entrancelogs | OPEN | the "Lost People" mingle!

OPEN | the "Lost People" mingle!

Who: Every lonely person with a story to tell! (Check out the OOC details if you haven't yet!) Oh, and Peter Pan (

boyhood), too.
Where: Mingles are out on the mansion grounds.
When: June 4th-6th, night.
Rating: PG-13? We'll see.
Summary: Peter is up to old tricks. Using his influence as the Pied Piper, Peter gathers together everyone in Wonderland he can for a celebration. Are you ready to make some new friends, sad sacks? This doubles as a convenient excuse to see how many vulnerable children there are.
The Story:

So you heard a little tune on the air and you've come to play! The more, the merrier. Night 1 isn't strictly an action event, but if you'd like to have your characters react, or just want to thread something out for that time, go for it. Night 2 and Night 3 are where the action's at. The prompts are general ideas of what's going on!

Anyone who isn't invited is going to find they can't figure out where everyone's disappeared to, exactly, and if they do go to a location, it's going to look like nothing's going on. Strange, huh? For those who are invited, he only rule is this: mingle to your hearts' content! Make new posts, tag into things, do what makes the most fun!

After each night, everyone will be free to disperse before the sun comes up. They'll wake up in their beds feeling refreshed, with the pleasant, surreal sense they've just had a sweet dream.

Except it wasn't really a dream, was it?

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[She'd come because she was called.

If she was any happier about it than he was, it didn't show. She'd glanced around when she first arrived, after the boy gave his speech, but she hadn't spotted many familiar faces, although it was dark, even with the bonfires. Then again, she wasn't sure what it said, that she searches for her teammates, here and now, and feels a small pang over the fact that she doesn't find them.

Maybe they're doing better with the whole 'team' thing than she is. Or maybe she's just more prone to being summoned when there's... whatever this is afoot.

She'd stopped looking, somewhere along the way. She'd found a mask of her own, simple and faceless, almost stark in the white blankness she can hide behind, as if it somehow knew it would be a relief from the other masks she so often wore. This one doesn't pretend to be anything.

Still, she suspects it wouldn't hide her well from someone familiar with her - it does nothing to hide her hair, which gleams in the warm glow of the bonfire, where she's found a seat to nurse a drink and catch her breath. Someone had whisked her into a dance around the fire a few moments before, fast and reckless and a challenge even for her and she had to admit she'd loved it. It's been a long time since she's felt so... free.

She'd almost forgotten what it felt like.]

[ When he pulls away from the dancing, he's winded but still more alive and wholly satisfied than he's been in a long time. After the speech, he'd tried to forget the absence of familiar faces. He should be glad they weren't here. Most of the time, he could be. Now, it's simply easier not to think about it and let the fire warm the weariness and the cold out of his bones.

He gets his own drink to nurse, and prowls for a place to relax for a while and watch the others. He sees her hair first, the light from the fire playing off it, catching in the copper of her curls. The mask she wears is blank, pushed aside while she lifts something amber-colored to her lips.

His own mask is in the way, but he'll pull it off in a moment. He walks towards her, stopping at her side. ]

What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?

[ He expects she'll roll her eyes at him, but they both know why they're here, and it's just as well making a joke, making it easier. ]

[ It's his voice that registers first, because maybe the mix of the fire and the drink and the dancing and whatever magic pulled them here is muffling her senses a little. Or maybe she's just relaxed enough not to care. What an odd concept.

Still, she recognizes the sound of him immediately and glances up with a smile already in place, sliding her mask back in place automatically to tease him a bit, the playful response already on the tip of her tongue.

It dies a quick death at the sight of him in that mask, but fortunately her own blank mask serves as her saving grace for the moment, hiding her abrupt reaction from view. All he'd see would be the faint widening of her eyes.

She's quick to recover, because while she might be relaxed, she'd not stupid. The hair's wrong, and the Winter Soldier had never worn that easy, charming expression in the most recent times she'd seen him. Possibly never. That was all Bucky.

So instead, she's quick to distract from her moment of shock with a lift of her glass and a laughing counter that she hopes is up to her usual standard of convincing witty banter. ]

Same thing as you, I suppose. It sounded like fun. Where else would I be?

[ Her mask slides back into place, and Bucky waits for the teasing retort. Natasha, he thinks, would be a great dance partner. They fall into step with each other so well.

It's a beat, and then another. He notices the way her eyes widen. He would look over his shoulder for danger if she wasn't staring directly back at him. The only remarkable thing on him is the mask, and he knows she recognized his voice before she saw that.

Any other time, it's something he would pursue, but here, the music mellows any thought of it. Maybe she was just surprised. It's not a friendly mask he wears. ]

I could think of a few places. [ He inclines his head, indicating the space beside her. ] You mind some company?

