Hot Potato (party log)

[desperate_times_right]

Who: Chloe Frazer & any and all party people!!
What: Harvest Celebrations/Halloween Party/Ruby’s Birthday/Rat Marriage/Big Communal Cooking Party so Chloe doesn't burn down her house
When: October 12
Where: At Chloe’s house on Greene Street

Content Warnings: Food descriptions, probably.
Other Notes: Feel free to make this a mingle and reply to other characters!

Chloe had wondered whether to go through with the harvest party once Lalo had disappeared, but as they say, the show must go on. There's still a lot worth celebrating, and people need something hopeful after the mess last month. Luckily her house had made it through everything all right.

The poster had said to wear a costume, so she's hoping to see a lot of those, and she’d recruited some people to help her put together the menu exactly to Lalo’s specifications, so unfortunately no one is safe from British Potatoes. There are even candles for the birthday cake.

Chloe herself is dressed as a sexy lumberjack, with one of Lalo’s old flannels tied in a knot under her breasts and denim cutoffs made from the jeans Kostya had gotten blood on (shh). She's got a fire roaring, because otherwise she’d freeze.

Comments

ii.

[desperate_times_right]

“It’s called a tortilla,” says the sexy lumberjack doling out the food. “You put some meat, some of the Mexican potatoes, maybe a little of our bootleg sour cream, then you fold it up like a little pouch and eat it.”

[nohero]

"A tortilla," Reiner repeats. If he were to write it down, he would definitely misspell it, but his pronunciation isn't bad. "So, it's a little like the bread for a sandwich?"

He's curious about the difference between "Mexican potatoes" and "British potatoes," but doesn't ask just yet. To him, those are just strange words, not the names of countries in his world.

He's also curious as to how this woman is staying warm in such an outfit—but he supposes the fire must be helping a great deal.

[desperate_times_right]

“Kind of, yeah, or like an unsealed dumpling.” She takes a look at this guy’s blond hair and stoic presentation. “Pierogi? Anyway, it's really just meant to hold the filling together.”

[nohero]

'Dumpling' doesn't strike home, but 'pierogi' does. Reiner nods, glancing down at the tortilla; with the new comparison in mind, the tortilla suddenly makes far more sense.

"Thank you," he says, raising his head to look at her again. He doesn't quite smile, but his tone is warm, gratitude plain. "We didn't have a wide selection of food where I'm from. A lot of this is new.

"Like these." He gestures to the potatoes. "British and Mexican potatoes. I know about potatoes, but not those."

Judging by his careful pronunciation, it may be apparent that both 'British' and 'Mexican' are new words to him.

[desperate_times_right]

“Oh,” Chloe says, laughing. “It's kind of a joke. We were trying to make something the sailor guys might like, so the British potatoes are just plain. No spices or anything. The Mexican ones are done as close as we could do to the way they prepare them in Mexico. That's the country my friend who made the menu comes from.”

[nohero]

No spices in food just founds like ordinary food to Reiner. There wasn't an abundance of spices in Paradis, especially as the famine stretched on. There were more spices in Liberio, Reiner's hometown—but he spent much of the past four years on the front lines of various wars, where his meals were restricted to rations.

In other words: British potatoes taste like ordinary potatoes to Reiner.

"I've never heard of Mexico," Reiner admits as he spoons up some of the mysterious Mexican potatoes, nestling them in a tortilla as instructed. "Or British. I suppose that's because of the 'different worlds' thing."

Which is still hard to wrap his head around. Then again, he arrived here from what he believes to be the end of his world—or at least most of humanity. Strange times, indeed.

"I'm Reiner. From Marley, if you're familiar with it."

[desperate_times_right]

“Not at all,” Chloe says breezily, “but there are people from all sorts of places and times here, so odds are someone else might be.”

People do seem to kind of come here in little clumps.

[nohero]

Reiner shakes his head a little, a half-amused smile tugging at his lips. "That's incredible to think about. Marley is the most powerful country in the— in my world. Not knowing it exists is rare."

Rare, but not unheard of, as a certain island nation proved.

Something else catches his interest, sparking curiosity. "When you say 'places and times,' what do you mean?"

[desperate_times_right]

“As far as I know, in my world, Marley is just a surname.” Definitely not the name of the most powerful country in the world.

