The dancing lady with the crown is you, because you seem like a princess (I mean that in a good way) the drinks are me asking if you want to find a bar and get shitfaced and the woman with the crossed arms and the praise hands are me saying that there will be no slapping allowed at this outing
and you don’t need to sign off text messages i mean you can but it’s weird, 💃🏻👑
The bulletin said you wanted to cook for everyone? That's nice, and maybe a lot of people need that, since it's mostly just canned food and pine trees here. But hello, I'm Quentin and if you need any help, I'm mostly not busy and I know how to put food on a plate?
Please tell me no one is actually eating pine trees.
I'd love for any help I can get. This is an all hands on deck situation, I have no idea how many people are actually here. Any experience with cooking, Quentin?
I hope not? But we've been pretty low on supplies for a while? So- maybe?
I can make ramen noodles? And I can put things on to plates? Slice things, maybe. I'm not really that good in a kitchen, but I'd like to help. I'm pretty good at doing the dishes.
[Waiting in front of Midge's door is a giftbasket. There's four bottles of wine (three red, one white), a bottle of whiskey, and two packs of cigarettes and lighter. Oh, and a small notecard that simply reads: R.L.]
Mrs. Miriam Maisel, this is Sarissa Eunike Noelene Theron. Should've changed it to Karahalios when I was eighteen but I didn't... fuckin' think about it, so.
( Eunike is Ev-nee-ki - or listen to this handy guide - funny, that she pronounces one of those names and lets the Greek accent of her grandmother roll out strong, and then all but whiplashes with the broad, deeply Australian way she says the other. )
But you're Missus Maisel. Although, you know m-r-s was also short for like, Mistress. Like Mistress of the house, I guess. Missstress Maisel.
I feel like I've just won Winner Take All! Just a few things:
-Can it do dishes? Dishes are very important. -Do I have to feed it? -Should I worry about a bed? -Is this common where you're from? You seem very competent. -I still don't know what a droid is.
Thanks! -Miriam
(PS I tried to organize this in order of importance.) (PPS this seems like a lot of work. I'm going to bring you coffee.)
[ It is extremely possible she selectively ignored the'i will show you how to properly use and maintain it' comment in order to chat. ]
You don't have to feed it but you do have to recharge it. Droids don't need rest but you can power it down.
Droids are mechanical machines and are very common where I am from. They are programmed to do a wide variety of tasks and have many uses. MSE droids are very simple droids by design and have very limited uses, especially with what I have available here.
Miriam, you have my regards for the thoughtful gifts. If you are available, I would request your company and perhaps expert supervision in preparing the recipe.
[ when miriam is in the invincible during dinner time, she'll be approached by a spirit who is hiding under an overturned picnic basket. the only thing she'll be able to see are the spirit's big, round eyes through their handmade slot - quickly followed by a paper plate, doodled with hearts and smiles, being pushed out of the slot and towards her direction.
judging by the needy squeaks they're making and the time they approached her, the spirit is asking for food.
if she doesn't give the spirit food, the spirit lets out a sad noise and quickly scuttles away. they make sad sniffling sounds all the while.
if she gives the spirit food, the spirit lets out an excited noise and the basket shakes in clear excitement. small hands dart out from beneath the basket, taking the plate and soon the spirit gorging on the offered food - with alarmingly and distressingly noisy sounds of too many teeth gnashing together as the spirit consumes all of their meal, basket shaking from the ferocity of their feasting.
the spirit then skitters away upon finishing, seemingly having eaten everything given back to them. including the paper plate. well... one less thing to clean? ]
[ honestly it's just this gif once she gets it, and whether Clark likes it or not, the next time he's in the kitchen she's gonna smooch his cheek as a thanks! ]
( dean's practically been haunting the invincible all day. at least since mid-afternoon. it's five o'clock somewhere, right? and what even is "mid-afternoon" anymore when it's practically pitch fucking dark outside all the time anyway? no one can accuse him of day drinking when there's no daylight.
