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It's snowing in Philadelphia too, and not just Portland, because this is a make-believe world and we can do whatever we want! So Ziv has stocked up on food of all sorts, called a bunch of friends, and said: come on over, we've got room, and if we get snowed in, it'll be fun! After all, they've got a Hollow they can open up for overflow for Changelings if need be.
Bundled up happily in a cardigan and a t-shirt that reads YOU ARE ENOUGH in rainbow-edged lettering along with comfy sweatpants, the mermx has made a large pot of fancy-pants cocoa out of actual factual real chocolate, and dished themself up a mug thereof. And lo, they wait, upon the couch, absently wiggling their toes in their fluffy pink socks.
Violette arrives at the door in a long wool skirt, boots, a long jacket, and all the hats and scarves and gloves necessary to adorn the proper locations on her body. She's so bundled up that none of the green glow from beneath her glass skin is showing except a band from the tip of her nose up to her eyes.
The SUV that dropped her off pulls away as she knocks on the door, but stops again down the block to wait in case she needs to be picked up again for some reason, like if Ziv's not home, but that's not likely to be necessary.
She knocks on the door when she reaches it, then shoves her gloved hands back into the pockets of her coat.
Hooray, guests! Well, one to begin with, at least. Ziv leaves their hot chocolate on the end table and pops up from their seat and pads soft-footed to the door in those comfy socks, peeking out the peephole before opening the door. "Hi, V!" they chirrup happily. It's cold and dark out but the house is warm and cozy. "Come on in. We'll have other people here soon, I hope." They smile, a broad beaming thing, and step back, holding the door for her. "I have house slippers, as per the usual, if you'd like, and there's hot chocolate on the stove."
Violette's eyes crinkle a bit as she smiles, even if the rest of the expression isn't visible, and she steps inside when the door is opened for her. "Hi Ziv," she replies. "I'd offer you a hug, but let me get out of all of this armor first, so you can hug the warm underlayer and not the freezing outer layer." She un-slings the bag she had over her shoulder and sets it down, then starts working on unzipping knee-high boots, shedding her coat and gloves and hat, and everything else. Winter weather makes anything involving the outdoors an ordeal!
"Hot chocolate sounds delicious," she says as she's doing that. "I'll definitely take you up on some of that. And on the slippers, even if I came prepared with extra thick thigh-high socks. It's like wearing mittens for my whole leg."
"Yeah, I like you but I don't want to hug your snow," laughs Ziv, that musical sound of bubbles tumbling up from under the water. Once she sheds her outer layer, they hang it up for her on the hooks behind the door, over top of the vent to help it dry out. After the outer layer is shed, though, they come in for a hug -- a proper one with a good squeeze. "I invited a bunch of people, but who knows who'll be able to brave the weather and who's on patrol and the lilke."
"Oh that sounds AWESOME. Where did you get them?" Ziv opens the hall closet and fetches out a pair of comfy black house slippers.
Once rid of the layers of warming clothes, under which Violette's wearing a very warm and comfortable looking slouchy black sweater, Violette returns the hug, along with the usual faint electric vibrating buzz that always comes when she comes in contact with someone. "Thank you," she says in her whispered voice. "For hanging that all up." She slides her feet into the slippers, then offers her elbow to Ziv with a hint of an impish smile. "Shall we move on to cocoa? I can smell it, and now I want it in my mouth. And a warm mug between my hands. The socks came from SockDreams, of course. The best place to find all things comfy sock related."
A big squeeze, and then Ziv leads the way into the kitchen, taking a side journey to pick up their own mug so they can refill it. Who makes a soup pot full of hot chocolate? Someone who invited like half a dozen people to their house, that's who. "Oh, of course. Who wants to put on a damp scarf?" They open the cupboard and gesture to a collection of brightly-colored and somewhat silly mugs with all kinds of slogans and pictures on them. "Grab a mug!"
"Oooh, SockDreams. I used to go wander around in their shop when I lived in Portland. I haven't ordered from there in a while. I should!"
Violette spends a moment studying the mugs, then pauses and grabs one from the shelf, which she holds up so that Ziv can see the text. Which is in Hebrew. "What's this one say?" she asks, curious. "And yeah, actually, I've been to their shop in Portland! When I was playing at Moda Center once. I don't think I got these socks there, though. I'm pretty sure I got these since I came back from the city. Good to know that you like socks, though. It's always useful to know what things people might enjoy as presents!" She lets out a laugh. "How things change from when I was a kid, and getting socks for a gift was the worst. Probably because they were always just boring plain socks."
"Kafe zeh emet," laughs Ziv. "Coffee is truth." They step back with their fresh cup of hot chocolate and lean against the wall, comfortable and content. It isn't until Violette has her own cup all prepped up that they pad back into the living room. "Yeah, though in retrospect, the socks my mom made were pretty awesome. I mean, they weren't cute, they were boring plain socks, but they were comfortable and very, very warm. But yes! Cute socks! Always an option."
Violette blinks glass eyes at the translation, cracks a smile, and turns the cup so that she can read the letters again. "That is truth!" she says with a laugh, and she decides to claim that mug for her own tonight. That important decision made, she servers herself some hot chocolate, wraps her glowing fingers around the mug, and joins Ziv in heading back to the living room. "Your mom made the socks? My mom only mended them when they got holes in them."
There’s a knock at the door, and when it’s opened, there stands Renault in a black wool overcoat, hat and gloves, smiling. He only has a dusting of snow on him, apparently he didn’t have to walk too far. “Hello, bonsoir. I hope everyone is staying warm.”
"Come in, come in!" Ziv gestures Renault inside and points to the hooks just inside the door and over one of the vents so everyone's coats dry off and stay toasty. "Once you're unwrapped I'll greet you properly, I don't want to get all covered in snow." They set their mug of hot chocolate next to their seat on the couch and wave one webbed hand between their guests. "Violette, this is Renault Caron, one of my sweethearts. This is Violette Farrow, who I think you know about, a friend and we're going to do some music together."
