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

[dokkalfheimr]

[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.]

Comments

[scouserer]

[See how the tables turn, Chloe????]

Just one is fine. Not exactly aiming to bleed you dry.

Couldn’t the Captain at least consider putting a dispensary on this ship? You’d think he’d want to at least pretend to reassure us that things are going to be alright.

[hellahighwater]

[ Chloe snorts. ]

A dispensary? I fuckin' wish... If not even goddamn Oregon's legalizing, our tyrannical overlord Captain Smalldick's not gonna. [ Out of a pocket, she produces...a baggie full of weed. And one empty bag, all already rolled into joints. ] ...Half of this. That's all I can spare.

[scouserer]

[Constantine lets out a short, surprised laugh as he takes the bag from Chloe.]

Captain Smalldick. Surely you can do worse than that. I can think of at least half a dozen other insults to accompany that.

[He pulls out a joint, rolls the bag back up, and hands it back.]

God, what a fucking ordeal. You got a light?

[hellahighwater]

Hey, it's been a long day. Can't break out the big guns on command.

[ She pulls out a box of matches from another pocket, passing one other. ]

Found these in the other vending machines, the ones that aren't like, I don't know. Some extradimensional shit space.

[scouserer]

Who puts a box of matches in a vending machine without providing anything to smoke with?

[Constantine sticks the joint between his teeth and graciously takes the matches. He strikes one against the box, lights his joint, then flicks the match over the railing and into the ocean.

It's fine. It's wood, it'll...decompose. Or something.]

Now, I'd wager the way to go with this limited supply is to...like, hotbox a room or something. That way, you're not wasting anything.

do i need to cw for foul language... i'm sorry....

[hellahighwater]

[ Chloe, dryly, at his question: ] A smelly cuntrag with delusions of grandeur.

[ See, she can get up to speed.

She sighs and shrugs. ] Yeah. That'd be the smart thing, but I don't think anyone wants to give up their room to the resident stoner... ...And, I wouldn't do that to Freyja.

[scouserer]

There we go! Now that’s more like it.

[Constantine mulls over the present conundrum.]

My roommate’s a robot. I don’t even think he has lungs. You think….?

[...Please, don’t. Don’t approve of this.]

[hellahighwater]

...You don't say.

[ Who let these two talk or even meet? ]

[scouserer]

I do say.

[A troublemaking grin spreads across Constantine's face.]

I'm sure Mr. Data won't mind. Just let me know when you're ready to party.

[hellahighwater]

Oh, fuck yeah, I will be hella ready to smoke this joint up, booyah!

[ i take it all back i hate chloe price ]