hadriel_logs | Event Log: Is It a Wonderful Life?

Entry tags:

Event Log: Is It a Wonderful Life?

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for Is It A Wonderful Life? event
Where: All over the city
When: Jan 4th-8th
Warnings: None

Throughout the next few days, you may find yourself plagued by visions and dreams of back home. The dreams will be lifelike and difficult to tell apart from reality, as the world will be constructed from what you remember of your world. However, unlike usual dreams, you won't be present, and will find yourself unable to be seen or heard by those around you.

The dreams are vivid reminders of what might happen in a world without you: a world in which you disappeared when coming to Hadriel, a world which desperately needs you back for some reason or another. You may see your parents putting up missing posters, your significant other moving onto their next relationship, or even your hated villain finally taking over the world without you there to stop them.

When the vision leaves, you're back here and nothing about the city has changed. Though maybe you have a different outlook on it now...

► This log covers January 4th-Januray 8th.
► 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 try a weird solution to make it back home, please let us know here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"A dear lady in need of a refreshing drink," Sanji answers, not the least bothered by her curt tone. He offers her the hot coffee mug with its handle facing her as always, but though he smiles sweetly, the cheer doesn't reach his tired eyes. "How are you holding up, Miss Caedra?"

It's hard to stay all that aggressive toward Sanji when she smells the coffee. Nice to know that even during all of whatever is going on, he's present enough to know exactly when and how he's needed. She frowns up at him anyway, but the look has lost much of its bite, and she takes the mug and curls her fingers around it as if it's some sort of priceless treasure. He must have collected plenty of that coffee when it came through the Door and unlike her, the gods hadn't made him squander it.

"As well as I can, despite our captors intending otherwise," she grumbles. "I wish I could do to them what they think is so fun to do to us."

"That would make you the same as them, wouldn't it?" Sanji shakes his head as he straightens out. "I'd much rather worship and nurture your stunning beauty this way."

It really wouldn't make them the same, she could argue, but it's not much fun to talk about. Not when Sanji always has such fine alternatives to propose. He's right - worshiping her is far more important and beneficial and worthwhile than complaining about the idiots who kidnapped them all and can't figure out how to put them back. But he can do that while she remains angry at them.

"They don't seem to care much for that, but I'm glad I can claim more worshipers than they can. How much of this do you have left in your supplies?" she asks, lifting the cup of coffee.

His carefully cultivated smile falters, and he sighs. Lavishing praise on a lovely lady is a wonderful way to pretend everything is fine, nothing is wrong, and the universe will properly realign itself once they get the hell back to where they belong. Having to admit to his dwindling supplies, however, is not. He already knows exactly how many mugs-worth of coffee he has left. Reluctantly, he calculates how long that will last if he doesn't drink any of them.

"It'll last ten more days, so long as we limit ourselves to one piping hot pick-up per day. It's a sad fact of life, but a chef can only work with what ingredients he's given."

"We?" She raises an eyebrow. "How many is it being shared with?"

Because the obvious solution is to reduce that number. And she may not even have to take much action of her own to ensure that. Sanji, being the good servant he is, ought to know exactly who is inessential and cut off their supply so that she can have more of a share. Keeping her content is important to their health and safety after all, isn't it?

"Your illustrious taste buds, Law's, and mine." And anyone who looks like they're about to pass out when they walk into his place. He doesn't mention that. He usually gives them his portion anyway. "Of course, I wouldn't take a single sip at your expense! If it comes down to it, your splendid cook will find a substitute for himself!"

"I see," she says with a slight pause as she considers the value of each of those people on his short list receiving something she wants for herself. Sanji himself is the least important of the three, but Law probably doesn't know exactly how much coffee is left, so would he really miss a day or two? When they run out, they run out and then she's back to having to flavor things with cantrips to make it seem passably like the drink she wishes she had.

"Find a way to stretch my share to two full weeks," she decides. Kind of her, isn't it, instead of demanding it all? Now that's what she considers thoughtful, helpful compromise.

"Even if my heart stops and my limbs rot, I will make sure that you have two full weeks of freshly brewed heaven!"

It's a promise he raises without hesitation, let alone complaint. If all he can do here is make sure one damn person in the entire shitty universe is happy, then that's exactly what he'll do. What good are his heart or limbs anyway, if he can't use them to protect his crew?

He pulls away, arms stretched behind his back, not sure what to do with his hands now they're empty. He should be doing something. Why isn't he?

"Today's snack will be beignets. I can prepare yours early if you'd like. A humble apology for my inept scavenging!"

Ah, Sanji, always the perfect human. Why can't they all be like this? So willing to serve and eager to please. While she finds their individuality amusing and occasionally useful, they make fine tools when they're so readily bent to her desires.

She smiles as she has another sip, then tilts her head slightly, curious. "Beignets? What are those?"

