Pahuuden Maa Event Catch All Log

[tramitem]

Who: You and everyone else
What: Exploring Pahuuden Maa, the newly expanded universe
When: Pre-dated Dec 15 - but all events in this thread happen Dec 21 - Jan 4
Where: Pahuuden Maa
Rating/Warnings: Please add approprite CW/TW labels to your threads if necessary when necessary
NOTES: Solstice Plot Dec 2020: Pahuuden Maa


Welcome to a new universe, everyone.

Please use this as a Catch All Log Event post for all your winter adventuring needs. You may use the link above to remember all the various things you can do in this new space. But below, we've listed a summary

1. Visit the Ice Palace

• The Ice Palace has gardens with ice and snow sculptures
• There is also the ice maze to have fun in.
• The Ballroom
• Fine dining

2. The outdoor ice rink

Spend a day skating the whole way around, there are skate rentals and food all the way around the rink.

3. Visit the Ski Lodge

• For skiing and snowshoeing
• Rent a room for a night or week, or whatever
• There's the dining room for a good warm meal
• The saunas
• The hotsprings

4. Explore the Mountains and Forests

• Go for a walk
• Take note of the unique plants (get high?)
• Take a picture of the unique animals
• Run into a wild Energy Burst

5. Visit the town

• Go shopping!
• Go for a sleigh ride
• Remember, there's a big trolley pulled by a team of reindeer that is essentially a bar on wheels
• Visit the reindeer stables
• Run into/capture some mischievous Energy Bursts

6. Generally marvel at the magic in this place

7. Have fun!

Comments

[scotch_egg]

He wouldn't admit it but he was looking forward to the soup. He accepted the pills and the water and knocked them back, then rolled his head as the wind howled outside and rattled the windows.

"Christ. It's really coming down."

He wasn't sure if he felt better or worse that Whitley agreed with him. There was something to be said about them having less of a foothold in his life, but he would also like it if they knew what the bloody hell was going on so at least someone could put a stop to it.

"Manifest any supernatural powers yet? Find any skeletons that didn't belong to you?"

[not_as_i_do]

"Wasn't a little while ago." Martin frowned briefly at the window, realizing what that might mean - and how little Alec was going to like it. "Weather turns on a dime here."

That being said, he returned to the other topic at hand, knowing they at least had a few minutes to kill until the soup was warm. "No powers. No skeletons. ... A sweater, and a son I don't have here. ... And some sort of problem severe enough that I'm not allowed to practice anymore."

He licks his lips, his eyes roving around the cabin, focusing on its details instead of the memories he's still not quite up to coping with. He's right on the edge of it, of seeing how much of That Martin is really compatible, but ... it's a slow process. Like the soup. He hopes that enough people will keep watching him, in case something should start to boil.

"...I'm wondering if someone with a ridiculous amount of political clout went under the knife and didn't come back up."

[scotch_egg]

"I have a daughter." A faint smile. "Probably better over there all things considered." He regards Whitley. Some sort of problem severe enough to make him quit? Well he knows that problem well.

"Perhaps you've a tremor of the hand. Maybe a weakness for blood? Do you faint at the sound of EKG machines?" He's teasing him a bit, but not in any serious way.

"Aye, that's possible. If that's the case though you were either good or popular enough to warrant that kind of patient. Maybe you were cardiologist to the stars."

[not_as_i_do]

"Look at us, the surprise fathers' club." He snickers, sliding off the arm of the couch to go and stir the soup so it doesn't heat unevenly. "I haven't had any night terrors about EKGs, but ... I did have a memory of blood on my hands. That's ... what makes me wonder about the, um." The context wasn't surgical, but ... he's still so uncertain, especially since in this reality he's treated people outside of a clinical setting. "Malpractice."

The way Alec says that last bit makes him laugh a little. "If I were, do you suppose even one of them was as insufferable as you?" He grins at him, clearly teasing.

[scotch_egg]

Well that wasn't good and Alec wonders if he should switch surgeons. Then again he doesn't know who else would put up with him and if he's dead either way, he's dead either way.

"Better not do it with me or I'll write you out of my will." He grins at the jab too, folding his hands behind his head.

"Oh I doubt you'll find anyone who can come close to that. It's my mission in life, you know, get under the skin and just rest there like a cocklebur."

[not_as_i_do]

"What was I going to get, your salt cellar?" He quips, returning to the couch and sitting properly this time ... just in time to hear that remark about the cocklebur. The term is not only ridiculous, but unfamiliar, and he lets out a little chuckle of confusion.

"I'm sorry, like a what? If you're not careful people will think you're throwing blue slang at me."

[scotch_egg]

"Bold of you to assume I have one." He stretches, arm absently on the back of the sofa.

"Blue slang?" he'd never heard of that. "It's like this seed or something covered with little spikes and it sticks to you and gets under your clothes and can be painful if you rest against it." He wasn't sure how else to explain it.

[not_as_i_do]

"No, no," he said, waving a hand in reference to the cellar comment. "It's one of those meme things. Salt, as in - never mind. I'm probably way too old to be using it anyway, if I picked it up listening to the receptionist."

He gives an amused little snort and rolls his eyes. "Spiky, that I can see. But if you're saying I'm stuck with you, now... that means you're staying for dinner while you rest that ankle."

