multiversallogs | new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind

Buffy isn't exactly what you consider domestic. She can cook, sure, and on occasion even bake, but she's not very good at it. But she does know what a potluck means, and she will do her best to not make something that's inedible. Besides, she's never managed to have time to actually prepare for a potluck. It could be fun.

Several charred attempts later, she decides that phoning it in might be best for all involved.

She manages to track down some sweet cakes, and other kinds of deserts, as well as bringing some drinks -- non-alcoholic. Alcohol doesn't really do much for her, and she figures that it might be helpful.

She makes her way into the Guild Hall, glancing around and looking for people, with drinks in one hand and a tray in the other. This is all about the social -- and she definitely wants to be a part of that.

The date has significance to Sebastian, but he doesn't expect anyone else to see this as anything other than an informal meal; a simple coming together of people to enjoy each other's company.

"Thanks for coming," he says, addressing Buffy and gesturing to the table where he's put his own tray. "D'you need any help carrying anything?"

She shakes her head. "Nope. I'm good." She places the tray down on the table, and then the drinks next to it, before turning to him with a smile, extending a hand.

"I'm Buffy." Introductions? Always a good place to start.

Provided she's not put off by his missing fingertips, he'll accept her hand and shake.

"LeMat," he says with a small smile. It's been quite some time since he was social enough to organize a gathering of any sort.

For a quick minute, half of Maggie didn't want to go. Work is work and she wasn't there to make friends. She'd say hi to these people if they spoke to her (and only when they did; she remembers the rules from home) but she wasn't going to seek them out. The other half, the emotional half, told her she was being an idiot and she didn't have to take them back to her place for dinner. She just had to show up at this dinner and she didn't have to cook anymore than she wanted to. Plus there might be leftovers nobody wanted and that'll save herself some money if she took those home.

She opts to bring a large container of lamb and chickpea stew and an apple-cranberry tart because if the guild cook comes in with something simple and easy like chips and dip or God forbid, soda, eyes will be watching. Maggie isn't usually interested in making an impression, but this is work, regardless of the party label attached to it.

Walking into the hall, she quickly finds a table to lay her dishes down and makes a beeline to a corner of the room to look as awkward as can be. She's still the new kid around here and it's obvious Maggie doesn't know what being social means.

Injuries are not foreign to Buffy. In fact, injuries are probably comforting -- it reminds you that the job is very real, and could very much kill you. Scars remind you to be careful. She can only imagine that missing fingers do the same.

"Nice to meet you," she says with a nod, before looking around the hall. "Does Hellsing make with the social often, or is this more of a special occasion?"

Between his limp and other injuries, she is bound to find Sebastian rather comforting. Velcro, his dog, seems pleased enough with how the evening is turning out but that's likely because he's not wearing his service animal vest and has the night 'off', so to speak.

"I haven't been here that long, but it's the start of fall and, and I thought it would be a nice idea." There's more to it, but Sebastian isn't about to get into his personal beliefs with a stranger.

Getting organized to get out the house of an evening is more complicated when you're dealing with a child, even just the one child, and throwing Conan (the Corbarian, and Sol anticipates hearing this joke approximately a thousand more times before Liesl gets tired of pointing it out to him) into the mix as well after his fruitless efforts to argue that maybe it would be better if the sporgi stayed home...well, that's life. He thinks briefly most people's daughters don't fall in love with dogs that have six legs and eight eyes, but on the other hand, most people's daughters probably don't have the opportunity, and he's willing to bet Dotty's kids would love Conan.

Richard's going to pay for the corgi agenda, one of these days. In the meanwhile, it's Sol who gets to hold the little monster's leash - in the same hand as he holds onto Liesl, with a large tupperware container of fresh garden salad (mostly out of their garden) under the other arm.

He looks slightly less harried than that sounds.

Unfortunately for Maggie, lurking in corners is exactly what Mabel has been up to since her rather unfortunate stint in 'could be possession, yeah let's go with that' land. Autumn had given Mabel an excuse to bundle up in a protective layer of long sleeves and thick clothes, but it didn't help her feel any less exposed. Her contribution: a store-bought platter of veggies.

Drifting on the edges of the crowd, Mabel smiles in an awkward, twisted way at Maggie, looking for unspoken clues to indicate she needed to give the girl some space.

Corners are nice places to be in. You can watch everybody else from a safe distance without having to get involved in things and really, nobody looks at the corners too much. It all works out.