Violette might have been about to take a seat, but Renault showing up means she finds a spot to put her mug down and heads with Ziv toward the door, ready to enjoy introductions. She gives him a comfortable smile, carrying the ease of someone who is used to meeting a lot of strangers, often times in much less comfortable situations than this one. This one is pretty comfortable. Her expression lights up a little bit when she detects the accent, along with the greeting he offers. "Bonsoir," she answers, her hands moving in ASL to sign 'good evening' while she whispers the word in about as loud a whisper as she can manage, without actually engaging her vocal chords in the process. She continues to sign ASL while she speaks French, which means that Ziv can understand her even if Ziv doesn't known French. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Renault. I don't run into a lot of French speakers here."
Renault removes his hat, coat, and gloves, revealing he’s wearing a sweater and slacks tonight (still black, of course), and a ring Ziv hasn’t seen, gold set with a royal purple amethyst. He smiles brightly at Violette. ”Good evening again, Violette, it’s a pleasure to meet you, and a fellow French speaker.” He smiles to Ziv. “You have such lovey friends.”(edited)
The Siren flings their arms around Renault's neck as soon as he's got all his outerwear off, greeting him properly as promised with a noodle-armed hug and a smooch. They have the wimpiest little arms, it's true. "Oh! I didn't know you spoke French. I've thought about learning it. It's a fun language." They're apparently quite content to keep up with the conversation via ASL on Violette's side. "I do! Oooh, that's shiny." They grab hold of his hand to peer at the ring. "Amethysts are gorgeous."
Violette is in a long grey wool skirt, an oversized and very comfy looking black sweater, and a pair of extremely thick looking socks, plus some random accessories. It's not a particularly fancy outfit, but there's something about her that seems to draw attention even when she's trying to fade into the background. The kind of thing Renault might be familiar with in very old vampires, who have exceeded human norms and can't really interact with society in a normal way any more. In her case it's very casual, but it definitely shows in everything from the way she stands to the fluid, dance-like way her hands move through ASL. It can be hard to not pay attention to her.
"I learned from my parents. My mom is from near Nantes, and my dad's parents came over from France after the war," Violette explains, this time in whispered English and ASL. "They spoke French at home a lot, and I learned it from them. I've been speaking it since I was a kid. I've never been any good at trying to learn another language since, unfortunately. I took Spanish in school and I was terrible at it." Her gaze moves to the ring and she agrees, "that is lovely."
Renault chuckles and returns the hug and kiss, hand stroking the back of Ziv’s head as he holds them close. He’s grinning as he lets them go, and nods along at Violette’s explanation, eyes taking in that magnetic presence of hers. “Well, fortunately you’ve had a lovely language stick with you, you could have done far worse,” he replies with a little wink.
“Oh, this old thing?” He says of the ring, coyly. “It’s just a keepsake I thought I’d get out of storage since I’m dressing down tonight and all that.” He chuckles softly. “Purple is associated with my...family and the ring was a token of membership in a little study group I used to be in.”
They're delighted by the affection, of course: Ziv soaks in attention like a sponge, just eating it all up, and smooches his cheek again before stepping away and going to curl up on the couch. They tick their head to the side as Violette explains where she got the language from. Renault can see them affectionately roll their eyes at the 'this old thing' bit. "I see. Well, I'm glad you didn't put yourself out or anything," laughs the Siren. "There's hot chocolate in the kitchen and mugs in the cupboard next to the stove, if you want some."
Violette offers Renault both a shrug and a smile. "I guess I did. Fortunately, they had me learn it when I was little and my brainmeats were still more pliable." She turns to make her way over to the couch, where she picks up her mug, lowers herself down next to Ziv, and turns partly toward them for easier conversation. "You seem surprised about my origin story," she observes.
Renault takes off his shoes and heads to the kitchen, returning to sit on the other side of Ziv with a mug with a little hot chocolate in it. He seems content to listen to the talk of Violette’s background for the moment, and gives off a relaxed air.
Curled up in between two people is the best way for a Ziv to be right now, and they trill in the back of their throat, a happy little sound. "Oh! Not surprised, not at all. Just interested. I like listening to people talk and hearing about their lives." They lean their head against Renault's shoulder. "Is English your first language, or French? Or did you grow up speaking both?"
Violette takes a sip of her chocolate and makes a soft mmm as her eyes drift closed. "This is good, Ziv. Thank you," she whispers, and she leans her shoulder against the back of the couch as she turns more sideways to Ziv. There's still a bit of distance between her and them, like she's not really sure where the boundaries are in this situation, and she's making sure to be respectful of them when she isn't sure. "Where are you from originally?" she asks Renault, as curious about his origins as Ziv is. "And I'm pretty much an open book with my past. It's not like there isn't a biography at the bookstore anyway."
Renault lays his hand on Ziv’s arm and idly strokes their skin with his thumb. “Ah, Paris, home of my heart, as they say. Yes, I was born there, and spent most of my time there. Learned English and Latin after I got into school, and if you asked the aristocracy, I never learned to speak French properly,” he says with a grin and a wink. He smiles warmly at Violette, and gives Ziv’s arm a little squeeze.
"I mean, fair," agrees Ziv, "but it's still fun to ask." They sneak their toes out to poke at Violette's toes. Poke poke. "Why? If you grew up in Paris, how could you not have learned to speak French properly? That sounds very silly to me." They yawn, a content little sound, and sip their hot chocolate. "I grew up speaking Yiddish first and then English as I got older. And of course Hebrew lessons at school." They stick their tongue out at that. "The ASL was just practical, but I didn't learn that until I got back."
"Oh for sure," Violette agrees, and when her toes are poked, she slips her foot out of the slipper and rubs her besocked toes along the side of Ziv's foot. "I'd much rather have a conversation about our pasts than just tell you to go read my biography. Besides, there are secrets that I didn't share there, but I might if you're patient enough." she continues to whisper, while acting like she's not doing anything with her foot. "I don't think I've met someone before who I knew learned Yiddish as their first language. I'm sure I have, somewhere, at some point, but I didn't know it." She tilts her head and looks at Renault. "I don't know enough about French regional variations to know what my French sounds like, other than probably strange. I kind of learned it through an intergenerational game of telephone."
Renault chuckles and plays with a lock of Ziv’s hair. “Ah, that’s because I grew up with little, and talk like a sewer rat, as they say. They’re quite big in Paris, and rather eloquent, in my opinion,” he replies to Ziv.
“Mmm, your accent is fine, don’t listen to the snobs. It’s quite interesting, gives your speaking character.”
