MINGLE LOG: WEEK ONE

[asgardmods]

Who: Everyone!
What: The MINGLE LOG for Week One of the Asgard Eventide Reunion!
When: March 1-7
Where: Anywhere in town!
Rating: PG-13 tops! Anything higher than that should be taken to a private log, please.

[ OOC NOTES: Whether you're making a return to the city or this is your first time setting foot into Asgard, the gods and Natives alike sure are happy to see you. This is a catch-all mingle log for Week One! Please check HERE for a run-down on what's cookin' this week. You can feel free to make your own headers, create your own events, or post your own logs elsewhere as you please. Please put [OPEN/CLOSED] along with the time/location of your character in the title of your comment.

As a note: we were super fortunate to have a few of our old NPC handlers volunteer to pick up their old Gods for the reunion! We currently have Hel, Heimdall, Baldr, Thor, Freyr, Mimir, Honir, Asgard!Loki, and also Frigg available for threading. If you'd like to request an appearance from one of these kids, please say so in the title of your comment. Some of us may make our own top-level as well, so be on the lookout for that! A million thanks to our NPC team for being so fantastic, we love and appreciate you so much.

Don't forget to check out the IC Inbox Mingle and the Network Post Mingle in the network comm! Let us know if you have any questions! ]

Comments

im sorry King goes on and on about how ~blue~ Roland's eyes are in his books so I couldn't resist

[ka_sera_sera]

Those eyes he's just complimented - pale against a tanned, lined old face, pale and unimpressed - flick down Jack's body and up again, and Roland grunts. The thin line of his mouth pulls thinner as he hears it behind him - "Shame!" calls the woman, from the crowd, who's been following him since the moment that lantern'd come off his hand. He'd be impressed with her skills, keeping up with him, if it wasn't such a damned pain in the ass.

"I only need you for a couple minutes. Think you could stare somewhere more private?"

("Shame!" comes that nasal voice again, closer.)

"Quickly, before the crowd catches up with us?"

Hee! No worries! :3

[faceofbeau]

Well, it's not quite the reaction he expected, but he's more than a little amused by it regardless. The owner of those gorgeously blue eyes he'd complimented seems- running from something, or someone? It doesn't take much to figure out, after he hears a ringing voice calling out in the crowd, shouting 'shame,' of all things, what he might be running from. With a grin and an entertained tilt of his head, he answers,

"Sure thing, handsome, I'd be happy to. We can even run if you'd like." Accompanying the offer is his extended hand, if the stranger is so inclined. Maybe a little influenced by all the times he's run with the Doctor, with Rose, but then, Jack's never been one to shy away from physical contact.

[ka_sera_sera]

Neither has Roland so, though the gesture's a curious one, more suited to children running from their latest bit of mischief than to grown strangers, Roland only raises his eyebrows before threading the fingers of his right hand through Jack's. Or, rather, the fingers he's got. If Jack wants those first two, the index and middle, he's going to have to go back in Roland's world and find the monstrosity that bit them off. Two narrow fingers, a bony thumb, two stumps, and a great deal of calluses, Jack, that's what holding this hand gets you.

And then Roland sets off. "You know somewhere to go?" he asks, barely looking over his shoulder to ask it because moving at any speed through a crowd like this is a trick; there're people packed together, the stalls of goods, makeshift game tables, the occasional large barrel being carried across the street. Roland starts through it all slow, wanting to gauge the other man's speed, his reflexes, but it's not long before those are put to the test no matter what they are. One of those barrels, large enough to need two men carrying it longways, is right in Roland's path. He isn't slowing down. He picks up speed instead, still trying to feel how the other man's doing just from their shared grip. Once they get close Roland intends to drop, slide under it, and roll to his feet, all without letting go. How exactly that will go, he supposes he's about to find out.