anyway, much to the spirits' annoyance, he keeps asking for another round, because this is supposed to be valentine's day but it feels more like the wake for his love life. the spirits outside shoving glitter paint in his face and forcing him to sing horrible pop songs have not heightened his, well, spirits. valentine's day is usually his favorite holiday, the best time of the year to get a little wild and have a good time with a total stranger for an hour or four. in any other place, it'd be easy. he'd have women batting their eyelashes at him left and right.
here? not so much. it doesn't help that the invincible is practically deserted.
except, of course, for the only woman in the building, it seems, who looks like she walked straight out of the 50s. like stepford wife meets sexy librarian. he can work with that. and, hey, he's had a few. he's not even necessarily trying to hit on her, it's just that everything he says tends to sound that way. he downs the last of his drink and heads toward her, pulling up a chair at wherever she happens to be sitting. )
So. ( a lazy smile spreads over his lips. ) What's a dame like you doin' in a dump like this? ( he means beacon in general, but she's free to take it however she pleases. )
[ Midge has been avoiding the spirits as well--can you blame her? Her love life is a mess, she misses Joel and Benjamin, and any other time she'd be wined and dined and wooed. Miriam loves love, loves being in love, loves the idea of love, but here it's a big fat bupkiss. She's usually okay with that--she's gotta find her own path first, right? But it doesn't make it suck less.
She doesn't feel lonely so much as lost, like the universe has gone 'hey, midge, remember how you used to have it all, even when you lost everything and became a stand-up comedian? Welp, that's over now, too! Have some chocolate.'
But she puts up a good front and a nice smile, though she's dipping into the baking chocolate by the time someone walks in. She's still dressed to the nines--a nice blue, perfectly fitted dress--while she's waiting on her macaroni and cheese to bake. She's seated at a little table, a rather large knife and a cutting board placed in front of her as she hacks off slivers of bitter chocolate like she owns the entirety of the kitchen.
(in her mind, she does) ]
Trying to pretend today doesn't exist.
[ It's dry and to the point, and Miriam takes the knife--wumpf--and slams it down on a good, sizable chunk of chocolate, wordlessly offering it over to the other. He sounds drunk. Is he drunk? He's probably drunk. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
un: vegemight
🍹🍸🍷🥃🍺?
🙅♀️🙌🙌🙌
un: Mrs.Maisel
-Midge
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The dancing lady with the crown is you, because you seem like a princess (I mean that in a good way)
the drinks are me asking if you want to find a bar and get shitfaced
and the woman with the crossed arms and the praise hands are me saying that there will be no slapping allowed at this outing
and you don’t need to sign off text messages
i mean you can but it’s weird, 💃🏻👑
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text @ SuprNerd
un: Mrs.Maisel
I'd love for any help I can get. This is an all hands on deck situation, I have no idea how many people are actually here. Any experience with cooking, Quentin?
-Midge
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I can make ramen noodles? And I can put things on to plates? Slice things, maybe. I'm not really that good in a kitchen, but I'd like to help. I'm pretty good at doing the dishes.
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gift; 12/25
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a drunk call;
( She's already talking into the phone when - if - Midge answers, because girl drunk. )
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This is Miriam Maisel.
[ She's automatically in her B. Altman phone operator voice. ]
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( Eunike is Ev-nee-ki - or listen to this handy guide - funny, that she pronounces one of those names and lets the Greek accent of her grandmother roll out strong, and then all but whiplashes with the broad, deeply Australian way she says the other. )
But you're Missus Maisel. Although, you know m-r-s was also short for like, Mistress. Like Mistress of the house, I guess. Missstress Maisel.
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audio > action
action > should I set up a log, bruh?
text; @hux
It should be done by the end of this month at the latest.
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I feel like I've just won Winner Take All! Just a few things:
-Can it do dishes? Dishes are very important.
-Do I have to feed it?
-Should I worry about a bed?