Bailey was a little confused about why they'd been invited out in the middle of a snow storm. Hell, she's still bewildered about anyone wanting to spend time with her, but she isn't going to complain about someone wanting them around. It was kind of nice, sometimes.
They certainly don't mix with the winter wonderland vibes, though--clad in dirty cowpoke clothes, sunbleached and filthy, save for the treasured black leather coat. Their hat has crow feathers sticking out of the band, and has snow built up along the top and brim as it falls down all around them. They walk through the snow and lift their hand to knock-knock at the door.
"Oh, well, rich people are always snobby about indicators of class, that's true."
And the knock on the door is Ziv's cue! Another knock at the door makes for a happy mermx. They take a swallow of their hot chocolate and pop to their feet, padding toward the door. Soft warm clothes and fluffy socks for the Siren today! They set their hot chocolate down on the side table and peek through the peephole. Opening the door, they crow, "Bailey! Come in. You can put your coat here, and your shoes here." A gesture to a row of coat hooks over a vent. "I've got house slippers if you need them." Which, oops, Ziv forgot to offer to Renault. They have their floof-brained moments now and again. "There's hot chocolate and friends and... come in!"
"Don't I know that," Violette whispers in agreement, as she lets out a soft sigh. "People learn it pretty early, too. I got teased for being poor constantly in school, and now that I'm 'important'," she makes finger quotes in the air, "everyone wants to act like I always have been. Even the people who were mean to me in school."
She stays seated when Ziv gets up to answer the door this time, where she smiles at Renault. "I'm not sure if you mean the actual literal sewer rats, or the other people who might be considered as such," she whispers in French.
Renault stays seated too, and leans to peak at who has arrived, before answering Violette. ”Oh, I was joking about the literal rats, but I was what was not-so-lovingly called gutter trash as a child, yes. Barely had a roof over my head. But that’s all ancient history now.”
He doesn’t seem too put out over the house slippers, his socks do look quite comfortable. They’re the fancy dress kind that wick moisture and are thicker but still breathe.
When Aaron finally turns up, he is dressed for the weather and carrying a shovel. Very likely, he'd been out cleaning off the walks and drives of the Blue Haired Bubbe Squad. He leaves the shovel out front, though, and steps inside all rosy cheeked and red nosed. He begins to unwind his scarf and unzipper his coat and the like, stomping his boots to clear them of snow. "I'm here! The party can become awkward now!"
"Howdy," Bailey replies to Ziv, tipping her hat at them--which causes a clump of snow to fall off the hat. They frown, taking it off entirely to shake snow off, and brushing snow off their coat--then steps inside. "Huh..." The offers of house slippers and hot cocoa earns Ziv a brief blank stare, but they do hang up their coat and slip off their muddy wet boots--but leave the crow-feathered hat on. "Sounds nice." A beat pause. "Have the slippers been worn before?"
She moves further in, following Ziv, and gives a tip of her hat towards Renault and Violette, eyeing the... very Wyrd lady a moment. Though as she realizes that Renault doesn't have a mien--and then Aaron too, she gives Ziv a questioning glance.
"Um... yes! We keep them for guests, but I do clean them," offers Ziv, not really understanding the crux of the question. They scurry off to the kitchen to grab a hand towel and clean up the snow on the floor. Ziv is apparently quite content to be a hausfrau host at the moment. "Aaron!" they crow happily when the Obrimos lets himself in. "Once you have your coat off I will greet you properly! I'm all warm and don't want to get covered with snow. Your house slippers are in the closet." Of course Aaron has his own pair, and of course a house in which a cowboy samurai lives is one where people wear house slippers and not their outside shoes.
Violette nods and offers Renault a friendly smile, with just a hint of mischief. "That's what I thought you meant," she says. "Most of my troubles there are ancient history, too, but I never forget where I came from."
She looks toward the door, at the stranger there who just arrived, and the weight of her attention is an almost palpable thing. There's an undeniable presence to her, making her the kind of person who probably can't ever sneak into a room without everyone's eyes moving her way. Fortunately, the weight of her gaze also comes with a warm and welcoming smile on lips that, to Bailey, appear like glass containing neon green light. She wiggles her fingers in a greeting and speaks in a whisper, while starting to sign along with the words. "Hello, Ziv's friend! And Aaron!"
Renault gaze isn’t nearly as potent, but his eyes are magnetic in their own way, inky pools that draw you in. He smiles warmly and winks at Bailey. “Howdy, partner.” His attempt at a drawl sounds horrifying, combined with his rough and purring French accent. “And hello, Aaron, though it’s been months since we briefly met, if I’m recalling correctly.”
"Hello again," Aaron offers to Renault with a smile, "it's been a while, yeah. Life's been a little hectic." Once he's got the scarf and coat hung up, the gloves go into the pockets. Then he's sitting down on the boot bench to unlace his timbs and tug them off his feet. He's down to jeans and a flannel shirt and his yarmulke. He looks like a gay Jewish lumberjack, complete with squared off beard. "Hello, ma'am. Hello, hello, and hello, all of you." Aaron then hops up to his feet and tip toes out of the entry way around the accumulating wet slush and snow slurry on the tiles.
She nods at Ziv's reply, and is happy to accept a pair of the house slippers, putting them on. She stares down at her feet a moment, toes wiggling inside them, then focuses back on the strangers greeting her.
Having never been around someone who signs regularly, clearly, Violette's signing makes them look bewildered for a beat, staring at her hands. "Howdy. I'm Bailey."
Renault's attempt at the accent just earns him... a stare.
First, after he's out of the slush zone, Ziv flings their arms around Aaron's neck and smooches him soundly, which is the appropriate greeting for an Aaron, apparently: clinging like a limpet. Once that's done, they roll back to their feet. "There's hot chocolate in the kitchen and mugs in the cabinet over the stove," they explain. "Violette took one of the 'Kafe Zeh Emet' mugs, but there's still one." This, for Aaron, because who doesn't want a 'Coffee Is Truth' mug?
"Right, so. I'm just gonna introduce everyone to make sure y'all know each other. Rabbi Aaron Cohen, Bailey Straw, Violette Farrow, Renault Caron, and, well, I mean you all know me because I invited you."
