldn't even begin to hide the pained confusion on his face. It's only a flash, but then it's gone and he smiles instead. His nice professional smile. Squall hid behind blank faces and stares. Nida did it with smiles.

"No, we talked about other things. Our backgrounds, things like that. I don't think we slept very much."

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[ MINGLE ] FORGE AFTER HOURS

Tony

Nida | OTA

Hosting

Hosting!

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Wildcard

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Lost Here

Malik

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