-Is this common where you're from? You seem very competent.
-I still don't know what a droid is.
Thanks!
-Miriam
(PS I tried to organize this in order of importance.)
(PPS this seems like a lot of work. I'm going to bring you coffee.)
[ It is extremely possible she selectively ignored the'i will show you how to properly use and maintain it' comment in order to chat. ]
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You don't have to feed it but you do have to recharge it. Droids don't need rest but you can power it down.
Droids are mechanical machines and are very common where I am from. They are programmed to do a wide variety of tasks and have many uses. MSE droids are very simple droids by design and have very limited uses, especially with what I have available here.
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During the Blizzard | text | @thursday
-- Castiel
@eleven | text (post lantern event)
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[ You know it's serious when Miriam doesn't treat the tablet like she's writing a letter. ]
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REACTION. / A CUSTOMER.
judging by the needy squeaks they're making and the time they approached her, the spirit is asking for food.
if she doesn't give the spirit food, the spirit lets out a sad noise and quickly scuttles away. they make sad sniffling sounds all the while.
if she gives the spirit food, the spirit lets out an excited noise and the basket shakes in clear excitement. small hands dart out from beneath the basket, taking the plate and soon the spirit gorging on the offered food - with alarmingly and distressingly noisy sounds of too many teeth gnashing together as the spirit consumes all of their meal, basket shaking from the ferocity of their feasting.
the spirit then skitters away upon finishing, seemingly having eaten everything given back to them. including the paper plate. well... one less thing to clean? ]
omg
It's one hell of a sight, but the plate had been cute. Way too cute. It certainly made her day! ]
@silent | Feb. 10
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Yes! Yes, absolutely. I could use the distraction and I still have all of my things here.
We'll figure out something fun for you AND apply the basics of simple brush techniques!
-Midge
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happy valentine's day!
Ms. Midge,
Thank you for letting me help you in your kitchen. Sometimes you just really need a purpose, you know?
Happy Valentine's Day! I made sure to keep the cookies kosher.
Love,
Clark ]
reaction;
ACTION.
anyway, much to the spirits' annoyance, he keeps asking for another round, because this is supposed to be valentine's day but it feels more like the wake for his love life. the spirits outside shoving glitter paint in his face and forcing him to sing horrible pop songs have not heightened his, well, spirits. valentine's day is usually his favorite holiday, the best time of the year to get a little wild and have a good time with a total stranger for an hour or four. in any other place, it'd be easy. he'd have women batting their eyelashes at him left and right.
here? not so much. it doesn't help that the invincible is practically deserted.
except, of course, for the only woman in the building, it seems, who looks like she walked straight out of the 50s. like stepford wife meets sexy librarian. he can work with that. and, hey, he's had a few. he's not even necessarily trying to hit on her, it's just that everything he says tends to sound that way. he downs the last of his drink and heads toward her, pulling up a chair at wherever she happens to be sitting. )
So. ( a lazy smile spreads over his lips. ) What's a dame like you doin' in a dump like this? ( he means beacon in general, but she's free to take it however she pleases. )
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She doesn't feel lonely so much as lost, like the universe has gone 'hey, midge, remember how you used to have it all, even when you lost everything and became a stand-up comedian? Welp, that's over now, too! Have some chocolate.'
But she puts up a good front and a nice smile, though she's dipping into the baking chocolate by the time someone walks in. She's still dressed to the nines--a nice blue, perfectly fitted dress--while she's waiting on her macaroni and cheese to bake. She's seated at a little table, a rather large knife and a cutting board placed in front of her as she hacks off slivers of bitter chocolate like she owns the entirety of the kitchen.
(in her mind, she does) ]
Trying to pretend today doesn't exist.
[ It's dry and to the point, and Miriam takes the knife--wumpf--and slams it down on a good, sizable chunk of chocolate, wordlessly offering it over to the other. He sounds drunk. Is he drunk? He's probably drunk. ]
Drink some water.
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