“I'm sure you've noticed some of it. I'm from a world like this one, but everything here says 2014 on it and the year at home was 2018. Kostya is from the 1980s and the sailors are from way before that.”

[nohero]

Reiner blinks, staring blankly for a moment. 2014? 2018? 1980s?

He's not so arrogant as to believe he was getting a handle on things. How could he, when this is all so new? But still, this information throws him.

"The years is 854 where I'm from."

[desperate_times_right]

“I’m betting they don't measure it from the same event, anyway.” Probably every world numbers it differently.

[nohero]

"Definitely not," Reiner agrees. "Unless the word 'Eldia' means something to you."

Given her unfamiliarity with Marley, Reiner doubts it.

"What event does your world measure from?"

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe answers that with a little shrug. It's as he expected.

“We measure from the birth of a dominant religious figure. That's why the numbers are so big.”

[nohero]

"Religion is that important where you're from?" Reiner asks, his eyebrows rising.

"It's…" He hesitates, briefly searching for a phrase that doesn't contain the negative connotations used by many Marleyans. "… More like an oddity in mine."

[desperate_times_right]

“It basically took over the world.” Chloe makes a face. “It's not even my religion and I still use that dating system.”

[nohero]

For a moment, Reiner considers asking if the religious figure is named Ymir. But Ymir is inexorably tied to Eldia; knowing one without knowing the other wouldn't make sense.

So he shakes his head, bemused. "It's tough for me to imagine a religion holding so much sway."

[desperate_times_right]

“Countries that followed that religion colonized huge chunks of the world, so it shows up all over the place.” Chloe shrugs. “You said Marley is really powerful, right? If they've got colonies their secular culture might kind of be like that.”

[nohero]

It's a good point. It may well be accurate, too. It isn't as if Reiner had the opportunity to live in such places. Whenever he visited far-away lands, it was always as a key component of Marley's military.

Maybe there were all kinds of religions in the countries he helped defeat. Or maybe those religions were lost long ago, crushed by a different army. There's no way for Reiner to know.

"I can see how that could spread it," he says.

[desperate_times_right]

“It's hard to imagine the kind of world you're from,” Chloe admits. “I’m not particularly observant, but religion has really shaped the course of my life.”

[nohero]

"How so?" Reiner asks, curious.

He could take a few guesses. Religion in her world sounds about as inescapable as war in his. But he wonders if there are more personal aspects to it.

[desperate_times_right]

“Religious extremists killed my father,” Chloe says with a little shrug. “Tried to kill me too, later, but I'm not a professor.”

She's a little harder to stop.

“After that, I spent my teens in a church-run boarding school. Thumbs down.”

[nohero]

Reiner's brows pinch together. "I'm sorry to hear that."

His words could sound like an empty platitude. But he means it, tone touched with genuine sympathy. He knows that even if the death happened years ago, the pain still cuts; and sometimes, surviving can hurt just as much.

Reiner doesn't ask why the extremists targeted her father (and later her). The fact that her father was a professor tells Reiner enough.

"Can I ask what you are? I mean, outside of this place."

He means "this world"—but given the costumes and the celebration, he really ought to be clearer.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe nods. “Thanks.”

She hardly ever talks about it, but the world here isn't the same as the one she comes from. There’s no one here she relies on to get paid, and the posturing so common in the underground is much rarer.

“Well, I can tell you I'm not a lumberjack.” In case he couldn't guess that from her costume.

[nohero]

Reiner noticed the outfit earlier, though he mostly wondered how Chloe was staying warm. He figured it was a costume, but he had no idea what Chloe was meant to be.

Now, as she jokes about lumberjacks, it finally clicks.

Reiner breathes out a chuckle, subdued yet unmistakable. His smile is subdued, too: broad for only a moment before quieting down, amusement showing more in his eyes than on his lips. But for that moment, he looks younger. More like his twenty-one years than someone trudging toward the end of the world.

"Really?" he teases. "I thought all lumberjacks liked to dare branches to scrape them."

What with all the exposed skin. He can only imagine trying to work around trees in that.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe laughs, pleased with the analysis. “Everyone’s a critic.”

Her partner back home is always giving her a hard time about her outfits, too. Maybe she's talented enough that wearing red in the jungle doesn't matter.

“Do you guys have Halloween where you come from?”