Except now. Maggie feels Mabel's eyes on her and it's a little strange since she never expected to be noticed. But the girl looks like her in a place where everybody else looks as different as they can. That deserves an awkward smile and nod in return.

Well, it's not a hearty 'how you doing' but she'll take what she can get. Mabel's pretty sure she's not going to get a cold shoulder or funny looks from anyon (possession being part of the job hazards), but it doesn't make her eager to seek out old friends nonetheless.

"No offense, but you look - " Like you're about to start climbing the wall. " - Pretty uncomfortable there. This ain't your thing, huh?"

"Not really," Maggie mumbles before she remembers to take her fingers from between her lips and speak up. "I just started here." So I don't know anybody are the unsaid words that hang in the air.

Is this what people do at potlucks? Tell complete strangers they look uncomfortable? The longer Maggie spends in Baedal, the more she realizes how sheltered she's been. It would surprise people that she's not the stereotypical rude New Yorker all the time, but when you have an overbearing mother who keeps you home when you're not working, shit like this is what you end up with. Potlucks and other social events just don't fit into that equation.

"You?"

Mabel is just kind of blunt like that. A confrontational edge had shaped her upbringing, when it came to fighting bullies at school or getting the job done.

"I've been here for awhile, I've had time to get used to... uh, the stranger aspects of it." As if she wasn't one of those strange things.

"Vampires?" Maggie's tone is one that says she hopes that vampire is just it. Okay, well, there's Hellboy and Nuala who clearly aren't vampires, but Maggie would like to keep the number of strange things that don't exist in her world to a low number. Preferably one in the single digits.

That's probably best. Religion, politics, never get into them with strangers. Only leads to trouble. Though Buffy would probably be very interested in hearing them, if he ever decides he wants to talk about them.

"It is. A nice idea, I mean. I'm pretty new too, and it's a good way to get to know people."

There are a few people in Baedal that know he's apostate and Sebastian believes that it's probably best that way. While all sorts of faiths and variations on polytheism are welcomed, he's neither comfortable nor feels it's appropriate to declare his views for others to comment upon. Of course, Princess Nuala is an exception.

"So, what do you do for Hellsing?"

"Anybody who can take the idea of vampires that calmly will probably fit in here just fine." She's trying to be assuring. It's hard when you can't tell what the line is between normal people and those who decide to join Hellsing. "Technically I'm in the ghost department myself."

"Ghost department?" Ghosts are one thing Maggie's oddly comfortable with. Blame it on her particular choice in religion, but ghosts don't scare her as much as demons and vampires do. "You do what with them?"

Any attempt Brie made at cooking real, edible food for humans had ended in total failure. She had never learned how to cook before she was turned, her parents had coddled her too much. And after she became a vampire, well, she didn't really need the cooking skills.

Now that she was mortal again and needed normal nourishment, she had been largely depending on Jones. But she wanted to meet new people and to perhaps find a partner, so she had to come to this dinner. Had to. But after starting three fires in their kitchen, Brie decided that perhaps it would be better to get something store bought.

So there it was. Fruit salad and chocolate cake.

Walking into the guild hall, she looked around for the potluck table.

"Hullo, do you need any help with that?" Sebastian is miserable when it comes to small talk and isn't a particularly good host, but he is polite. The potluck table isn't far, but when you're navigating whatever other chairs and tables are in the room a little extra assistance can't hurt.

"Oh!" she squeaked at Sebastian. "Yes, that would be extremely helpful."

"Um, would you like to carry....fruit salad? Or chocolate cake?" The whole gesture looked kind of silly.

"I'll take the bowl, if you don't mind?" The fruit salad looks more forgiving and easier for him to hold onto and so, if she doesn't object, that's what he'll take. Should Brie worry, despite missing part of the fingers on his right hand, his grasp hasn't been overly compromised.

"I'm LeMat." He doesn't offer to shake, but she might recognize his name from others at Hellsing mentioning him as the handyman.

"Of course not," Brie said, handing over the bowl and thankful that she now could use both hands to hold on to the cake.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Brie." After a quick pause, she added "I'm new."

"I think we all are. Within a few months, at least." The potluck table isn't far and Sebastian's dog, Velcro, stays nearby but out from underfoot. Only under exceptional circumstances can one find them separated. "Thanks for coming out."

"Thank you for organizing this."

She was eyeing Velcro now, resisting the impulsive desire to pet him without asking. "To be very honest, I haven't met very many people since I've arrived in the city at all -- and well, this seemed like a wonderful opportunity."

And then she just couldn't resist anymore and had to ask, "Could I -- pet your dog?"

new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind

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