Alonso has been doing this very strange dance where he's hiding the fact that he's waging a personal war against an army of militant hobs bent on the pillage of all that surrounds them from Gisa. And also the need to work in her shop and be her boyfriend. See, it's tricky. It means he hasn't been getting much sleep. Now, it's not TOO unusual for Alonso to be super sluggish during daylight hours. He's habitually nocturnal, being a Darkling. But it's been quite a bit moreso than lately. And he's showing up bruised here and there, or short on glamour and just grumpy. He's been a boor, in other words. Now, at least, he's curled up on the couch under a blanket, hugging a stuffed bear that's dressed like an orthodox rabbi, and is broodily staring at his kindle, which he is flipping through rather speedily.
She doesn't ask. Sometimes, revolutionaries just have to be humored. Alonso's been a boor, yes, but in any relationship there's a 'for worse' to go with the 'for better, even if you didn't vow to it. Gisa has made a giant pot of vegetable biryani, and a giant pot of chicken biryani, and has brought both downstairs and set them on the table, as if she's expecting company. The sight of Alonso curled up like a child with the Rabbear makes her smile, just a little, and she comes over to lean down and kiss his forehead. "I met a friend of yours today, einayim sheli," she informs him. "She may be coming by for dinner." Well, that's a new endearment. Maybe he knows what it means with all his study.
"Apparently someone on the internet thinks I moved away from Boston because I was scared of them," Iris is already saying as she opens the door and makes her way in, without having to checked who might happen to be in the room, or even if anyone at all is there, before she starts talking. Quite possibly she's perfectly content with it even if she's her own only audience. "As if their death threat in particular was more frightening than the other eight hundred and twenty three I have saved in my inbox." How do dragons deal with death threats? By thinking its hilarious, evidently, if her mirth is any indication. She stops talking long enough to notice who is present, then to sniff the air and say, "something smells good! And good evening, comrades." She kicks her sandals off as she's heading toward the table, leaving them strewn in the middle of the room on the floor.
For the exceedingly introverted, sometimes showing up at a new place to meet new people can be a little anxiety inducing. Pilar is having to do it twice in one day, but when you're trying to meet people in a new town and learn your way around there's just no avoiding it, unless you want to spend all of your time alone, holed up somewhere making things. That might sound pretty good to Pilar, but she's trying to be better about that kind of thing. All of which is a long winded way to say that she arrives, but since she's not sure about protocol she actually knocks on the door instead of just letting herself in. Maybe nobody else knocks, but she does.
Alonso has a short list of people he considers friends, and most of the female ones are in the room with him presently. So he scrunches up his nose in thought before wondering, "Did she have a name, my dear? Was it someone from town, or a traveler?" He doesn't get up from the couch to come eat, he remains a grumpy ball of darkling. Which is a rare enough thing, him letting his guard down enough to be be genuine around people. So in a backwards way, that's a good thing? He does receive the kiss with a bit of a smile, at least. "Tell the anon in your inbox that you and your communist friends will figure out where he lives and cut off his eyelids with x-acto knives so that his eyeballs dry up like raisins." Did we mention he's grumpy? Needless to say he does not get up to answer the door.
Iris doesn't knock, so it's not Iris. "Pilar. I understand her to be a Pilgrim. I met her at the Wayhouse today when I went to talk to Bishop Winters about becoming a Waykeeper. Her Communist shirt and her Spanish accent made me think 'they should meet,' and then it turns out that you had met. She arrived today." And look, she's arrived at the door now! The back door of the shop itself is the way into the back room, where the hanging out happens. "I agree. Tell the anon in your inbox... we... will do bad things. Hello, Sister," Gisa greets Pilar. "I had just mentioned you to Alonso. Iris is here also. Please, come inside. I have made vegan-friendly food. Iris, the orange plates are for meat, the orange-handled utensils for meat also. Would you mind setting the table?"
"When he sent me the original threat I told him where he could meet me if he wanted to otry and then showed up," Iris says with a casual shrug as she sits down at the table. She starts helping herself to food right off the bat (the chicken biryani, of course, and following the rules about plates and such) and keeps talking. "I recorded the whole time I was there, but he never showed up. Big surprise, right? There's a youtube video of it somewhere." And then she's overhearing that Pilar arrived in town and perks up notably. "Pips is here? Oh, good! I'm pretty sure you'll both like her. Or already do?" She looks at Alonso then and shrugs, and slides of her chair to prepare to reunite with her friend, who is going to get an enthusiastic dragon-hug when she comes in.