"I'm Violette," says Violette, in her whispered voice. Her hands move through the introduction in ASL at the same time, though she just signs 'V' for her name there. "Nice to meet you," she continues.
She reaches over for her mug when it's mentioned, like she was just reminded about it, and she leans back to sip it. When Ziv points out her name she raises one hand like 'yep, that's me'.
Renault raises his hand to being called out as well, smiling. “I also answer to ‘That Bastard Frenchman’ and ‘Lestat, like from that movie’,” he adds with a grin.
"No idea who Lestat is," Bailey says with a shrug. After a beat, as if belatedly remembering that they should at least try to be social, "Nice to meet ya'll."
She heads for the kitchen, hunting down hot chocolate. There's some rummaging as she opens the cabinet door to peer inside at the mugs, looking over the options, then selects one to pour hot chocolate into.
"Why would you answer to that? That's very demeaning of you." Aaron asks the question of Renault as though legitimately curious. "Are you actually a bastard?" He sounds dubious. Once the hug and the smooch are exchanged, Aaron tromps off to the couch to settle in and find himself an afghan to cover his lap with. Because he's cold. "Likewise! Nice to meet you all." He blows into his hands a bit, rubbing them together.
"He's a vampire from the movie Interview with a Vampire. We'll have to watch it sometime if you missed the movie, it's one of those like... cultural touchstone kind of things." Joyeux gotta Joyeux, after all. Ziv swooshes off to the kitchen to fetch hot chocolate for cold rabbis and also to refill their own mug. This may in fact be the effects of too much chocolate and lots of friends on a Siren: small amounts of zoomies. "Yay, friends, we can be snowed in now! Hopefully Eko will be home and then it will be everybody."
"I was assuming you meant the bastard part was demeaning, and not the Frenchman part," Violette says to Aaron with whisper and hand. She shifts around a bit to make sure there's a good space for Aaron. "It's good to see you again. How have you been? I loved that movie, once upon a time," she adds, addressing the whole 'Lestat' thing. "I haven't thought about it in ages, though. i wonder if it still holds up at all."
Rieko isn't really supposed to spend all that much time Ironside on account of all the odd looks she gets, but that isn't going to stop her from running (probably literally) to the local Giant Eagle (?) for corn chips and spicy salsa. Especially if there's a dang get-together in her own goshdarned apartment. Ziv barely has time to say that last line, though, because Rieko arrives with snacks in her arms. Today, she's wearing a drape-y hakama with a wave pattern, a crop top and harem pants. No shoes. Just flip-flops. No, that outfit should not have worked outside in the show, but that doesn't seem to have bothered her in the slightest.
"Oh." Their shoulders lift. "I've pretty much missed... all movies. Save for some Westerns that I watched with Rieko." SPEAK OF THE DEVIL.
She carries the steamy mug into the living room and ends up finding a place to lean against a wall, taking a testing sip before looking over towards Rieko. The oni gets, gasp, a faint smile in greeting, and a little tip of her hat.
Renault grins a little. “I am, in fact, a bastard of the literal variety, and I’ve been called the colloquial kind before, but that’s a story for another time, I think.” He smiles to Ziv and then nods to Violette. “It does, provided you’re prepared for people making bad decisions, which is part of the point of the movie.”
Rieko gets a smile and a little wave, the two have met even if they didn’t really get a chance to meet. Renault seems to shrink slightly as the apartment fills up, as if the presence of so many is displacing him slightly.
Giant, or Weis, or Wegman's, but same idea, really. Ziv lights up -- literally, to the eyes of the Lost -- once more as the door opens. "Ekooooo!" the Siren trills happily, setting down their hot chocolate once more so they can go and just fling themself bodily at the incoming oni. Is time for face smooches. "Everyone is here that we invited, the hot chocolate is made, I will probably have to make some more, and now there are snacks!" They don't seem fazed by her clothing. After a while, you just get used to Eko being Eko.
"What are we going to do now that everyone is here?" Violette asks with a look around, which includes a wave of her hand at Rieko. "Are we going to play truth or dare, or something? That would take me back to my middle and high school slumber parties, at least." It's hard to tell whether she's being serious or not, but the impish smile does kind of suggest that she might be joking. Maybe. She picks her mug up again to sip more hot chocolate and waits to see if Ziv had anything in mind.
If one has ever been the super normal person in a group of strange persons with whom you share very little weirdness, one will recognize the particular rictus of a smile Aaron is wearing as he relaxes into the couch. Violette's question receives a glance and a shrug of the shoulders. "I think this is just a secret ploy to get me to shovel the driveway."
Rieko tips her battered hat at Bailey, and offers a little wink. It's a subtle greeting, but before she can do more than just reciprocate, Ziv practically tackles her. Fortunately, she's got that Wits 6 going on, so she had the foresight to set the snacks down so the chips didn't get all smooshed. Greetings are returned, and smooches are given, and Rieko slinks the rest of the way inside.
"Truth or Dare sounds fun. So does Aaron shoveling the driveway, honestly, but that's just because I really don't want to do it."
Renault shrugs. “Truth or Dare sounds like it would be fascinating, with the people we have here. I’m also not opposed to shoveling the driveway, it’s not too much trouble. It might take me a while with all the snow, though.”
The white and gold neon that splashes along Ziv's cheeks turns briefly bright pink and rose at the suggestion of Truth or Dare. "... what?" They're familiar, of course, but apparently in Ziv's world this is something that only happens in 1980s movies. "... well no of course not, I can shovel the walk," they huff at Aaron, sticking their tongue out at him. The Siren is a little distracted, having kind of a hard time tracking everything now that there are a lot of people, but still in quite good cheer. They go to retrieve their hot chocolate. "I don't know, I just wanted people to meet each other and stuff. There are too many good people in my life that don't know each other." Drifting from the doorway, they stop by Aaron and lean to kiss the top of his head, a little reassurance, perhaps. "But now you do! So I win."
"I can help with shoveling, too," Violette offers. "I'm not sure how many shovels there are, but we can take a rotation if we need to, right?" She smiles when people think the Truth or Dare suggestion isn't a terrible idea. "I think we might have to set some boundaries if we played that, like people being allowed to decline sharing truths that they aren't supposed to share, but it might be fun. I'm open to other ideas, though. I'm also happy to just hang out, or whatever."
