Event Log: A Hope for the Future

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the A Hope for the Future event
Where: All over the city!
When: April 15th-April 19th
Warnings: Stealth Rock

It's finally time to reap the rewards you've earned from all that hard work collecting and returning the Hope orbs! Be careful walking the streets during the small earthquakes, but feel free to admire the scenery as your beautiful city reassembles its way back into its former glory.

There are new houses where the destroyed buildings once were, and they're perfect for a single person or pair of lovebirds. In addition, you'll find that the electricity to these new houses, and all other homes and shops in the city is restored. The food is better, the monsters are gone- hey, this city might be livable again!

To cap it all off, we've got a feast waiting for you on the 19th! Come one, come all, and enjoy all of your favorite foods, drinks, and party games. It's been awhile since we've all gotten together to celebrate something good, so get your party on and toss all your troubles away!

► This log covers April 14th-April 19th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you get hit by levitating rubble or eat a food that wasn't meant for you, please let us know here.

Comments

[lemontree]

I was never on fire, but, then, you might have seen that if you hadn't been in such a hurry to litter our floors with broken glass.

[ This is all in good fun, right? Right. She takes a draw from her goblet, opting not to mention that she'd started at least two fires in her lifetime that might have counted as 'lighting herself on fire' were she any other person. ]

I suppose you left it that way without an offer of repairing the damage because you thought it might encourage the airing out of the place?

[nonscriptum]

[Nate inhales deeply, steeling himself for the reprimand he only sort of deserves. A guy tries to return a girl's medieval fantasy bondage equipment, and this is the thanks he gets?

When he gets a word in edgewise his tone softens, and he has the grace to look apologetic.]

Look, I'm sorry about your window. I'm actually surprised you didn't move after the fire. When I saw it happen, I was on the roof of the building next door - it was the easiest way in.

[lemontree]

We are planning to leave, actually. [ Margaery had only just approached her about it today, in fact. ] For a number of reasons.

[ The fire, and... for protection. Margaery had been murdered, after all. ]

One of which is that, apparently, grease leaves an awful smell. [ She works up a slow, deliberate smile. ] You should have warned me.

[ :') ]

[nonscriptum]

[...oh.

Oh, she's teasing him. For a moment there Nate honestly wasn't certain whether the tiny woman with the judgmental eyebrows was capable of making jokes, let alone at her own expense, but as it sinks in he can feel his hesitation ease into a tentative smile.]

Yeah, if there's a next time, I'll make sure to do that.

[His drink changes hands and he extends one, for a more proper introduction.]

Nathan Drake.

[lemontree]

[ You will never, ever get her to admit that she's made a joke at her own expense.

He extends a hand and she offers her own, not for a shake, but, she assumes, for him to plant a kiss on it. ]

Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. [ She's long since stopped using all her titles, but she isn't about to be so informal as to not include the basics. ] And there will be no next time.

[ Not in her case, anyway. ]

I've never had to prepare my own food before my arrival, so it's been - understandably, I think - difficult.

[nonscriptum]

Uh.

[She lifts an imperious chin and it accompanies an expectant look, as well as a mouthful of a title that has his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. Sounds like something out of a Tolkien novel.

The hand that does not so much shake his own as linger there with intent suggests he isn't supposed to do what normal Americans do. Nate flounders for a brief moment before delicately taking her fingers and leaning in to bestow a polite peck.

The name, the gesture, the attire...she's some kind of royalty, he assumes, wherever she's from. Nate releases her hand and straightens.]

I noticed. [Sympathetic, not mocking.] You ever think of asking someone to teach you?

[lemontree]

[ At the question, there seems to be a flicker of - maybe something like unease. ]

I did. I received a lesson or two. [ But they didn't continue, and she is too proud to pester Atem for continued aid. ] It hasn't been an issue before.

[ Except that her meals have been as simple as a child's, if that. ]

[nonscriptum]

[...yeah, she definitely didn't receive enough instruction. Nate isn't a professional but neither does he suck at putting meals together - he had to adapt on the fly with his brother, but it was doable.]