[scotch_egg]

"Ugh memes. Who can understand it. Who can keep up with it? It's bad enough that I have to sit through a harassment seminar because some idiots can't be respectful, but we have to watch this video that tells us to take care using emoji's because: 'Remember, sometimes an eggplant is not just an eggplant.'" He throws his hands up. "It's a bloody minefield."

He glances at Whitley and shrugs.

"I've had worse dinner guests..." A calculated pause. "And dinners."

[not_as_i_do]

"Eggplant?" His brow creases a little in mock concern. "That seems a little unrealistic in terms of expectations, don't you think?"

Then he gets up to stir and check the soup, which is just about ready by the looks of the steam starting to gather and whirl on top of the broth. "I promise, no medical discussions at the table or for any of the night. You're my guest, not my patient."

[scotch_egg]

"What does that even mean? I mean I understand it's a euphemism, but what for. It's purple." He will never understand.

"I'm not staying that long, just until the snow clears up." Never mind that it seemed to be going harder than ever outside. Alec just chose not to think about that.

[not_as_i_do]

"Really?" Martin chuckled softly, more amused at Alec's ignorance than the actual subject matter, which he shared with clinical detachment. "It's a stand-in for a penis. More of that blue slang - which is, by the way, a particularly WASPy term for 'naughty talk'."

His eyes widened in mockery, twinkling, and he pursed his mouth in a silent 'ooooo' before flashing Alec a roguish smile and taking the soup off the burner.

[scotch_egg]

"Really..." He made a disgusted face at both explanations. "It's like people only have one thing on the brain. Sex or talking about it." Never mind that it was two things. At the smell of the soup his stomach grumbled involuntarily.

"That smells good..." Said somewhat reluctantly as he eyed the table, wondering if it would be worth it to limp over there.

[not_as_i_do]

"It's hard-coded into our genetics," Martin shrugged. "Not that that's any excuse for someone to be overly lewd."

He reached into the cabinet and pulled out two wide, deep mugs, wiping them out with a damp paper towel to be sure there was no dust before filling them with soup. A baking sheet from under the counter made a servicable enough carrying tray. "I've got a box of crackers here, do you like crackers with your soup?"

[scotch_egg]

"Lewd." He repeated the word and made a face. "I'm fine with just soup, thanks." Wafers in soup just ended up with soggy wafers and who wanted those?

He regarded the man and offered a faint smirk.

"you'll make a very good house husband one day. Hope you find someone special."

[not_as_i_do]

It sounded so much less ridiculous in Alec's accent, somehow, fitting in nicely with the Scottish vowels, and Martin grinned involuntarily ... until that remark.

"House husband," he snorted, bringing the bowls over and holding them just out of Alec's reach for being a smartass. "Only if my hands ever fail me."

[scotch_egg]

He called Whitley's bluff. He doubted the doctor would let him go without eating and he wasn't about to move with his throbbing ankle either.

"Why? Find housework beneath you? Don't think you'd look good in a frilly apron?"

[not_as_i_do]

"More that anyone I'd choose to spend any extended amount of time living with would either be capable of taking care of themselves, or probably be thorny about it if circumstances proved otherwise. Anyone who expects to eternally be waited on hand and foot ... by me ... isn't my type. I have my own ways of taking care of people as my profession."

He sat down and held out Alec's soup. "If it occupied my entire private life as well, I'd burn right out.

[scotch_egg]

He knew he would get the soup and smirked a bit, tasting it. It was better without wafers to be honest.

"Damn shame. You make good soup." Which gave him plenty of ammunition for him to tease the man about it later. "What is your type? Other than hyper competent?"

[not_as_i_do]

"I studied long and hard to learn how to heat up cans over open flame," he said with a sage smirk. But Alec's question about his type takes him a little by surprise.

He takes a moment to stir his crackers into his soup - it's better than Alec would suspect - as he thinks about his answer. He's been a professional physician and made that his focus for so long that he hasn't really thought of A Type beyond 'attractive, available, and not looking for committment'.

"In general, or are we still talking about the purely hypothetical situation in which I'd spend the rest of my life with someone?"

[scotch_egg]

A snort of a laugh as he sipped his soup. There was a bit of celery in there which did not belong and he scowled at it-- For lack of anywhere to put it though he ate it and hated every minute.

"Whichever. Or I can guess." He looked Martin up and down. "Someone with a liking for sheep. Maybe Welsh? Possibly blonde. But you could be a snotty brunette type."

[not_as_i_do]

A Welsh, snotty brunette? Martin wondered if Alec knew what he was saying. He arched an eyebrow, a smile quirking at one corner of his mouth.

"Sheep? What on Earth is that even supposed to mean?"

[scotch_egg]

"I'm saying if we shaved your head we could knit a sweater out of it." A smirk.

[not_as_i_do]

He gave an exaggerated gasp of offense that quickly devolved into a chuckle. "Usually hairshirts come from the person's own hair, Alec, and I'm not a knitter. Besides, I already have this one." Martin pulled his thick beige sweater closer around himself and made a little show of burrowing into it. Despite its mysterious origins, he was growing extremely fond of the thing.

"Besides, they talked me into shaving for St. Baldrick's one year and I instantly regretted it. I don't have the headshape."

[scotch_egg]

"It suits you. Very vanilla." Another low-key insult, but not much of one. He would prefer vanilla to everything that had been happening-- not that he was likely to get it.

"Anyway you're better with hair. It... adds a bit of charm."