"I've... never played Truth or Dare," Bailey admits, half cautious, half curious. After a sip of hot chocolate, "Sounds kind of self explanatory?"
"I've been playing a stupid amount of Samurai Shodown lately, because the weather is miserable and nobody's coming out to see shows. I could utterly thrash each and every one of you if you wanted to play, but I don't think that would be very fun for anybody but me." Rieko offers a puff of laughter from the kitchen as she doctors a cup of tea for herself, and pops open the salsa.
"It is pretty self-explanatory, but... boundaries would be good. I think I may have already used up enough of my good faith and credit by going to get snacks."
Renault nods. “Nothing that would violate oaths or require sharing secrets that aren’t theirs to share or would endanger themselves or their people, at the discretion of the one being asked, sounds pretty reasonable. It’s meant to be a fun game, after all.”
"I could do truth or dare. I could also cook up some grub for us, if you wanted. I don't know what you've got in your cupboards, but apple cake or rugelach would be perfect in this weather. Maybe mahtzoh ball soup. Probably won't have what I need for traditional hamentaschen, but the season approaches." Aaron gives Ziv a smile when they come by for reassurance. "I'm just here to keep everyone company."
She looks between the others, then shrugs. "Sounds fine with me. Don' know much else to do at times like this. Ain't used to bein' around a lotta folk."
"Both of those things are possible! I like cooking, and we can do both. Or whatever. I just want everyone to be happy," confesses Ziv, trailing their fingers through Aaron's hair, more soothing, and also, though they're probably not thinking about it in those terms, overt and direct interaction with one of their Touchstones. Hooray! "I think that's pretty reasonable, in terms of... terms."
"I'm also happy with whatever," Violette whispers, before taking another sip of her hot chocolate. She's starting to run low on this particular mug. "Some home cooked food sounds delicious. Come to think of it, I think it has been a long time since someone made me home cooked food, other than myself. The last time I was over here we ordered sushi." She gives Rieko a smile and says, "I understand the struggle of trying to blend in and not cause problems. I really wish I could go out dancing without it being an ordeal."
Rieko grabs the chips and salsa, and slides them around the counter over towards Bailey. She wiggles a chitinous brow at the scarecrow and gestures to the snacks.
"It's a real struggle. Especially when my primary source of income is busking and playing in coffee shops and what-not," she offers to Violette. "... I should do what Orville Peck does and wear a mask, maybe." She pauses, chewing thoughtfully at her bottom lip. "... that might make it worse, actually."
“Truth or Dare it is, I think, unless there are any objections. Who wants to go first? And we can break for food, obviously, if we get graced with some home cooking,” he says with a nod to Aaron.
“Why would a mask be worse?” he asks, tilting his head.
"Orville Peck gives off an unsettling vibe, I guess? Plus the mystery of who he is just drives people to pay even closer attention." Rieko pauses for a moment, squinting off away from the group with a conspiratorial expression. Probably not at Orville Peck, specifically. Probably. "... come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen him in person. That might be more than a mask."
"Well, I like sushi. But we shouldn't order tonight because that would force some poor delivery person to be out in the snow and the ice, and I just can't conscience that. Even for delicious raw fish." The Siren clicks their teeth together hungrily, and reaches to snag their cup from the side table, bringing it up for a sip of hot chocolate while they lean comfortably against Aaron, sort of sidling toward lap-sitting. "I guess more of a reason for us to record, Violette, so we don't have to worry about money so much for the house." A stretch of their shoulders. "I mean, for me, anyway."
"I'm not going first! Someone else can. I set up the party, I don't have to go first." There's some sort of logic there.
"I can tell you from experience that getting more of a following in the queer community is not the best way to avoid attention," Violette says to Rieko with a laugh. "Trust me on this one. That kind of mask is going to do just that, I'm pretty sure." She finishes off her mug of chocolate and gets up to bring the mug to the kitchen. "I would be delighted if our working together launches you enough of a career to make money not be a concern. But I'm also willing to pay you for your help, of course."
She sets the mug down and comes back. "Why don't you go first, Renault?" she urges.
She eyes Rieko thoughtfully, as if trying to imagine her in a mask... Then shakes her head. "Yeah, I think hidin' your face would just make you... more not... normal."
"I ain' goin' first, I don' even know how the game is played," she mutters, then looks expectantly towards Renault.
“Ok, ok, it’s what I get, I suppose,” he says with a little smile. “Hmmmm....Truth, then. But you all have to pick one question.”
And this is Aaron's cue to rise from the couch and toddle off into the kitchen to see what ingredients lurk about that he might turn into baked goods. A far more productive use of his time than embarrassing himself by trying to initiate a truth or dare game. "I think this game tends to go over better with people who are still discovering who they are and heaping loads of sexual tension. It's been a while."
"I thought that you were supposed to pick someone to ask," Ziv offers, sliding into Aaron's spot on the couch now that he's gotten up, sipping their hot chocolate and letting Aaron take over their kitchen. They stick their tongue out at Renault. "But I have only seen it played on television and movies."
They look over their shoulder toward the kitchen, calling with an impish curl in their tone, "Are you saying we don't have heaping loads of sexual tension anymore, Aaron?" They press their hand to their chest in mock-wounding.
The mention of sexual tension has Bailey frowning briefly, but they hide the look behind another sip of their hot chocolate. "You really a vampire?" she asks Renault. Seems a good enough simple start to things.
"I find the 'truth' part is the more interesting than dares. Especially when people are more confident in who they are, and are more capable of introspective answers," Violette says as she sits down on the floor in front of the couch, legs bent to her side since she's wearing a long skirt. "I think there are a variety of ways people play this game, though. One time I played it, we wrote questions and dares on slips of paper and selected them randomly for each person." She tilts her head and considers Renault before asking, both signing and whispering, "what's something you have a strong emotional attachment that we're not likely to expect?"
“Oh, that’s fair, we didn’t really talk about how we were going to play...I figured we would just go around the room, and people would agree on what to ask,” he says with a shrug and smile. “But no matter. Yes, I am a ‘vampire’ as we are colloquially known.” He smiles, and his canines become long fangs, slender and graceful, with a little snikt like in the movies. “And I am overly fond of...” he glances at Ziv. “A painting of me an old friend made.”