Pilar is wearing the same thing she was when she ran into Gisa earlier in the day, which is to say a distinctively red shirt with yellow logo on it, that logo being the mixed all-genders + communist emblems all rolled into one, over which she has an unbuttoned flannel shirt and a pair of jeans. She's a tiny woman made mostly of wood carved in painstakingly perfect detail, edged in brass and held together with fine leather straps. When she moves, stepping inside at the invitation, the motion is accompanied by the faint whirring and clicking of gears, or soft hisses of releases steam. "Hello sister," she says in English with a notably Spanish accent, of Peruvian origins for anyone particularly good at placing Spanish accents. Like, perhaps, a native speaker. "Thank you for the invitation, and--" she gets pulled into a fierce hug, which knowing Iris probably involves her being bodily lifted from the ground and/or spun around in some kind of dramatic fashion. She returns the embrace after a moment, and after she's released steps back. "Hello to you too, Iris." And then she turns her eyes, which look like camera shutter apertures with a faint electric glow behind them, toward Alonso, who she nods to respectfully. "Camarada."
Awh, man. Alonso has to try and be social now. When Pilar steps in, he reluctantly throws off his blanket and stuffs his kindle under the couch cushion where it lives most of the time. He sits up, sets Rabbear aside, and rolls up to his feet to adjust his perpetually dusty shirt. Must look somewhat presentable when reacquainting oneself with comrades one hasn't seen in quite some time. "Comarada," Alonso rejoins with more warmth than he's shown all day, probably. "It has been too long. What brings you so far north? It can't be the food." He begins stepping towards Pilar, opening his arms to her in offer of a comradely embrace. "I trust your journey was a safe one? Do you have lodgings? You must stay with us if not. We have room, and food, and would not imagine turning you away."
He's been a grumpy grouse all day, and now he might be insulting her cooking. One of those things is okay. The other makes the golem look confused, her ceramic forehead crinkling up, and slightly deflate. She greets, "It is good that you have come," she informs Pilar, and goes to busy herself with getting bottles of wine and a pitcher of water, glasses, plates, et cetera. Gisa agrees, "Alonso slept in this room for a while when first he came here." Before he started sleeping upstairs.
Indeed, Iris's hug does involve Pilar leaving the ground, because Iris does almost everything dramatically. "I'm glad you decided to come. I didn't realize that you and Alonso knew each other already, but maybe I should have! You're also welcome to stay with me, I have some rooms I haven't filled with treasure yet, but I have every confidence that Gisa and Alonso are no danger to you if you decide to stay here. Come eat! I certainly plan to." Since she's not hogging the hugging any more she heads back toward her own plate. "I've been meaning to ask you, Gisa and Alonso that is, what your feelings are about nudity. Not in a sexual way, just in a I'm-a-dragon-and-clothes-aren't-made-for-tails-and-wings kind of way. Anything that commodates them looks weird." She pokes her chest. "It's not like I've got boobs for people to get all weird about seeing, and everything is covered by feathers and scales anyway." Since she doesn't ask Pilar what her opinion is, presumably she already knows it? Or she's rude, which is also possible.
Pilar returns the embracce from Alonso too, a little stiffly because all of her movements tend to be a little stilted, and when done she steps back to look up at him and consider the question he asked. Then, as she does so often, she provides a succinct answer: "revolution." She looks toward the table and the food there, looks at Gisa, and then begins to head that way so nobody else feels like she's holding them back from their dinner. "I've been in the united states for almost ten years. I was in Boston before this," she explains further. "That's where I met Iris. I just finished setting up a community agriculture project outside of the city, so it was a fairly convenient time to relocate. I may try to start another one here. As for lodgings, thank you for your gracious offers." She looks around the room and asks, "would you allow me to work in return for the room and meals?"
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Despite his grumpy preoccupation with things he can't tell Gisa about, he still tunes into the fact he potentially insulted her cooking. After stepping out of the embrace of Pilar, he turns towards Gisa to offer her one of her own. A warmer one, and a longer one, that includes rocking back and forth and a kiss right above the glowing shin on her forehead. "Oh, my dear. I only meant that American cuisine is dreadful. You know that. That's why you cook Indian all the time!" He gives her another squeeze with both of his arms before turning back towards Iris and Pilar, leaving one arm draped around Gisa's shoulders. His grumpiness, for the moment at least, abated. "Revolution, indeed. I admire your patient improvement of the material conditions of those around you, Pilar, as always. If you wanted to create such a space here in town, I would of course support you however I am able. I'd been giving thought to doing... something. Not that, precisely, but something. So now I will help you do that, in the absence of a better idea of my own. As for the work? Of course, of course. It's not necessary, but it is welcome."
She's not given to overly emotional displays, but Alonso is a bit of an exception. When he comes to embrace her, Gisa leans in to him, wrapping her warm arms around her body and resting her cheek against his. These sorts of things do make it easier to deal with the fact that he's been grumpy and preoccupied. Spaniard hugs. "I did make the vegan one special," she points out quietly. Her arms squeeze him in return, and she stays leaning on him for a moment, then shoos him toward the table gently. There's wine and food there, after all. "It is part of the pledge our motley undertakes," she points out. "That we upkeep the shop as the motley agrees upon." Not that she's suggesting immediately pulling the other Spanish communist Pilgrim into the Space Communists. Is she?
