Light 'em up

[starcharter]

Characters: EVERYBODY
Date: sundown on November 29th to sunrise on November 30th
Location: A plaza in Earth
Situation: The population of Keeliai could use a little warmth. So Chekov set stuff on fire and invited everyone over.
Warnings/Rating: None, but please put something in your comment header if necessary.

On Wednesday, everyone received the following audio message (and text attachments in English and Russian) from (1) Pavel Chekov in their inboxes:

“Hello. I would like to invite you to a bonfire in Earth sector on Friday at sundown. Please feel free to bring friends.”


A plaza in Earth sector is buzzing with activity-- most of it from one young man. He spends the day lugging folding tables and pushing wheelbarrows of supplies into the plaza. As the day wears on, several entrepreneurial kedan set up stands. By sundown, the plaza is lit up with three large, roaring bonfires. Most of the ice and snow has melted away, leaving a few patches here and there in the furthest corners of the plaza. One patch a bit away from the fires is completely devoid of snow and ice-- it's a sort of dance floor or performance area. Some music is playing out of one of the upper windows of the buildings overlooking the plaza. It's varies from quick and frenzied to slow and soothing. Of course, anyone is welcome to claim the floor to perform a magic show or do a little singing of their own.

There's a hodgepodge of various folding tables set with the essentials: raw vegetables, the closest equivalent of marshmallows Chekov could find (next to the chocolate and graham cracker substitutes), and sausages. There are skewers and tongs lying around should anyone need them. He also brought a few jugs of water, which are refilled periodically. It's not much, but it's the best he could do with a limited budget and not a lot of time. The kedan have taken the opportunity to sell what Chekov couldn't bring-- hot beverages and food, blankets, scarves and gloves, and several other simple wares.

It's not a grand setup, but there are roaring bonfires, food, and good company.


(Posting this slightly early because of Thanksgiving chaos. Let me know if you have any questions)

Comments

[modernized]

He breathes out a quick laugh at that - of course Damian caught his message over the console - and cracks a smile. Terry doesn't mind. He knew what he was getting into and he's been in more embarrassing situations that his pride can be swallowed when needed.

"Yeah, bunch of people offered up some spares. Real friendly of them."

The tone of Damian's words is curious, but right now he's thankful the kid isn't looking at him the same way he did the first night they met. He's half-tempted to ask how Damian's been, but he's certain he wouldn't get a straight answer. Bat-people can make an Olympic sport out of sidestepping questions.

[demon_brat]

">Tt.< "

Damian spreads his arms slightly. Mostly to indicate that his spares would obviously not fit. At all.

As to how he is, well. There is an unsolved case, an top of everything being Complicated in what passes for his personal life.

"That is a change. From Gotham."

Damian Wayne: not good at all at small talk.

[modernized]

It's the thought that counts.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Wouldn't even bother pulling the stunt I did there - it'd probably go viral with what a pathetic dreg I am."

Self-depreciation is always a good way to get others talking he finds. Even if it's clear Damian is short spoken, he still wants to get to know the kid. If he could keep up a conversation with the elderly human wall that is Bruce Wayne, he thinks he can manage this too.

[demon_brat]

It's not so much that Damian is short-spoken as there are layers and layers of conversation between them... and he's already emotionally battered down. (Don't ask, preteen drama is often too much for even Batman.)

"You were not the first who needed to make such a request, and I rather doubt you will be the last." Beat. "Though many of the females prefer to say they showed up in their pajamas. Probably not without reason. Of course, when Zatara managed to age people up and down, there was less of a chance to use that excuse."

... and his mind is back to Midii. Of course. He barely resists snorting at himself in disgust.

[modernized]

A light snort.

"She did that huh? Impressive. And annoying. Though not surprising for one of the world's greatest magicians."

From what he read up on her file it doesn't seem too far a stretch that she could change peoples ages. He eyes the strange food in his hand carefully, giving it a short toss in the air before catching it and carefully eyes Damian. ...Yeah something is definitely up with the kid tonight, though really he isn't sure what. The problem with not having intel - nothing to fall back on. What a slag.

"You doing alright?" He cautions a ask, thinking the worst he could get is an angry look. More than use to getting glared at really, what with the company he keeps.