Renault is definitely not associated or inspired in any way by the fact his face claim played Dorian Grey ))
"Oh I don't know. I think it's fun however we play," offers Ziv drily, "since the point is mostly to just spend time with people." They curl their legs up underneath themself, snagging the afghan and pulling it over their lap, and glancing aside at Bailey when they ask. The glance from Renault is returned, and they smile a little bit.
"Huh..." Bailey stares at Renault when he flashes the fangs, blinking slowly. "Don' think I've ever met a vampire."
"We can just ask each other questions and dispense with the game part of it," Violette says as one shoulder lifts and falls in a slight shrug. "Spending time together and getting to know each other more is most of the point, for me. But if we want to continue with the truth or dare thing, maybe we should establish how we're doing it?" Her eyes shift to Bailey and then back to Renault. "I haven't either. At least not that I knew of. I'm sure I probably met a vampire at one point or another, somewhere in the world, and just didn't know they were a vampire."
"You get used to it," Aaron asides to Bailey in a manner that implies people keep telling him that, and so he repeats it without a lot of conviction that it's actually the case. Because he clearly hasn't, either. "I think the only thing you can really count on any more is that you can't count on much any more." He continues sifting through the cupboards for ingredients, collecting them into little clusters on the counter.(edited)
Renault’s fangs go away, and he leans back in his seat. “It’s true, we prefer going unnoticed, at least as our kind. If you’ve ever meet a record executive who kept odd hours, or the queen of a local arcade, or something, there’s a decent chance they were a vampire.”
"Meeting other supernatural types is a lot like meeting queer and trans people in that if you think you are meeting one for the first time, you definitely aren't, just the first one that told you so!" Ziv pops up from their chair with an empty mug, making a softly-padding circuit of the room and distributing affection on their way back to the kitchen. Soft patpats for Bailey and Violette's arms, kisses for Renault and Rieko. "Or a Darkling!" agrees Ziv. "But I guess you'd know if they were a Darkling, Bailey, unless they had their Mask raised." Once they get to the kitchen, they kiss the round of Aaron's shoulder and ask, "What can I help you find, my love?"
"To be fair, don' meet many folks in general," they admit with a shrug. "But guess you're right. Ain' no way to know that, for sure."
Violette reaches up to let her fingertips brush along Ziv's arm as they go by, while she smiles up at them, and then she lets the conversation reclaim her attention again. "I did have a one night stand want to drink my blood once, but I'm pretty sure that she wasn't actually a vampire, just someone with some unusual tastes. That's not really my thing, though. That didn't end up happening."
"I'm just seeing what you have the ingredients for. So I'm not really sure yet? Brown sugar, baking soda, confectioner's sugar, baking powder, that sort of stuff. If you have any fruit, I could maybe make a compote to use in making hamentaschen." Aaron begins hunting down mixing bowls now that Ziv is here to assist with the cookery. "But I agree. Turns out most of the people I hung out with were supernatural and I didn't even know it."
Renault chuckles at Violette’s story, shaking his head. “It’s always fascinating to hear about what’s existence for you has become fetish for someone else. Not always pleasant, of course, but fascinating.” He sips at the now cold hot cocoa in his mug. “Well, do we want to devolve into just asking each other questions, with the same limitations we talked about? I’m good with that. As long as Ziv still dares me to kiss them later,” he adds, raising his voice slightly to be clearly heard as he speaks towards the kitchen.
"Oh! I can help with that," agrees Ziv, and they start bustling around. There's a cabinet full of baking supplies, because Ziv does have their hausfrau moments, and from this, Ziv produces plastic containers of brown sugar, confectioner's sugar, a box of baking soda, a tin of baking powder. "I have raspberries because I'm kind of addicted to them, and some blackberries I picked up yesterday for variety." They scurry off toward the fridge to gather up ingredients. There's a brief brilliant neon-pink flush of lights reflected in their river-water-in-a-glass-bottle body when Violette talks about blood-drinking and it not really being her thing, but there's no commentary on that. "I don't think that requires a dare, Renault!" they chirrup.
"I dare you to kiss Ziv," Violette challenges Renault. "So there." She turns over her shoulder to look at Ziv. "If it wasn't so weirdly clinical and actually involved sustenance for someone I was into, that might be another story. I don't know." She shifts her weight so that her bent legs are on the other side of her body instead, to keep from cutting off any circulation.
Bailey's nose wrinkles a bit at the topic of non-neccessary blood drinking, but doesn't comment. She finishes down the hot chocolate, then steps into the kitchen briefly to put the mug into the sink.
Renault nods. “There’s a fair amount of nuance in the dynamics of feeding partners. It’s a physical intimacy, but it’s not necessarily tied to other forms of it, and like other forms of physical intimacy, everyone has their own feelings about it.” He shrugs. “But, don’t let me derail conversation, I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea to talk about such things,” he says with a little nod to Bailey.
Fussing around in the kitchen, Ziv collects all of the things Aaron asked for, and leans against the counter. They take a deep breath, and, blushing furiously enough that it hits their Mask briefly, offer, "If you can take care of yourself, and it won't permanently hurt you in any way, which is the case for me, it is -- enjoyable? I mean, it's physically pleasant in the moment, yes, but knowing that you're able to provide for someone that you care about, so they don't have to predate on other living beings, and there's net zero hurt, that's -- actually very mentally fulfilling. It aligns with my values in a way that I sometimes find hard to put into words." And then they turn and busy themselves with refilling their mug of hot chocolate.
Violette glances around, stops with her eyes on Bailey, and looks away. "Sorry," she says. "My thoughts and my brain tend to get away from me, and I have a habit of not really thinking about how people will react before I speak. I didn't mean to make anyone uncomfortable." She looks at Bailey again and smiles at her. "You said that you missed a lot of movies, and you're not familiar with Truth or Dare. Are you someone kind of out of your era, too?" Changing the subject a bit!
"I'm not uncomfortable," Bailey replies with a shrug. "Just don't get it. To each their own, though."
She pauses a beat, then nods faintly. "Yeah. Missed a century or so. Still not really... caught up yet."
Renault looks to the kitchen, smiling warmly, clearly fondly thinking on Ziv’s words, before looking back to the conversation in the living room. “Oh, a century? Well, then, it’ll be just like catching up one of mine. You have a lot of movies and music to catch up on, that should be fun. I’m a tad jealous, there are a few things I’d love to see and hear for the first time again.”
The Siren clears their throat, quietly, before retreating to a spot on the couch with their hot chocolate; they pull a blanket up over their lap and curl their webbed hands around their mug. Flashes of pink and red neon slide over their skin and they sort of just... look off to one side, absently gnawing their lower lip.
"You know," Violette's whispering voice says thoughtfully, as her hands work through the sign for the same words, which are directed at Bailey. "There's something a little comforting for me, personally, that you're not up on popular culture. Do you know who I am?" Her appearance starts to shift as magic washes over her and shifts her appearance from her Mien to her Mask, something that only the Lost in the room will be able to see, even if Aaron can sense it. "Don't worry if the answer is 'no', I won't be offended! It sounds like it would be hard to miss that much time, though. My sympathies, and I'd be happy to help you catch up, too. I only missed a few months, even though I was away for decades as I perceived it." Her head tilts and then turns to look at Renault. "Do your people have trouble keeping up?"
"Reiko has helped me, a little, but... It feels like pourin' a glass of water down an empty well." Her shoulders lift. "Honestly, I ain't too concerned with keepin' up. Figure it's gonna be impossible to be like all the young new folk runnin' around, so... Eh. Might as well embrace it. But... experiencin' new things is nice, sometimes." She looks to Violette and stares blankly, then squints after a moment. "Am I supposed to know who you are? Ain't got no idea."
Renault reaches to gently stroke Ziv’s arm, still smiling warmly. To Violette he responds, “Ever seen Underworld, the movie? We can sleep like that, though usually not so long. And we can’t conveniently drink someone’s blood to catch up on everything.”
He smiles to Bailey. “I can understand, feeling like you’ll never catch up. And yes, you’ll probably never be a hip kid. But, it helps you connect to people, both normal humans and the Children of the Night, or supernaturals, if you will. And I hope it is fun, and doesn’t feel like a chore; I don’t think you should have to feel like an empty well, is all.”
"If it's not too big of a deal for you, then it's not. But it can be fun to play catch-up. I kind of needed to because of the job that I perform for our community, and helping people catch up is part of that. But, like... " A little shrug from Ziv, there. They tip their head toward Renault, offering him a smile in response to the petting. "Violette is a pop star," they fill in for Bailey. "Like, very famous."
"Supposed to? Not necessarily," Violette says with a smile and a shrug, then a glance at Ziv when they fill in the detail, before she continues speaking to Bailey. "It's pretty common that people do, but it's not like everybody does. You may have heard some of my music playing on the radio, or in stores, or in bars and clubs, but it's understandable if you haven't put a face to that. Or even known the name of the artist. Anyway, my particular view on catching back up is that you should make sure that it's fun, not a chore. Watch movies if you like watching movies, and figure out what you like and watch more of that. Listen to the music that you like, and be okay not liking everything. Or anything. Decide who you are, then embrace who you are unapologetically."
Renault nods and smiles. “Mmhmm, as Violette says, have fun finding out what you like and who you are. What kind of music do you like? Either new ones, or ones from your previous time.”
"Sometimes its fun. Sometimes it feels like a chore. Depends on what it is, and who is showin' it to me." Her arms cross over her chest, shoulders lifting. She looks to Ziv and nods faintly. "That makes sense. For me... it makes things harder, sure--but I spend most of my time in the Thorns anyway." Which, you know, is totally healthy.
"...Pop star. Huh." She eyes Violette thoughtfully. "Sounds like a shitty gig, no offense. But you're right. Just gotta be... fun."
Then to Renault, "Eh... Rieko has shown me some music I like. Don't really know all the words to... classify it all. But I usually like old stuff. Country, things with... guitars. Uh--" She pauses. "Acoustic, that's the word."
The thing about Ziv's eyes in their Mien is that they're totally black until the Siren looks directly at someone and makes eye contact, and then the shockingly-white hollow irises of their eyes swim up out of the darkness, briefly and brilliantly apparent. They make eye contact with Bailey, looking at her for a long moment. "Spending most of your time in the Thorns is more concerning to me than not knowing about pop culture stuff," Ziv offers mildly, sipping at their cocoa. "You and Eko spend a lot of time in the Hedge and that's not always -- the healthiest for us." And apparently Ziv is the self-appointed brain-guarder of The Old Guard. Ironic, considering their current Clarity, but that's neither here nor there, is it?
"I love acoustic country. 9/11 ruined country music, honestly, and it's only starting to crawl back to its roots now."
Renault nods and taps his chin. “Well, I’m not as practiced with the guitar, but I’m always happy to play a little music for someone, if you’d ever like, Bailey,” he says with a warm smile. “That sounds like it could be a ton of fun, helping someone figure out like what music they like. Not that I’m pushing myself on you for that, I just like the idea. Though I would be willing,” he clarifies with a grin.
The scarecrow bristles a little as Ziv makes that intense eyecontact. It's almost humorous, almost like a cat puffing up, their straw bristles standing on end briefly. The Summer clearly has a hard time not getting defensive to such comments, but she doesn't argue. Just eyes the Siren for a moment quietly. This conversation was perhaps best saved for a more private time.
Bailey clearly has no idea what Violette is talking about with The Voice, but she listens anyway. "Don't think I could get up in front of people like that. Just feels like... someone rubbin' my straw the wrong way."
She stares at Renault for a long second, then shrugs. "Sure. Why not."
The look that Ziv gives Bailey back is accompanied by a smile to soften it, but definitely has that yes we will talk about this later in their eyes. "I adore you," they offer to Bailey, another drop of sweetener on top of their defensiveness-causing concern. "And Eko does, too. So." That's where they leave it, apparently.
"Well, some of us like the attention, and for those of us who do like the attention, not getting it feels like being in dark water." A little shrug of their shoulders there. "And you're surrounded by people who love music, so getting us to play isn't so much convincing us to as... not being annoyed when we do?" A little curl of laughter.
