(too late) you're at the party

[scouserer]

[Well, it's safe to say that trial fucking sucked. Therefore, some sort of afterparty is in order. Constantine is admittedly not good at throwing parties without some sort of liquor or other drug involved, but that's where Data and Sylvando guide him.

First order of business--invites. Upon returning to your rooms, crumpled pieces of paper have been taped to the doors. Written in poor handwriting is the following:]

meet at the lounge
bring whatever you want
[Simple, but effective. The lounge itself has been livened up a bit with Sylvando's help. Some nicely patterned fabric has been draped around on the tables to liven up the place a little, and snacks from the café and vending machines have been placed out for people to peruse.

A few supplies from the first aid room have been gathered, as well, for those who may need it. But perhaps the help is unnecessary, as tomorrow will likely bring another New Years Eve. And with it, another week of despair and frustration.

But for now, they can forget about that and pretend that all that matters is the present.]

Comments

[dokkalfheimr]

She must.

[It's...difficult, talking about Triandra after this week, but- ]

She's a smart girl. I'm sure she'll stay out of trouble until we return.

[Mortals be damned, Triandra knows better than to try to handle them alone. ...Hopefully.]

[paucipan]

[(it's always sunny theme) triandra goes off to fight the mortals]

Oh, she will. Triandra's always been smart and pretty calculating; I just know she'll be fine when we get back there.

[The words come out easy and confident.]

She'll almost definitely want a piece of the Captain, though. Hopefully there's some left by the time everyone else gets their turn.

[dokkalfheimr]

It would be a shame if she didn't, at this point.

[For so many reasons.]

I'm sorry about what he did to you this week, you know.

[paucipan]

...I'll be fine. I can't say I ever wanted to experience all of that again, but...well, it's just another thing he'll pay for in the end.

[...]

I'm...sorry about what he did to you, as well. He'll pay for that too, I assure you.

[She doesn't know the extent; she doesn't need to. Plumeria knows that whatever happened certainly must not have been good.]

[dokkalfheimr]

I will be all right; it was...a good amount at once, for sure, but it isn't anything completely unmanageable.

[She's quiet for a moment; a previous conversation she'd had with someone comes to mind, and...well...]

It was...about Triandra. He took all of my memories of her; it was as though she was never there.

[paucipan]

[...Oh. Plumeria's eyes go wide for a moment, shocked and horrified before--]

He what?

[Ohhhh, that's an anger spike right there.]

That wretched--how dare he take away your memories of her? How dare he try to make it as if she never existed? I can't believe the nerve of that hideous man!

[dokkalfheimr]

...We're going to torment him.

[There isn't an obvious flare of anger; it's just...cold, the sort that comes when there's too much fury to convey.]

We're going to put him under, and we're going to bring him to us, and he's going to suffer.

I don't care what the others want. He can live in his nightmares forever. Even that is showing restraint.

[paucipan]

We will.

[The agreement comes easily, with fury practically unrestrained; if Lady Freyja's is frigid cold, then Plumeria's is scorching hot and practically dripping with venom in contrast as her face contorts into something deeply furious.]

He'll suffer for all eternity for what he's done--we'll grant him no reprieve, no mercy. It's the least he deserves for what he's done to us!