A Different Sort Of Party

[not_as_i_do]

Who: Martin Whitly and anyone else who would like to come!
What: A mingle party ... with discussion of That Mysterious Puzzle
When: Saturday, September 12th, 7 PM
Where: Martin's Manhattan apartment (<-- AirBnB link)
Warnings: Discussion of puzzles/the bureau? I'm sure we'll all be good gamemates and label any other triggers if they come up.

Guests would have been given Martin's apartment number... and a placard in the lobby lists his number by the elevator. It deposits them directly into his living room, a large, spacious area with plenty of late evening light coming through the windows and a soft glow from the fireplace off to their left. There's lots of space to mingle: couches, chairs, a table in the kitchen and another on a very fuzzy rug by windows looking out over the skyline as the sun sets. An iPod hooked to a dock in one corner is playing mellow acoustic folk, but anyone who really feels the need to commandeer the stereo system to cut a rug can swap out their phone or MP3 player.

Martin has cleared off the larger of the tables in preparation for any food or drinks people might have felt generous enough to bring. He's ordered a plate of various cupcakes from a certain bakery as a small joke to Anakin, but there are enough flavors to please everyone... even a few well-marked gluten-free and vegan options if anyone should need them. His fridge is well-stocked with sodas, and a standing cooler by the door out onto the roof deck is full of ice with a variety pack of beer there to invite additions.

The decor is - unlike in the linked photos - very lived-in and almost vintage-looking, but well-maintained.
The lighting is good and bright without being glaring, and overall it feels like a pretty laid-back, welcoming atmosphere to come, meet some fellow Different in a place that doesn't make you feel like a victim or recovering addict, put your feet up, and have a good evening.

((Feel free to make your own TLs if you wish! I'll have one for just mingling and one specifically for discussion/info-sharing.))

Comments

Your Host

[not_as_i_do]

Early: Martin will be still doing some last-minute bustling as the first of the guests arrive: putting the ice in the drink cooler, setting out the cupcakes, fanning out an array of menus in case some folks didn't feel like bringing food and would rather order something to be delivered.

Mid-Party: For the most part he's mingling with everyone, making introductions, chatting. If you haven't made his acquaintance in-depth yet, he'll touch you lightly on the arm: "Just checking in on you. Everything alright, enjoying yourself?"

Otherwise, feel free to commandeer him for a conversation of your own, or catch him while he's clearing away empty red Solo cups to minimize cleanup in the aftermath...

Toward The End: Martin is a very, very social drinker. At this point, now that all the discussion has been done and the secrets have been revealed, the combination of being in good company and trying to not appear quite so distressed about some of the implications of things, he's decidedly in his cups. He will become even more talkative than usual. And smiley. And possibly a little a great deal flirty, for those who might be interested in such details...

mid-party

[bearshermark]

Elliott ducked his head.

"Just a little worried a few people might not want me here," he confessed, "But I'm okay. Everything here is fine. Thanks for inviting me- or, well, everyone, I guess."

[not_as_i_do]

"What?" Martin's eyebrows rose in confused surprise. "Why on Earth wouldn't they? You're the first one I met here who really seemed to have his eye on the ball about all of this stuff."

[bearshermark]

He colored a little, feet shuffling.

"Just my uh, employment decisions haven't been... well-received. I don't know if you've heard yet. Sorry."

[not_as_i_do]

The way he skirted around actually saying what he did, and the nature of the party, made it rather easy for Martin to put two and two together. Somehow, he was almost startling himself with how well he had begun to read people.

"So you work with the Bureau," he said quietly, no judgement in his tone ... just a thoughtfulness. "Am I right in thinking you had good intentions, but now that things like our little puzzle are coming to light, you're not sure?"

Early

[hardtoignore]

Clarence was well aware that there was going to be drinking at this party so to save himself the embarrassment of a breakdown, he had come as early as he dared. Unfortunately, that meant few people were here to start and he was practically alone with the host. At least the man had been kind enough to offer non-alcoholic drinks for him and the others who... well. Maybe it would only matter to him, he thought grimly.

Taking a deep breath, Clarence approached the refreshments with a hesitant step, tilting his head just so as he regarded Martin. "... You really went all out for this, huh?"

[not_as_i_do]

He knew Anakin didn't imbibe, and Lisa and Elliot were too young for it as well. Since he'd been certain at least two of them were coming, he didn't want them to feel excluded or stuck with water from the filtering spigot on his refrigerator.

