but even if the stars and moon collide [afterparty]

[allatonce]

[Well, that sucked!

After about an hour, invitations written in colorful ink appear under everyone's doors.]

Understandable if you're not up to it, but we're having a memorial and "don't wanna be alone" hang-out in the restaurant again.

[The restaurant has very much been decorated with the most rainbow fabric she could find in the department store. Jonathan got roped in, mainly so she could make sure he was doing okay, but also because she assumed that he knew how to put a tablecloth on a table. He seemed like the type, anyway.

After consulting with Undertaker, most of the food that's been set out is more traditional Chinese funeral food than Victorian—you can get a whole roast duck in the restaurant—but she tried for a mix of things. There is fruit, the aforementioned roast duck, and several vegetarian dishes along with potatoes for some reason and... cookies? Okay then.

Joy's trying, because that was way less terrible for her than it was for basically anyone else.

Happy Pride Wrath, New Rapture!]

Comments

[specialyellthing]

That was me invitin ya—- Oh! [She laughs again, realizing the reasoning. Then she moves, stepping back to give him some space.]

Yeah, come in, Big Guy. I’d offer ya a drink, but we’re fresh outta blood juice boxes—-

[fuckingguy]

[ THE SUITE HAS BEEN BREACHED, FOLKS albeit in the innocuous form of a big dude stepping inside and looking around with polite interest! He shrugs at the juice box comment, and it will forever remain a mystery whether or not he realizes it was tongue in cheek. ]

Think I am all blooded out for the evening, to be honest. [ He pulls a little face to illustrate the eugh inherent to sucking old bagged blood out of a t-shirt. ] Oh, uh, how is Mielle doing?

[ THAT WAS...... A LOT ]

[specialyellthing]

She’s… about as good as ya would expect. [Zinda doesn’t even consider going to the kitchenette. She just flops down on the sofa with the whole bottle.]

I get why we hafta go after everyone. I really do. [She lowers her voice just slightly, which really wouldn’t be noticeable if she wasn’t always so damn loud.] But girlie looks worse off than the lone survivor of a bad battle, sometimes.

[And with that, she cracks open the bottle, takes a swig and—-]

Hawkah! That’s bad! [and then she takes another swig]

[fuckingguy]

[ Nandor, choosing adventure, sits down on the sofa! If there's room! Otherwise he will spend a full forty five seconds standing around some more before picking a chair. ]

Mielle is... like Jonathan in that way. You know — both very soft, very delicate. Sort of, how to say this, out of their own time? [ Is he even saying this with awareness of the fact that this applies to both people in this thread........ still, Zinda only skipped like 60 years! And he's been around the whole time, adapting to the modern world with varying degrees of success. These two seem to be constantly experiencing the plunging sensation of "you think there's a stair beneath your foot, but there isn't." ] No, that's not right. It is more like they cannot stop being in their time.

[ So, you know, PTSD! He is trying to describe being from the past and having PTSD!

He falls silent and watches her throw the alcohol back, or maybe regards it. His head is tipped back slightly, giving him that specific angle that makes Nandor look like a person who's capable of regarding things! Fondness, the normal response to Zinda, mingles with distaste, the normal response to Malort. ]

She is lucky to have you. [ why is he still talking jesus christ ] ... Also, sorry the liquor is such shit.

[specialyellthing]

[Theres plenty of room! At least, there is until he sits down, and she stretches out, way too overly familiar. She’s aware this is a vampire she’s cozying up too—- something about the danger of it all makes it more exciting for Zinda. She’s never been one to play it safe.

And it’s kind of sweet, listening to him talk about Mielle and Jonathan like that.]

Hah! You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s not the worst I’ve drank. [Which is probably like. the MOST concerning thing that Zinda Blake has said so far.]

It beats what I did the last time a friend died. That involved kidnappin a taxi driver, stealin a horse and buggy, and a lot lot of cash.

[fuckingguy]

[ As funny as it would be for him to continue sitting all hunched over like a big fuckin bat on one corner of the sofa, he's not stupid in this specific arena of life experience! Zinda knows what she is doing. She is assertive, and beautiful, and thinks better of Nandor than he deserves, and also she is capable of carrying a grown man around like a baby. He leans into her a bit, unabashedly studying her face. ]

You have so many stories.

