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[baedalites]

Who: EVERYONE.
What: Swap meet.
Where: The Apache and surrounding environs.
When: Sukkardi the 14th of Haneden
Notes:

• Swap Meet Spreadsheet: Pre-chosen swaps are green. Assigned are blue. There were a few characters that were selected more than once, so objects were assigned on a first-come first-serve basis. If you have any issues or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact the mod team.
• For objects that might not be immediately apparent as belonging to their owners, there may be a picture or name attached, or players are welcome to have their characters ~just know~ it's for them. Drr drr drr, bb.
• Party post nights are a great time to come join the chatroom.
• The topic threads are just suggestions; if you've got somewhere else that your characters simply must be, make your own thread.

Warnings: None yet. Please put warnings up on individual threads.

The Apache is much the same as it always is: dimly lit, with the jukebox playing in the background, and the bartender serving whatever's on tap.

Comments

[gramarye]

"Ah -- that'd be why, then." He smiles, and it doesn't do much to make him look any less tired, but it's genuine. The item he glances at with great trepidation, because he doesn't want it, not really, but neither is he going to saddle some stranger with some crap meant for him, and...

He takes it after a pause, unwraps the paper, and frowns at it. Half of a necklace -- not his half. Recognition hits him all of a sudden, like a wall. He knows what this is.

"Do you see that?"

Uri is on the other side of the room, drawing on the walls, because Shani finds that absolutely delightful. (He always puts it back the way it was before her parents come home. She doesn't actually want to get in trouble for it. She's seven.) When she says it, he puts down the crayon and wanders over to the window she's standing by. "See what?"

"The car."

"That one?" He points to the silver SUV parked across the street and she lurches over, knocking his hand away.

"Don't!" she hisses, like it could hear them. He looks appropriately chastised, which lasts for about five seconds before he's back to his usual irreverence. He doesn't get the point and watching a parked car is boring. "It's been out there for two weeks," Shani says. "I think it's the police. I think they're watching someone."

He immediately snaps to attention, turning slowly to stare back at the car with renewed interest. He gets like this, sometimes -- suddenly intense, focusing so hard on one thing that it feels as if he's gone away even though he's standing right next to her. It scares her.

"I'll take care of it."

If she was scared before she's not now, because even she can tell how absurd that idea is. Shani actually has to laugh. "How? You're just a kid."

"I'll take care of it," he says again.

The next day, the car isn't there anymore.

...

"I got something for you!"

Uri takes Shani places sometimes, when she gets bored of being at home and wants to see something she's read about or seen on TV. Sometimes it's landmarks, sometimes foreign libraries. Today it's a mall in Canada that's supposed to be one of the biggest in the world. He ran off about ten minutes ago while she browsed the book store, invisible to all the adults here who would wonder about a pair of second graders without adult supervision.

He comes running to find her again after he disappeared, holding one of those plastic egg-like bubbles from a coin dispenser. When he cracks it open, something that jingles falls out, which he impatiently shoves in her hand.

It is actually two necklaces, cheap fake gold, two halves of a heart with writing on the front. "What's it say?" she asks. They just started learning English in school. She can guess because she's seen stuff like it before and it's not hard to come to certain conclusions, but she wants to know the exact words.

"It says 'best friends.' See?" He points to one of them, the half that says Be Fri. "This half is for you and the other is for me."

Her face lights up. It's what she had thought it was, but -- she'd never thought she'd have a friend who would want to do stuff like this with her. No one else at her school likes her. "Ah, that's so cool!" She puts her half on immediately and something in his face changes, relaxes, like he was afraid she'd think it was dumb or something.

He takes her hands in his and his expression shifts again -- the ghost of that intensity she remembers from last month. This time, she's not scared. "Promise you'll wear it every day, okay?" he says, more serious than she's ever known him to be.

"Yeah, I promise."

He has to turn his head and take a minute to compose himself. It's not the sentimentality of the object that gets him, not really -- it bothers him that he didn't remember her until now, but the guilt he feels over having abandoned his friend, well, that's his own burden to bear. It's that if this is here, it means that she's in danger.

And he's stuck here. He can't help her.

When he thinks he has himself under control, he exhales slowly, raises his head and offers a slightly wobbly smile. "This place really likes to punch us in the gut."

[apotropaic]

Philomena watches quietly and wide-eyed as his expression changes. She already had some idea about the purpose of the little necklace. Sure, it was a different kind of magic from her own, but certain things really are universal, and that immediate sense of protection was one of them. For a second she's very, very still, wondering what consolation she can give to someone she's just met, in an entirely fucked up situation like this one.

Then her hand shoots back to the drink she'd deposited a moment ago, bringing it to her lips, and downing the quarter that's left before gesturing with the empty glass.

"Come on," she says, with a little head tilt in the direction of the bar itself. "It's the least I can do."

She makes it sound like a request --it isn't, not really. There's no way she's going to skip off after hitting someone with a pile of bricks, unintentional or not, and if he even tries to object, she's just going to look at him. Tiny and bossy; everyone better get used to it.

[gramarye]

"Oh, I --" He is about to protest automatically just... because that's what he does, but fortunately he is also extremely easy to boss around and deflates with a single look. That's kind of great, considering how enormous he is. "Um, okay."

He could use a stiff drink, anyway. This city, seriously.

He'll follow her meekly to the bar then, the necklace clutched too tightly in his hand until he can bring himself to put it in his pocket. (What if he loses it -- but he supposes it doesn't matter, it's not like it's useful to her while it's here.)

[apotropaic]

It is wise to give into her demands, Wolfgang.

Speaking of which, two dudes automatically vacate a couple of bar stools (interesting that, but she does what she likes, and really it was more of a firm suggestion than any real sort of magic). Philomena neatly hoists herself up on one of them. Wolfgang can stand, if he likes, but either way the space next to her is now cleared and that's what's important.

And as a total non sequitur, "Your accent is kind of throwing me off. Whereabouts are you from?" It's a friendly, harmless sort of nosiness, the kind of thing people ask when they are trying to socialise. She also waves a hand to get the bar staff's attention.

[gramarye]

"Tel Aviv. Israel." His smile verges on apologetic, as if he expects to hear something like Where? or That exists? Baedal as a whole he thinks is pretty Earth-centric -- one mostly finds people from elsewhere in Chnum -- but the people here are from a wide variety of timelines and alternate universes. It only bothers him a little.

After a moment, he sits, because standing feels weird.

Apparently having decided fuck it with regards to sticking to beer, he gets something hard, the name of which he can never quite pronounce. It's green and he's pretty sure it's from space or something.

[apotropaic]

It's something that Philomena has started to notice herself, especially since at least two of the people she's interacted with in their cohort have been from some version of the States. It's a strange coincidence for a vast universe.

Wolfgang, then, makes a slight but pleasant change. She frowns in faux-concentration, then suddenly snaps her fingers. "Middle East, on planet Earth? Yeah, I've heard of it."

Girl, you're not fooling anyone with that accent. Which she knows, and drops the act with, "...yeah, I'm from California, which is only interesting to people who want to go to L.A. or get the location of Disneyland mixed up."

While this goes on, she orders something bright blue that comes with a paper umbrella in it. Neat.