The fresh face was good to see - he was happy that his invitation had been well-received by Different he hadn't met yet, as well. "Oh, I don't know about all out. But my profession allows me enough of a budget to do a shindig like this once in a while. Thank you for coming... I'm sorry we haven't had the chance to speak before."

He set down the bundle of napkins he'd been unwrapping and held out a hand for a greeting.

[hardtoignore]

The word "shindig" gave Clarence pause, but he shook it off and refocused his attention to what Martin was saying. "Yeah... guess that is a perk of being a professional."

Oh god, a handshake. Way to make this awkward for the Gen-Z kid. But Clarence only had a slight moment of panic while he struggled to pull his hands out of his hoodie pocket in order to properly give Martin a return grip.

"Y-yeah. Sorry, I'm Clarence. I've been around but I've... I'm not very good with talking to adults." He chuckled weakly. "Stranger danger and all that..."

[not_as_i_do]

He met the awkwardness and the handshake with a warm, reassuring chuckle. "That's quite alright, Clarence. I'm fairly certain no one here is of any danger to anyone else. And if they are? I'll make sure it's taken care of. No one's getting hurt under my roof. ... How long has it been since the Bureau approached you?"

So many teenagers affected by this, he thinks, keeping a frown from his face. Next time he speaks to anyone at the Bureau, he might have words about that. He can't imagine his niece or nephew having to cope with all of this.

Mid-Party

[consortofalderaan]

"Actually," Bail said, shifting his drink to his left hand and holding out his right hand to introduce himself.

"I'm glad for the opportunity to finally meet you face to face. I'm Bail."

[not_as_i_do]

"Oh!" His face split into a fuzzy grin as he took that handshake. "Yes! Glad to see you, too! More than a name on a directory or a network, always a good thing. Didn't have any trouble finding the place, I hope?"

[consortofalderaan]

“No trouble at all,” Bail waved off Martin’s concern. “Thank you for doing this. I think we all needed a space to... talk away from the Bureau’s ears.”

The Message

[not_as_i_do]

Once it seems that the majority of the guests have arrived, Martin will pull the blinds on the larger of the windows, then take out a manila folder from one of his bookshelves.

"Here, one of you take this, take a copy, and pass it on." Inside are several copies of a message, which Martin has rewritten and then run through a copier. "There are no digital records of this other than on the locked network ... I think it may be best we keep it that way. But I wanted you all to see this. Mr. Fell, Jem, and myself all puzzled it out a few weeks ago, and I'd been thinking of the best way to share. Since our friend Elliot was so kind as to share the things he's heard, I thought it might be best to continue the discussion as a group..."

The message reads:

I have to be careful in what I say in these posts. I’m trying to give you information without getting you in too much trouble, you know. If I dropped everything I know, it would be...Bad for you. But did you work out the significance of the deed I sent you a copy of? I hope you did.

Anyway, I will say that at this point you don’t have a bead on who or what Mr. Martin is. None of you do. All I can say right now: he’s not as simple as you think he is.

I do want to warn you of something else. Now that you have the option to be private, don’t go and post everything privately. Post as much public stuff as you can think of that you normally would have posted on a regular basis, from here on out. You understand what I mean? If they figure out there’s an underground network...It won’t be good. Not for any of us.

Re: The Message

[captainspain]

Jack takes the offered piece of paper and reads it over with a quiet frown. "That last part is the oddest thing to me," he says after he's read the letter a second time. "why would they want to hear anything we consider private...it's almost like the letter writer is trying to walk the Different into a trap."

He shakes his head and reads the letter again. "But again why would they want to do that...what would be the point?"

[hardtoignore]

Clarence would be the first to admit he hadn't thought too much of the weird post back in the day, but knowing that there was more to the story intrigued him. He read over the translation and frowned.

"There's literally no telling who this person is, so they could be a spy from the Bureau. I mean," he shrugged, "not that I know jack about hacking, but a government agency would probably be able to detect someone messing with the coding in their system. How do we know they didn't realize we made a private option for the network right from the start?"

[captainspain]

Jack nodded his agreement. For some reason he doesn't understand the Bureau makes him uneasy. He assumes it's because they have so much influence in the lives of the Different, but he isn't sure. Since finding more of the Different he might be connected to he's been listening to his instincts more. "If they've been tracking us the way we think they might be, they would have known about what we were up to the second we did anything." He doesn't like that idea at al. "I'm starting to wonder if they even have our best interests at heart."

[bearshermark]

Heart in his throat, Elliott read the message. He remembered the post; it had unsettled him so much that he'd quickly tabbed out. To think there was a coded message hidden in it- and it was everything he feared.

He shivered, tense with the new insight. It was very divisive.