"Fried dough pastries," he supplies with what could almost be called a smile. "If Law cries, take pictures for me. But I found some powdered sugar in one of the stores this morning, and I'm damn well going to use it."

It's a joke. Law's getting sushi rolls. He hopes Caedra tells him about the beignets anyway. Somebody besides him deserves to be the one who panics every once in a while.

"Hm. Don't make mine sweet," she says, smile fading to something more stern. "I don't care for sweet."

Which she's probably told him before, but it can hardly be his fault if he's forgotten. He's only mortal, and their minds aren't perfect, and he has so many people he seems to look after.

She might have to correct that some day. He'd be better off spending more time catering to her wishes only. But for now she'll let him do as he wishes, since a content servant is one who serves more willingly. She doesn't care to be soft with hers at home, but the threat of death is meaningless here.

"Naturally! It would be a crime to stifle a lady as bold as you with gentle sweets. I know just how to flavor yours for a proper kick."

Though he immediately moves to smooth things over, Sanji mentally berates himself for not having taken Caedra's taste into account. To have forgotten even for a moment isn't just an enormous blunder; it's fucking treason. He's a goddamn cook, for shit's sake, this is his only job.

It's amazing what one can overlook when faced with a vision of his dying captain.

Still, that's no excuse, and the moment he allows it to be is the moment he loses. He won't lose. Caedra's beignets will be delectably savory, a perfect follow up to her coffee, and Sanji will get some fucking sleep if he has to give himself a concussion to do it. That's all he needs, right? Just some sleep.

That's all.

"That's better," she acknowledges with a nod, though she's still not smiling. Let him really feel his error, let him know that she doesn't appreciate it. He'll remember next time.

At least it's something she has some form of control over, unlike these awful visions - the worst part of which being that they seem to strike out of nowhere. It makes her want to limit her interactions with others, to keep them from being able to take advantage in any way when she locks up. Sanji, though, was one of the ones who guarded her when she was frozen and she will remember that. His devotion, that memory that came through the ice - they haven't spoken about it, but she hasn't forgotten. With a huffed sigh, she relaxes a little and sips at her coffee.

"You're a talented cook, Sanji. I appreciate that. I wish any of the servants at home were half as attentive as you," she admits. "It would make life so much more pleasant."

Any other day, praise like that straight from Caedra's mouth might have broken the over-reactive cook. The atmosphere is too stifling and Sanji too distracted for that today. Still, he offers a spastic grin that not even overwhelming guilt and melancholy can suppress. Miss Caedra is actually complimenting him, even after his failure! If he died now, he wouldn't be content, but he'd certainly die happy.

"Then I'll just have to pamper you every day until I can send you home with proper instructions for your staff!"

"Yes. Do that," she says plainly, somehow turning his offer into an order from her.

If she even still has 'staff' on return. Everyone who goes home and comes back speaks about how they returned at the moment they were taken from, as if their worlds were on hold during their absence. But none of them understand the infinite possibilities the universe holds - things they theorize about but that she is certain are truth. A version of her will go back and nothing will have changed, but there is a version of her somewhere in that chaos who is gone, and for whom life moves on without her.

Well, sucks to be that Caedra. She's determined to be the one who gets to go home without the others having moved on without her.

"It's a shame we don't have access to the kinds of things we get at home. Have you ever cooked dragon?" she asks.

The perverted pirate who loves to be ordered around by beautiful women, and the cunning demoness who loves to order around clueless men. It's a match made somewhere very special, that's for sure.

Sanji's tense, tight shoulders droop at her unexpected question. He shakes his head, fondly(?) thinking back to the frantic chaos they had caused in Caesar Clown's research institute. "We ran into one on Punk Hazard, around when we reunited with Law. There was so much going on that I never did get to cook it up though." He sighs. What a waste.

Thinking about his crew running around energetic as always just reminds him of their lifeless bodies in his visions, however, and he clamps his eyes shut until the pressure has him seeing fireworks. The bright lights scatter his unwelcome visions. At least for a while.

"You didn't miss your chance, I take it. How does it taste?"

"Oh, we have lots of chances, the things are a nuisance. Delicious, though, especially the young fatty ones," she replies with a smirk. "Better raw than cooked, though. And the flavors vary by color. Black dragons, those are nice. Have an acidic, sort of lemony tang to them naturally. Golds are good, too. Rich. They make good steaks."

Ahh, but it's easy to fantasize about such exotic foods after so long without. Dragons are particularly good, too, as powerful magical creatures with souls even more valuable than that of the most powerful noble humanoids. And they make for very impressive roasts when cooked whole - a technique only the most impressive chefs ever attempt, given the challenge inherent in their size.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Event Log: Is It a Wonderful Life?

jan 5;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject