singillatim | Hot Potato (party log)

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.

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Oof, poor Randvi. Konstantin's heart squeezes a little at that — 'I try not to look too closely'. Admittedly, pining isn't something he ever had too much experience with. Anyone he had attention in always had it right back, or else he was the one being pined over.

...Never mind whatever's going on with Vasya. That isn't pining, clearly.

"I'm sorry, lisichka. The heart can be a cruel thing. It seems almost to have a will of its own."

Developing Feelings! How dare it...! Though he has to give a chuckle at that. "It's a shame I wasn't born a woman, in that case. We would have had fun together!

But there are other women here. Maybe you could still have some fun yet." He nudges her with his elbow, winking.

Randvi chokes out a shocked laugh. “Kostya! We very well may have. An expert…”

What a thing to have said. At nineteen she had thought she was an expert on everything.

“You sound like Thora, suggesting that to me. Do you really think any of the women here would want anything to do with me that way?”

He has to grin brightly at that, pleased to have gotten a laugh out of her, before his brows lift up.

"What! Why wouldn't they? I can't think of a single reason."

"We just agreed that many cultures disapprove,” Randvi points out. “And that's before we take into account my face.”

"But there's sure to be some that don't!" Konstantin beams, but the expression quickly pauses at that. "Your face? Because of your injuries? There's nothing unfavourable about that! You're gorgeous."

“I look horrible.” Perhaps hypocritical to say when she's in love with a woman whose epithet refers to the scars on her neck and scalp from a wolf attack, but at least in the end Eivor had claimed the victory. “But that's kind of you to say.”

Konstantin's brows lift, startled to hear such a word — horrible. He generally leans towards something light-hearted and playful, but almost as quickly, everything in him sobers to something much more serious instead.

"Horrible — you don't at all. Your younger self told me that you're a shieldmaiden — you're a warrior, aren't you? You've endured many things in this place as well. You're one of this community's strongest members. It's admirable."

“Thank you.” Hearing a statement like that from Kostya when he has gone through so much himself means a great deal to Randvi. “A shieldmaiden. I'm certain she didn't tell you that I was shot in the leg on my first raid. It was not very glamorous.”

He is here for trying to uplift Randvi. Hearing that she would describe herself as looking horrible sits uncomfortably in him like a heavy stone.

"It's just another testament to how tough you are!" He smiles, clasping a hand encouragingly to her shoulder. "I'm very sure that you've survived more wounds than most people in this place. We should all be looking to you."

But it isn't just her strength he wants to harp on.

"You also have such lovely hair. Thick and red, like a fox. Lisichka. It's very beautiful."

Randvi’s hair is a point of pride, so she can't help but preen a little. Even after everything that's happened she makes a point of taking care of it every day.

“Oh, say more things about me.”

He beams again, delighted at the encouragement and all too happy to continue it.

"Oh, I could happily go on and on! Your smile is so warm. It glows. And your eyes are electric." No matter that one might be concealed behind a patch now, Randvi's gaze is striking, bright green and intense.

"And your strength—! I'm afraid to go up against you. It's much better that I'm your friend than an enemy." He laughs, before the sound quiets again, and he smiles fondly.

"I am sure that anyone would be fortunate to share your company. I always enjoy it."

Randvi laughs along when he does, enjoying the lighthearted moment between them.

“Thank you for saying those things. I've spent so long feeling like no one sees me at all… At home the others leave for their adventures and I stay behind.”

She has to ask, though. “What does it mean, electric? Like the lamps?”

In truth, Konstantin has spent most of his adult life concerned with himself — how he's perceived by others, the image he's had to maintain. It isn't until coming to this place that he's really felt... detachment from that, and in turn, it's allowed him to perceive others, instead. To realise what it means to be proud of someone else. To feel genuine attachment for others, this way.

So he means what he says, and it's with a fond warmth underlying the light-hearted playfulness of his behaviour. His smile softens a bit at that, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"If you ask me, you certainly belong at the head of those adventures."

Then— "Oh, yes — that's exactly how it is. Lighting a room right up. That's what those eyes of yours feel like." He smiles again. "Perhaps there might be a young lady around here just waiting to blush in the face of them!"

Randvi really is gratified by the compliments, but she laughs again and shoves his shoulder. “Kostya! I think it's been years since anyone has blushed at the thought of me.”

"Well then there's a lot of making up for it, to be done! We'll find someone. I'm very good at that, you know."

“At what?” Randvi laughs. “Arranging matches for others?”

"Pinpointing lonely hearts just waiting for some company," he beams, almost proudly. "Just leave it to me. But don't worry. I'll be tactful."

He pauses, before adding. "Where I'm from, such things aren't met favourably, either. They're even criminalised. But they do happen, it's just carefully."

There are, in fact, non-straight couples in Soviet Russia.

“Yes,” Randvi agrees. “I think such things happen everywhere, but some people’s gods take too much of an interest in it.”

One of the Reeves of Lunden is a Christian in a relationship with another man and she really doesn't know how he manages it.

"That's just one reason I don't fool with gods too much," Konstantin smiles again, always so playful, though he truly means it beneath. He couldn't be less of A Believer.... even in this place, with its entities that may seem very god-coded. In his opinion, the Darkwalker's just a creature.

"Life is so short! We should enjoy it while we're able."

“Sometimes gods fool with you whether you like it or not.” Randvi doesn't even know how true this is at home, about herself.

“I do agree with you, though it is not always easy to enjoy life here. I suppose we all need to seize the opportunities we would not get at home.”

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Hot Potato (party log)

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