"It's not attention that I thrive on, but human connection," Violette explains to Ziv, while focusing the heavy weight of her attention on Ziv. Giving some of that very attention, along with a slightly crooked smile. While her eyes slowly move down Ziv's body and back up, even as she's pretending she acts like she's not doing anything. "Seeing a crowd moving to the rhythm I've put in their heads, or hearing them sing along, is... amazing." She looks around at the everyone. "I'm always happy to play with other people. I usually don't sing any more, though."
In fact, Ziv is one of the only people who has heard her sing since she returned a couple of years before.
Renault grins brightly. “Excellent!” He leans over to murmur in in Ziv’s ear, loud enough for others to hear. “You wouldn’t happen to have a piano or violin tucked away, would you?” He smiles and sits back up a bit. “It is nice to play with others, and have people enjoy your music,” he says with a nod. “Oooh, I just had and idea. But it’s a surprise,” he says, grinning wickedly at Ziv.
When Ziv says I adore you, they're met with an absolutely bewildered expression. There's practically ??????s over her head. But confusion is at least better than aggression!
"Ya'll are welcome to the attention. Most of the time, I just wanna be left alone. Better with animals than I am people."
"Attention and human connection are pretty similar for me," answers the Siren quietly, turning their face toward Violette. The weight of her attention sort of ... completely sidelines their brain for a moment, and their river-in-a-bottle body is lit up by rose and gold neon, lights flashing through as if something's flying overhead and casting lights down on the river. "... yeah." They clear their throat, their brain slowly coming back online. "... I have my guitar that Aaron gave me? I thought about buying a new violin so I could ... be better at it again, but... I didn't yet." And then they blink rapidly. "A surprise? Okay." And then, finally, they offer Bailey a lopsided little smile again. "You should meet Aaron's dog. Chewda Macabee is the cutest little ball of fur."
"There's nothing wrong with that, Bailey," Violette assures. "I've had friends who are pretty introverted, and I understand! With a couple of them, we'd sometimes have hangouts where we intended to not really interact. I'd work on music, or watching videos on YouTube, or whatever, and they'd hang out and do their own thing, and we wouldn't talk for hours, because they liked to be around people without feeling an obligation to interact with them, or pay attention to each other. Just to not be a lone. I think it's great if you find what works best for you, and your mental health, and then build relationships that make that possible."
She looks at Renault and then at Ziv. "Maybe we should do our next snowed-in night at my place, with all these musicians. We might have an album by morning."
Renault nods. “Ooh, it’s a date, then, yes. We’ll have a, ah....a jam session, yes.” He laughs brightly. “Make an album for our impromptu garage pop funk band. It’s perfect.”
"That... sounds pretty nice, actually," Bailey muses, never having thought about being around people while not having to be with people. Then to Ziv, she perks a little at the mention of Chewie. "Oh. I like dogs."
"It is pretty nice to just be in a place with people and not have to worry about having to perform. The psychological term for it is 'parallel play', you see it a lot with kids. But it's really comforting to do it with adults too. Just all be in the living room kind of doing our own things." Or sitting next to each other typing at some sort of internet thing. Like people do. Ziv sips at their cooled hot chocolate and leans in against Renault. "We could totally do some sort of jam session, that would be awesome. Aaron plays, too, and Eko does also." A little smile aside for Bailey again. "Chewie is like... the best of all dogs. I'm biased, of course, because he's my sweetheart's dog, but."
"Do you have a cell phone?" Violette asks Bailey. "I spend a lot of time at home, just working on various projects. I can give you my number, and you can come by and just hang out if you want to be around people without any obligation to have conversations or anything. Or I can do all the talking, if you'd prefer that. I'm pretty good at just talking to myself."
"Hanging out and playing some music with new friends sounds wonderful," she admits to the group. "I've missed doing that with other musicians so much."
Renault gets up to get a little more hot cocoa and get a whiff of the food, returning and cuddling back up to Ziv. “It is nice to just...be with people sometimes, it’s true. Definitely less lonely than being holed up in one’s apartment, reading, as relaxing as that can be.”
Bailey pulls out a cell phone--its surprisingly nice and new, despite their appearance. They don't bother trying to navigate putting in Violette's number, they just hand the phone towards her. "I don't much like sittin' in one place for too long, but guess I wouldn' mind sittin' and... cleanin' my gun, or working on making something for a while, while someone does somethin' else. But if ya wanna talk, ya can talk."
"What would you prefer to do?" Ziv queries of Bailey, curling back in against Renault once he sits down again. Their webbed hands stay curled around their mug, and they sip a bit more of the sugary concoction, as if they haven't had enough already.
"With others?" they confirm.(edited)
"Yeah," agrees Ziv, to keep the conversation moving.
"You don't have to stay long, either," Violette says with a shrug. "Come by, spend as long as you like, take off. Just... please call first. I don't do very well with unexpected guests."
She does take the phone and program her number in, and then offer it back. She definitel ydoesn't turn off the screen.
Renault kisses Ziv’s hair and sips at his mug, relaxing against them as he listens to the conversation and thinks.
She considers that a moment. "Be nice to go huntin' with someone, sometime. Or go to a shootin' range. Or just... go for a ride on Buck."
"Well," offers Ziv. "I'm not so good at hunting or going to a shooting range, but I can certainly try something new, if you'd like. And I'm actually a rather capable Hedge navigator, as is often necessary for a healer, so, going for a ride on Buck sounds really fun actually!"
"I've never been to a shooting range," Violette admits. "I'd be interested to learn, but I don't want to own a gun." If she doesn't even realize that you can usually rent one, she definitely has no idea what she's talking about when it comes to guns. "If you wanted to teach me, I might be interested in doing that. As long as it's not going to damage my hearing. Who's Buck?"
“Is Buck a motorcycle, or horse? And I never got into shooting, but I hear going to a range can be quite fun, even for amateurs and non-gun users. Could be a nice outing.”
"I could teach ya. Could borrow mine, though... it shoots hard. Could maybe find a normal one for practice," she muses. "Buck is my... well, he's like a gryphon, but mostly crow. Big cuddly fucker, real sweetie. But he can't leave the Thorns. I'm up for rides with ya anytime, Ziv."
"Buck is pretty. I saw him... once? I think? He's like a big... yeah. Big crow gryphon. He's very very pretty." Ziv sighs happily about Buck; apparently they like people's pets. "Well, we should definitely do that!"
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