Do you want to learn?

[It's an honest question, with a distinct lack of patronizing edge.]

[lemontree]

[ It sounds like an offer of instruction. A vague, tipsy wariness drifts through her brain: she knows how men are, and has to wonder if this one is the same. ]

You want to teach me to cook? [ The skepticism is clear. She takes a slow sip of her drink, eying him as she considers it. ] At what price?

[nonscriptum]

Uh. None?

[Poor business model, maybe, but he never had the head for numbers. It should show on his face - quite visibly - that the suggestion alone is a.) not what he expected and b.) clearly not something he would consider doing.]

I just- thought it'd be nice, so you wouldn't have to risk setting your kitchen on fire again.

[lemontree]

None. [ She repeats, still dubious. ] Nothing is given so easily and without expectation of payment, whether now or in the future. And I am in no position to be in anyone's debt.

[ She has no power, no armies, no titles in this world. All she has are her memories and a goblet of wine.

Could it be that he just isn't much of a negotiator? Possibly. ]

[nonscriptum]

Wow. [He blinks, surprised by the pragmatism that suggests casual favors are not commonplace, wherever she's from.] Your world must suck.

[She isn't far off: Nate has never been the negotiator, leaving those terms to be parsed out between Sam and their clients, and then Sully and their clients. His interest in picking through businesslike minutiae is practically nonexistent, and these days the only "deals" he engages in are the ones that come with their cable package.]

I'm not looking for you to be indebted to me. I just wanted to help out.

[lemontree]

[ In response, Dany just looks at him, pleasant buzz fizzling out in favor of all this doubt and confusion. "Your world must suck?" She may not have phrased it like that, but... whatever the state of her world, she intends to fix it, as queen.

He doesn't need to know that. They're discussing cooking. So, Dany studies him another moment before sighing and crossing her arms. ]

All right. [ She won't question the charity anymore, but she will keep an eye on him. ] It's true that I would rather not set fire to my new home.

[ It was embarrassing enough when only Margaery knew about it... ]

[nonscriptum]

[She relents, which is good because he wasn't about to press her if she wasn't interested. The least he can do is teach her how to make scrambled eggs, or something.]

Okay then. [He takes a sip of his drink, lifting it briefly to her.] Let me know what time is good for you.

[lemontree]

Another time, of course. [ Not during the feast. ] I will...

[ It seems that she means to suggest contacting him, but she trails off. The device is still a frequent frustration, but she swallows and persists: ] ... Send you a message when I can meet.

[ Probably. Hopefully. ]

[nonscriptum]

Sure. No pressure.

[The last thing he wants is for her to feel obligated - or worse, intimidated - into accepting the offer. But her hesitation feels explicitly linked to the process of reaching out, rather than reaching out itself, and Nate wonders if communications in her world are as wildly different as her clothing.

He takes a stab in the dark.]

...You don't know how to use the phone, do you?

[lemontree]

[ Dany merely shakes her head, looking thoroughly unabashed about it. ]

Messages are carried on foot, or else, by ravens. [ The phones are maddening, but useful. She does wonder, of course, how very different their world would be with those devices in existence. ] I assume this would be very simple to someone who comes from a place where the phones are more commonplace.

[nonscriptum]

Ravens? Seriously?

[He doesn't want his excitement to be misunderstood; it actually sounds pretty cool, if hilariously inefficient. Guess there's a reason why people refer to distances in "as the crow flies" terms.]

And it's- look, we have phones where I'm from, and I'm still not great with them. They make changes to them a lot, so it's hard to keep up.

[Also, he just...really doesn't care to.]

[lemontree]

We'll have beaten you at that, then. Ravens haven't changed in years.

[ Is that a joke? Hard to say. She's had a few drinks. ]

[nonscriptum]

Okay, fair enough.

[Hands up, not entirely intent on defending the efficiency of phones over corvids, Nate huffs a laugh.]

Sent me whatever you can get your hands on, then.