sixthiterationlogs | [ 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'.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Indeed, Seifer was often very carefully reserved about his emotions. Didn't like to let anything that could be construed as a weakness or a weapon against him out to be seen. She'd caught him off guard, in an unusual mood with an unusual subject. The little tiny family he did miss. He hoped they were okay without him. So, probably both.

A huff. "Heh, yeah... yeah it is. Ain't much we can do about it 'course. If they were here I think it'd be just perfect here." Then he definitely wouldn't want to go. Didn't really want to as it was, mind, but that'd seal the deal.

"Perfect is maybe a little bit of a stretch, at least for now," Brigitte admits, "but-- I do know what you mean." Life in the village was... okay. Or at least, getting better. She's settling in.

Then she finally unfolds her hands from the chair, straightens up and stretches until something in her back pops. She's been hunkered down here for too long; she should probably get moving, do more of the rounds, meet more people.

"I should probably go try those waffles. Thanks for the talk, though, Seifer, and I'll catch you round here tomorrow. And good luck with those designs?" She gives him a flash of a smile, an attempt at reassurance. She's leaving him a little bittersweet, but her mood isn't tanked or anything; because there's still the warmth of the forge, and that buzz of conversation, and getting closer to these new friends.

It's not home, but at least it's something like it.

"Almost perfect," He amends. For him, it's close enough. He has more here than he could have ever had back home. People who want him, for some reason or another, a kind of family. A second chance. And most of all an escape from Galbadia's firing squad. Granted he could see how it wouldn't be the same for her, she had things to go back to. A lot that she'd lost here.

A nod to acknowledge, better she get moving. Sorry Brig, he'd not intended to be depressing. "Later." If she wants to talk to him again she'll know where to find him. He's going to stay there and mind his business, just watching the socialization from a safe, uncertain distance. One day, maybe, he'll learn how to be involved like the rest of them.

[ MINGLE ] FORGE AFTER HOURS

no subject

closed there, or yours to close?

Closed is good!