[demon_brat]

Damian's face hardens, the anger pretty obvious.

"So, carelessness, negligence, and getting at least two, possibly more people killed through underpreparedness and ignorance is not surprising from the world's greatest magician? You ought to have higher standards, McGinnis."

Sorry, Terry, you got him angry. He lets things slip, then.

He swivels his head back, looking straight ahead.

"It is of no importance."

[modernized]

Woah. Ok, that sure was an abrupt change of pace. And here he thought he was safe with stating facts. Looks like someone wasn't happy about whatever Zatanna did.

"Ok, ok, sorry, my bad," he quickly tries to smooth over the anger, raising his hand a little in defense. Yikes this kid was a tough nut. Were all the Robins like this before they left the nest? He doesn't think so and he hopes not either.

He lets his hand drop when Damian goes back to looking at the fire and shrugs, the sudden outburst making things more awkward than before. If that was even possible.

"Well, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. If it makes you feel better, or something."

[demon_brat]

">Tt.< She used a kedan spell, with no precautions and lack of complete understanding. There were ages changed, bodies changed, and powers changed. Jor-El and Kal-El were without their powers, and people were killed with those of one of them. She could have avoided that if she had only waited for the translation of the entire work, before attempting to do anything from it."

Sorry, Terry. Zatanna is currently on Damian's would-kill-if-not-for-promise list, and he's not likely to be either lax or complimentary towards her.

"Most of that information was communicated over the network, including her apology." Without missing a beat, "and I have people I can talk to, although what is happening at this time is private."

Pause, and a little softer, if still stiff - Terry is a stranger, after all.

"I appreciate the offer."

[modernized]

So it wasn't her magic, just something borrowed. The name Jor-El doesn't ring bells, but he knows well who Kal-El is to get the idea. If someone died while using his power...he can definitely get where Damian is coming from, even if the reaction is almost mercilessly sharp to name alone. But his lips twitch a little into a small smile when the kid seems to warm up a little. Okay, a very small little. About as much as a Wayne possibly can warm up at the very least. The kid is definitely his father's son.

"No problem, I understand."

And, without thinking in the moment, he takes the piece of fruit in his hand and bites into it -- immediate regret. This was definitely a food of beauty, less of taste. He swallows down the piece in his mouth with only a second chew and grimaces.

"Ugh, why did I do that," he mutters to himself, shooting the fruit a disgusted look. "I'm going to wash that out of my mouth now. You go back to doing your thing."

He'll offer a wave and walk off there, trying not to shudder as the taste in his mouth.

[demon_brat]

Damian startles at the reaction, and, when Terry bounds off, he's right there beside him, pointing him in the direction of available water. He knows the place well, all right?

Only then does he get a good look on the fruit (it might be something ill-suited for humans, right?) and >Tt.< - s.

"That one is very well-tasting - broiled, or fried. But I would recommend you stay away from the sea prunes. A small number of foreigners enjoy their taste, but... they are rare."

[modernized]

He stops in mid-step when Damian is suddenly coming up his side, not having enough time to process the direction when Damian suddenly chimes in on the fruit.

"I'm not a prune guy to begin with," he says with a small shrug and a lopsided smile. At least he thinks he's making progress after a bad first impression. Or whatever you call it - he's sure it wasn't the best. "Thanks for the tip, I'll try it out later."

[demon_brat]

Damian catches the surprised look, and arches an eyebrow at him, responding to both the look and the words.

"Most foods sold here are harmless to foreigners. But it would not do for me to miss if you had managed to stumble onto one of the few exceptions."

All things considered.

He gives a small nod.

"There is at least one establishment run by a 'foreigner' - and, aside from that, one--" of us "-- Gothamite is working at a restaurant. I can give directions to both, if you want some more directed experimentation?"

[modernized]

"And here I thought you were being friendly," he says with an amused tone. Was Damian trying to be friendly? He probably won't ever know.

"Thanks, but I'm good. Exploration is part of the fun of being forced to be here I think. Wouldn't do me good to have everything laid out for me I think."

[demon_brat]

">Tt.< "

That was Damian being friendly, as a matter of fact. Making sure people didn't die.

"Of course. Suit yourself."