January Intro Mingle!

[asgardmods]

Who: Newbies and anyone who wishes to greet them!
What: Getting used to the city
When: Days 383 and forward
Where: Anywhere in town!
Rating: PG-13 tops! If it gets worse, move to a private log please.

[Please include your location and the IC day (ex. Day 383 - this can be found in the schedule) in your top-level comment or your subject line when starting a thread! It can be any welcome hall, major attraction, or just out an about in any district. For newbies making a top-level thread, you may include your character's name/canon/house in your subject line if you'd like, to make housemates easy to find! :) If a God is needed or wanted, please ping the mods and depending on availability we might be able to throw them in where asked.

Also, keep an eye on the event schedule for January! If you're ICly introing during an event, make sure you take that into account. Thank you!

Have fun!]

Comments

[proudofwhatiam]

[Evy's not exactly one to pry, except no, she totally is if it seems like meddling is the Right Thing to Do. Especially when new travelers are being brought into the city--at times like that, it seems entirely necessary to inquire and offer to help.

So when she sees a gentleman who looks strangely ill to her, she gives him a second, concerned glance. There's something almost paranoid about his expression; from the way he looks around, he might well expect something to leap out and attack at any moment.

She reaches out to touch his shoulder, hoping to get his attention without startling him. Whether that's actually going to work remains to be seen.]

Excuse me, sir. Are you all right?

congratulations on the world's most appropriate icon keywords

[selfmadman]

[ At her touch Don stops. His posture goes slack; he feels a desperate energy drain from him. Still, his head turns with a jerk. He wears the unguarded expression of someone startled awake.

He looks one-two at her face then her bracelet. His hand closes around his wrist, twists the metal band there.

His arms fall to his sides. ]

I'm— [ Don breathes a sigh, rigs up a smile ] getting there. [ A pause dragging into awkwardness as he cycles through what he needs and what he can ask for. A drink. A shave. A meal. A coat. A shower. A drink.

Some missing days back. ]

I took a wrong turn somewhere. [ Somewhere in New York. ]

for you, the world

[proudofwhatiam]

[She draws her hand back the moment he whips his head around to regard her. Perhaps touching him wasn't such a good idea.

He looks...rather awful, let's not mince words. Shell-shocked. There's a wildness to his expression that sets her on her guard; if he's harmless at the moment, he might not be two minutes from now.

But despite her danger, Evelyn sense going off in her mind, she suspects she really ought to see if she can't assist him. He's not only a new face, he seems lost beyond the usual new traveler's confusion.]

Where were you trying to go? Perhaps I can direct you.

[selfmadman]

[ He nods. Trying to focus on her, shove the rest aside. Don sways into a stunted step sideways, raises his eyes to skid along signs lining the street.

There's a bar in Loki district. He slips in and out of the memory: a cloudburst in his head, alarm blossoming on a woman's face.

A door slams nearby and tension ratchets through him. A muscle jumps at his jaw. ]

I have to meet someone for a drink. [ He says it with too much force, recovers and spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. ] I can't remember the name of the place.

[proudofwhatiam]

For a drink.

[Her eyebrows raise, but she doesn't say anything more on the subject. Lord knows grown men can take care of themselves and their tendencies to imbibe, but he...doesn't look like he ought to be having a drink. Or perhaps he looks like he could use a stiff one. There's a fine line there, she knows that much perfectly well.

In any case, none of her business.]

Do you remember what it looked like? Or what it was near? Perhaps we can narrow it down that way.

[selfmadman]

[ Don makes an incredulous noise in the back of his throat. His eyes do a half-circuit of their sockets. ] You don't drink. [ Hard to say whether it's her or his luck he doesn't believe. ]

Older building. [ Cupping his stiffening hands together he raises them to his mouth, blows. He checks his watch: 11:37 PM in New York. ] Not far from a clothing store. [ A pause. His expression softens. ] You really don't have to do this.

[proudofwhatiam]

Not at this hour, no. [Okay, not much at all in general, but sometimes. There's no need to roll his eyes at her like she's never had a glass of wine in her life.]

[At his comment, Evy frowns. He's right in a technical sense, yes, but the idea of leaving him to wander the streets doesn't sit well with her.] I do a great many things I don't have to. [She glances down at his hands.] At the very least, we might find you some gloves.

SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY...due to completely misreading your tag, whoops

[selfmadman]

[ His gaze shifts as he takes that in—I do a great many things I don't have to. The city's buffeted him, sound and color glancing off him. This sticks.

The nod he gives is slight, almost formal. ] I appreciate it. [ A rueful smile as he rubs his hands together to dispel the cold, extends one to her. ] Don Draper.

[proudofwhatiam]

[She shakes his hand, brisk and formal.] Evelyn Carnahan. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Draper.

[All right, perhaps that's stretching it, but what else is she going to say?] Now, why don't we find you some protection against the elements?

[selfmadman]

[ His attention buckles in on itself; the name nearly gets by him before he remembers to remember. Automatically: ] Likewise.

[ One last look up and down the street, a thought to where she'd been headed. Nothing right now seems as impossible as routine. ] Please. [ Don raises his eyebrows, makes a lead-the-way gesture. ] My hands are in your hands.

[proudofwhatiam]

All right. [She jerks her head in the direction she was walking--there's a shop about a block up that's likely to have gloves, if she's remembering right.] Come with me.

[They probably ought to have a bit of conversation on the way, though, right? Right.] So which house are you, Mr. Draper?

[selfmadman]

That's unfair. [ His smile's shaky. He walks with his hands in his pockets, fighting the hunch that creeps into his shoulders. ] I'm too new to know whether that's a polite question.

[ He pauses too long. Slips in and out of eye contact. ] Hel. [ When he does say it his eyes are on her. Afterward he closes his mouth as if shutting a heavy door. A cord in his neck stands out. ]

[proudofwhatiam]

No one's complained yet. [Evy shrugs. It's a decent way to get an idea of someone, and of course, the bracelets give it away anyway.

...Of course, it's easy to feel that way when you aren't in the death house.] Mine's Odin. [She pauses, trying to decide whether now's the place to say something nice about Hel House or not.] I've met a few from your house who're quite nice.

[selfmadman]

[ Don sets his jaw against the laugh rattling around his chest. He'd sound like a run-down pickup. He swallows. ] What should 'Odin' tell me? [ He says the name as if humoring someone—her, the cosmos. It's familiar, but he won't allow it to mean anything to him. ]

[proudofwhatiam]

Cleverness.

[All right, that's not...that's not exactly modest. Try again.]

Or, rather, a love of knowledge. The library's in Odin's district, for instance.