[ "Blooded out" or not, the man looks hungry.

That said, Mielle is most certainly in her room now, whichever one it is, and if Mafuyu (who is mildly terrifying) isn't she could walk in at any moment. Everyone say "thank you" to the remainder of teen girl squad for ensuring Nandor doesn't curse this afterparty post more than the big hair boys already have.......... ]

[specialyellthing]

[Zinda’s eyes flicker to Mielle’s door, evidentially thinking something similar to him. Then she looks back at him, and smiles again.]

I’ve had an excitin life. I’m sure you got plenty’a good stories yourself.

[fuckingguy]

[ With the absolute self-assurance only a dipshit idiot like himself can muster: ]

It is true, I have been present at many momentous occasions and garnered many tales of woe. [ But all the really impressive ones involve him turning the Euphrates red with blood and so on, which is not exactly something he wants to talk about! Not even because it would kill the mood; he's just not feeling his own pompous legend right now, for once. ] ... But maybe another time.

[ What could he talk about............ what is an interesting story that doesn't involve him committing mass murder and could help distract Zinda from her dead roomie... the time he met his own ghost? The time Nadja's ghost left her vessel and took over a Scabby the Rat? The man-eating chicken woman who Colin Robinson was stuck with while the rest of them were chasing Nadja's ghost? Perhaps the story of how Guillermo saved them all at the theater? Not a very flattering one for Nandor himself, of course, but the Van Helsing part would probably be interesting to her. Okay, he's been considering this for way too long, now it probably just looks like he's too much a coward to kiss her— ]

It is not that I do not wish to share with you, of course. You have become very dear to me.

[specialyellthing]

Yeah, we've probably had enough woe for tonight. [Her expression turns a little bit sheepish, or at least-- as sheepish as she's capable of, which isn't very much. But the declaration's sweet-- people don't often tell her stuff like that, especially not big, terrifying men capable of ripping someone's throat out.

It's kind of nice.]

Yeah? Very dear, huh?

I'm pretty fond of you too, Big Guy.

[fuckingguy]

Oh. [ He smiles, reaching out with one hand, then gently tucks a wisp of hair out of her face. It's not clear whether the action is tentative or very deliberate. ] I was [ a beat ] beginning to get that impression, though of course it is easy to misread these things.

[ For him. Like, exclusively. ]

And I would not wanna make this awkward for you. But after today, and the last week... it really makes you think about getting your feelings out there, while you still can.

[ And, let's be clear in the third-person omniscient asides, that is definitely part because he can't just hypnotize her to forget an embarrassing overture if it turns out she's not interested! But, to be fair to Nandor (boo, hiss), it's like 70-30 whether he remembers he can't use his powers here at any given moment, and he likes her. He really does. ]

[specialyellthing]

Well, I was tryna drop a few hints, but I'm not really up with the proper way of hintin anymore. And I've had a bad track of likin' fellas who only like other fellas, without realizin' what I'm gettin into, so--

[She still looks a little weary-- then laughs, her smile coming back, bright as it normally is.]

Yeah. Probably good to be honest, lest we end up like poor Champ. ... I don' know how to break it to 'im that Fish wasn't into him like that, but I guess we don't even have to worry about it now.

Anyways, 'nough about them. It's out. What are you gonna do about it, Big Guy?

[fuckingguy]

[ For once, the turns have tabled! Nandor is the one who laughs, once the implications of "fellas who only like fellas" sink into his thick fuckin skull. ]

You too? [ Ah, but... ] ... Okay, maybe another story for another time. It is out there. And I was thinking...

[ Never one to back down from a challenge, he leans in and presses his lips to Zinda's with no further fanfare. The kiss is relatively chaste and closed-mouth, thank you Jesus; even if physical contact is expected, you don't just go shoving your fangs about someone's mouth unprompted outside of a blood orgy or something. He pulls back just enough to speak again, his voice low. ]

Something like that.