Once she's gotten everyone shooed toward the table like the good Jewish grandmother that she is, Gisa queries, "Wine, or water?" so she can pour like a good host.
Iris didn't take much shooing, and once she's back at the table she finishes putting more biryani on her plate, sits down, and starts eating. This constitutes basically picking the meat chicken out and eating it, and not touching the rest of it. Sometimes she's like an overly picky, entitled child. On the other hand, she had asked a question which nobody answered and doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact at all, and all in all looks pretty pleased by everything. "They even got me to agree to working," she says with traces of laughter in her voice. "Since it's a pledge, I even take it seriously." Not that she's the best worker, even still. "The farm thing is pretty cool, and I say that as someone who is a carnivore talking about a farm that didn't have animals, thus nothing I could actually eat. I like the idea, even if it's not for me. I think that having people reconnect with such basic things that the modern world separates them from so far, like the work that goes into the food they eat, is actually really important. I'm willing to help as well."
"I'd like to do something bigger with it this time, too," Pilar continues, since Alonso's interest and Iris's supportive comments seem to encourage her. "I'd like to set up a maker space as well, with community owned tools and workshops so that people can learn to make and fix things instead of relying on cheaply manufactured goods and a mindset of replacing instead of repairing. Even on a small scale, I want people to have access to means of production they might not otherwise. Let them see what they're missing." She takes a seat at the table, looks at the food options, and serves herself some of the meat-free biryani. "I'm open to help with the project, of course. I want it to belong to all of us who find value in it, not just to me." With a clicking of gears and shift in the aperture of her eyes she looks at Gisa and says, "wine please. I'll be glad to help with maintaining the shop in return for the room and board."
"If we secured a large enough building, we could provide lodgings for artists in residence. A free library, perhaps. Free courses for computer literacy. Language lessons. Tax assistance." Alonso's mind whirrs with the possibilities figuratively, even if Pilar's does so literally. "There is a collective of sorts in town. Cat-22 it's called. It's. More of a coffee shop and bar sort of space. Not." Alonso pauses, then opts not to speak further on it. "Anyway, I am very fond of your idea." Alonso gives Gisa one more squeeze, then steps away from her side to head over to the table and take a chair for himself. He'll eat, if only to make Gisa happy. "Oh. And nudity? That's really up to you. I'm from a much more modest time, all told. But I'm no prude, either. Forgive me if I don't join you, yes?"
"I would be very pleased to work on a proper collective. And yes, she does work in the shop. If we could expand it and put in a Maker space, an artist's space, and make it a truly inclusive working farm, it would be very good, indeed." Gisa leans in against Alonso, offering him a kiss on the cheek -- scandalous amounts of attention in public from the golem -- as she settles in and starts getting drinks. "I do not mind nudity. Unlike many people in this town, Alonso and I are not polyamorous. My relationship with him is the one thing I do not share. Not that this is what you were asking, but I am told I miss some social cues. It is best to be clear. I am modest by habit, but affectionate by nature with those I choose as my own. And I am warm. So nudity is fine, as is platonic contact." Look. Iris is a dragon. Gisa's just gonna put it out there: she's essentially a giant walking sunning rock.
"You know I support you, Pips," Iris says as she continues picking bits of chicken out of her rice and eating them. "What is it you say? From each according to their ability? Well, I have the ability to provide a lot of financial support to get things going, if you need. I can help with some of the other things too." She gives Alonso a toothy grin and says, "I was born in the 19th century, and I'm pretty sure the person I used to be would be aghast at the person I am. That's too bad for her, though, because I'm awesome." As she nibbles another piece of the chicken she listens to Gisa and nods vigorously, then puts down the fork so she can wave her hands reassuringly. "I appreciate the clarity, but you have nothing to worry about. If your relationship isn't open I respect that completely. I'm quite happy with platonic contact, and with nudity, but I don't interfere with people's relationships. And even if I'm drunk you don't have to worry about me trying to hit anyone up for sex, because mamalian-style intercourse is kind of gross. You can consider me asexual for all intents and purposes."
It's entirely possible that the person in the room the least comfortable with this conversation is the Spring, which is probably about as rare as hen's teeth. Pilar's rather wooden expression, pun intended, doesn't betray much of her thoughts on what's being talked about, but the fact that she stays quiet through the whole conversation about nudity and relationships and snuggling and everything else probably speaks its own volumes. After Iris finishes Pilar clears her throat, which sounds more like someone trying to drive a car with a manual transmission who doesn't know what a clutch pedal is. "I like all of your additional ideas, Alonso. I'm not interested in starting a coffee shop or bar. Except in what's going to be necessary to start the place up, I'd rather have no monetary exchange involved at all if I can avoid it. I just arrived in town. Do either of you know anywhere that might be a good location?"
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