"Did anyone sort out the significance of the deed?" he asked, glancing around. "I know I didn't, but.. I'm not good at these things.."

[darkforcerising]

Anakin read through the message. He thought it was... interesting. He didn't have a problem posting weird shit on the regular if it helped keep the private filter running.

"The Manhattan Engineer District was the original name of the Manhattan Project," Anakin said without looking up. "The person's name on the deed was the first director of the project or something."

[bearshermark]

Elliott frowned, then read through the coded message once more before passing it off to someone else.

"Okay..." he said slowly, feeling a little dumb for not grasping any implications there. "But what does that have to do with us or the Bureau?"

Re: The Message

[madman_with_a_box]

John had been enjoying the party; he'd brought a banana cream pie and a bottle of wine to thank the host for, well, being a host, and had generally been mingling. He knew Jack, so he had chatted with him for a bit, but when the blinds were drawn and things really started to get interesting, he felt, ultimately, rather confused. The significance of this paper, the darkened, secretive atmosphere of the room - he wondered just what he had walked into.

Of course, he hadn't trusted the Bureau, not since they'd first met. It had all seemed a bit too shady, but this was all a bit lost on him. He peered over his glasses, his frown increasing. He read the messages on the paper, and felt an unpleasant chill in his spine.

"...I'm sorry; this is all a bit lost on me," he admitted quietly. "Did whatever this makes reference to happen before I was part of the Different?"

Re: The Message

[ashenscipher]

"You are new, yes?" Bitterblue asked with her French accent.

"Back in May," she explained, "a number of us were contacted directly by Mr. Martin. He implied that we were doing something nefarious. The next day we all received a courier post delivered personally. The envelops contained a photograph of a deed for the Bureau building with a handwritten message from this M-M-F individual. When we tried to verify the deed, it was not registered with any government office. Very mysterious."

Re: The Message

[madman_with_a_box]

John was a lot of things, and clever was one of them. Very little slipped past him, intellectually, but as this lady began to attempt to explain the situation to him, he was astounded to find that he was even more confused than before. Still, he listened intently until she had finished, then glanced back at the paper in his hand.

"Yes, I'm new, but I'm sorry - I'm afraid I'm still really rather lost. Do you mean Mr. Martin at the Bureau, or the Mr. Martin who is our host here today? Well, I guess you'd call him Mister and his last name, or he's a doctor, isn't he?" He'd sworn he'd heard someone mention that.

"I suppose the question here is - were you all doing something nefarious? And then someone sent you all the deed to the building - and the land? Where the Bureau's building is situated, but it wasn't registered."

John mulled over this for a moment, deep in thought.

"Or the documents detailing the title and deed were redacted, or classified - but you'd think it would have been public record."

[not_as_i_do]

"Mm, yes," Martin said. He decided that this was as good a time as ever to tuck into that pie, so he moved toward the open kitchen to find a knife and a pie server, rummaging as he spoke.

"The message was a few weeks ago, but whatever brought the deed onto the table was before my time. And I've only been part of this for a couple of months. ... Pie looks scrumptious, by the way. Care for a bit?"

[madman_with_a_box]

"Oh sure! Why not; love bananas, me. Thought I'd try my hand at baking."

Once the pie had been situated, and he and Martin - Doctor? Whitly, were settled, his attention went back to the paper that he had set on the countertop when they'd went for the banana creme. He let his eyes scan over it again, and tried to parse it out.

"Now, I admit, I'm sort of an outsider and a newcomer to all of this, but I'd like to think I'm pretty decent at solving a good mystery. A nice French lady out there tried to explain it to me; people were accused of being naughty, and then they all got sent a copy of the title deed to the Bureau Building? Whose name was on the deed? And who wrote this message here? I would assume that the significance of the deed and it not being on record would be that, well, it's entirely possible that the records are classified, or that the Bureau doesn't officially exist as a government entity. Titles and deeds are on public record, aren't they? Ooh, it's sort of like the X-Files."

OTL, early to mid-party

[hardtoignore]

Clarence didn't plan on staying long; there was alcohol here and while he could deal with some people drinking at a party (like the big one back in Krajina Božstiev) he would not be able to stand being in such a small space with that kind of behavior for long. So he arrived early, grabbed a cup of Sprite and found a quiet corner to hide in as he watched more and more Different arrive.

It was a decent crowd, he had to admit, but he wasn't necessarily surprised. There was little love for the Bureau among their kind. It was growing more apparent by the day how little anyone trusted them. Clarence didn't know what to think but perhaps here he would at least hear something helpful for dealing with them in the future.