Edited 2014-07-17 00:23 (UTC)

[ There's no hesitation this time - she'd almost given too much away by that. She's not used to be caught so off-guard, but it had brought all too many memories sharply back to the surface without warning. It was unlike her.

She pushes that away for the moment, instead focusing on making sure he suspected nothing unusual, despite the way the sight of him in that mask still sent a shiver of unease through her. none of that was visible however as she slides over and pats the log beside her in invitation. ]

If I did, I doubt I'd be out here. Isn't that the point of tonight?

You seemed a little surprised. And up until a minute ago, I wasn't sure I wanted to see a familiar face around here, myself.

[ He settles down beside her, and after a moment he touches the side of his mask to take it off and sets it down across his knee. When he scrubs a hand over his face, he feels the rough drag of stubble along his jaw.

Natasha Romanoff, who drank him under the table when they first met, who laughs easily and teases everyone around her, who helped save New York and the rest of the world. He glances at her mask, stark white. It's less of a surprise to see her here than it should be. He gives her a wry smile. ] Not that I can really... see your face. You gonna keep that thing on? Because I hate to break it to you, but I already beat you in the creepy mask department.

I didn't realize there was a competition.

[ Her voice stays light and teasing as she tips the mask up once more to reveal perfectly composed humor, now that she'd settled her own nerves. She gives him a smile, warm and bemused as she watches him with an intent green gaze. ]

Better? And I think it's always a toss-up on what the others might be feeling at any particular moment. Although I wouldn't be surprised to find one or two of them lurking somewhere.

Always. [ He winks at her, but his gaze lingers, like it did on the mask, before he looks away. ] I've gotta agree with you there. Maybe they're just not that big on the flute.

[ He takes a swallow of his drink. ] You should come over when you're bored, you know. Watch a movie with us or something.

Edited 2014-07-28 22:30 (UTC)

[ A dimple peeks out briefly from the corner of her smile when he winks at her and she takes a sip of her own drink, not missing the way he watches her. Curious. She wonders what that's about? ]

Not sure I can blame them. Could be that they were just already asleep. Or feeling lazy. ...Or in Tony's case, didn't hear it in the secret lair.

[ His casual invitation has her glancing over at him, her head tilted just slightly to the side as if she's considering more than just his words. Which she probably is. ]

Should I? Is this an official invitation? I haven't wanted to intrude.

[ Bucky makes a face immediately. ] Like he can hear anything over that stuff he listens to.

[ It could have been any of those things, or maybe the others really are around here somewhere. Either way, she's the only one he's found. It's hard not to feel a little kinship, under the circumstances.

He chuckles at the question, but in a good-nurtured way. ] Intrude on what? Yeah, it's an invitation. You're a friend.

[ That has her laughing, his sudden unexpected look of distaste catching her off guard. ] Not a fan of 80's rock, huh? Guess you had to be there. There are worse eras, trust me.

[ She slides the mask off all the way, finally, setting it beside her and shaking her curls free, not minding being open and exposed when it was just him here for the moment. Sitting beside the fire offered a little bit of solitude amongst the revelry and she found herself relieved that he'd found her. ]

I don't know. On you and Steve's manly bonding time, or something. I imagine you've had quite a bit to catch up on. Or whatever else it is you two do in there that keep breaking doors and otherwise harmless furniture. I've been half afraid to ask.

[ Bucky makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat. There's worse, jeez, seriously?

He watches the movement as she drops the mask. There's something almost hypnotic about the way her hair catches light from the fire, the way it throws unsettled shadows across the plains of her face. He realizes he's staring a moment too late, when the silence stretches and he has to backtrack to remember what she said. ]

Yeah, uh -- Steve is old, he doesn't understand these fancy new doors with their locks. [ He rolls his eyes, his gaze going distant after a moment. ]

There's no part of me that doesn't appreciate getting to see him again... But he's still got a life left to live, you know? You both do. I'm just sayin' you could spend some of it helping me win the Astronauts vs Cavemen argument that happens every time we watch a version of Tarzan.

[ Well, in her opinion. Although now she wants to introduce him to ABBA just for the hell of it.

She catches him staring and she lets the smile curve across her lips, easy and bemused and full of knowledge. She can't really help it. It's odd to see his thoughts play so easily across his face and she can't say she minds it. Or the way he stares. She takes it as a compliment. ]

Technically, since we're all stuck here for an indefinite amount of time, we all have a life to live. [ She feels the need to point this out despite the fact that for him, she knows he's not entirely correct in that statement. Or, at the very least, he doesn't know enough to understand. not that she's going to enlighten him. Not even tonight. ]

... How many versions of Tarzan are there?? Wait, I don't think I want to know, actually. Why are you arguing about astronauts and cavemen, exactly?

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OPEN | the "Lost People" mingle!

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