singillatim | Hot Potato (party log)

Who: Chloe Frazer & any and all party people!!
What: Harvest Celebrations/Halloween Party/Ruby’s Birthday/Rat Marriage/Big Communal Cooking Party so Chloe doesn't burn down her house
When: October 12
Where: At Chloe’s house on Greene Street

Content Warnings: Food descriptions, probably.
Other Notes: Feel free to make this a mingle and reply to other characters!

Chloe had wondered whether to go through with the harvest party once Lalo had disappeared, but as they say, the show must go on. There's still a lot worth celebrating, and people need something hopeful after the mess last month. Luckily her house had made it through everything all right.

The poster had said to wear a costume, so she's hoping to see a lot of those, and she’d recruited some people to help her put together the menu exactly to Lalo’s specifications, so unfortunately no one is safe from British Potatoes. There are even candles for the birthday cake.

Chloe herself is dressed as a sexy lumberjack, with one of Lalo’s old flannels tied in a knot under her breasts and denim cutoffs made from the jeans Kostya had gotten blood on (shh). She's got a fire roaring, because otherwise she’d freeze.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Even if it did, the Darkwalker doesn't seem likely to be capable of dying of exposure, unfortunately.

“Thanks a lot. People have really stepped up on this.”

Well, there goes that plan.

"People like eating," he shrugs, as if it's completely impossible that someone would expect to be fed without bothering to contribute.

“Okay, fair point.” It's something pretty much everyone here has to do in one way or another. “And no one wants scurvy.”

He makes a slight face, because that probably was a known ailment where he's from, along with the thing that made kids' bones grow wrong due to lack of sunlight.

"Exactly. Thanks for getting it all together." Frankly he's surprised more people didn't start on a similar project, but he supposes someone had to and that someone stands before him.

“Of course,” Chloe says with a smile. “Enjoy the party. Let me know if you want to take anything home after.”

Levi seems to perk up at the offer. "Yes, if you have leftovers," he says quickly. "Unless any of the kids want it." Luckily for him, British Potatoes don't seem to have many fans...

“I tried to make enough so everyone who wants to can take a little home.” Chloe still remembers the grifter days of her youth, sneaking into fancy parties to try and scam leftovers to eat later.

"Good thinking." She'd mentioned knowing what it's like to go hungry before, back when they were raiding the Forest Talker caches; that probably contributed to such thoughtfulness. He keeps that to himself, though, simply adding another mental good point to Chloe's scoreboard.

At least this time, neither of them need to scam or steal anything. For now.

She smirks a little. “I think you'll have dibs on the British potatoes, and those make pretty decent leftovers, especially if you've got a little milk or butter and some dried meat.”

"Thanks." His eyebrows rise slightly at the mention of milk, though. "Someone here keep a cow I haven't heard about?"

“Yeah, that kid Robin had one up at the farm.” Chloe shrugs. “Don't know what happened to her after the barn burned, though.”

"Huh." That's something he hadn't considered. Sure, wild animals were roaming around, but a cow? How did that end up here? He supposes Chloe doesn't know any more about that than he does, though. "Suppose I'll ask if I see him."

“My impression is that she came here with him, but I don't know a lot about it.” If Levi has met 'Robin' he can probably imagine how most conversations between them go. Chloe’s certain that he likes her deep down, but that doesn't mean he doesn't daydream about taping her mouth shut.

That's even wilder. "Damn. Wish my horse had come along."

Levi has probably met him but not really had a conversation, so he can't really imagine how that talk might have gone. He has no problem with Chloe's chattiness himself.

“Right?” It would have made things a lot easier. “There was a guy here - kind of a silver fox, you know? - who came through with a horse, but I think he fucked off a while ago.”

Levi's time is likely a little before the usage of silver fox for this particular definition, but for funsies, let's say he gets it.

"Shame," he says, as if he's truly lamenting the loss of such an individual, though his tone remains blank. "The horse disappeared along with him?"

Just doublechecking, in case there's something left to collect.

“Yeah.” Hell of a thing, really. “So he either fucked off on horseback or they both got zapped away by the aurora.”

Certainly sounds like it.

"Does that happen a lot? People disappearing." He wonders if some of them have found a way out of this place, but are unable to contact the ones still stuck here.

“Yeah. I think sometimes they die and we don't find them - there are lots of places to go missing here and this place is good at making people want to die alone - but sometimes people just disappear into thin air.”

It can't be a straightforward exit because everyone has already tried all of those.

"That's a comforting thought," he grumbles sarcastically. As if things weren't weird enough already, but he supposes it makes sense if people come and leave in similar fashion.

“Doesn't seem to be any rhyme nor reason to it, and we don't know where they go, so no point in worrying about it.” What difference will it make?

"You're probably right." It's certainly easier said than done, however, considering he's a certified worrier. It's true that there's nothing he can do to influence the outcome of any such happening, though, which isn't usually the case with the things he stresses about.

He might just try to ease his mind with some more potatoes.

“Of course I am,” Chloe says, smiling. “Want another drink?”

He exhales a little louder through his nose, which might be either amusement or slight frustration, but he doesn't seem to disagree with the sentiment.

"Sure," he says, pointing at whichever the non-alcoholic version was again, "That one, thanks." Doesn't make sense for him to use up the good stuff when someone else might actually get something from it.

Hot Potato (party log)

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We can probably wrap this one!

Yeah!