unknownseas | And we're all adrift together through the cold mist, 'til we're lifeless together

[The preparations hit differently this time.

Last weekend was at least an attempt at being festive, even with the light supplies they have; at being joyous, at giving people at least one nice thing to look back upon before things inevitably took a turn for the worse. And now two people are dead, and instead of trying to figure out structure placement and how best to keep everyone entertained and occupied and well-fed, the preparations now are given to much more practical purposes.

Large amounts of bottled water from the machine. Bagels and bread and muffins, light starchy things to avoid forcing anyone to keep meat or seafood down after seeing a corpse. Fruit for the sake of providing energy. Avoiding including bananas for any reason. Quietly pulling aside one of the first people she sees with any experience in the matter and asking them to help her make tea.

Once she's got one of the tables at the party zone set up and the tea is on its way to being prepared, she'll set around letting people know; the invitations are simple, written in Freyja's broad, elegant handwriting:

I think another gathering tonight would be beneficial. Not to celebrate, but to remember; perhaps more importantly, to ensure that no one is alone if they don't want to be.

Tonight is hard. There is nothing further to do but get through it.]

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[While she has no real idea what John Constantine is thinking or doing at any given time, she does approach him at the buffet; not intending to corner him or shove him into a conversation if he doesn't want one, but...]

My apologies for Plumeria's behavior, and for anything that I may have said that offended you; it truly wasn't my intention to insult you.

[He glances up towards Freyja, raising an eyebrow. He raps his fingers against the table surface, shrugging.]

No offense taken, mate. I've heard worse from my friends.

[A hollow smile makes its way onto his face.]

I wouldn't have made any accusations without any sort of firm evidence. Things are tense enough as is, and I'd be stupid to stir the pot.

[...]

So the Captain got his way in the end, I suppose.

To be honest, I expected him to.

[She'll sit down across from him; she seems tired, perhaps, but not horrifically so.]

I never thought any displays of unity or solidarity would be anything but a stopgap measure. If anything, I merely wanted people to have something nice to look back on. It's just troubling that it happened so soon.

Of course not. We'd be fooling ourselves otherwise.

[Constantine's voice is uncharacteristically quiet.]

It does make you forget for a moment, though, doesn't it? All the horrible shit hanging over our heads, the Captain's threats, potential manslaughter--suspended for just a few hours.

[He scratches at the stubble on his chin, then remembers that he hasn't exactly gotten a chance to shave since he arrived on this ship.]

Figure that's why alcohol tends to be many people's preferred drink.

[...]

There are some things we do in my realm that are similar; we can create immersive dreams that are indistinguishable from reality, where anything that you wish to see can be shown to you. Better times, better places. The presence of those you last saw long ago, and those you will never see again. One can choose to live there, should they so choose, until they choose to come out. Even if that turns out to be "never."

If such a dream can exist, why would one ever choose reality over it? Why shouldn't they choose to define their reality by the dream's standards?

[She runs her fingertips over the tabletop in front of her, lightly. Picks gently at one of the imperfections.]

Even we are not prone to wanting to forget.

[Constantine runs a hand through his hair, staring down at his plate.]

It's a rotten reality we live in. Figure it's natural to want to forget the bad things--the people we've left behind, the ones who've left. Other things you regret. Tempting to just live a stagnated version of your life that never changes, so you won't ever be able to experience that sort of pain again. You'd think it'd wipe away all the guilt, but....

[He trails off, letting out a long sigh. After a pause, he offers Freyja a sort of lopsided grin.]

Sorry. You know what they say about misery loving company.

[Ah, that's...]

It is why I put a gathering together at all.

[She gets it, okay.]

I won't lie to you and pretend that I did not consider acting against the Captain's threat. I admire your resolve in being able to ignore such things.

[Constantine is quiet. He tears off a bit of his muffin with his hand and eats it, not looking up at Freyja.]

Actually, I...wasn't quite able to ignore it. I'd be stupid not to consider the fact that he'd probably have some sort of means to actually carry out his threat--at least to some extent.

[He seems to admit this with some reluctance.]

But I've learned that even when faced with these kinds of threats, you can't blink. You can't let them think that what they said means anything to you, because then they know they've won.

...It's a gamble. One I've had to pay for many times before.

[Mm.]

I allow myself to feel what I do because if I refuse to, it will be my own downfall. I refuse to not allow myself my own emotions, regardless of who sees them - I've kept my composure enough times, I've "refused to let them win" enough times, and it's never made an ounce of difference. Not in their thoughts, and not in their treatment of me.

I don't consider the Captain to have won until the day I kill someone for his game. Until then, he can believe whatever he wants.

[.....

Constantine isn't quite sure how to react to that, actually. He lets out a soft, humorless snort, shaking his head.]

Then maybe you have it figured out better than me. But I'd watch out. The Captain likes to push our buttons--and who's to say he won't try and aim his sights on you next? Or someone else itching to spill blood?

[He rises from his seat, shoving his hands in his pockets. His muffin remains half-eaten on the table.]

What do you plan on doing tonight? Besides baby-sitting the gathering, I mean.

[She tips her head in acknowledgement; it's something she'll bear in mind, surely, even if she isn't positive what to say to it.

They're all capable of being pushed to that point, she's sure; the difference will likely be in the strength to endure regardless.]

...I hadn't any plans, really. Why do you ask?

Was wondering if you’d like to take a walk with me out on the top deck. Some fresh air might do us some good.

[A beat.]

I promise, I won’t try to kill you.

[Of course, Constantine’s promises are usually empty lies. But it’d be stupid if he tried to kill her right now, in front of everyone.]

...I would like that.

[She pauses, briefly, before getting up herself.]

I didn't think you would try, for what it's worth.

And we're all adrift together through the cold mist, 'til we're lifeless together

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